Damon wondered aimlessly through the town, his feet and mind completely separate; his feet led him away from town and his mind reminisced of his past - remembered her – his sweet Katherine. All his other human memories had faded, barely a trace left, but Katherine's, hers was different. His memory of her never faulted, never faded, forever engraved in his mind - Her perfect olive skin; her hair, curled to perfection; and those lips. Damon closed his eyes, remembering her touch, remembered the sensations he felt as his lips met hers - the electricity, the intense passion. Damon snapped out of his memory, for that was what they were - memories, soon he would soon be with her again, reunited with his love. He would be with her now if it wasn't for his conniving brother, the cause of his sorrow, it was his fault she was taken away from him, the one time he had put his trust in someone else. Damon had come to realise the only person he could truly trust was himself, if only he knew this sooner. Damon wiped his eyes, though no tears came out; no one understood him like Katherine did.

Damon had found himself on a long stretch of road, a road which seemingly went on for ages. A few lampposts were dotted on the side of the road, giving the illusion of safety. On either side of the road there was dense woodland, decorated with shrubs lined along the road. A good place to dump the bodies, Damon thought. Damon smiled, noting how his subconscious decided he would have more than one victim tonight. Crouching low to the road, he slowly raised his head as he heard a car approaching, from the sound of it one person was in the car, his heart beating at a calm pace. Not for long, Damon thought, as he imagined ripping their throat out, his hands covered in his victims warm blood.

The car was getting closer, with little time to spare Damon laid down on the centre of the road, his head turned to the side, his arms and legs spread out, pretending to be injured; a little trick he had learnt from Katherine. As expected the car came to a halt, and after brief pause a man warily got out of the car, leaving the engine and radio running, assuming he would return to it later. Oh how wrong he was.

The radio played in the background, a happy, cheerful song...a stark contrast to what was around the corner. The man slowly crept up to Damon, his body low, bending down to get a good look at Damon, who was lying in wait, holding his breath as he lay motionless, listening to every sound. He could hear the man's heart racing; his adrenaline pumping as his mind was repeatedly going over his basic first aid knowledge.

"Are you OK?" The victim-to-be asked cautiously, leaning in, still a foot away from Damon. He still wasn't close enough, Damon groaned in false pain, prompting the man to run to Damon's side, casting aside all his instincts – bad move.

"Oh my God", the man cried out, it was too dark to see any injuries.

Trying not to move Damon, in fear of internal injuries, the man tried to check Damon's pulse; slowly raising his two fingers to his neck. Damon opened his eyes; suddenly black from the anticipation of blood, his skin surrounding his eyes darkened as his face contorted and his fangs appeared. Unbeknownst to the man, these were his last moments of life.

Damon flipped him on his back as he pinned him down, pausing to allow the man to understand what was about to happen, he liked it better with fear in their system. The man warily looked up to Damon, into the face of death, contorted and deranged. He let out a shrill scream, pointless since no one was around for miles - he was all alone, powerless against the monster stooped over him. The man's eyes widened as Damon forcefully pushed his head to the side, exposing his neck, his vein visibly pulsing. Overcome by his bloodlust Damon sank his teeth into his victim's jugular, feeding on the man as if he had been deprived of food; ravaging his neck like a rabid animal.

The blood wasn't at all great; Damon guessed he was an AB, not the most mouth-watering of blood types. Nonetheless, he continued, enjoying the sounds of his victim's screams, slowly turning into a gargling sound as his mouth filled with his own blood, choking him, while Damon continued to feed, enjoying listening to the man's heart beating frantically, determined to cling onto his insignificant life. Damon was impressed at his resilience; but slowly and surely, like countless of victims before him, the beats slowly faded into nothingness. And then silence.

Damon fumbled through the man's pockets; his crisp black suit now dirt ridden and creased, a whole chunk of his neck missing oozing out the last of his hot, crimson blood. The man's mouth was still open, as if silently screaming; his skin turning a ghostly white as his body was starting to lose all warmth. Damon pocketed $30 from the man, pleased with his nights work. A sadistic smile etched on his handsome face, dry blood caked across his mouth. Fangs still exposed, Damon tilted his head towards the night sky, closing his eyes as he breathed in deeply, inhaling the lingering smell of blood. These were the moments he loved, the moments just after a kill – the satisfaction.

Damon turned his attention back to the motionless body before him, single-handedly picking it up by its collar, flinging it into the woods as if throwing a javelin, the lifeless body soaring through the trees for what seemed like ages, before finally hitting the ground with a thud. The animals can have their fun now, Damon thought. Who said I did nothing for the environment, he smirked at this thought before moving on to disposing the car.

It really was a shame to get rid of the car, Damon had noticed it was vintage, and surprisingly in good condition . Yet, with little remorse and an inhuman force he kicked the back of the car, a large dent now visible on the body as it hurtled into a tree, crushing it beyond recognition as it fell into a ditch below.

Damon expected to hear about the man's untimely demise in a month, give or take - blaming yet another animal attack. That was, unless the man had a worried family somewhere, which Damon honestly couldn't care less about, unless they wanted to die too and join their father/husband/brother/friend, or whoever that tiny insignificant speck of a man was to those people.

Cracking his knuckles, Damon looked back at the road, there was no hint of the savagery that had just taken place just ten minutes earlier. His work here was done, smiling in satisfaction he turned back in one swift motion and began lazily strolling up the road back towards town; he needed alcohol to wash down the bitter taste of the man's blood, or better yet, wash down the blood with more blood. Damon smiled another heartless smile, the night was still young, he had places to go, people to kill, and no emotions of remorse to hold him back. But first he needed a shower, usually he loved the smell of blood, but this one was tainted, it tasted off.

I'm changing the chapters around a bit, adding Elena instead of Stefan...

-Kara :)