Disclaimer: These characters and creative property belong to LJ Smith and CW. No copyright infringement is intended. I mean no harm. Crappy plot is mine.
Situates when Damon is being tortured by Rebekah and Klaus and Bonnie find him. My take on what should have happened.
The chains cackled as blood oozed down the contours of his chest. Withdrawals of slacked, disrupted grunts left his slumped form. The trickle like a water drop, hitting the sink, struck the floor instead. He winced, exasperated from being chained and tortured repeatedly. The loss of blood in his system took effect as his gums ached.
The witch, the judgmental, friend and servant of Elena choked at the withered, antagonizing ogle of the mutilated Damon Salvatore. Toured by Klaus Mikaelson in his gigantic mansion, an unspoken tyranny wrought her thoughts. The damned vampire by family and friends consider him a sin beyond redemption. He killed her mother, changed her into something she was not suppose to be. He made her mother disappear from her life, once again. She despised him, yet the nagging emphatic bellows in her brain told her otherwise. There were some justices in the masquerade.
"Save him, love. You are the martyr, the savior in this mess he created." Klaus whispered in her ear, tantalizing her with demeaning honesty. Pleased with her disgruntled shivering and the collection of her upper arms in consolation, he pressed her. "Save him, love. Do what a servant is supposed to do."
The depth of his provocative words was heard by the ears of the murderer, the rapist and the disheartened lovesick fool. Single ounces of guilt were not served in a gilded platter. He had none. The witch held grudges in her stone fist. His motives and implications towards her were met with the stone fist.
"I am no servant!" Bonnie snarled, diminishing the bite of her lower lip. Touching her injured reddening, crimson mark, she left as evidence. Viciously turning counterclockwise to the entrance of the mansion, the guilt ate at her. Damon may be many things but she will not be scripted as a fool.
Aneurysm, the best resort in making an Original falter at her footstep. She glared at his decrepit plunge to the floor, clutching the racking shocks to his brain. Poor whipped Original fainting from her unleashed torment. Mockingly she laughed at his incapability of withstanding this aneurysm. Maybe she enhanced the skill too far. Oh well….
A mad woman in the footsteps of vengeance and temperament, she discarded Klaus. His concoction of victim and vile vampire made no sense for her. Sadistically she adored his anguish, concentrating on the blood draining from his torn and mangled body. "You deserve all the pain, the torture, death even. But I am not like you, nor Klaus." She snapped her fingers, disintegrating the metal confinements.
Damon crashed to the staunch floor, exhausted and gluttonous. Flailing limbs clutched to the flat marble and the wounds on his bleeding thighs. He grunted, sneaking in disapproving frowns at the martyr. What is gratitude? He preferred to be an asshole, than show mercy and consideration for the witch bitch.
Condescending prick on the floor could not even revel in gratitude. At one point in her life, her heart harvested with ice granted superiority. Bonnie, head held high, dignity intact left the two vampires, concluding the aneurysm. She was nobody's pawn. She was her own. She deserved more than servitude.
Maybe she purchased insanity during her time with Klaus and Damon as insane giggles breathed through her systems. Tickling in her funny bone, in her privy, she loved seeing Damon Salvatore down on his knees. Next to Damon is Klaus, the crumbling statue of a durable king was replaced by a thief.
In the darkest shades of night, the star navigated her way home, lighting the direction with the aid of pole lamps. Bonnie, quiet and thoughtful plotted her emotional, abusive trek in the world of vampires and the supernatural, itself. She wanted out. Portion by portion, Klaus' martyr confirmation came radiating again. Conflicted by the waves of contempt in her mixed pleasure, Bonnie decided she would choose her own path. This time, she would unbind the links chaining her to Elena Gilbert and live for herself. She needed it.
She smiled.
Masking the flinches, the stumbling Damon Salvatore in his glory scavenged on human girls nearby. Finally salivating on morsels to accent his hunger, there was the eager lust to rid Bonnie of the throne. The judgmental witch bitch discarded him as if he were trash. She will pay for her insolence.
Drunk in a stupor by the gorging of luscious human blood, he sped to the Boarding House without care if Elena saw the monstrosities he created. He never cared, nor will he ever. Changing for a girl, who looked like Katherine? He had to chuckle like a lunatic. The blood was spiked in his buzzed undead heart. Damon licked his lips, slowly but surely. "Delicious."
In the living room had Klaus lighting a fire, sitting on an arm chair and having a mystic stare of his own. His clouded eyes were mystified by mysteries. Though massively high and drunk at the same time, he knew not to speak of the performance led by Bonnie Bennett. He was not that stupid.
"You make a nasty drunk, Damon." Klaus informed, facing the fire, unchanging his position on the chair. Similar to Damon, Klaus noted, he was peeved by the dominant Bonnie. He preferred her as the meek mouse, serving the cat its meal. Instead she had to give him an aneurysm. Nonetheless, she was quite the attractive dominant tigress.
"The mighty king fallen from grace and onto the feet of a witch." Damon snorted, relegating spews of charred exhales. Near passing out, the twist of his neck put him on the floor. Sprawled on the luxurious carpet, his eyes drifted shut and mouth agape.
Klaus shook his head, clocking his tongue muttering the rudeness of the elder Salvatore. Fortunately this Salvatore is not the one he chose since he found a likely candidate to characterize his goals. Next to belittling Elena, Tyler and the Salvatore brothers, chasing the skirts of Caroline Forbes, his next objective was to alienate Bonnie Bennett and eradicate her from existence. She was too powerful to live. She had the mindset to kill him and she could do so with a batter of an eyelash.
Leaning to the fireplace, elbow resting on the mantle, a single fist on his cheek, Klaus would free the one who is a plausible deviant and partner. Stefan Salvatore.
Speak of the devil, the honorable knight of Elena's maidenhood and golden theatrics arrived. Much fun, he smirked in delight. This is the beginning of a reign and breakdown. The same way Damon strolled in, but far less drunk on euphoria walked the stunned features of Stefan Salvatore. He kneeled to the floor near his brother, checking him for vampire weaknesses.
His brother, Damon Salvatore on the carpet, neck twisted from, who knows who lay quietly. Stefan managed to sneak a glance at Klaus, not before being forced onto the wall. His cheekbones being pressed so his eyes were focused to Klaus' arrogant smirk. "Shit." He realized. He knew Klaus, too well.
"My, my, Stefan it is astounding to see you here." Klaus greeted, pressing further to the wall where a dent was made. He cleared his throat, a source of compulsion surging. The days of reckoning and bowing to a woman would be over. As long as he had a partner to obey every command, he would be fine. "Actually it should be Ripper."
Sorry for the mistakes and grammatical errors.
This is kinda dark Bonnie I guess and Bonnie in a moresome relationship (Dream fanfic). I don't know if I should continue this...
Don't hurt me with criticism. I damage easily.