Las Cruces, New Mexico. April 2002.
Damon walked up the old brick sidewalk to the Burke's home. He had driven to Las Cruces immediately when he had received the cryptic phone call from Marie Burke.
"Damon, it's me. Someone's here. I think they've taken Ben." Her voice had dropped to a whisper at that point. "They're upstairs now. They're coming. Damon you have to get Calla. You—" The call had been cut off after a short scream. Damon had never even had time to respond to Marie. He had run out of the apartment building he had been in with vampire speed, stopping quickly to steal and hotwire the nearest car. From where he was, it was a two-hour drive to Las Cruces, even if he were to push the car to its limits and break every speed limit and traffic law there was.
The house was dark as Damon walked up the three stairs that led to the front door. He didn't need to knock, nor break it down. With just a push of his fingers, it opened silently. He looked at the latch and noticed it had been forced open. Stepping just inside the parlor of the home, he stopped. Cocking his head to one side, he listened.
The place was silent. Deadly silent.
There wasn't a heartbeat in the home. Damon's brow furrowed as he stepped toward the kitchen. He picked up the smell of blood, specifically the fairly distinct smell of Burke blood. Pushing open the swinging kitchen door, Damon saw Benjamin Burke laying a small pool of blood on the kitchen floor. His eyes were open and blank, and Damon turned out of the kitchen and followed the winding staircase to the second floor.
He turned and walked down the long hallway. His footsteps were silent on the hardwood floor, and he came to stop in front of what he knew to be the master bedroom. The door was closed.
Damon pushed the door open. At first glance, the room appeared to be empty, but inhaling deeply, he could smell blood.
He walked around the bed and shook his head as he found Marie leaning against it, blood dripping from a wound in her side. Damon resisted the urge to taste her; he hadn't fed that night. Even more importantly, he wouldn't feed from Marie. He respected her too much. Sure, he had never particularly cared for Ben, but Damon had definitely admired Marie.
Damon left Marie's bedroom, closing the door behind him. He growled quietly as he rounded the corner to check Calla's bedroom. At that point, he knew he would find her the same way he had found the rest of her family, murdered.
He was surprised when the scent of her blood hadn't hit him as soon as he opened her door. Her blood had always been the strongest, as she was the youngest of the Burke line.
The room was empty.
Damon sped through the house quickly and checked all the other rooms.
Calla wasn't there.
One eyebrow shot into the air as Damon wondered where she could be. She could have escaped, he supposed. Or they could have taken her. Whoever the hell they were.
He walked out to the back patio. The sounds of the night were loud as he opened up his ears for anything unusual. Sure, there were many heartbeats and breaths occurring in the woods behind the Burke home. Squirrels and chipmunks and birds all called the forest their home.
Damon caught it though. He could just barely distinguish the sound from the rest of the woods, but he sped quickly toward it.
He stopped suddenly behind a large oak tree.
Calla was huddled there, her back pressed up against the old bark, her small arms wrapped around her bare legs. She had on a long t-shirt, but nothing else. Clearly, she had been woken by the intruders.
"Calla," Damon spoke to her, his tone soothing.
Calla's head shot up quickly to look at him, her arms tightening around herself. Her eyes were wide.
Damon squatted down beside her. He looked her over. Aside from a few scratches on her arms and bare feet—most likely due to running through the woods—she looked fine. Shocked, but fine.
"You've got to come with me, Calla," he told her gently, holding out a hand to her.
Calla looked at him and shook her head violently.
Damon lifted her chin up with his hand and tried to catch her eyes, but the young girl jerked her head away from him and shut her eyes tightly.
"Don't do that to me!" she almost shouted at him, her eyes tightly shut.
Damon sighed and ran one of his hands over the girl's dark hair. She looked up at him then, enjoying the comfort he was giving her.
"I'm going to make it better, okay?"
Calla nodded slowly, finally allowing herself to look into his eyes.
"You're tired, Calla. You need to sleep. When you wake up, everything will be better. I promise."
Calla's mouth fell open slightly as she nodded. Her eyes began to close. The last thing she felt before drifting off into unconsciousness was Damon scooping her up in his arms and carrying her through the woods.
So, that was really just a little prologue/background for the story. Next chapters would skip ahead to Mystic Falls with Stephen, Elena, and all our other favorite characters. This would be a Damon/OC and Stephen/Elena story though, just so everyone knows. Let me know if you think it should be continued:)
Review if you like it or don't. Thanks!