"He's waking up."
Klaus's eyelashes fluttered open to a blinding overhead light.
He flinched, immediately bringing his hand to cover his view of it.
That was when he noticed he was no longer in the dark and cold space of his home.
He was now on a bed.
It was extremely soft and covered in red and golden duvets, and it had a particular scent to it that made Klaus want to permanently go to sleep and never wake up.
"How was your beauty sleep?" This time it was a female voice, and she spoke with a cool and husky timbre that suggested experience rather than youth.
Klaus flew out of the bed, his eyes eventually landing on the same blonde vampire that had attacked him in his home. And he wasn't alone.
There was a woman, slightly shorter than him. Her eyes bore the same crimson hue the man had, same with her hair, and she was skimpily dressed to say the least.
A daring slit climbed up her leg, while the top looked just one breath away from disaster.
No matter how much sexual appeal oozed off the woman, it was immediately killed by the fact that she was a vampire.
"Why did you bring me here?!" Klaus exclaimed, his mind racing. He thought he was as good as dead when the vampire had given him that gravity defying slap.
But here he was. Alive and breathing in—
"I'm nice like that." The blonde man smirked, lowering his head in a mock bow.
"I am Frankenstein, and I have taken it upon myself to care for newly awakened vampires. Isn't this exciting?!" The man, apparently named Frankenstein, suddenly appeared in front of Klaus, shoving his crazed face in Klaus's eyes.
Klaus pushed him backwards, his mind frantically working on how to leave this situation.
"You're scaring him, brother."
Brother? So they were siblings?!
"Aww man, I never get to have any fun." Frankenstein pouted, folding his arms across his chest like a child.
The woman rolled her eyes and slowly walked towards a shaking Klaus.
"Don't come near me, bitch." He spat, taking a step back further into the corner of the massive bedroom they were in.
The woman squinted her eyes, before a giggle escaped her lips.
"You're feisty. I like you already. But..."
She sped to Klaus, stopping just before his feet.
"Refrain from calling me bitch."
She closed her eyes and giggled again, the sound light and airy.
Then she dropped the bombshell.
"You're one of us now."
"No." Klaus's voice came out hard, filled with anger and disbelief. His fists clenched at his sides, and knots formed in his stomach. "No. I'm not—I'm nothing like you. You're a monster, I'm not one."
"Oh, do shut up." She said simply, tilting her head. Her eyes stayed on him for longer than 5 seconds before her red lips opened again to speak. "No amount of denial can change the fact. You are now one of us."
She paused, her brow furrowing slightly.
"But I must admit, I don't quite understand this. Usually after about an hour, they remember. What they did. How it felt. But you...." She leaned in closer, searching his face. "You really don't remember, do you? It has been over an hour since my brother knocked you out, and still your memory fails you. What happened to you?"
Klaus's hands started trembling, and the tremor spread up his arms, into his chest.
Were they saying he was now a vampire? That he had killed his sister in a fit of hunger?
He stole a glance at the dried blood on his hands, and swallowed.
"No. No, I didn't—"
"But you did!" Frankenstein's voice interrupted him, all playful and sing-song. He had that same manic grin plastered across his face, and his head was tilted at an unnatural angle. "You tore her apart like wrapping paper on Christmas morning! It was beautiful, really. I wasn't sure whether to stop you or not since you were getting violent and the poor girl was screaming, but it was quite the show!"
Bile rose to Klaus's throat, and he forced it down.
The mere thought of his younger sister screaming in pain from being torn apart was too much to bear.
"I'm nothing like you bastards," Klaus snarled, his voice breaking. "I would never—Marcelline was—"
Frankenstein's grin widened even further, his eyes glinting like a lit match.
"Let's test that theory, shall we?"
He clapped his hands together once, the sound echoing across the bedroom.
The door swung open.
A man entered, dressed like a butler, in a white and black outfit, prim and proper, dragging someone behind him.
A man. Bloodied beyond recognition.
Blood poured out from multiple wounds, pooling on the ornate floor as the butler hauled him forward. The man's chest still rose and fell in shallow and desperate gasps.
Klaus realized with horrifying accuracy that the man was still alive.
But barely.
And that smell—
Klaus's nostrils flared.
Intoxicating. Overwhelming.
His throat went dry, then suddenly flooded with saliva. A throbbing sensation pulsed in his gums, like something was trying to claw its way out of his jaw.
No. No. No.
Suddenly, the hunger roared to life.
"Fuck!" Klaus grabbed his head, stumbling backward. The pain in his teeth intensified, his canines elongating, pushing through his gums.
"Argh!" He doubled over, every muscle in his body screaming.
The smell was seriously messing with his mind. And.....
He lost control.
He was across the room in a matter of seconds, his now fully elongated canines clamping around the neck of the man.
The taste exploded across his tongue, and it was indescribable. It was warm, rich, satisfying, completely putting a halt to the roaring hunger he had felt a moment ago.
It was only when he felt the man's body go limp that he stopped.
The man's now very much dead body made contact with the floor with a loud thump, and it seemed to snap Klaus out of his spell.
He realized what he had just done, and his fingers trembled as he raised them to his lips.
Blood.
All over his face.
No no no no.
A chuckle echoed across the room, and he turned back to see Frankenstein nodding in approval.
"We welcome you, Ripper."