six feet under
The dry scent of musk and dirt assaults her senses as she comes to, sputtering, eyes wild and searching. Darkness greets Caroline, the pitch blackness of it of it all sending a spark of fear through her like a blazing fire. She panics, hands flying up to slam against wooden boards, lined tightly up against one another. Dust and dirt scatter upon impact and Caroline chokes, gasping for much needed air. She squirms, looking for wiggle room; this is none. Her feet slam against the bottom as she twists and turns, screaming in trepidation. "Help," she yells, the worlds ripping from her lips like a lost prayer.
That is when the horrible dawns on her: she has been buried alive. That is the only explanation for all the dirt, the blackness. She is lying in her own coffin, six feet under. Only, she is not human. She won't die of suffocation. She'll slowly wither, conscious for every excruciating second as she starves into a shriveled up old husk; never finding relief, all of eternity spent in a pitiful grave. "Oh my god," she cries, tears spilling from her eyes. She covers her face with her hands, sobbing. She can already feel the air getting thinner. Soon, she will have no more air to use to call for help.
She slams against the top again hopelessly. "Help, dammit," she screams, throat going raw as it's clogged with dust particles.
Hours pass, perhaps even days, time is relative. After a while the air grows too thin and she ceases screaming, resigning herself to her fate. She feels the scratch of hunger in her gut; the way her body aches for blood, wishes for her to rip into some poor unsuspecting soul's jugular. Her gums ache, fangs threatening to elongate. She begins to lose hold of what is real and what isn't. Through it all, she lays back, tears long dried up, and thinks on her life.
She thinks of her mom; how lonely she'll be without her there. How she will throw herself into work and probably get herself killed without Caroline to save her. Ripped from this world, just as her father was.
She thinks of Elena and Bonnie, her closest friends in the whole world. She worries they will have a falling out; that Elena will ask for too much and Bonnie will fall apart. She worries Bonnie will lose herself in magic or end up dead at the sacrifice of one of the Salvatore brother's magical demands.
Tyler; she hopes he is happy. Her minds drifts to Hayley, who is pretty, and despite everything, a good friend to Tyler. She hopes they find in one another what she and Tyler could never make work.
Her thoughts settle on Matt, the first boy to make her heart sing, and she finds her self hoping against hope that he gets the hell out of Mystic Falls. That he finds himself a nice, normal girl and they live happily ever after.
The last thought she has is of Klaus. She regrets it, not giving him a chance. Despite all his misgivings, she saw something in him that only he could give her. Adventure. Life worth living. Perhaps, even, an ever lasting love. Caroline laughs, the sound pathetic and sad. She never asked for any of this. She doesn't want to die.
Klaus saved her once. How she wishes he was here, pulling her from the ground…
"Caroline," a voice growls.
And it is suddenly so bright, the rush of oxygen hitting her like a wall, breathing life back into her. She sighs, thinking she must have arrived at the end. Because there stands Klaus, her broken and ancient knight, angry worry etched into his familiar features.
"Klaus," she says through cracked lips.
His face moves into her line of vision and he blurs in and out of existence. "Don't speak," he demands, lips twisting to an angry scowl. She feels the warmth of his arms wrap around of her and she has the faint sense of being lifted up.
"Did I… die?" she questions into his warm chest.
His chest rumbles slightly. "No, love," he says softly, "I do very much doubt I would be present in your heaven."
Caroline fists her hands in his shirt, the impact of his feet against the ground slowly bringing her back to reality. "I regretted it," she whispers, voice small.
She feels her being placed int a vehicle, covers being thrown over her. "Regretted what?" he asks gruffly, wiping a smudge of dirt off her face.
"That I didn't give you a chance."
Klaus stills. She watches as his eyes darken and his lips form a hard line. "We will speak about this tomorrow," he promises, voice hard and sure, eyes admiring.
Caroline is starting to realize this isn't a hallucination. She really is no longer stuck in that horrible makeshift coffin. "Who did this to me?" she asks, albeit a bit fearfully.
Anger takes Klaus' features by storm. "Rest assured, they have been dealt with."
She shivers at the intensity in his voice. "Thank you."
Klaus' features soften. "Rest," he demands and he's gone, just like that.
Sleep takes her then.