Day 12: Blood Ties (The Vampire Diaries, Klaus/OC, R)
Title: Blood Ties
Author: misspopuri
Prompt #: 07 - Horror
Prompt table: Ea
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries
Rating: R
Character/Pairing: Klaus, OFC
Word count: 1,100
Disclaimer: I do not own TVD, its affiliates, or The CW. I only claim Agnes as mine.
Summary: In 1912, Agnes Huntley met two Mikaelson brothers, and her life wasn’t the same again. In the same verse as Promises To The Darkness.
The roaring crowd that entered into the establishment after the mysterious stranger came and asked for her prized patron kept this young owner from eavesdropping on private conversation. Her smile greeted the men coming up to get their drinks and then go back to their merrymaking and tomfoolery with the entertainment.
A knot in her stomach twisted, she held her hand over her miniature bump. If her husband didn’t come back soon, the people will start to talk sooner or later. It wasn’t practical for a woman to be working, they said, it won’t be long until they start getting other ideas. Agnes angrily wiped out a glass and set it down, much too roughly, on the counter-startling the patrons at the bar and her bartender.
With an apology, she took a wet cloth and went to wipe down the empty tables. Curiosity heightened as she hadn’t seen either of the two men leave Mr. Mikaelson’s private suite.
A flash out of the corner of her eye darted out of the area, she turned to see who it was, but the back door immediately swung open to announce the exit. Agnes walked over to see if anyone was still in the room-now empty-she looked again at the back door, arched her brow.
Having stepped through the door into the alley, Agnes didn’t expect to see the sun shining through the narrow opening above the rooftops. Fresh air only placated by the smell of leftover scraps from the restaurant next door, Agnes stepped out to see if anyone was still there.
One way was a dead end blocked by a brick wall, no one could jump that quickly. She turned towards the street to find the man-now uncovered-standing there with a giant bundle at his feet. She announced, “Hello, what are you doing back here? This is private property.”
The man turned to face her. He grinned, Agnes’ insides felt sick at the malicious look in his eyes. He spoke with a fluid sweet accent, “I think it would be best if you go inside now. This doesn’t concern you.”
Not to be deterred by this man, she moved forward to check the bundle. He pushed her aside, hard, when she got to close. Her back met with the edge of the dumpster before she fell down on her knees before him. She crumpled into a ball to gather herself, looked up at this man with anger, she asked, “What do you want? Where is Mr. Mikaelson?”
Without a word, he pointed at the bundle now in front of her. The expression on his face wasn’t readable from her angle, but she could tell he was sick, or deranged. This man needed help.
As she found her voice again, she looked up at his face as she asked this time, “What is your name?”
“My family calls me Niklaus, but most everybody else refers to me as Klaus,” Klaus answered as he bowed at the waist, he added, “I’m afraid I didn’t catch your name earlier, madam.”
Staring him in the eyes, Agnes stated proudly, “Agnes Huntley, sir. If that is Mr. Mikaelson that you are carrying, I will promptly inform the police who are no less than two blocks from this very spot.”
Klaus grinned again at Agnes’ boldness. He looked her up and down, focused on her stomach for the longest time. His grin broadened into a smile, he said more to himself than her, “I thought I would never see the day when my brother showed any compassion for another, let alone a human.”
“Excuse me. Brother?” Agnes had no idea what he was referencing.
“It is alright,” Klaus spoke to her now, “compassion and love happen to the best of us. It is our greatest weakness after all.”
Confusion darkened Agnes’ face, this man, Klaus, was not making any sense. If he even was a man, she thought. There was a look of near concern on his face now that made her blood run cold. She did not like the look on his face.
“Have you ever shared a drink with your Mr. Mikaelson after work,” Klaus asked after a minute.
Agnes bowed her head, blushed several shades of scarlet. It was not proper to admit that, as a married woman, she accepted a drink from a single man. Her voice came in a whisper, “What does that have to do with anything?”
As if that were an answer to his question, Klaus closed the distance between them, lifted the young woman up by her neck. Agnes struggled for a few seconds, lack of oxygen cut into her ability to fight him off. Klaus brought her down, took her face between his hands, and snapped her neck in two places.
Agnes’ body lay unnoticed in the alley as Klaus sped himself away.
~*~
By the time the crowd thinned out from the afternoon rush and before the late night crowd came in, the bartender came out to empty the trash and check on his employer. Gone a long time, he didn’t get a free moment before the early evening.
He found her sitting up against the wall behind the dumpster, body looked unusually positioned. Agnes must have fallen asleep, he thought to himself. I should wake her before the crowd comes. He kneels down by her body, cutting his hand on a piece of glass by her head.
Counting his lucky stars that she hadn’t fallen asleep on that, he shook Agnes to revive her, but no response. This isn’t right, she usually didn’t sleep this deeply. He shook her again.
With that, she came to gasping for air, Agnes’ breathing was different. She looked at him and asked, “What happened?”
The face of the bartender was confused. He explained that he found her asleep in the alley, and he went to revive her-briefly mentioning the cut on his hand. Agnes grabbed at his hand, stared at it transfixed. He took it away from her.
Blood vessels popped in Agnes’ eyes as she smelled the fresh blood pouring from her bartender’s cut, she noticed the varicose vein thrumming nervously in his neck. Licking her lips, fangs popped out of her canines, hunger overpowered her senses.
Pale now at Agnes’ appearance, the bartender asked nervously, “Are you alright, Agnes?”
Her sense of smell noticed the difference in his body chemistry, and she lunged for his neck, sunk her teeth into the thin blue vein sitting there. Blood oozing into her mouth, she was lapping it up with her tongue.
It was done.
Author: misspopuri
Prompt #: 07 - Horror
Prompt table: Ea
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries
Rating: R
Character/Pairing: Klaus, OFC
Word count: 1,100
Disclaimer: I do not own TVD, its affiliates, or The CW. I only claim Agnes as mine.
Summary: In 1912, Agnes Huntley met two Mikaelson brothers, and her life wasn’t the same again. In the same verse as Promises To The Darkness.
The roaring crowd that entered into the establishment after the mysterious stranger came and asked for her prized patron kept this young owner from eavesdropping on private conversation. Her smile greeted the men coming up to get their drinks and then go back to their merrymaking and tomfoolery with the entertainment.
A knot in her stomach twisted, she held her hand over her miniature bump. If her husband didn’t come back soon, the people will start to talk sooner or later. It wasn’t practical for a woman to be working, they said, it won’t be long until they start getting other ideas. Agnes angrily wiped out a glass and set it down, much too roughly, on the counter-startling the patrons at the bar and her bartender.
With an apology, she took a wet cloth and went to wipe down the empty tables. Curiosity heightened as she hadn’t seen either of the two men leave Mr. Mikaelson’s private suite.
A flash out of the corner of her eye darted out of the area, she turned to see who it was, but the back door immediately swung open to announce the exit. Agnes walked over to see if anyone was still in the room-now empty-she looked again at the back door, arched her brow.
Having stepped through the door into the alley, Agnes didn’t expect to see the sun shining through the narrow opening above the rooftops. Fresh air only placated by the smell of leftover scraps from the restaurant next door, Agnes stepped out to see if anyone was still there.
One way was a dead end blocked by a brick wall, no one could jump that quickly. She turned towards the street to find the man-now uncovered-standing there with a giant bundle at his feet. She announced, “Hello, what are you doing back here? This is private property.”
The man turned to face her. He grinned, Agnes’ insides felt sick at the malicious look in his eyes. He spoke with a fluid sweet accent, “I think it would be best if you go inside now. This doesn’t concern you.”
Not to be deterred by this man, she moved forward to check the bundle. He pushed her aside, hard, when she got to close. Her back met with the edge of the dumpster before she fell down on her knees before him. She crumpled into a ball to gather herself, looked up at this man with anger, she asked, “What do you want? Where is Mr. Mikaelson?”
Without a word, he pointed at the bundle now in front of her. The expression on his face wasn’t readable from her angle, but she could tell he was sick, or deranged. This man needed help.
As she found her voice again, she looked up at his face as she asked this time, “What is your name?”
“My family calls me Niklaus, but most everybody else refers to me as Klaus,” Klaus answered as he bowed at the waist, he added, “I’m afraid I didn’t catch your name earlier, madam.”
Staring him in the eyes, Agnes stated proudly, “Agnes Huntley, sir. If that is Mr. Mikaelson that you are carrying, I will promptly inform the police who are no less than two blocks from this very spot.”
Klaus grinned again at Agnes’ boldness. He looked her up and down, focused on her stomach for the longest time. His grin broadened into a smile, he said more to himself than her, “I thought I would never see the day when my brother showed any compassion for another, let alone a human.”
“Excuse me. Brother?” Agnes had no idea what he was referencing.
“It is alright,” Klaus spoke to her now, “compassion and love happen to the best of us. It is our greatest weakness after all.”
Confusion darkened Agnes’ face, this man, Klaus, was not making any sense. If he even was a man, she thought. There was a look of near concern on his face now that made her blood run cold. She did not like the look on his face.
“Have you ever shared a drink with your Mr. Mikaelson after work,” Klaus asked after a minute.
Agnes bowed her head, blushed several shades of scarlet. It was not proper to admit that, as a married woman, she accepted a drink from a single man. Her voice came in a whisper, “What does that have to do with anything?”
As if that were an answer to his question, Klaus closed the distance between them, lifted the young woman up by her neck. Agnes struggled for a few seconds, lack of oxygen cut into her ability to fight him off. Klaus brought her down, took her face between his hands, and snapped her neck in two places.
Agnes’ body lay unnoticed in the alley as Klaus sped himself away.
~*~
By the time the crowd thinned out from the afternoon rush and before the late night crowd came in, the bartender came out to empty the trash and check on his employer. Gone a long time, he didn’t get a free moment before the early evening.
He found her sitting up against the wall behind the dumpster, body looked unusually positioned. Agnes must have fallen asleep, he thought to himself. I should wake her before the crowd comes. He kneels down by her body, cutting his hand on a piece of glass by her head.
Counting his lucky stars that she hadn’t fallen asleep on that, he shook Agnes to revive her, but no response. This isn’t right, she usually didn’t sleep this deeply. He shook her again.
With that, she came to gasping for air, Agnes’ breathing was different. She looked at him and asked, “What happened?”
The face of the bartender was confused. He explained that he found her asleep in the alley, and he went to revive her-briefly mentioning the cut on his hand. Agnes grabbed at his hand, stared at it transfixed. He took it away from her.
Blood vessels popped in Agnes’ eyes as she smelled the fresh blood pouring from her bartender’s cut, she noticed the varicose vein thrumming nervously in his neck. Licking her lips, fangs popped out of her canines, hunger overpowered her senses.
Pale now at Agnes’ appearance, the bartender asked nervously, “Are you alright, Agnes?”
Her sense of smell noticed the difference in his body chemistry, and she lunged for his neck, sunk her teeth into the thin blue vein sitting there. Blood oozing into her mouth, she was lapping it up with her tongue.
It was done.