Klaus Originals Novels & Stories

Klaus. Aaron. Ugo. Tae-jun. And Tina. They didn’t slow down. Didn’t hesitate. They came straight for us. And Klaus— Klaus didn’t look like himself. His eyes were glowing gold, bright and dangerous. His whole body was tense, like something wild was barely being held back. Even the air around him felt heavy, charged with anger. For a second, I couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. You could feel it. His rage. Raw.

I should consider myself lucky it lasted this long. “Didn’t it ever cross your mind that I just don’t want to see your face?” Klaus looked thoughtful for a moment; he even frowned, thinking deeply. “No,” he shook his head. “I mean, come on. Just look at me,” he gestured with his forefinger over his face and body. “I’m Klaus Martinelli,” he announced, chest puffing out as if that explained everything. I made a gagging sound. Klaus pulled out the cooked bacon and hash brown from the skillets.

a voice boomed from the doorway. Silas walked in, followed by Jonas. They looked like they hadn't slept, their eyes bright with the fever of the hunt. Jonas held a tablet, his fingers flying across the screen as he pulled up a map of the city. "Klaus moved three times in the last six hours," Jonas reported, his clinical tone stripping the man of his humanity. "He’s erratic, using burner accounts and shifting through the lower-tier safe houses. He’s trying to create a trail of breadcrumbs, waiting for us to snap."

His hands transformed into massive paws lined with long, curved claws of dark steel, and his golden eyes burned with the unadulterated fury of a predator that had just been unleashed from a cage. With a single, explosive heave of his shoulders, Klaus shattered the three iron pikes holding him down, the metal shafts snapping into kindling like cheap twigs. He lunged upward from the dirt, his massive claws sweeping through the air in a brutal, horizontal arc. The front captain didn't even have time to raise his obsidian shield; Klaus’s claws sliced cleanly through the heavy iron plate armor, sending the man flying across the square until he slammed violently into the stone foundation of the nu

she called, surprised. "I need some urgent information from you!" Klaus stated urgently, his serious eyes hidden behind sunglasses. "You can talk," Aurora agreed. Klaus hesitated for a moment upon realizing they weren't alone. Taking off his sunglasses, his mood shifted abruptly, and he displayed a seductive smile. "How rude of me! Pleasure to meet you, I'm Klaus!" "Frederick. Pleasure to meet a friend of Aurora's," Frederick intervened, extending his hand. "Available whenever you want!" Klaus replied, winking provocatively.

But back to Pierre and his newfound insight into inheritance, would it be a way out? That's a lot of things to think about for someone who spends hours a day hungry. I can't think with my stomach, I have to be sensible. " Speaking alone? I jump back in fright. " Who is it? - I ask, instinctively touching my dagger under my dress. "It's okay, calm down, I don't want to hurt you. " So answer soon, who are you? " My name is Klaus. I live in the neighboring village of Lear. "How do I know if you're lying?

Darius said, already moving towards the door. The three of them sprinted through the hallways, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls. As they approached the lobby, Klaus could smell the acrid scent of explosives. "He's here," he growled, his eyes scanning the area. And then, he saw him - the Humans Firster, standing by the column, a detonator in his hand. Klaus didn't hesitate. With a fierce snarl, he launched himself at the man, tackling him to the ground. The detonator flew out of the man's hand, and Davina quickly grabbed it, her heart racing with fear.

Klaus was seated on amongst the high twelve, because he was the head of the table. By his right hand was Markus Dane, his best friend and brother, as it ought to be. In the dark field, under the blood red moon that settled in the sky that rested above all their heads, Klaus's ears paid attention to the eerie whistling of the wings of the night, and the rustling of the trees, the sound of gossip amongst plants. He was not supposed to keep his ears on the plants and birds, but he would rather do that than listen to the gibberish that was being melted out by members of the lower twelve that were seated around their round table.

“There’s a man in the lobby from LMGK who wants to speak to you.” Klaus groaned and checked his Rolex watch. His very gaudy, very expensive Rolex watch. “Oh GOD… of course this happens to me right now… what’s his name?” he snarled. I uncovered the mouthpiece. “What’s his name, Stan?” “A Mr. Brooks. Mr. Connor Brooks.” “Connor Brooks,” I said to Klaus – who put on the snottiest expression imaginable, like one of the queen bitches from the old Lindsay Lohan movie Mean Girls.

Maxwell replies with a grin. The next hit shatters the door. The wood splinters and falls to the floor in chunks, revealing a tall, solid figure. Klaus. His presence floods the room with an oppressive energy that sucks the air from my lungs. His dark hair falls in unruly strands around a face that might’ve been beautiful—if not twisted in fury and superiority. "There you are," Klaus says, eyes locked on Shadow. His tone is almost amused, but his gaze burns with murderous intent. "Here I am," Shadow replies, stepping forward, placing himself right within the circle drawn on the floor.