Wicked Schemes

Chapter 6

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I feel broken
like I'm made of glass
except I'm shattered
and oh so easy to smash
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Tyler Lockwood was strung up to a tree.

It took all of Klaus' inner strength not to roar with laughter at the sight. He did take a few seconds to memorize the scene, ignoring the men with rifles behind him. He couldn't help but wonder what the whelp was doing in Louisiana instead of Mystic Falls. Seemed as though someone really didn't understand the chance they had been given. Though, this unfortunate event for Tyler probably yielded more pleasant ones for him. Like the delightful voicemail he'd received from Caroline about the ocean.

"Does she know you're here?" Klaus called out, and the angry flash in the boy's eyes was answer enough.

Oh this would be fun.

But his attention was turned back to the matter at hand, refusing to be distracted from why he had tracked down this particular pack of werewolves.

"I'm not here for a fight." Well, not yet. He was prepared to engage in one and win if need be, it wasn't as though they had any means to stop him. Not for long and not permanently. "Simply to talk and offer you an alternative to living constantly on the move and unable to form roots anymore." Klaus saw the surprised looks in some of them men and women who were on the edges of the circle of people slowly beginning to move in toward him. No doubt they were under the impression they could capture him as they had done Tyler, but unlike the boy, he had no qualms ripping out as many hearts as needed.

"And if we ain't in the mood for listening?" one of them asked, and Klaus could feel the muzzle of the gun press into his back. He flashed around before the man had time to fire, effectively removing the gun from his grasp and holding him flushed against his chest, arms crossed around him in a headlock.

"I suggest you start because those wooden bullets you have will do nothing against me." Aside from cause some pain, but it wouldn't be anything close to what he'd endured over the years and wouldn't cause him to falter. "Just like my friend there I'm not simply a vampire, but unlike him, I can't be killed with your wooden stakes. My name is Klaus." He saw some of them freeze; others took steps backwards, fear coming off of them in droves. "I see you've heard of me." That probably shouldn't have made him smile as brightly as it did, but their terror was intoxicating.

Klaus released his hold on the man, holding his hands open in an attempt to show he came bearing no ill will. "Don't worry; I'm not in the market for anymore Hybrids to gather into my service. Simply werewolves. In particular you lot." And he would have them in his service by whatever means necessary. He didn't particularly want to force it out of them, compulsion would work if needed, but he preferred the majority of them to come willingly. Call it an experiment to see if he could.

"I'm aware that you have been skulking around these bayous for the last few hundred years, though usually you managed to stay in one area for more than a few decades. Establishing yourselves in the various towns before necessity made it so you would move on." Usually because of superstitions running rampant and forcing them to leave less their neighbors try to kill them off. Louisiana had always been a hotspot for believers. He could see the older members of the pack looking downward at the memory of how things had been, while the younger generations growled at the safety they had never known. "There was a time you even stepped foot into New Orleans, but it seems some twenty or so years back you ceased to do so and your movements became rather erratic as if you didn't want to be found."