"I can think of one person who might top that list. Is that really why you’re here? So you can taunt me some more? Is that what you want? You want me to say that I’m miserable, and I hate everything about my life? That you did it, you successfully ruined e v e r y good thing I had. Well, congrats, done. Nothing more here to do. You want to try to punish me some more? Do your worst. I’ve got nothing left to lose.”
“Do tell,” Klaus beckoned, feigning mock-intrigue as he carried on listening to Tyler whilst he additionally spewed. Towards the end of his resentful contretemp however, Klaus sighed exasperatedly and rolled his eyes to exhibit all coherent apathy regarding existing outbursts. “—Pathetic,” The elder at last spoke; his back turned toward Tyler. “I’ll admit, I’m a little disappointed. — To see how easily it was for you to have given up. And I wonder… What ever happened to the retribution you wanted for your mother? — One loss, and that’s it? Here you are waving a defeated redflag? Perhaps, I was wrong about you… You’re not a fighter. All that you are is clearly indisposed, am I right?…”
"I’m trying. But I see my mother’s face in all these people. Do you remember your first kill, Klaus? Did it ever h a u n t you?
———A surprise? What kind of surprise?”
“Vaguely,” He lied. Though, truth however? — He remembered superlatively. As he could very well, still h e a r the blood-curdling screams of his first victim. Could practically still t a s t e the warm plasma as it absorbed itself along the passage of his tongue. But with these memories, he also recalled what happened afterward. His father labeling him an abomination, and the fear to which followed of what Mikael would do to him now that his suspicions were proven right all along. Such remeberance was precisely why Klaus chose not to think about his first few centuries as an immortal.
“You sure do ask one too many questions, sweetheart.
Run along now. —Go grab your things. And soon will
you learn of it."