Immortals [Klaus Mikaelson]

9

"Took you long enough." I grumble into the phone, "Don't worry, she's not dead if that's what you're worried about."

"I was actually calling to thank you," Damon says from the other line, "Caroline told me that you came up with the solution that would save Elena's life, so I believe a thank you is the least I can do."

His words surprise me a bit. Obviously, Elena is rubbing off on him. "Oh. Well then, you are very welcome."

I keep my eyes glued to the sidewalk in front of me, blind to where I am or where I'm going. Nothing around me looks familiar yet, and hopefully it will start to soon because my magic has decided it's no longer going to be of any help to me.

It's within reason that the ancestors would be angry enough with me to reign my magic in. My power is a force to be reckoned with, so I've never had a problem sharing it with them before, but our opinions have never differed so drastically that they would try to control me in this way.

I have no knowledge of my past. For some reason, I have always relied on the support and blessings of the ancestors before me—or after in most cases. In relation to that, our distant relationship has brought up a few theories about my immortality, like how they have chosen me to act as their living puppet which is why I end up specific places without knowing where I'm going or when I see memories that have significance to the situation I'm in.

I also have a theory that I did something terrible in the life that I don't remember, and this is the punishment they have chosen for me.

No matter what, I'm currently pretty annoyed. I'm different from locational witches, just as Bonnie Bennett or my friends in New Orleans. They all use their ancestor's power, but I don't have to do that. I have enough of my own magic inside of me that could belong to a whole coven of witches. Maybe someone knew that a tied me to the witch ancestors of the world to keep me grounded. I really just don't know.

Damon's voice is coming from the speaker, but I decide to cut him off rudely, "You know, Damon, as much fun as I've had the last few days here, I'm not sure I should stay in Mystic Falls for much longer. Klaus and I... it's complicated."

"Complicated." Damon laughs, not bothered by my interruption. "You don't have to worry about Klaus for much longer, Clara. We already have a plan in motion."

I laugh too loudly, "What? Are you going to run him out of town?"

"No, we're going to let Mikael kill him. Now if you just shut up and let me tell you..."

I don't bother listening to whatever else he has to say. My feet have stopped where they are on the sidewalk and my eyes lose track of the world around me. Memories flood my mind, threatening to take over if I don't push them far enough down.

Blood. The red crimson soaked through my dress where the knife had been driven into me. The pain was unbearable—nothing like I have ever felt before. A flood like fire was coursing through my veins and spreading across my body with every moment that passed. I couldn't breathe, overwhelmed with emotion and agony, yet it still didn't silence my screams.

Suddenly, two hands were pressed against my wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding. It wasn't going to work, and I watched as his hands also became covered in the same thick, scarlet blood.

"No," He breathed, "No!"

He next brought his wrist to his mouth, becoming his true nature and biting into it. When he raised it to my mouth, I lifted my own soaked hand to intertwine my fingers with his.

"You know that will not work on me, Niklaus." I wheeze, trying to hide the pain in my voice. "You will be alright, my love."

"He shall pay for this, Clara, I promise you with my life."