Revival § Klaus Mikaelson

20

Chapter 20: Long Live the King

{K. M}

The room was completely empty, every word he believed from his secretly sired vampire being one hundred percent false. Klaus' jaw clenched as he looked around in anger, waiting for Marcel to magically appear, but when he did show up, it wasn't so magical. Beside the vampire stood Klaus' sister, her blue eyes stone cold with anger without a single sign of remorse; this was her revenge. "Klaus."

        "You've been avoiding me."

        "I've been a little pissed lately," Marcel spoke calmly but Klaus could see the fire burning like a wildfire in his brown eyes. "—and apparently I'm not the only one."

        Rebekah bent over, pulling a dagger from her boot that was salt-kissed from the sprays of water they endured on the docks with Dakota.

        "What is this?"

        "I've had enough," Rebekah declares, the dagger being held tightly in her hand. "We've had enough."

        Klaus' dirty brown brows rose up. "Look at you, finally in possession of the one thing that can take you down." He walked forward, unafraid. "How does it feel?"

        "Great."

        Marcel lifted his hand to his mouth, using his two fingers to let out a shrill whistle, signaling a small group vampires to come forward.

        Klaus looked around unimpressed, and his response was dry. "So this is it. The evil bastard Klaus has gone too far, must be punished and by his own sibling, nonetheless. How biblical." Rebekah met his gaze, not able to form proper words to respond with. "And you, Marcel, is this your idea of a hit, I taught you better than that. You think you can subdue me with this?"

"No," Marcel lifted his hand to whistle again, one much longer and many more came through with straight faces and an intent to kill. "—but I can with this."

The hybrid let out a noise of approval, turning in a slow circle to see all the vampires who gathered to take part in his demise. "Vampires of New Orleans, do remember I am an Original, a hybrid. I cannot be killed. And while an eternity is an awfully long time, I'd like to offer a deal." Klaus pulled a coin from his pocket, raising it in the air for all to see. "Stand by me and I will spare your life."

"Anyone who wants that coin, pledge allegiance to Klaus, take it now." Marcel looked around, but no one made a move forward. "Choice is yours." When no one accepted to offer, the caramel colored man jerked his bald head subtly. "Take him."

Multiple vampires, one by one and two by two sped forward in an attempt to kill Klaus. Many met their fate, death. Klaus raised his hands out, waiting for more to come forward when two chains wrapped around his hands from behind, pulling him backwards to the ground. With the disadvantage, vampires came forward eagerly, kicking, punching and stabbing him win crowbars and other sharp items. Loud grunts and groans escaped his mouth at the pain and abuse sent to his body and each time he fell, two men conducting the restrains lifted him back up.

Rebekah stepped forward, dagger in her grip and an enthusiastic smile on her face that was wiped off when the deep growls sounded from his throat. The whites of his eyes went black making his yellow eyes pop. The dagger fell to the floor with a weak clang and the blonde took a step back.

The following movement were a blur, the supernatural burst of power allowing Klaus go escape his bondage and kill like never before. He bit, threw, and kicked away and vampire he felt was too close. "Marcel!" He yelled so loudly the walls vibrated. "Come and finished this." When he didn't respond, Klaus continued, one man taking on an army.

"Enough!" It went silent, so quiet that they sound hear the chirping of the grasshoppers outside. "Marcel held the coin in surrender.

"Marcel," Klaus stepped forward his face and neck covered in splats of blood and his mouth oozing the substance that didn't even belong to him. "Self-proclaimed King of New Orleans, bowing before me."

The golden coin fell to his feet. "There. I hereby pledge my allegiance to you. You have the keys to my kingdom. It's yours."

Klaus smiled so widely his dimples protruded significantly in his stubbly beard. He didn't say a word, he simply walked past the man to explore the kingdom he'd rightfully won.

After cleaning up, he looked over the balcony, watching the scene below him. Vampires mourning over their lost friends with Jazz music and tequila.

"If you're going to kill me, just do it," Marcel urged, standing a great distance away from Klaus.

"Why would I kill you?" He asked. "You picked up the coin. There are rules in war and if we disobeyed them there'd be anarchy."

The man spoke with a low voice, his tone defeated. "Everything's yours Klaus, this whole place, but the one thing that you don't have is loyalty. You can't but it, you can't compel it, you have to earn it by growing a relationship with these people and treating them with the respect and care that they need to feel like they should be loyal to you."

"I know that, I taught you—"

"You've taught me many things, Niklaus Mikaelson, but this, I learned myself."

The hybrid looked below him at the burning bodies as Marcel and the other vampires filed out quietly, not uttering a single word.

He put his hand in his pocket, taking out his phone. "Hello, sweetheart. I'm coming to pick you up. I'm going to take you home."

Dakota looked confusedly at her phone and it showed in her tone when she responded to her significant other. "I'm home right now."

"Not there, love. I'm going to take you to our kingdom."

"What do you mean?"

Klaus grinned as the words passed his lips with pride. "I'm going to show you a life of riches and happiness, my Queen."