(CHAPTER FOUR :
THERAPY CIRCLE)

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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.

"There's something else." Klaus stated confidently.

Did I trust Klaus? No. Yet, I couldn't help but confess my sins to him, desperate to avoid desiccation. "It doesn't matter that I'm a tenth of your age, there's some things I've done that would make even you give me a standing ovation." I exhaled in defeat. "Like I said, everything I touch dies. That night — the night you 'died' — was a rerun that I watched too many times. Apologies if the truth of my emotional breakdown is too mundane for you." I mocked him to cover up the itch of sadness that came with the mention of my past. Thomas, Grace, Cole and all the other people I lost as a consequence of myself plagued my mind.

"You'll always be too mundane for me, just like you'll always be too mundane for Kol." Klaus rolled the blood vial in my direction, laughing as I scrambled to pick the item up with my bound hands. "But, you also just proved that you're undeniably toxic. So, either you turn you humanity back on for the sake of my brother or I let a werewolf bite kill you. I suppose that's something we have in common, everything I bite dies." He warned, the venom being literally and figuratively in his bite.

If there was one thing I was completely confident in, it was Kol Mikaelson's infatuation with me. "Try it. Kol would never forgive you." I assured him.

"Maybe not." He agreed. "Luckily, I can live with that."

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Klaus insisted he was busy, which made me suspicious. Unfortunately, my compromising position meant I couldn't enquire into why he kept entering and exiting the cellar. Often, he would try to coax me into welcoming my humanity, but he seemed more distracted as time went on. Almost as if he wasn't even putting any effort into threatening me.

Heavy footsteps struck like thunder against the floor, which I would have heard even without the aid of my supernatural hearing. Knowing my captor was near, I blew defiant strands strands of my coiled blonde hair out of my eyes so I could glare at him. "More vervain?" I presumed, feigning a yawn.

Darkly, he chuckled. "I've got other priorities to attend to and you, sweetheart, are starting to waste my time." In the dim light, I rose a curious brow at the silver dagger that glinted behind his back. It was a more dated approach than I expected from a man with his reputation. However, when he brought the weapon into view, I struggled to withhold a choked gasp. Of course it was no ordinary dagger, it was mine. In spite of it being over a century, I hadn't been able to erase the picture of the bronzed handle with the symbols I couldn't understand and the vibrant red of my blood that stained the dagger to this day.

"You're immortal, time should be the least of your concern." I remarked, repressing the urge to comment on what he held in his hand. Pursing my lips, I lasted one minute, two, then . . . "Do you always keep souvenirs when you murder or should I feel special?" I finally spluttered, narrowing my eyes.

"Technically, it was suicide." Klaus shrugged, sliding the blade across the palm of his hand, barely brushing the surface of his skin.

I scowled unattractively. "Stop with the games." I demanded. "Either tell me what do I owe the absolute pleasure of your company or be productive, find the nearest White Oak and jump on it." I suggested in a saccharine manner.

Swiftly, he sliced an open wound across my cheek. "This dagger killed you, it killed your humanity." Klaus reminded me of that treacherous morning. "For the last time, we can do this the easy way or the hard way . . . I want you to turn it on, Charlotte." The Hybrid plead his case for the final time, lacing his voice with a malice that asserted his control. By flaunting the weapon that killed me the first time, he knew he would draw out a past attachment I had failed to severe.

Time passed, I don't know exactly how long — all I knew for sure was that my pause of reflection was deafening and tense. "You know," I began softly, "I like it hard. Just ask your brother."

"Bad move." Klaus barked, making a clean cut along my neck with the dagger.

Water leaked out of my eyes without my permission, the scream of a Banshee escaping my mouth as scarlet blood spurted of a vein. Satisfied with my screeching, he pressed the knife deeper, making it more obvious that he had laced the weapon with vervain as I realised I wasn't healing like I should. Clamping my eyes shut, I squashed the feelings — all the pain, the anger and the fear — that had been battling their way to the frontline. Blank faced again, I remained neutral for the pursuing hours he punished me.

Releasing a long breath, I opened my mouth with the intent of being snarky about the fact the notorious Klaus Mikaelson had failed at bringing back my humanity. Just as I thought he had waved the white flag, the man cracked. His lips curled into a sadistic smirk, the air turned taught and the beast pounced without warning this time. With one hand around my neck, the elder vampire applied pressure to my open wounds, the Antarctica in his frost irises freezing me into submission.

"I can see it." 'Even his breath was cold,' I thought. "You learn to figure out the signs after a thousand years. I don't like you, but don't fight your emotions — they're the one thing I find remotely tolerable about you. Without them, there would be no fight in you and that is what makes or breaks you." Klaus lectured, dipping his head into the crook of my neck, his canines elongating.

"You wouldn't bite me." I insisted, regaining some small sense of movement as I tried to shake him away from me.

Accepting the challenge, the Mikaelson's eyes illuminated yellow. Klaus was to be feared and in order to prove that, he howled and proceeded to rip into the soft porcelain of my neck without a care in the world. "Don't tell me what to do, love." The Original murmured, detaching his teeth from my neck with a satisfied lick of the lips.

Whimpering in disbelief, I strained my hands to find my neck. He bit me — Klaus Mikaelson actually bit me and that meant Death was clinging to me. The only question was, would the Hybrid bite seal my fate before Mary-Alice's curse did?

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A.N: Little shorter than normal and not proof read yet, but I just wanted to give you a double update after being gone so long. And this was another filler chapter so I wanted it out the way. Next chapter will be lots of flashbacks though, which should be good!

Do you have any book recommendations? Whether it be a fanfiction or published work.