Author's Note: Hello ! This is something I've been wanting to write for a while, I just had to wait for the perfect time to do so.
Happy reading!
I don't own The Vampire Diaries.
Three.
In the past two days, they had brought only three evil souls to Cade so he could feast on them. The devil wasn't going to be satisfied.
Damon Salvatore looked at his brother and his new victim exasperatedly, propping his shoulder against the blood-splattered wall. He was supposed to be the reckless, ruthless monster, deviating from the job they were assigned to do. He was supposed to be the one looking for distractions, messing with innocent girls, only to kill them in the end. But this wasn't the case. This time, Stefan was out of control. He simply didn't care about who deserved to go to hell and who didn't; all he cared about was his thirst for blood, gore and fun. Normally, Damon would be perfectly fine with that. They could become the most notorious serial killers of all times, never getting caught. But this wasn't about what he or Stefan wanted. This was all about Cade.
One thing Damon Salvatore was afraid of more than anything was hell, and he certainly wasn't going to visit it ever again. As Stefan dropped yet another miserable dead girl on the floor, the older brother decided it was about time he interfered.
"Heey, Freddy Kruger. I'm all about being super bad guys, messengers of death blah-blah-blah kind of stuff, but maybe you could stop binging on good citizens and make yourself useful for once?"
Stefan inhaled deeply, his chin smeared in blood. Cold, smarald hues fixated on his brother, one hand raising to wipe his mouth. The dark veins under his eyes began to fade slowly; instead, his lips turned into a malicious smirk.
"Good or bad, who cares? So either join me or get the hell out. You're ruining all the fun."
"Hmm." Damon mimicked his brother's smirk sarcastically, stepping closer to him.
''Well, let me see. The boss of hell cares, for example? You know, the one we're serving? The personification of evil, black suit, boring face. Ring a bell?"
"Thank you for the heartfelt description, Damon. I think your partner remembers me just fine. I'm not easy to forget."
The voice that reverbated through the abandoned house made the Salvatores' freeze. Even Stefan, with his usually nonchalant, care free façade clenched his jaw in tension. Cade scrutinsed them both, pleased by the reaction he got from them. He started to pace calmly, glancing at the multitude of corpses on the floor. It was not often the devil came on earth in person and if he did, it must have been for a really important cause. Damon crossed his arms over his chest, trying to gather the confidence he had lost for a minute. The silence was oppressive.
"Cut the suspense. Why are you here?"
"Now, now." replied Cade, shaking his head. "How impatient you are. If you must know, I'm disappointed in you. You too, Stefan. I expected you to be a much rational ripper."
Damon raised his eyebrows, not being able to surpass a mocking laugh.
"Rational ripper? Too many r's. They just don't fit. But don't worry. My brother is gonna change real quick and actually do what we're supposed to do. Right, Stef?" The Salvatores exchanged suggestive looks. No matter how much Stefan pretended to not care, he still did about a special someone: Caroline and her children. He would never do anything to jeopardise them. He exchanged his own life to keep them safe, to offer them a somewhat normal life.
"Ye-yes." responded the younger Salvatore, eyeing Cade cautiously. None of them had any idea what was the devil going to do; he was unpredictable, which was exactly why they needed to be very careful. One more wrong step and everything could fall apart.
"I was in no doubts. However, I'm not too happy with the progress you two have made. You know why? Because there is no progress." The imposing man placed his hands into his pockets. "So you've left me with no choice…- "
"Oh, come on. We might've been a little lazy these days, but we're still the best servants you could ever ask for." interrupted Damon, tone filled with false charm and accompanied by a charismatic smile. "No need to take it out on the little munchkins."
Cade's diabolical laugh sent cold shivers down Damon's back. He inched closer, graciously avoiding the corpses on the floor, intimidating them with a superior look. The lights suddenly began to flicker, the lamp swinging violently from the ceiling.
"You think I was going to punish the little girls for your idleness?" The man was beginning to lose his patience, his eyes glinting with irritation. "I'm no beast. What I have prepared for you is of different nature. It's a companion."
"A companion?" inquired Stefan, his expression impregnated with pure surprise.
Damon was not expecting this. A punishment of any form – of course. A warning, some threats, maybe even a day spent in hell. But a companion… "What kind of companion?" he asked, curiosity getting the best of him. "Please tell me it's not Sybil. Or Seline. Or any other siren. I'm so done with them."
"You are in no position to choose, vampire." Cade spat. "But as a matter of fact, it's not a siren. It's one of your old, old acquaintances. One who will keep you both in control. She always has, after all."
"Who…" Damon didn't continue; there was no point. Cade had already disappeared, leaving them more confused than ever. He frowned, hands tightening into fists. "Bravo, Stefan. Are you having fun now? " he asked as harshly as he could. But Stefan wasn't paying attention to him anymore; he seemed to look past his silhouette, at something else, his mouth agape. The older Salvatore narrowed his sapphire eyes, eventually turning to see what was Stefan staring at.
A slender figure, dressed all in black. High heels. Luscious lips denoting seductiveness, her sangria smile the embodiment of sweet triumph. Curls cascading down her shoulders; dark eyes sparkling wildly. Damon's heart missed a beat. He forgot to breathe, feeling like something had stuck into his throat and he couldn't even speak. He gulped hardly, shaking his head slowly in disbelief.
"Katherine…" Stefan's weak voice reached to Damon's ears as if it were in a dream. This was a dream – it had to be. There was no way Katherine Pierce, the woman he loved for more than 145 years, the woman who destroyed him, his nemesis, was standing right in front of him. The woman he tortured on her death bed. The woman who was supposed to be dead. But somehow, she wasn't. Not anymore.
"My, my. It seems you Salvatores just can't get enough of me." The same saccharine, playful tone.
Damon exhaled sharply.
"I need a drink."
I know this is a little bit short! I promise if the story will prosper, I will write longer chapters. Please review and tell me if you like the idea! :)
Everything will be explained in the next chapter.