Ok, hi ;)
Most of you won't know me, so…I'm DelenaRain, and I'm a HUGE DE shipper.
I'm not so sure about this story…I feel like you guys might not like it, read it, or review it.
Whatever, I felt like posting it. This is Chapter 1, I'll continue if you guys want me to ;)
Leave a review, pleeeeeease, and enjoy!
IMPORANT: THE SETTING FOR THIS STORY IS AU. IT'S A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT WORLD.
If she could, Elena would fight. She would tear her way out of the burning ropes that held her ankles and wrists together, and murder the monsters that were doing this. She would never let herself feel this helpless and alone, ever again.
But she couldn't. They'd kill her; whoever was doing this. She'd die a slow, painful death, knowing that there was nothing she could do about it; no way to stop or prevent it.
So she didn't. She sat there, chained to the wall, listening as the cart she sat in bumped up and down the road, creating a new bruise on her already black and blue back every few minutes.
Where were they taking her? Who were they taking her to? These were all questions Elena desperately wanted answers to, and yet she couldn't get any if she tried. Before, there'd just been her and the orphanage, and the dull pain of knowing she was alone in the world. Now, she was heading to unknown terrors.
She'd been sold. As a slave.
When they reached the age of 17, the orphanage kicked them out, and left them to be sold to slave traders. And that's what had happened to her. That was the world she lived in.
She'd been sitting on her bed, in her room, when the head of the orphanage had come, telling her it was time to go. Elena knew exactly what she had meant.
She thought back to yesterday morning. They'd taken her from the orphanage, and then she'd been put in a wagon and taken to the market. And then she'd been sold to slave traders, who had taken her to another market last night. She'd been sold for a second time, and now here she was. They'd informed her this is where she would stay, at least for quite some time. Working for some vampire, they'd said.
Whoever he was, this vampire, she hated him already.
The wagon hit a bump in the road, and Elena's head hit the back of the wooden cart, causing her to let out a small whimper. The wooden cart, wagon, -whatever it was- she sat in was tiny, and she was in the back, left alone to deal with her tears and pain. The driver was up the front, but she really couldn't care less about him.
The wagon came to a halt, and Elena's stomach lurched in fear. They'd arrived. She brought her knees up to her chest, hugging them as best she could with her bound hands.
The door swung open, and rough hands pulled Elena out. The driver grabbed her arm and dragged her along with him, wherever they were going. Elena's eyes were blurry from tears, and she could barely see a thing. It was dark outside, and she realized they must have been traveling for quite some time.
They were going up a dirt road, heading for a large manor. Elena's stomach churned at the sight of it. So this was the place she'd spend the next year in.
Someone was waiting on the porch for them. Elena couldn't quite make out whom through the darkness, but she guessed it was a man. Was this the vampire she'd been sent to be a slave for?
"Your delivery, sir." The driver said gruffly, and Elena swallowed. So it was a man, and it was the vampire. Her new master.
The driver pushed her to the ground, and Elena fell on her knees, willing herself not to cry. She curled into a ball, terrified.
She could hear footsteps as the man walked down the porch steps, coming towards her.
Elena shut her eyes tightly and her hands curled into fists, preparing herself for whatever was to come.
Damon sat impatiently on the porch, tapping his foot against the wood. How long did it take a slave delivery to get here?
One of his friends had bought him a slave as a Christmas present. He'd thought it to be a joke at first, since he already had many of them, but now here he was, waiting for her to get delivered. For a mere second, Damon wondered if this girl was attractive. Would she prove to be useful?
He watched as a wagon finally pulled into the driveway, and he stood up. The door opened, and he squinted in the darkness, using his vampire eyesight to watch as the driver of the wagon pulled something out.
Damon could hear a whimper coming from the girl, and he smirked. This would be fun. He hadn't had a new slave in a while, and they were always terrified of him when they first came.
He watched as the driver dragged the girl up the dirt pathway, coming to stop in front of the porch as he spotted Damon.
"Your delivery, sir."
He threw the girl on the ground, and she fell to her knees, curling into a ball.
Damon nodded at him, and the driver turned and left, heading back to the wagon. The girl was still on the ground, visibly shaking.
Damon cocked his head to the side, studying her. She wore a ripped white dress that seemed to fit her in all the right places. Her olive skin was covered in bruises and dried blood, and he smirked. So she'd dealt with pain before. She had long, chestnut brown hair that fell down her back in perfectly straight lines – although it looked like it hadn't been brushed in ages.
He made his way down the porch steps slowly, then strode towards her. Damon crouched in front of the quivering girl, taking her slim wrists in his hands. She raised her head timidly, and he placed his fingers under her chin, tilting her face upwards.
Damon drew in a sharp breath. She was extremely beautiful, more so then any woman he'd ever seen before in his many years as a vampire.
There were dried tear tracks on her face, and he studied her brown doe eyes and beautiful features for a moment before coming to the conclusion that she was probably still a teenager, around the age of 17-18.
"Your name?" He asked quietly, patiently awaiting her answer. She drew in a ragged breath.
"E-Elena."
He nodded. So she had a beautiful name too.
Damon wondered if she was aware of the terrible year she had ahead of her.
Warm hands encircled Elena's wrists, and she looked up in shock, squinting through her blurry eyes to see the man.
Fingers slid under her chin, tilting her face upwards, and she flinched at the unexpected contact. She heard the man draw in a sharp breath, and she finally managed to rid her eyes of the tears and get a good look at him.
Elena bit back a gasp. He was inhumanly beautiful. The man's eyes were the bluest she'd ever seen; eyes that you could drown in just by looking at. His hair was dark, the colour of a raven, and his skin was fair.
She watched as he stared at her for a few moments, before he spoke.
"Your name?"
Elena's hands trembled. His voice was like smooth velvet, wrapping itself around her everywhere.
She drew in a ragged breath. "E-Elena."
He nodded, pausing for a moment before speaking again.
"Well, Elena. I'm Damon. Damon Salvatore. I am your master now, do you understand?"
Damon. The name suited him perfectly. She nodded quickly, as he waited for an answer.
"Good. Now. Let's get you inside."
His voice was now cool, and Elena' heart skipped a beat. Suddenly, Damon's eyes didn't look so innocent anymore. They looked cold, and distant. She was scared.
He led her inside the house, keeping a firm, unbreakable grip on her wrist. Elena knew not to try anything – at least not now. He was a vampire. He could – and would – tear her throat out anytime he wanted.
Damon led her into a large room, complete with leather sofas and a crackling fire. He pulled her into the light by the fire, staring at her coldly.
"Witch." He said darkly, and Elena realized then that they weren't alone. A dark skinned woman appeared, a weary look on her face.
"I want you to brand Elena here." Damon said, not an ounce of kindness in his voice.
A cold sweat broke out on Elena's forehead. Brand? What the hell did that mean? She swallowed thickly, looking to Damon for answers.
He grabbed her, pulling her to his chest, and Elena gasped.
"This is going to hurt a little, Elena." His cool breath tickled her ear, and she shivered. The witch sighed and looked her up and down, before speaking.
"Hold out your wrist."
Elena swallowed again, extending her arm slightly. The witch grabbed it and she flinched in fear, trying to back away. Her back hit a wall of muscle and she looked behind her to see Damon blocking her way out.
"Don't move." His voice was like ice.
The witch began to chant, and a searing pain shot through Elena's arm. She cried out in pain, a tear slipping from her eye. Something was burning her wrist, marking it. The witch continued chanting, before stopping after what seemed like an eternity.
Elena immediately jerked her hand back to her body, wiping away her tears furiously and staring at her wrist. She now had the letter 'D' engraved on her olive flesh, and she gasped in anger.
Damon nodded at the witch and grabbed Elena's arm, tugging her along with him as he made his way up a large flight of stairs. They came to the second floor, which was furnished just as richly as the first.
Hope swelled in Elena's chest. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad! Maybe…maybe she'd be given one of these nicer bedrooms. It was worth believing in, wasn't it?
Damon sneered at her. "Did you honestly believe you'd be getting a bedroom here?"
He chuckled coldly, and Elena's eyes filled with tears, the hope immediately disappearing.
They continued up the stairs, passing another floor, until they reached the fourth. Unlike the soft carpets that had covered the floor in the other levels of the house, the ground here was wooden floorboards.
There was a crack in the roof, and Elena could see moonlight streaming in. Beds with iron frames were pushed against the walls opposite each other. There looked to be about 16 of them.
"These are the slave quarters." Damon smirked down at her, and she let out a whimper.
"B-but…it's freezing up here!" She said, gesturing to the crack in the roof. "And…there's no blankets on the beds, only mattresses without covers…how am I supposed to sleep? A-and, where do I go to the washroom? Am I allowed to come downstairs?"
Elena regretted the words the second they were out, and she instantly knew she'd made a grave mistake in voicing her opinion. Damon's eyes had gone dark, and before she knew it, her head was facing the side of the room.
Elena's hand came up to cradle her cheek, tears brimming in her doe eyes. He'd slapped her. She turned her face back to Damon, cupping her red cheek. Elena bit her lip, willing herself not to cry.
Not here. Not in front of him. She couldn't give him the satisfaction.
"When you speak out of turn, that is what happens." Damon growled. "Did I ask you to speak? Did I?"
Elena slowly shook her head, keeping her eyes on the ground.
Damon smirked. "Exactly." He shoved her towards the bed, and she stumbled, her toe catching on the post. A shock of pain shot through her foot, and she whimpered.
Damon laughed cruelly. "You're right, it is quite cold up here. And yes, I realize there are no blankets, pillows, or covers on the mattresses. Nothing to cover yourself with." He smirked. "Guess you'll have to figure that one out yourself."
He turned for the door. "You use the washroom when I say so, you eat food when I say so. You are not allowed to come downstairs without my permission when you're not working. You will go to bed now, and don't you dare step out of this room. I'll come for you tomorrow morning, and take you downstairs. We'll go over your schedule then, and I'll inform you of your duties."
Damon glanced around for a second. "It's still quite early. Usually the slaves I keep get to bed at around 1AM and get up at around 5 AM. They'll be in soon I guess."
Elena nearly choked. Only 4 hours of sleep each day? She drew in a shaky breath.
Damon smiled coldly at her. "Sleep well, sweetheart." He shut the door behind him, and the lock clicked.
Elena burst into tears, lying down on the mattress and curling into a ball. Her life was officially over. Clearly, her new master was completely and utterly evil. She was surprised he'd only hit her when she'd spoken out.
There hadn't been an inch of kindness in his voice, stance…anything.
Damon started down the stairs, listening carefully for her reaction. He heard Elena burst into tears, and he stopped for a moment. Maybe…no. He rolled his eyes. Had he really been about to feel a little guilty?
He heard the groans of the mattress springs as she climbed onto it, and listened for a moment longer to her agonized cries before rolling his eyes for a second time and continuing downstairs. Elena was a fighter, he knew she was. The way she'd spoken out just proved that.
Not for much longer, though. She had a long day ahead of her tomorrow, and he wondered if she'd survive it unbroken; still a fighter.
Elena's cries turned into sobs, and she looked out the window at the moon, trembling. She was freezing cold, starving, desperately had to go the washroom, and absolutely terrified.
Was this really what her life had turned into? She desperately clutched the locket around her neck, holding onto it for dear life. Inside was a picture of her, Jeremy, and their parents. And now they were all dead, except for her.
And now she was left all alone with her pain and broken heart, with this evil man Damon Salvatore.
Review if you want to see the next day!
Ok, so chapter one done. I'll continue if I get some sort of response to this story, maybe a review? *Smiles hopefully*
Can't believe we have to wait till January 17th…ARGH IM SO MAD
Anyways, drop a review please? Yes? No? Continue? Forget?
~DelenaRain