Untapped Potential: his greatest disappointment.

What had he become?

Stifled voices. Slithering shadows. Obscurations prowling. Personages moving. Blurred images, revisions of his past- flying around.

Very few things were making sense to Klaus. His mind was blank, but that was because he was allegedly in his subconscious at the moment. He couldn't hear straight, voices overlay with ghosts and thoughts, but what he did hear, it didn't make any sense. The voices were backward, sentences structured in odd patterns- like he was swimming underwater, but his family had no care that he was drowning.

His body felt like it was falling. Falling. Falling. Falling. Where was he falling to? Klaus had no clue. It was an endless abyss. His mind wasn't crowded with images like on T.V. It was a void. Voices came and went. Images flashed- but were never lucid enough to make sense of.

The worst part, though, was the throbbing weight on his lungs. The wheezing breaths he was forced to take as an indescribable pressure beat onto his chest. It hollowed his gasps, tortured his airways, and drew panic from Klaus's mind.

He had no concept of time, no way of knowing when he was going to be free. Then again, Klaus didn't expect to be liberated. There was no probability that this was a fluke, and with the way his life is, there was a vaster chance that there was a more imposing foe behind this. He knew enough to know that he wasn't getting out, not without a fight.

Not without being hurt.

God, he was so tired of this.

On the bright side, Klaus did feel a sense of peace. Despite the surrounding forces, the impending threats, he felt inexplicably calm. He was panicking, and he wanted out more than anything, but the tranquillity of his mind was admirable. It was a good change of pace for the seance.

Swiftly, he was ripped from the calm. Torn from the peace. He wasn't freed, per se, but he was more cognizant of what was going on. The voices registered in his mind, the overlapping quelled, and he could apprehend the chaos ensuing around him. He could feel the chill of his tears running down his cheeks, the sobs wracking his already fragile frame, his labored breathing causing lightheadedness that he was not enjoying.

"I don't give a fuck!" vaguely, someone spoke. Klaus didn't understand what they were talking about. All he could focus on was the pounding in his head, the way his feet ached and burned, and the rare burn in his cheeks. Tears continued to stream down his face, cooling his heated skin.

A voice synchronized in his head, a smooth sound that tore Klaus's ears. "They have a lot of faith in you. Too much, if you ask me. You're quite pathetic."

"You have a point?" defeatedly, Klaus questioned the voice. It didn't sound like someone was speaking, at least- not to Klaus. Then again- Klaus was so rarely correct.

He was pretty proud of his streak recently, though.

"She's coming. I'm going to have to let go of you soon- but before I can do that, I'd like to have a little fun," the voice taunted. Klaus felt that odd sense of peace return, but with a threat approaching- something told Klaus that this would not last long.

Klaus felt himself inhale roughly, but he didn't remember telling himself to do that. He didn't remember the sobs escaping his chest, either. What he did remember- or well, experienced- was the plunging feeling into the dismal void. A sweep of wind assaulted his face, his eyes watering- not from the tears still rapidly escaping his eyes.

But the darkness ended. The once endless depth was no longer everlasting- instead, Klaus landed on cold concrete. A chill ran through his spine, and Klaus found himself stuck on his knees- cement stabbing them. He glanced around the room with wide eyes, hoping he didn't look as scared as he felt. But it didn't matter. Nobody could see him.