[ klaus has dealt the blows, done the torturing long enough to know when someone's dying, to know how long it might take. he knows by the sound of his heart and the desperation of his breathing that it's probably a toss between blood loss and organ failure.
the lad has more will, more determination, more guts (ironically speaking) than perhaps klaus would've pegged him for, and that was partially the point of this experiment. (people are usually more capable than what they seem, given the right motivation.) it's telling, that he didn't yell despite the agony. it's telling that he'd take the wood and do as he's told when so many might blubber and refuse or make the foolish mistake of attacking instead.
klaus stands and cocks his head to the side, smiles down on him. (the irony is klaus will never trust him. he'll trust his fear, his terror, his own ambition to reclaim himself, but never him.)
he bends to pull the stake from dan's middle, unconcerned with the blood that pours and pumps out. grabs the boy's shirt to drag him to the edge of his bed and sit him up. he kneels beside him, some amusement in his expression as he reaches for the empty apo bol he'd tossed this way.
he veins, his two sets of fangs lengthening, his pupils glowing gold and crimson filling his eyes. klaus bites down into the palm of his hand and squeezes, fills the fruit.
taking hold of dan's chin, he brings it to dan's lips and guides it down his throat. ]
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Date: 2014-07-04 11:00 pm (UTC)the lad has more will, more determination, more guts (ironically speaking) than perhaps klaus would've pegged him for, and that was partially the point of this experiment. (people are usually more capable than what they seem, given the right motivation.) it's telling, that he didn't yell despite the agony. it's telling that he'd take the wood and do as he's told when so many might blubber and refuse or make the foolish mistake of attacking instead.
klaus stands and cocks his head to the side, smiles down on him. (the irony is klaus will never trust him. he'll trust his fear, his terror, his own ambition to reclaim himself, but never him.)
he bends to pull the stake from dan's middle, unconcerned with the blood that pours and pumps out. grabs the boy's shirt to drag him to the edge of his bed and sit him up. he kneels beside him, some amusement in his expression as he reaches for the empty apo bol he'd tossed this way.
he veins, his two sets of fangs lengthening, his pupils glowing gold and crimson filling his eyes. klaus bites down into the palm of his hand and squeezes, fills the fruit.
taking hold of dan's chin, he brings it to dan's lips and guides it down his throat. ]