Immortals [Klaus Mikaelson]

2

Determined to pick up the mood, I continue to a happier string of entries, "1935. Cravings are there, but it's easier. Lexi's on to her next project: getting me to laugh."

The sound of Stefan's laugh echoes in my head. There were so many times where Damon would drag me to wherever his younger brother was partying that night to spy on him. Stefan would sit at the bar joking with his friends or expertly flirting with every female that walked his way or looked tasty enough to engage. It was his own game that never awarded a winner.

As I begin to turn the page, the laughter never ceases. His voice becomes louder in the back of my head, grasping for my attention. I freeze.

I can barely distinguish Elena's calling voice from the ringing in my ears.

"Elena." I try to say.

Her eyes perk up to meet mine and I take it as a sign of understanding.

"Hide, Elena. You have to hide, now."

She looks around, panicked. I throw up a hand, willing the hidden alcohol cabinet to open. It thankfully does and I hurry to push the girl inside.

"What about you?" Elena frighteningly whispers.

Knowing better than to answer, I put a finger to my lips and close the cabinet as quietly as I can at this point. Within the second, I look around the apartment for anywhere that can be used as a hiding spot from a vampire. I honestly don't know what I was expecting: A room full of vervain? Another hidden cabinet? Not knowing what else to do as my magic is preoccupied with the laughter in my head, I crawl under the bed.

Not a second later, the apartment door is kicked open.

"What a charming little homestead. Do you feel that? Is anybody here?"

I barely recover from hearing the voice before doing a quick and easy spell under my breath to hide anything human that may reveal our positions. Thank goodness my brain has finally cleared enough to do simple spells now that Stefan's incoming movements are no longer a concern.

But that voice.

It's been years. Decades. Centuries.

I'm going to kill Damon when he gets back.

"It's been vacant for decades; people must break in all the time. Why'd you bring me here?" Stefan's voice is clearer now, but almost identical to the one in my head that had warned me of his arrival.

Footsteps. From where I lay with my stomach on the floor and back pressed against the bed, I can see two pairs of black shoes slowly moving forward into the room. It's almost as if the whole thing is a ruse and someone with a camera is about to come running into the apartment laughing at my worried expression. But it's not a practical joke and no one is going to run out with a camera; Elena can easily be caught because I didn't protect her like Damon had asked.

And I would come face to face with Niklaus Mikaelson for the second time in my life.

"Your friend, Liam Grant, the one who drank his wife's blood..." Oh my god. I'm very thankful I did not witness that back in the '20s. "I never could figure out why you wanted his name. And then you told me your little secret. It was all part of your special little ritual."

Stefan's voice replies in an instant, "To write it down."

"And relive the kill, over and over again."

One set of shoes moves to the hidden door. I absentmindedly suck in a breath, but neither men hear it due to the previously casted spell.

"You believe me now?"