ivyrose • klaus

the woman in the picture . . .

~ ivy ~
Year 2010 | Chicago

A dramatic hand swung a red car door shut followed by a bright smile. Klaus Mikaelson turned to his confused friend without care of his delirious state. 

"Welcome back to Chicago, Stefan."

"What are we doing here?" Klaus clapped his hands with joy. The younger vampire drew his brows together before he quickly followed the Original. Stefan Salvatore had too many questions on the sudden move to the historical city. 

"I know how much you loved it here." Klaus' large smile never left his face as he reminisced. "Bringing back memories of the good Ripper days?"

"Blacked out for most of them. A lot of blood, a lot of partying." All honesty fell from Stefan's tongue before he realized, but he agreed with himself. When he focused his mind back to such memories, he couldn't see a thing. "The details are all a blur--"

A firm hand patted Stefan's shoulder. Klaus knew the young man's memories were gone but found the perfect moment to return them. His devious smile grew just slightly on his face. 

"Well, that is a crying shame. The details are what make it legend." 

Circa 1920 | Chicago

"Word was the Ripper of Monterrey got lonely, so he escaped to the city for comfort. It was Prohibition. Everything was off limits then, which made everything so much fun."

Surrounded by a group of men around a table, Klaus spoke the story with defiance and confidence of a first-hand witness. The innocent men nodded as if under compulsion. However contrary to the Original's tale, the Ripper himself was not out of the city, but outside, busy in a car.   

Lips, limbs, and tongues danced in a rage. Stefan overtook the woman from the street with ease--his vampiric abilities bested any human strengths by miles. From her cheek with moans, his kisses descended past her cheek to the cave her ears. In the depths of drunken finesse, Stefan licked the woman's neck, eliciting an aroma of pleasure. Urged by her vocal want, the vampire bit her neck. Sucking with passionate force, all the blood in the woman's body was nearly drained before she was swiftly killed. 

Leftover blood masked Stefan's face. In the dark streets of Chicago, he could have been a drunken fool injured by recklessness. Added with the vampire's cool, no one minded the obvious red when he entered Gloria's Bar. 

From the stage, a smooth tune filtered from a blonde. Her gloved finger pointed to the newcomer. 

"Guess who my eyes have just spied, ladies? Looking for a good time, Mr. Salvatore?"

The vampire nodded to the singer. "Save me a dance, Gloria."

About to grab a glass of champagne, Stefan froze when an elusive blonde acted faster. All he could do was allow his eyes the pleasure of watching the woman move as if he never existed. 

 "Ooh. Please, help yourself."

The woman in a luscious cream dress wore a haunting smile as she raised the bottle. "Oh, I always do." Her tongue licked over her red lips before her breath fanned his ear. In the shadow of the crook of his neck, her facial features vamped out. The aroma of blood and sex was a perfume he was donned in.

"Careful, Mr. Salvatore. You're still wearing your date. She's lovely."

And without another word, the female vampire turned to leave. A sudden move saw her whip around; her wrist in his hand.