Haunted

1. House of Horror

In the shadow of the forest bordering the lush green field a woman screamed. Her howl echoed, the sound bouncing off the trees, as she and another man rolled in the leaves. He was laughing, but not to anything she had said. He was laughing because she was stupid. She thought that the pull he had was charisma, just his dashing good looks, and she had no idea what she was getting herself into. He thought that maybe she had an idea now, as she stared at him in terror. His eyes were dark and outlined by red.

Elena giggled as she and Caroline swayed on the moist grass of the field, the twirling ride behind them having caused this vertigo, until they both fell to the ground in a heap. It felt so good to be outside of her supernaturally charged world and somewhere normal.

Because she knew that this is what normal people did – they had fun without be careful not to fall down and bleed. Not that she particularly wanted to fall down and bleed. She supposed that it was the rebel inside of her that wanted to break the rules, to not have to worry about the little things, and to be like Damon – free and aloof to everything.

She had had enough of roller coasters for a long time, and the event offered little in the way of anything non-too-thrilling, only a haunted house that she knew would not scare her. It might make her laugh, she thought mildly, to be in amongst the fake cobwebs and cheap decorations. But Caroline would freak out if she got any "cobwebs" in her hair, and no amount of teasing from Elena could convince her to enter.

"Why don't we go in there?" she tried, pointing to the iron entrance. Caroline shrugged, her curls bouncing on her shoulders like springs. Elena grinned.

"Why not?" she said.

The entrance fee was a dollar, and Elena handed the man two dollars. She turned and whispered, "My treat." But Caroline had disappeared, and in her place stood a pale figure more than a foot taller. He had brilliant glittering eyes that colour of emeralds and smile that was uneven – amused.

"Hello Elena..." he purred, as he guided her inside the make-shift house, his hand at the small of her back.

Where had her friend gone?

"She decided to go home – she was not feeling well." he told her, as if it reminded him of something funny. Inside, the space was shadowed almost completely but for the neon emergency exit sign in the corner, which she knew instantly she could never get to in time. Damon chuckled darkly.

Slowly, he ran a finger down the side of her neck, across her quivering shoulders, until he caressed her arm. He kissed her skin where he touched, and she could feel his damp lips leave a thick moisture on her skin. She felt as if she were losing herself, although she fought to prevent him from entering her mind. She knew that if he succeeded in penetrating her the fight would be lost.

"Damon... Stop... Please..." she pleaded, her eyes wide in terror. Outside the building there was a near constant hum of voices. She could not have recognised them if she tried – ironic that such a poorly built structure could be more or less sound proof. Nothing would be accomplished by screaming, because after all this was a scary house.

2. To Disappear

He took her into the forest of trees, taking her by the waist in such a way that her feet dangled a foot from the ground. She kicked at him like a child, like Katherine would have, but his agile body could dodge every attempt like he were dancing. His movements were graceful and controlled even as he manhandled her, as if he barely acknowledged her existence.

"Put me down, you – you – you..." she demanded, her long hair like a curtain over her face as she shouted to the ground. She was not in the mood to play his games, but she also wasn't convinced that Damon cared. She had no idea what his plans were and, although she almost never knew his intentions, she found this disconcerting.

"Not yet, Sweetheart," he told her, an ironical tone in his voice, "not until the sun goes down. I can carry you like this almost indefinitely, so shut up." His hands were on either side of her hips and they gripped her flesh and bone. She did not smell like Katherine any more. She smelt like dinner, like flowers, like blood. He breathed her in and growled – he was so hungry.

There were bloody kisses all over her skin, a crimson reminder of the terror inside the Haunted house. Those lips that were so wet on her skin... she shivered and gulped down the sick that travelled up her throat. It was not so much the bloody kisses, with Damon it was all about the blood, but instead the memory of how she enjoyed them. She had let him make her comfortable, and that was her big mistake.

Everything in the forest was silent and still but for her ragged breathing and the fallen branches snapping beneath his feet. She did not say another word for a while, partly because she did not want to anger the vampire and also because if she could close her eyes she could concentrate on something else.

"Why are you doing this – again?" she murmured eventually against his neck. Her breath felt warm and delicious against his skin and she felt him press her closer. She had stopped fighting – but only because she knew it was useless, not because she accepted what he was doing. She knew she had no choice but to play along.

Quicker than she could follow, he pulled something out of his jacket pocket. It was a syringe of translucent liquid. Like a rattle snake, what she saw was the only warning he gave her. He plunged the syringe into her arm and held it there.

She felt her legs and arms grow heavier and saw the world around her disappear. It was becoming dark quickly and the lightness inside her mind increased.

"I can't stop thinking about you..." he told her, then groaned, "I mean, I can't get you out of my head. It's damn annoying you know." There was a pause, and then he continued more quietly, "I don't think you know how much this hurts, don't think anyone does..."

Elena awoke feeling hung over, her head throbbing with every heartbeat. She saw trees and she felt dirt at her back as she lay still on the ground. Around her wrists were thin metal bands that irritated her skin like poison ivy. They itched and dug into her bone so painfully that she struggled to even look at it – there was no way she could pry them off with her fingers. Each time she pulled at it the pressure on her skin only increased and it hurt so much. She was laid on a bed of leaves and was alone.

Damon heard her stir and smiled, the dark thoughts of before pleasantly interrupted. She wouldn't escape him this time; Damon Salvatore had never been one for torture, but she had tortured him, by choosing his brother over him. By choosing wrong. He would show her just how wrong she was.

He found her sprawled across the bed, tears making tracks down her cheeks. The brief glance she gave him was filled with hurt and tears. The hurt he saw there wasn't as a result of the chains leashing her to the bed, but instead for his cruelty. That was the thing, he knew he was being unfair, and he did not mind. Who cared what she thought?

It was Katherine who made him this monster, he thought, it was Katherine who haunted him to this day. Would her memory, her ghost in many ways, ever leave him? Why did he do this to Elena when he loved her more than that memory. Katherine had never been real.

3. Blood Lust

She knew no one would look for her here, not even Stephen, with his keen sense of smell and hunter's instinct. He had been trying to ignore her smell for so long – would he even recognise it if he came searching for her? She thought not. Even with her normal, human, senses she understood that the scent of pine over powered even the smell of her blood.

Because she was bleeding more now than ever and no one came to save her. She felt forsaken even as he brought her neck to his mouth and kissed it. He licked it and the sensation of his tongue brushing her skin made her squirm. She was silent and still, trying not to raise her heart rate, trying not to make it easier for him. She breathed slowly and stared into the heavens, where the first stars were beginning to appear.

He had been feeding on her for hours but hours ago he had been quenched. He drank from her now for no other reason than that he could. He had always had this dark side to him, the need to dominate women, and it always felt good to satisfy the craving. He didn't care any more about her feelings -whether in the end this would distance them further. He didn't care what his brother thought -what anyone thought- no one else mattered but him.

When at last he lifted his head he saw that her eyes were blank and emotionless. Was this how he appeared to others when he himself "Turned Off"? If her chest did not rise and fall he might have thought she was dead. What would he do, then, if he had killed her? He supposed that there would be a sense of satisfaction from seeing his brother suffer, but would it be worth her life just to see that again?

"Elena!" he whispered, close to her ear as if anything around them could be a spy, shaking her gently by the shoulders. Her blood tasted like the sweetest of yoghurt on his tongue and he had gulped it down without thinking, letting the darkness inside him take control. He tried to convince himself that it was Katherine's fault that he had almost killed Elena, but he knew the fault was all his own. He could have stopped drinking if he had really wanted to, if he had loved her enough, because he did not believe that the blood-lust controlled him.

Thinking fast, knowing that she would die if he did not do something fast, he bit deeply into his own wrist. He prayed that the wound be fresh for just long enough.

It took a few moments but she swallowed the life easily, her tongue moving slowly over his skin as she tasted the first drops of blood. Her eyes opened and she looked confusedly up at him, as if she were a patient just now waking up from a coma. Damon thought wearily that he would regret this later, when the adrenaline stopped coursing through his veins.

4. From the Heart

Damon held her tightly in his arms, regretting his hasty decision to turn her, and deciding whether or not she should die. He would have to monitor her closely as she adapted to this new way of life, or death, like a father would watch out for his daughter. His love had changed from something lusty and heated to protective. Was this how Stephen felt when he was with her? Because worrying about her all the time would take a bite out of his Damon-time.

He supposed she would be worth the sacrifice, though. Of course she was. She was every-thing he ever wanted. She wasn't like other women. She did not throw herself at him – she was a challenge. She smelt like spring, like flowers and sunshine and he greedily took her scent in. He stored it with his memories of her so he could relive this time when she was not with him.

When had he turned into such a softy? Her smell? The only time he ever took notice of smell was when he was hunting, in that primal state between man and beast. He shouldn't notice these kind of things of a girl he had no intention of killing. He wouldn't hurt her for the world.

Had Katherine ever smelt this good? Her scent was icy and untainted, because she was a vampire, and Elena's humanness was ebbing away like the tide going out. The only way the tide would come back was if she had just fed from a human.

It was Katherine's fault that he had stolen this from her. If she had not made him a monster he would be long dead by now and this woman in his arms would still be human.

Dammit. Why did her memory always cloud his mind?

At least it was love that made him destroy her, not just some childish desire to have her with him always. He was not like Katherine, if only because he hadn't thought twice about saving her, and only her. There would be no other for him; he would never have to choose, it would always be her.

Elena awoke to the sensation of his thumb stroking her hair. His cologne smelt different than before, as if it had been diluted and weak in her dreams. It smelt of heat and animal desire, both of which she understood better than she ever had before. She could not explain even to herself the difference in the world around her, she only knew that everything had become so much more real.

The walls were not just dark, they were elegant and sort of beautiful like autumn leaves, the colour so strange after a summer of green. She had seen this room before, but it felt like she had never really seen anything.

She could still taste him in her mouth and her tongue was rough on the insides of her cheek as she sought to taste it again. She had no idea what it was, but she wanted it again, now.

How could explain how she felt inside? She felt so calm and relaxed that she wondered if she were still alive at all, and she would have thought she was having an outer-body experience if there was not the burning inside her throat. It hurt so much even to breathe. She knew this was thirst she felt, that she needed something to drink now, but the thought of water made something inside her squirm. She didn't want water although she was dying of thirst.

She opened her mouth to taste the air, everything was delicious to her now, but the arms around her tightened in an unbreakable hold. His strength would have choked her but the burning need for oxygen never came. If not for the searing pain in her throat, she felt numb both inside and out. Suddenly, the wanting to know her situation felt like a need.

"What did you do?" she asked, watching him carefully as his eye lids fluttered open, and he was suddenly so beautiful to her that it hurt. How could she never have noticed just how much his eyes plunged into her soul?

Damon wanted to tell her that he had saved her, but was that really what he had done? By forcibly changing her state, had in fact torn the only connection they had that really mattered, the emotional one? He knew that he himself had become colder towards everyone, and every-thing, when he awoke, but would she become the same if he nurtured her like a daughter?

He realised now that his love for her had changed irrevocably; now he cared for her as he would have his daughter, as if she were family. He did not want to rip her close off and ravage her now, and in fact the thought of doing anything even remotely romantic any more. He wanted to love her, but in a different way.

Would she understand his desire, or would she think that he was just trying to trick her, if he revealed how he felt? With Katherine it had always been the opposite, the line between lover and parent blurred, so that he never felt like he could bring anything to their relationship. With Elena, he could be her protector and he could make a difference. He held dear the possibility that she would love him in the way that he desperately needed. From the heart.

She felt lost for words when he did not answer. He usually was so quick with his remarks that they were cutting, but for now every word he said to her was silent and internal. She wanted to ask him what he was thinking, but the ice-cold steel in his eyes stopped her short. Maybe she didn't want to know.

Damon's ears caught the soft sound of footsteps south of the forest. Maybe his brother had finally found his scent. He heard himself growl and felt Elena stiffen against him, because she heard the faint sound too with her new-born vampire senses. He had almost forgot that she was as tough as nails now and there was only one reason to protect her. He had to protect her from his brother.

You've got mail

Damon knew that the only way he could hide her from his brother was if he could somehow mask her smell. If he got too close, all chance of having her would be lost. And there was no doubt that he had to have her – because without her he would be craving Katherine.

That damn Katherine, damn that hold she had on him, damn his craving he had for her. At least if he kept Elena by his side he could distract himself.

"Say something," he told her, "anything. Distract me."

He thought that she must be only mildly aware of her hand in his, their fingers entwined, but he felt a spark of electricity. He didn't just feel it because he loved her, he loves her, he felt it because he could actually got the buzz whenever their skin brushed. She said nothing of it, but he thought that when he gazed at her she had the faintest of smiles on her lips.

He had to get a hold of reality before he lost his mind.

"I saw this movie once," she began, looking straight ahead at the moss covered trees, "It was about these two people..." she stopped and shook her head, wiping her mind of whatever she had been thinking, "Oh, never mind, forget it."

It was obvious she was talking about the movie 'You've got mail' and he smiled to himself, feeling something inside his chest flutter. He felt like a teenager; was it just coincidence that the one subject she chose to talk about was probably one of the most romantic, vomit-inducing, he'd ever wasted his time watching?

Elena couldn't believe of all the movies she could have chosen she chose the worst one. She did not want to make him think that she liked him like that – except that despite everything he had done she had found herself replacing Stephen's image with his whenever she thought of the future.

Whether this was only a product of her prisoner status, the condition that made hostages fall in love with their captors, or the feelings were genuine she didn't want Damon to have any idea. Or Stephen. She didn't want to be Katherine.

He stopped walking suddenly and stood still, becoming more animal than man in the space of a second. He dropped her hand and she felt it fall to her side. She could not breathe as his face darkened and his teeth grew. She had only ever seen Stephen all primal, and at that time she thought it was the most frightening thing she had ever laid eyes on, but Damon like this made her want to scream. His beauty was erased almost instantly and transformed into a mask so grotesque.

He's here. She knew it, and she was scared.

He met Stephen's midnight eyes squarely with his own. It was obvious to him that his brother had been drinking something a lot more stronger than bunny-blood because of how his instincts fought for control. The monster within him recognised one of it's own and wanted to dominate it. He was not weak, but neither was Stephen.

"What did you do?" Stephen roared, and something about the question made him smile. How interesting it was that whenever Damon tried to help, his brother never appreciated it? Because he had done the right thing, he knew it.

"He saved me," Elena suddenly said, "he's my hero. I love him, Stephen."

Damon's smile grew as he felt the self-righteous conviction swell inside of him. He couldn't have hoped for a better performance – the pain on his brother's face was priceless.

6. Bad Brother

Damon watched as Stephen closed his eyes and whimpered, storing the image for later. Now it was his turn to be the bad brother, and Damon's turn to be good. He was finished with living in the moment, because he had lived that way for a long long time, and now he would live instead for the future. A future with her, with a Katherine that would be capable of loving him back. He had no misconceptions that it would be easy, but Elena would love him in time.

"Now, Now brother you must have seen this coming..." he sneered beautifully, wrapping his arm around Elena's waist and holding her close to his side. He felt his heart beat wildly when she purred an animal purr, like a vampire sex kitten, he thought.

Stephen's eyes were glued to his lost girlfriend, and they seemed to be a a less vibrant shade of green. His pain seemed to radiate from him as light would from a fire – except all the fire had gone from him. He had lost her again.

This was too good, but it was true. He could feel her fitting snuggling against him as if she were part of him now, and he knew that this was always meant to happen. She made this choice on her own, he told himself gladly, because that necklace of her's protected her from compulsion. She belonged to him now, and she was his for eternity.

Stephen felt his heart breaking in two – and it hurt more than he could ever have imagined something inside of him could. This pain was worse than the savage pain of thirst, it worse than stepping into the sun without his ring; worse that catching alight and burning alive, because atleast then he would not have to watch them happy together.

He had known this would happen all along, and even if she did still love him he would not share her with his brother. His brother didn't share, and neither did he, not after Katherine's betrayal. If only he could live through losing her again.

Elena felt herself grow warmer inside for the first time since her parent's death. She had never known that the other brother could plug that whole which had been slowly draining the life out of her. She never knew that she would be happier with Damon than she could have ever been with Stephen, that they were more similar that she knew.

She knew then what sealed their bond; the reason she felt so at one with him, the reason she felt he understood her, was because they were both Haunted by ghosts of the past.

The End