Klaus dropped her on the porch of the number she'd mumbled, glancing at the house before him. It was little, yet seemingly comfortable. Much too small beyond his preference for decor but his focus was on the girl, who was standing unsteadily on her feet.
"How....how do you do that?" She asked in a broken voice.
"Vampirism has its advantages," he said, judging her reaction carefully.
Her face paled slightly, the blood draining from her cheeks and she gave an audible swallow. "I already said that that can't be....possible." But her voice lacked the conviction it had held earlier and Klaus seized the opportunity of it.
"You do not live in the world you believe you did. One truth can shatter reality as you see it. The question, though," Klaus murmured, meeting her eyes with his, "is whether you will allow it to do the same to you."
She gave him that horrified look again, the very one that grated on his nerves. What right had she to see him as the monster? He had, after all, just saved her from one.
"This is....this is...."
"The stuff of nightmares," Klaus answered for her but she just shook her head and closed her eyes again.
"Are you going to kill me?" She suddenly asked, looking at him with horror. He found himself surprised by her accusation and pursed his lips.
"No," he decided. "Contrary to what you may believe, you are rather harmless."
"Well then, why...." She was clearly struggling to pick the right words. "Isn't there some universal rule that you shouldn't go around....telling people this? You know what, no." She waved her hands frantically in the air. "No, I'm not even going to think this is actually....a possibility. Nope. It's too Night of the Living Dead."
Against his better judgement, he smiled. Yes, this girl was quite entertaining.
"Reality will hit you soon enough. As for that universal rule you were so eloquently referring to, I do believe it safe to dispel this information. I highly doubt you to exchange it between someone else."
She scoffed, facing him again and nearly stumbling in doing so. "You don't even know me! I could be a....a....I can't even think of an example! But you still don't know what kind of person I am."
"An interesting one, at that."
She raised her eyebrows at him, glancing once at the door. "You know, I'm done talking to you. I'm going to go to bed. You....don't do anything," she pointed at his chest. "Come near me and I'll scream. You do not want to see my mom when she's pissed off. And with a gun."
He smiled again, but then wiped it off, suddenly irritated by his lack of control.
"Farewell then," he said, just as she shut the door in his face. He turned away from the entrance and started down the steps, trying to suppress his stirring aggravation.
She was intriguing, that girl. Klaus couldn't name why, but she just was; a magnet to bad things which was evident in the fact that she'd caught his attention.
Perhaps he should never have intervened, he thought. On the vampire, in telling her what he was, but Klaus was tired of the same mundane things and wanted something....different.
To satisfy himself in his actions, he decided that he wouldn't intervene again. Not on her behalf. He'd done so already and any more than that would raise its own suspicions in and of itself.
But he'd still talk to her; just to wait. And to watch.
He wanted to see how long it would take for Caroline to run again.
___________________________________
I dreamed of men with bloodred eyes.
After heading upstairs and cleaning up, I fell into bed. But the instant sleep came, it brought with it those eyes, staring straight into mine.
The sound of my own scream was what woke me from it.
_________
By the time morning came, I was suffering from severe sleep depravity, but was relieved to know mom was at least at work. That was one less thing I needed to worry about, for the most part.
I tried my best to think of anything else than British men and monsters, but the memories kept flooding back into my head. But the questions that rampaged there couldn't be answered by me. Only by him. I wanted to know who he was.
But more importantly, what.
The answer came sooner than I expected. When I reached downstairs, dangling my foot above the last step, the doorbell went off and my body stilled. I glimpsed the familiar black jacket beyond the glass pane set in the door.
He was back.
Something in me mounted; fear, dread. A bunch of negative feelings that made me want to go back to bed and pull the covers above me. But an even larger part of myself wanted to ignore him; to walk into the other room and cram yesterday into some mental box, encoded so well as to never be reopened again.
But there was also undeniable curiosity, glimmering vaguely beneath the rising terror.
"One truth can shatter reality as you see it."
But I never counted on any including mythical beings in it.
"Get rid of him," I told myself as I fingered the doorknob before yanking it open, ensuring my expression did not give way to any fear.
"What part of 'leave me alone' don't you understand?" I quipped, staring into those mysterious eyes again. Now for the first time in the light, I couldn't decide whether they were blue or green. They were inconveniently pretty, nonetheless.
"The part where I saved your life and there's no expression of gratitude to thank me for it," he replied, not missing a beat.
Dumb accent. Ugh.
"I'm not sure if a thanks is required in this case scenario. Except maybe for a horror film," I added for effect.
"Ah, so you've finally come to terms with it, I see," he drawled with a sly smile. "I must say that I'm impressed by your containment."
"I'm not containing anything," I snapped. "What I saw was....impossible."
Never had I used that word so much in my life.
His gaze shifted from mine to over my shoulder and I closed the door to me, purposefully blocking his view.
"If you let me inside, I might be able to offer some insight into this ordeal."
My eyebrows shot up. At first, I thought he was kidding, because no way was I letting him in. No way in history.
But his expression didn't change, so apparently not.
"What?" My mouth dropped in surprise. "Are you serious? Yes, because I hear it's wise to offer a complete psycho into your home."
"If that makes you uncomfortable, Love, we could talk out here."
My glower turned to a downright scorn at his nickname. "Stop calling me that!" I yelled. "I'm not your Love. Im not your anything, except maybe the person you keep harassing."
His jaw clenched and this seemed to irritate him, voice dropping a degree. "Suffice it is to say, I saved your life. And therefor, what fear could you possibly have of me if I've done nothing to indicate....ill intentions," he said, quoting himself from our first meeting.
I stared at him, trying to take a calming breath.
Okay, the voice of reason spoke from my inner depths when I could have used its assistance much earlier; I had two choices here. Close the door on the attractive stalker's face, again, or ask the questions steadily burning inside me, demanding some reprieve.
I wanted validation, after all. Something to confirm that the world hadn't completely turned inside out. There had to be more to this than....legend. And if I didn't ask now, well, I'd wonder.
Plus he had helped. Not that I would tell him that. His ego was as obvious as that accent of his.
A minute passed. Maybe two.
"You'll answer my questions?" I asked.
He gave me a straight face. "Yes."
"Do you swear not to do anything....weird? And by weird I mean illegal or whooshy?"
He nodded, that infernal smile tugging at his lips. "I heartily swear it."
I wondered if I was going to regret this. A smarter person would probably shut the door and lock it. Probably shove the dresser up against it as well, just to be on the safe side. But last night had happened and though I was afraid, I wanted to make sense of what I'd seen. I couldn't keep blaming it on a drink. I needed to know.
"Who are you?" I asked first, the question I'd entertained for over a week finally spilling forth.
A spark lit in his eyes, as if harboring a secret he was debating whether or not to let me in on. "Let's save that one for last, shall we?"
I kept my glare, waiting.
"You said you'd answer my questions."
"Yes, but you did not specify to what order I must answer in."
This guy was starting to piss me off. "Fine, what are you?" I amended.
He didn't hesitate. "Ancient vampire. It's quite the reputation to have. Apparently I'm something to be feared," a pause. "I can't imagine why." He smiled once more, another inside joke I didn't get.
But I'd play along, however preposterous this seemed to be. "Ancient? What you don't....age?" It was hard to keep my disbelieving smile from blossoming over my face.
His however, remained stolid. "If I did, my bones would be reduced to dust by this point."
Well, that sounded promising. "Too bad," I smirked. "How old are you claiming to be?"
His empty expression was replaced by a seriousness that was almost unsettling. "I originated from the tenth century. Messy time. The history books fail to accurately portray the diversity of it."
I stared at him. This had to be the punchline. Or the joke. It was too comical to be anything otherwise.
"You're telling me that you are a thousand year old vampire?"
"Approximately."
I couldn't help it. I laughed. "What?"
His features remained the same when I really wanted him to share in my humor, because he couldn't be serious. "So wait," I cleared my throat. "Okay, let's say you were a....a thousand years old, does this mean you really do slumber in coffins?"
"The concepts of modern vampirism are rather comical," he said with a shrug, as if we were discussing something as trivial as the weather. "Though others are fairly accurate."
"So you really do sleep in coffins?"
He smiled. "Fairytale."
"I've got garlic in the kitchen. Should I use it to ward you off?"
"Fairytale."
"A....stake to the heart?"
He lifted a finger. "Now this one is accurate."
"That's your Achilles heel?" I asked, somewhat surprised. "You die if stabbed with anything made of wood. So....death by pencil?"
His smile widened. "That would be a rather demeaning end, but an effective one nonetheless. The same is not implied for myself, however; I'm....an exception. The others, though, would die instantly."
My eyebrows rose. "What do you mean?"
"I'm an original vampire, you see."
I felt my face blanch. He really was egotistical. "Does that mean you're the first?"
He folded his hands in his jacket and sighed, as if this wasn't the first time he'd gone through this. "Among one of the firsts, Love. Average weapons cannot harm me."
"Oh, so you're special." My tone was somewhat mocking but it seemed to entertain him and he nodded. "A rather informal way to put it at that, but you are not wrong."
"Why are you here?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning against the door frame. "I mean, why this town?"
The man continued to give me a look of indifference. "I had some business that required my attention. I was simply passing through."
"Okay, fine. Are there others here....like you?"
Well, that was a stupid question to waste, of course there were others.
He licked his lips. "I think the events that transpired last night is sufficient in an answer."
Yup.
I bit the inside of my cheek, deliberating. "What is it you really want with me?" I finally asked, the answer I was extremely curious, and maybe a bit frightened, to know. "What would a....very old person such as yourself find interesting in messing with a high school cheerleader outside of a bad slasher novel?"
He glanced away, thinking. "I've been alive for centuries," he finally breathed. "Call it boredom."
I scoffed at that, tempted to slam the door in his face once more. "As flattering as that is, I'm not a source of entertainment for you. I'm actually a person. Maybe you just see a human vending machine, but no. I'm. A. Person."
"I'm well aware of that," he said. "But when you've surpassed your five hundredth birthday, some things begin to wane of its excitement. You lose fascination in materialistic things. But for some reason, I find you....interesting."
I shook my head at him. There was nothing intriguing or even remotely interesting about me. Certainly not to anyone like....like him. Whatever that was. And if he was trying to convince me of anything, this certainly wasn't the way to do it. I was already regretting the decision of ever having opened the door.
"What's say you and I grab a bite," he asked and I instantly flinched, my hand going to my throat.
"Pardon my unfortunate choice of words," he said, his expression placated. "But I know a lovely place uptown."
It took a few moments for his offer to register in my mind and I gawked when it did. Was he still actually being serious?
I chuckled. "Go somewhere? With you? I actually do have a dot of self preservation and I've made it a rule not to go off with a stalker." I looked him up and down. "Especially foreign ones."
He seemed unfazed by what I said and sighed again, a curious spark igniting in his eyes. "Suit yourself," he replied, "if I've satisfied your questions, I'll take my leave now. But mark my words, Caroline," he took a step forward, surprising me by using my name for the first time. "You have not seen the last of me. At least, not yet."
He turned away and began walking but paused, lingering another moment. "And to answer your first question, Love, you can call me Klaus."
Then the image of him blurred and he was gone.