ACHILLES' HEEL ▷ KOL MIKAELSON [2] [COMPLETED]

𝟎𝟒. 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐘 𝐂𝐈𝐑𝐂𝐋𝐄

(CHAPTER FOUR :
THERAPY CIRCLE)

✧࿐ ཾ✧

ECHOES AND GROANS bounced off of the four walls that confined me. No matter how futile I knew it to be, I fought against the chains. Hopelessly, I thrashed and rattled the shackles, craving a sweet escape. I could feel the sting of vervain as it coated my skin like a suit of armour, I could feel the purple bruises form and heal around my wrists. Although, it couldn't truly hurt me because I was numb to the pain. Stubbornly, I had decided that I wasn't ready to succumb to my emotions and refused to feel. When I was being tortured, I switched off more than my emotions — my entire body and mind was turned off, so I couldn't process a single, torturous thing.

"Can you feel your humanity yet?" Klaus questioned, withholding my daily capsule of blood to ensure I would talk. "I can feel it in this room right now, there always has been something distinctive about humanity. It's as if I can sense it, as if it's an entity of its own." He held an unmistakeable air of darkness around his conversational tone. "It's flickering, isn't it? Teetering on the edge, pushing you to the brink of insanity for what we both know to be a losing battle. You can't keep it off forever." He patronised, having a millennia of experience to support his claim.

Biting down on my lip until it drew blood, I forced myself to remain void. "All I feel is annoyed . . . with you. Esther really screwed the rest of the world over by making you practically indestructible." I muttered, using the little energy I had for an insult.

"You didn't deny it." He pointed out. "Even you know it is inevitable, humanity always comes back." Klaus crouched down to the floor, tracing patterns in the dusty concrete with his finger. "But, I tend to find it more interesting to know why a vampire turns it off. It's the most mundane things that act as a trigger, making one's emotions crash back with the force of a tidal wave. And mundane bores me, that's why I prefer knowing the catalyst, knowing what pushes somebody to breaking point — especially somebody with your calibre for tragedy." The Original's head snapped up, the electric in his blue eyes shocking me into stillness.

Silence lingered for too long, the weight of his words startling me. "I didn't realise it was time for a therapy circle." I snapped finally.

Grinning, he uncapped the tube of crimson liquid in his hands and spilled a a fraction on the floor, daring me to misstep. "Tell me, Charlotte, what broke you? I do doubt my death was the reason for your outburst, even if I would be extremely flattered." Klaus drawled, his British accent more prominent than it usually was — or maybe it was just the first time I focused on it.

"Your family broke me." I hissed, my fangs aching for blood. "But that's not why I turned it off. I turned it off because everything I touch dies, Klaus. Everything I built here was going to be gone, I thought most of my friends were going to die because they were from your sire line. Even Elena and Jeremy would no doubt have been victims to Rebekah or Elijah if you had died." I explained, staring at the vial in his hands with an immense hunger. When Klaus didn't give me the blood, I roared in anger whilst he encouraged me to continue. "I didn't have enough black in my wardrobe for that many funerals. Turning it off was an excuse to escape the mourning and the services and the no good prayers. I've been alive for over a century now and long figured out that crying over a casket doesn't change the fact the person you love is dead and you're just . . . not." I seethed in my half-admission.