His house was exactly as I remembered it, though I can't say I did much exploring past where I'd been required to go.

"This is it?"

A room on the second floor stood before me, white walls and soft carpet. A small desk in the corner and a four poster bed opposite it.

There were no windows, and everything in the room was exclusively white. It was so bland and didn't match the rest of the house at all.

Klaus stood behind me, chest nearly brushing my back. He was too close. "What were you expecting?"

"I don't know, more cement, chains maybe." Klaus Mikaelson was rumored to be a skilled torturer for those who angered him, if they lived long enough that is.

That's what I was expecting.

"If it's chains you desire, I can certainly provide that." It wasn't threatening, maybe even bordering on suggestive.

Heat crawled up my neck, coloring my cheeks.

There was no way he was flirting. "That's-" I cleared my throat. "That's not necessary."

He smirked. "Well go on."

As soon as I stepped through the door frame, I felt something. Like it was sealing me in, tying me to this place. I turned to see Klaus with his hands behind his back, the picture of ease.

"What just happened?"

"I do not tolerate those who run away from me." His eyes bore into mine. "For the time being, you cannot leave this room, much less this house."

"But why? Why not just kill me?"

Klaus' brow lifted. "Is that what you want?"

I felt like I was being scolded. "No."

"You are the last of my hybrids, bar young Tyler Lockwood, and I won't have you disobeying me the moment it's available to you."

"So what? I'm a prisoner here until you deem fit?"

"Yes. The moment you set foot on the property, you sealed the spell work, but your room was just an added measure. Once you've earned my trust, I will allow you outside these four walls."

"And can you enter?" Could Kol? The very idea left a sour taste in my mouth.

Klaus' eyes narrowed as if considering. "The boundary would let me in, yes."

A sick feeling rolled in my gut. "Would it let Kol in?" I was trapped, with no way out.

An easy target.

"It would not."

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. So I was safe so long as I didn't have Klaus' trust- well only one Original had access to me, which was better than both. "And you're not going to torture me?"

His head tilted. "I wouldn't say that."

What the hell did that mean?!

Instead of saying anything else, he shut the door.

...

The first week, wasn't that difficult. I had nothing to do but meditate.

Klaus didn't visit, no one did.

However, small, bland meals would be there when I woke up.

Nothing colorful, I noticed.

In fact the only thing containing anything but white were the clothes on my body. There were some in the closet, but those were just as depressing as the rest of this place.

I refused to change, refused to shower.

It was the little things, little disturbances that told me Klaus was in here when I was least aware, whether it be when I was so exhausted that even the lights, which never turned off, couldn't stop my from falling asleep or when I was so deep in mediation I didn't notice until after.

I didn't like the vulnerability.

So instead, I sat in the middle of the room, and focused on a method my mother taught me. She knew vampires could watch memories, and she hated the intrusion.

She took note from some old books she read, researched until near the end of her life, and meditated.

You were supposed to image some sort of storage facility, like a library, a hallway, or a filing cabinet.

Then you had to sort your memories, put the worst of the worst in the very back, under lock and key, and leave the happier memories in places where you have ease of access. I knew it was a little crazy, but it helped calm me.

Helped me separate situations from emotions.

And in some fucked up way, it worked.

...

By the third week, I'd explored every inch of this place.

There was no escape.

And I was kind of desperate for some human interaction.

I even relented, and finally took a shower. The smell was getting to me. I had no other choice but to wear the fresh clothes in the closet, by the time I drew the curtains back, my original clothes were gone. Presumably taken while I was unaware.

How hadn't I heard?

It scared me more than anything that I was more upset that he hadn't spoken to me, than that he took my things.

Was he watching?

Shadows began dancing on the walls during my meditation session, taking forms that had me sweating.

Sometimes it'd be my own pack, scoffing at me for being so weak.

Other times it was the hybrids, pointing and laughing.

But the worst?

Was when he would show up.

Logically, I knew he couldn't touch me, that he wasn't real.

That didn't stop my hands from shaking. Didn't stop me from hiding under my blankets, as if that ever stopped the monster from hurting me.

...

I'd taken to trying to catch glimpses of the elusive hybrid.

By the fifth week, though I wasn't exactly sure, there was no clock or window for me to track time, I was desperate.

Holding any kind of composure seemed ill conceived when all I wanted was someone to talk to.

The meditation seemed to do nothing.

My mental locks had been checked twice, three, even four times in the last hour.

There was nothing to do.

A couple of times, I thought I heard a voice on the opposite side of the door, and I must've been hallucinating.

It was just like the shadows.

There was no escape, I wasn't going to get out. Klaus had thought of everything.

I couldn't even break anything, as soon as the thought crossed my mind, the furniture felt like it was cased in heavy lead, ensuring I couldn't fashion a stake and end it.

...

By the sixth week, I'd taken to sobbing by the door, uselessly praying that I'd be let out.

I could've sworn I heard it open, but I refused to look up, instead I wrapped my arms tighter around my knees, and buried my head in them.

It was just a trick.

Just a trick.

A cruel trick brought on by the shadows.

A trick.

A trick.

A trick.

A tri-

"Hello, little tempest." Klaus crouched down in front of me.

For a moment I didn't care that he was the one to lock me in here, that he was the very reason shadowy figures haunted me.

I threw my arms around his neck and sobbed.