AR One-Shot

I do not own The Vampire Diaries

Mean Spirited

Chapter 1

Elena felt the door give easily at the touch of her finger tips. She paused at the threshold before stepping into the entrance hall. She could see signs of a struggle, claw marks on to wall paper. It was as if an animal had somehow been allowed into the house and had run wild. There was no sign of either of the two Salvatore brothers, and usually they would hear her before she even came to the door. The stillness of the space seemed sinister.

There were shards of glass beneath her feet as she stepped inside. She looked down and saw a picture frame at her feet. The glass frame was broken and she cut her finger on it's sharp edge, dropping it instantly. It broke again on impact on the floor and the photograph inside lay rumpled inamoungst the mess. It was an image she remembered.

Last summer, she and Stephen had gone to the beach. They had taken this picture as they lay on the sand, and she could remember each and every hair on his body. She could still remember the smell of the sea on his skin as he held her. She took the photograph and folded it in half. She felt the prickle of tears as she tucked it into her pocket. It did not really matter, she told herself sternly, the broken memory did not have to mean anything at all.

It was then that she heard the sound of gasping and a voice she recognised. Damon – had he done this? Was he bitter about her choice? He sounded as if he were pleading with someone, as a human would do a torturer.

She did not think about where she was going, she followed the groans, as she flew down the stairs to the basement. Stephen had showed her where he kept the vervain. She reached for the door and puahsed it open.

Elena gasped when she saw his face; his face was normally so beautiful it hurt, the kind that only occured once in a lifetime, but as she stared at him through her fingers she felt repulsed. His blood was bright and crimson on his fair skin.

Stephen heard her and turned. His fist was crimson and his face had a fading wound across his left cheek, as if he had been picking wild berries in the little garden behind the Salvatore Mansion. His eyes were dark and sinister as he looked at anywhere but her face.

Had he been drinking human blood, was that why he seemed so feverish, she worried. He could be unstable and dangerous, he could be deadly, if he lost control and by the dark blood on Damon's cheek he already had. She wanted to run from him screaming, but the same instinct warned her not to move.

Don't move, a familiar voice told her mind, he will kill you if you do.

She glanced at Damon without moving her head. He was staring at her with an intensity that felt like a physical force. Somehow, she was sure his voice in her mind was not a coincidence, and that he had somehow found a way into her head. She would think about this later, and for now she knew she would just have to believe that it was not just a figament of her imagination.

"Elena," Stephen greets her, his voice rough, "I'm so glad you're here..." With one swift movement he had her in his arms. He smiled down at her as if he had no idea that gore coated his lips like dark red paint.

"Stephen?" she greeted him with a small voice that Damon had never heard her use before. It shook and quivered like his prey before he killed them. It was a kitten's call to it's mother, it's protector. Him.

She must see that is Stephen, but her mind refused to prosess the facts. It seemed closed off and Damon wondered if she could even feel his presence as he tried to find a way in. Damn that vervain necklace, he thought.

"I hadn't realised before... how good you taste... you humans... I love you..." the monster whispered in her ear, a growl coming from his stomach. When he said that he loved her it sounded more like a threat – a promise – than anything sinsere.

The space was silent but for his breathing in her ear so his voice in her head was as clear as spoken sound. STEPHEN NO!

He didn't turn from where he was nuzzling her throat, not even when Damon's clawed fingers dug into his own. Damon tore into his artery like a lion does an antelope and brought him to the floor. He saw that he had brought Elena too, but like a lion he could only think of one thing. The Kill.

Stephen collapsed on the ground, moaning and gnashing his teeth. He tore at his own shirt until there was nothing left but tatters. "Damon, I'll kill you!"

Damon gave her a once over and frowned at the mangled flesh of her neck. How could he have let this happen, to her? She was the only thing in this world he cared about more than himself – and he loved himself a lot. He felt as though he were not worthy of touching her like this, but he could not let her go when her eyes were wide in terror.