Backstory- Damon isn't good, he doesn't feel guilt, happiness, sadness, or pain. The good, or at least partially good, Damon that we know is gone. He's dedicated his life to burdening others, and he manages always to get what he wants. Whether it's a free bottle of scotch, a new car, or a flat screen tv, he gets it. But what happens when he meets a mysterious girl who is new to Mystic Falls? Will he down another shot of scotch and get over it? Or will this girl catch the amount of interest that can't be ignored?
Damon's POV:
I slid onto my regular barstool at the Mystic Grill, absentmindedly asking for something strong.
"Hard day?" the bartender asked.
"More like hard life." I smirked.
"Yea. Life sucks." He agreed, sliding me a glass.
This would be my life. Going to the grill every day. I've become a day drunk, who would have known?
A man sat down on the stool beside me, ordering a margarita.
"Looks like we're day drunks together. What's got you here?" he questioned with a sigh.
"Girlfriend died." I answered, not even thinking. That was always my answer. I was pitiful, she died hundreds of years ago, It was time to get over it and move on. But I couldn't move on from Katherine, I loved her.
We sat in silence for a while, him downing two margaritas in the process.
"G-Girl friendsssss." He took a breath. He was already drunk. Humans have no tolerance of alcohol, do they? "are in-noyin' anywaysh." He slurred
"She died. Stop acting like such a dumbass." I growled, a little annoyed from his response.
"Probsly des'rved eet." He responded drunkenly.
"Shut up. She deserved nothing, idiot. She was perfect." I defended.
"Well, I is gon' hippity hop right outs a this joint." He ended, stumbling out of his seat.
"It's a shame, I was just about to poison the margaritas. Sure you don't want another?" I said sarcastically.
"Noop, I gon' be fine." He slurred, walking out of the grill.
I waited a while, sipping my drink before I finally quit feeling sorry for myself and went to hopefully find some sorority girl to eat. I looked back to make sure I didn't leave anything and a girl, probably around 16 accidently bumped into me.
She had wavy blonde hair that reached a little past her shoulders, and bright green eyes I could barely see as she was looking at the floor. Despite their color, they seemed sad. She was wearing an oversized cardigan over a sweater, jeans, and some vans. "Oh, I'm sorry." She said quietly, not even looking up at me. "It's fine, I'm a woman magnet. It was against your womanly nature not to bump into me." I said cockily. She looked up for a split second, caught off guard, and quickly looked back down, walking away. I followed her with my eyes as she sat down at a table in the back, holding a cup of coffee. I could hear the coffee swishing around in the cup, her hand was shaking madly. Was it from me? Did I do something?
I was curious about what was wrong, but I didn't care enough to investigate further. I left the grill and went home.
I lived in a rather large boarding house made mostly of wood. The furniture inside was pretty dated, but I didn't care enough to change it. I took off my jacket and shirt, threw on some plaid pajama bottoms, and went to sleep.
The next night around nine I decided to go to the grill again, like every other night.
I walked in to see the girl from yesterday sitting near the back again. I didn't know why I was so interested in her, she was just a human. But something was pulling her to me, I just didn't know what. I intended to find out. The thing is, it wasn't a good pull. It made me feel like I was angry with her for no reason, though I felt that about most humans, she was different. The anger was rising in my chest, I just wanted to kill the girl. Why did I want to hurt her so much? She was just some average teenage girl.
That was it, I was done being angry at myself for not hurting the girl. It was time I took action. I sat down at the bar, drinking a water while I waited for her to leave. After a half hour or so, she got up from her table and went outside. It was dark out, nobody could see anything. I could grab her and throw her in my car easy. But what if she screamed? What if she blew my cover? Looks like she's gonna have to take a little…nap…
She walked down the street as I soundlessly followed behind her. "Was I really doing this? Capturing some girl just because I was curious about her?" I asked myself. Another part of me replied "She did something. I don't know what, but she did something bad and she is going to pay, whether she knows what she did or not." I was honestly having a fight with myself. Too late now, it was too good of a chance. When we neared an alley, I took the opportunity to make my first move.
Holly's POV:
It felt like somebody was following me. I was walking home from the grill, bracing myself for the terrors that waited at home. I just knew my father was going to have a bad night. I had stayed out too long, he will have gotten drunk. I pulled the sleeve of my cardigan up, revealing scars and bruises, but quickly pulled it back down, pushing back the thought of dad hurting me. No, it's not his fault. It's my fault, I deserve anything and everything he does to me. It was all my fault.
I was almost home when suddenly I heard a whoosh sound. As soon as I turned my head to investigate, I felt strong arms throw me up against the wall of an alley. I opened my mouth to scream just as a hand roughly covered my mouth, leaving me staring into the piercing blue eyes of my attacker, eyes watering, pleading him to let me go.
"Lets take a little nap, don't worry, you wont feel a thing." He tormented. With that my head was jerked to the side, slamming into the brick wall. Pain flooded my body. I was conscious only a few seconds, in which I saw him smiling. I fell to the ground, dizzy, and eventually gave in and passed out.
I woke in a strange room, if you can even call it that. It was made all of concrete, it looked like a jail cell. Maybe it was? Did I get arrested? I thought very hard, adding to my already huge headache. What had happened that got me here? Then, all the memories flooded back. A man kidnapped me! I shivered, scared of what might happen. What did he want? We didn't have very much money, he couldn't want ransom, could he? I hoped not, my father couldn't pay for it, I knew that for a fact. Unless he wanted my saved $20, I had nothing to offer my attacker.
It only took a few moments for the all to familiar man to come in. He looked around 20 with messy black hair, intimidating blue eyes, and he looked like he didn't want to be messed with.
I unintentionally backed away a little, but I knew it wouldn't help.
"Hello there." He said plainly.
I stayed quiet, worried I would anger him.
"I SAID HELLO." He growled.
"H-Hi." I whimpered, holding back tears.
"Good. By the way, sorry about the whole knocking you out with the wall." He smirked.
"W-What do you what? We don't have money!" I rushed out, instantly regretting it as his eyes turned… black? Was that even possible?
He walked towards me and kicked me to the other side of the room. I hugged my sides in pain. "Don't yell at me, girl. I don't want money." He spat. You deserve it. You deserve everything that happens to you, I reminded myself.
I wanted to respond, but I was scared he would hurt me again.
He looked me up and down, I hoped he wouldn't comment on the bruises.
"Where did you get all of those bruises?" he asked, waiting intently for an answer.
"Uh.. you kicked me, that's it." I answered. You deserve it. I told myself again
"DON'T LIE TO ME. Tell me where you got the bruises right now!" he shouted, scaring me.
"I-I…." I stopped, thinking. "I can't… I can't tell." I said, tears now streaming freely down my face.
He didn't waste time pitying me. He came closer and repeated what he did earlier, kicking me across the room yet again. This was too much like home. Stop feeling bad for yourself, you are just getting what you deserve. The little voice inside my head whispered viciously.
"TELL ME RIGHT NOW!" he demanded, prying my hands from my face.
I hesitated. I knew he wasn't going to back down, I'll just lie. Yea, that will work.
"I fell. There was something on the stairs so I fell."
"I don't believe you. This is your last chance. Tell me the truth before I make you tell me." He threatened.
"That's the truth, I left some papers on the stairs and tripped!" I answered. I couldn't tell him it was my dad! My dad didn't deserve any of this and I'm sure as hell not going to tell somebody!
"That's it. Since you don't want to do this willingly, I'll just have to force you." He stated with a malicious grin.
"No, It's-It's true!" I begged, trying to make him believe it.
He neared my face and looked straight into my eyes, I closed mine, scared. " .Eyes." He demanded.
I reluctantly did so.
"Where did all of these bruises come from?" he asked. He really expected me to just answer because he asked it calmly? Heck no!
"My dad." I heard myself answer in monotone. What? No! Why did I just say that? I wasn't suppose to say that!
His face suddenly turned soft for a moment, before turning vicious again.
"What do you mean?" he asked, staring into my eyes like before.
"He's been an alcoholic since my sister and brother died, my mother left us a year after I was born. Sometimes he gets a little out of hand." I felt myself pour out. I need to stop saying things!
I tried to save myself. "Only sometimes. Like maybe once a year or something, not much." I lied.
"How many times does he get out of hand?" he asked again. "Almost every night." I answered in monotone. What was making me say these things?
He got up and left the room without saying a word.
Nice job, selfish bitch. You just sold out your dad, all he wanted was a loving daughter and you sold him out. Great daughter you are, said a voice inside my head.
I scolded myself and finally decided to look at my condition. Bruises everywhere and my arm was bleeding. I reached over to my arm and my rib protested, sending a sharp pain through my body. Add to the list: possible broken rib. I looked down at my hair. My bleach blonde hair was now covered in splotches of blood and dirt. I was a mess.
Damon's POV:
She was abused? Damnit… I was angry at someone who clearly didn't deserve it. What was my problem?
My thoughts were interrupted as the front door swung open. I went to check it out only to find it was my little brother Stefan.
"Hey little bro" I greeted. The last time I saw him was a year ago, what did he want?
"Hello Damon. I've been thinking-" He started.
"Ooh, thinking. That's a first." I chided.
"Shut up. I'm living here now." He stated. I began to refuse him when he put up his finger. "Nope. I'm not sure if you know this or not, but I own this house. I happen to love this town and I'm gonna hang around for a while." He cooed.
Live here? I haven't seen the guy in a year and he wants to live here? "No… You've got it wrong I own this house." I coaxed.
"Actually, you would know that's a lie if you actually claimed this house legally after I left. Unfortunately, you chose to compel the house marketers, and it's still in my name." he smiled.
"Well uh, now's not a good time how about you go and, I don't know, bother someone else?" I asked, pushing him out of the door. Now was really not the best time for him to pop in here while I have a teenager in the basement. "What's the rush?" he asked, smiling.
"Nothing. Now go before I lose even more IQ points." I said sarcastically, hoping he'd leave.
"Your joking isn't going to change the subject. Now-" he stopped. Crap. He smelled her.
"Don't tell me you killed somebody." He scolded, walking down the stairs.
"No, I didn't it's just blood bags!" I convinced.
He ignored me and opened the door to the room I was keeping the girl in. "Girl". I didn't even think to ask her name.
She quickly tensed up when the door opened and then looked at him, confused on who he was I assume.
"Oh my god, DAMON?" he shouted, pushing me against the wall.
"She was mysterious, I had to take her. Something about her told me I needed to kill her." I growled. She winced at the word "kill".
This caught Stefan's attention, making him forget about me and run over to her. He knelt down beside her as she tried to scoot away. "Don't be scared, my brother-my brother is an idiot. It'll be fine." He promised.
She still looked at him wearily. "Here, let's get out of this room." Stefan said, holding out his hand. She got up reluctantly, wincing in pain in the process, and took his hand. He led her up the stairs. Looks like I'm not going to figure out what's off about her.
I was angry and didn't want to face my brother, so I left and went to the grill.
Holly's POV:
I fidgeted with the seam of my shirt as the guy apparently called "Stefan" got me something to drink. He had light brown hair and looked around 17.
"Here." He said awkwardly, giving me a glass of water.
"Thanks." I said quietly.
"I'm really sorry. Did he hurt you?" he asked.
I absentmindedly touched my rib, but quickly pretended I was only pulling the end of my shirt."Uh.. no it's..it's fine." I responded, not wanting to cause any more trouble.
He looked at me doubtfully. "You have bruises all over you and have cuts everywhere. Plus you are flinching when you move." He stated.
"No-he didn't hurt me." I protested weakly.
"You can trust me. Just tell me what happened. I'm not going to make you, but I'd really like to know." He pushed.
"He-" I started. No. You aren't selling someone out, even if this one deserves it. You are both equally to blame.
I was right. "He didn't do anything."
Stefan sighed. "At least tell me your name?"
"Holly." I replied.
"Well, good to meet you Holly. I'll be right back, I'm just going upstairs for a few moments."
"Ok."
This was my chance. I could run away! I went to the door and slowly turned the knob, once I was out and closed the door, I ran. I didn't care how I looked to people I passed, I needed to get home.
I finally reached my home, a beaten down mobile home with a very drunk and pissed man outside. Dad.
I slowly walked up to the door. "Hi daddy." I whispered.
"WHERE THA HEEL YOU BEEN?" he yelled, clearly drunk.
"I'm sorry, I-I forgot the time." Yea, I forgot the time for a whole day. I was a bad liar.
"Well I makin' damn sure you aint gon' do it 'gain!" he shouted, pushing me inside the house.
"Please dad." I pleaded as he grabbed a belt from his room.
He ignored me and slapped the belt across my back. I squeeled and fell down. He repeatedly slapped it across my back as I lost more and more blood. "St-Stop.." I pushed out.
"No." he responded. Breaking a glass bottle of what I guessed was vodka. He pulled a shard of glass and repeatedly stabbed me.
I wasn't going to make it out this time, it wasn't just a bad night, it was the last night. I was slowly losing consciousness, coming in and out of the world. I heard a bang on the door and a very blurry man run in. Scratch that, fly in. He was running way faster than a normal person could. Great, I was hallucinating. I didn't know who he was, but judging by his tone of voice, he was pissed. That's when I lost consciousness.