I probably picked one of the worst times to upload this story. This has been one of the most hectic weeks since the semester is almost over, so I'm sorry for the wait. I only had a few minor touch ups to make on this chapter, but I didn't have the time!
That being said, I can't say how amazed I am that I got 36 followers and 10 favorites in just a week! This is my first TVD story that isn't a crossover, and I'm really nervous about it. You guys are seriously amazing, and I really hope this chapter doesn't disappoint. I started writing this story way back when Elena found out she was sired to Damon, so everything is canon up until then.
I really hope you all like this chapter. Leave me a review telling me what you think?
Until next time,
Skye
"Chapter 1"
Wednesday, June 22, 2410
Happy birthday to me.
Like all of my birthdays after I died, I feel like something bad is going to happen. I don't know what it is…but I can feel something dark coming. I mentioned my apprehension to Damon earlier, but he made a joke out of it. I couldn't stay mad at him for long. His jokes are part of what made me fall in love with him. That, and I'm still sired to him.
He told me that I always say something bad's going to happen on my birthday, but I know I'm right about it this time. Something inside me feels off. Something is happening right now, or it's about to happen, and it's gonna be big. I wish it would hurry up and happen. A small part of me feels terrible that I hope whatever it is kills me.
I've lived enough lifetimes. I've experienced a life people only dream about. As much as I love Damon and I love being with him and his family, I don't want to live anymore. That's ironic, I guess, since I'm technically not alive.
Today is my 418th birthday. What normal person can say that? What normal person can say that her husband (who only married her to make her feel better about living a life where marriage is pretty much pointless) is 575 years old? That just doesn't happen in real life.
It still feels like yesterday that I was enjoying lunch with my friends. It feels like yesterday that I could bask in the warmth of a Virginia summer without worrying about burning in the sun if I misplace my daylight ring.
I stood with the bridesmaids at my brother's wedding. I was the godmother to his two girls. I watched his hair turned gray. I buried him almost 331 years ago. All without aging a single day.
I held my best friend's hand as the cancer took him at 68.
I always assumed I would die before Jer, especially after meeting Damon and this world of nightmares he dragged me into. I shouldn't be alive right now. I shouldn't be able to stand in the same room as my great-times-nine grandnephew (even though my presence might set him straight since he's kind of a bad boy).
Sometimes I wonder what would have happened to me if I never met Damon or Stefan. Then I remember I would have drowned along with my parents. I never would have had the displeasure of meeting (and running from) Klaus Mikaelson. I could have had a dreadfully short life, or a mundane extended one. Why does everything have to be so extreme?
I think it's crazy how one little thing can change the course of time. If Stefan had been anywhere else than Wickery Bridge, if he hadn't pulled me from my dad's car, I would have died. I wouldn't have learned I was so much more than an average teenage girl. I wouldn't even know that vampires were real outside of scary stories and cheesy movies.
If Klaus never found Katherine, would she have turned Damon or Stefan? Would Damon have turned my birth mother? Would she have come back for me and raised me like she should have?
I wonder if the things that have happened were meant to be. If we changed the little things, would the big things still happen? Would my parents have died? Would Klaus have come after me? Would I have fallen in love with Damon?
I have…so many questions. I know I'll never find answers, and I'm not sure I want them. I can't help but think of them, though. I've had 400 years' worth of practice. I can't—
Elena gently places her pen down on her desk as her ears perk. In a flash, she stands in the doorway, listening intently. Floorboards creak downstairs. She breathes in slowly to catch the intruder's scent. The smell of strawberries and cheap champagne burn her nose.
She speeds down the extravagant stairs and tackles the blonde out of Damon's favorite armchair. "What the hell are you doing here?" she seethes. "You're not welcome here."
Caroline awkwardly flips her, the dress she hadn't bothered to change out of restricting her movement. She glares down at her old best friend. "Did it ever occur to you that this isn't a casual visit?" she hisses.
Elena pushes her off and stands. "Say what you have to and leave," she demands as she crosses her arms. "I told you I never wanted to see your face again."
"Save the melodrama," the blonde spits. "Right now, we have a problem."
"Are you and Stefan getting bored in the bedroom?" the brunette quips with a dry smirk. "I'm sure Damon and I can give you a few tips before he rips your head off."
Caroline sneers. "It's Klaus," she says. "He's gone."
"Gone?" Elena repeats, her dry smirk staining her square face. "That doesn't sound like a problem to me. Pretty sure that's what everybody's wanted for the last 400 years. We all know that's what you wanted. Or did that change, too?"
"This isn't funny, Elena," Caroline presses. She opens her mouth to say something else when the ground begins to shake. She quickly fumbles for the fireplace to keep herself steady. The rumble of the ground intensifies, causing a haunting commotion.
"What's happening?" Elena shouts as she clings to Damon's armchair.
Before anything else can be said, a blinding white light envelops the girls.
Earlier.
His blood boils with a deep betrayal he has only felt once before in his protracted life. In the centuries he'd remained in Mystic Falls, he had come to expect the foolhardy plots for his demise. But until now, Caroline had only been waiting in the sidelines; she had never been the one to act, even if she devised the plans. In the time she had consorted with the younger Salvatore, she had never offered herself to him. He always assumed that she was above using his unrequited infatuations against him.
Fury and the sting of utter heartbreak surged through him, tugging at every fiber of his being, pulling him into the depths of despair. Sure, he's no saint, but he cannot fathom how he could ever deserve the cruel torture she'd put him through. He had wanted many things in his life—an army of hybrids, unmatchable power, immortality—but he had never wanted anything the way he wanted Caroline. With the Petrova doppelgänger unable to produce more blood for him to sire hybrids, he had no other ties to the godforsaken cesspool of supernatural mayhem. He stayed all these centuries for her. He stayed out of hope for making her his, hope for spending the rest of their eternity together. He yearned for her, and he knows he always will.
But he can't pine after a self-righteous hypocrite that could never love him. As long as Stefan clouds her judgement, there's no way they can be together. He is nothing but poison; had it not been for him, Caroline would never dream of plotting to kill the Original. She values immortality as much as he does, and she knows that killing him would end every vampire in his line. There would be no more Damon, no more Elena, no more Stefan, no more Caroline.
Stefan Salvatore is a parasite, a devil in disguise.
His own warped sense of heroism turned Caroline against Klaus. He would take away the lives of his brother, his ex-girlfriend, and his current betrothed all for the sake of 'saving' the world. He would make unnecessary sacrifices to mask his own selfishness. If he wants to end his own life, then so be it. But no, he could never take his own life. So he would need to take the Original's.
Klaus could easily kill him. He's entertained the thought on several occasions. But Caroline is so lost in the thinly-veiled madness that is Stefan Salvatore that she would never forgive Klaus. Stefan has ultimately screwed him out of the one thing he's ever truly desired.
In this lifetime.
After leaving Caroline passed out in his rose garden, he realized the only way to win her over would need to be the old fashioned way. He could never do that with his colored past standing in the way, so he'll need to travel back to a time where his name hadn't preceded him.
He needs a witch.
Because he decided to reside in Mystic Falls until he could sweep Caroline off her feet and whisk her away from this hell, vampires were welcomed by its frail citizens. There were a number of trusted vampires in the town, all of whom protected the humans from the likes of Klaus. And because of Stefan personally handing out sketches, nearly ever witch in Mystic Falls has been on high alert for Klaus.
The ideal situation would be charming a young witch and convincing him or her to give him what he wanted. But thanks to Stefan, there needs to be a heavy amount of stealth to steal a witch away.
Klaus walks into The Grill, keeping a close eye out for one of the teen witches. He doesn't worry with concealing his identity; the witches may know his face, but the humans are still blissfully ignorant.
Erica Donovan, the mayor's daughter and great-times-fourteen-granddaughter of Matt Donovan, sits at the bar flirting with Brandon Gilbert, twirling a long lock of dark hair all the while.
At the pool table, Jackson Lockwood and Carter Forbes play a game of doubles with their Bennett twin girlfriends, Bristol and Kylie. Bristol stands closer to Jackson, not smiling and having fun like her sister Kylie. Klaus can see in her wide hazel eyes that she can sense his presence.
He notices her hand grip Jackson's arm a little tighter. She opens her mouth to speak when Natalie Salvatore, followed by Lana Fell, walks up to them. "Bristol," she whispers. "I need to talk to you for a minute."
Bristol nods, her dark curls bouncing slightly, and gives Jackson a quick peck on the cheek before moving to an empty spot at the bar with her friends. "Something's wrong, isn't it?" she questions, her voice on edge. "I can feel something dark coming and it feels close."
Natalie grimaces. "My uncle told me that one of the Originals might be looking for us," she explains. Her eyes fall to her reflection in the counter. "He thinks the Original might come after you and your sister."
"What?" Bristol hisses in shock. "Why us?"
"Because you two are the only witches left in town that don't know him," Lana answers. "All our parents know who the Original is and what he looks like, so he wouldn't go after your father."
"But what does he want with us?"
"We don't know," Natalie replies. "Uncle Stefan said that the Original was severely pissed and might use you two to get back at Carter's aunt."
"Did Stefan give you any descriptions of him?"
"He's tall and devilishly handsome," Lana jokes. Klaus smirks, deciding to kill her last. She pulls a folded paper from the pocket of her shorts and unfolds it to show her friends. "Stefan was short on time and colored pencils," she continues. "But he told us the Original's got dirty-blondish hair and blue eyes you'd never forget."
"Sounds like we're talking about Damon's blonde alter ego," Bristol quips with a small smirk, analyzing the drawing. Klaus grimaces; he's going to enjoy ripping out the young witch's throat once he gets what he wants.
"It's not funny, Bris," Natalie scowls. "He's very dangerous and he'll kill you."
"So why hasn't he tried yet?" she questions.
"Are you just going to stand there all night?" a large breasted redhead with hair lighter than her sister's and a flirty smirk asks, drawing Klaus away from the girls at the bar. He raises an eyebrow and looks down at her. Aria Salvatore looks up at him through her lashes, trying to draw him in.
"Shouldn't you know better?" Klaus retorts coldly. "Children shouldn't talk to strangers."
Aria leans against the wall and circles her finger on the arm of Klaus' jacket. "You're not a stranger if I know who you are," she replies coolly.
"Remove your hand before I rip it off," he snarls, unmoved. "I have no business with you."
He starts to walk away at a normal human speed, but Aria steps in front of him as she keeps a devilishly smirk. "But I have business with you," she announces, crossing her arms and gently touching her own cheek. "You have something I want, and I'm willing to do anything to get it."
"Just what do you want, young Salvatore?" he inquires, suppressing a smirk of his own. "And what would I get in return?"
"I know you want Bristol," she states, "Or Kylie, whichever you get your hands on first, and I can help you get your witch. They'll suspect you coming because my uncle, the one you hate the most, gave them every detail about you that he could share in polite company." She chuckles. "But I'm sure you know that since you've been stalking them for the past five minutes."
"You would have to have been spying on me for the same amount of time," he points out. He scowls. "Tell me what you want. And if I deem it worthy enough, I won't kill you."
She pushes herself closer to him and looks up at him with a playful smile. "I want you to kill me," she breathes. She steps backward with a small shrug. "After you give me your blood, of course."
"Request denied," he spits. "Choose something else before I make you change your mind."
She crosses her arms, her face falling in seriousness. "My uncles have fed me vervain from the day I was born," she announces. "And without me, it's going to be a lot more difficult to get a witch. There are five in this town, Klaus, and that much power could kill you before you even get the chance to blink."
He presses his lip into a tight line, narrowing his eyes at her. Damn these annoying Salvatores. It will be the utmost pleasure destroying the entire bloodline in his new lifetime.
She shrugs again. "Have it your way," she breathes as she turns on her heels. She holds up her hand and flutters her fingers at him as she walks away. "Bye, now…"
He rolls his eyes, angry with himself that he's allowing a human—a wretched Salvatore at that—hold him in the palm of her hands. He clenches his fists. "Alright," he calls out to the cocky girl. "I'll turn you if you help me get my witch."
She turns around with a wide grin. "And Uncle Stefan said you didn't know how to negotiate."
Europe, 1492.
Katerina Petrova snuck away as soon as the sun rose. She could feel Rose's blood coursing through her veins, giving her the strength to do what she feared the most. She had managed to convince Rose to wait to return her to Klaus, to give her another night before she was sacrificed, and Rose begrudgingly complied. When they took and presumably killed her daughter eleven years ago, she had wanted to kill herself. Her exile only worsened the feeling. She'd tried before, but she had been too terrified to go through with it. In the end, the fear of death haunted her and forced her to continue living.
Now she would have no choice but to take her own life. She would be able to go through with it, and she was sure that she wouldn't truly die.
She clenched the rope she carried tightly in her hands. Each individual fiber burned her fingers. Her hands were beginning to shake as she moved through the forest. Squirrels jumped around in the leaves surrounding her, startling her. She could hear her heart beating rapidly in her ears as terror spread through her. She had been on the run for only a few days, and death loomed in her shadow. Every step she made, every breath she took, she feared that he would be right behind her, breathing in her scent. She lived in the fear that he would kidnap her again and sacrifice her for his own selfish needs.
As she tossed the rope over the sturdiest branch she could find, she reminded herself that she was just as selfish as he was.
A hand snapped out to her wrist just as she was about to slip the noose around her neck. "I would not do that if I were you," Klaus breathed into her ear. Katerina began to scream, but his hand shot to her mouth to stifle her and held her tightly to his chest. "You were going to kill yourself and become a vampire." He removed his hand from her mouth.
"I-I w-would d-do anything to k-keep from dying," she stammered out. "I do not want to be your sacrifice…"
"I do not care what you want!" he shouted, shaking her roughly. "All that matters is what I want!"
She began to sob loudly. "Please," she begged, "I do not want to die."
He sneered and ripped the rope from her hand. "You try this again and you'll wish you were dead."
Klaus paced around the small clearing of the forest. The moonstone was beginning to burn a hole in his hand as the anticipation surged through him. Ezekiel, his first warlock, was on his way with the werewolf while Katerina stood in the center of the clearing with a newborn vampire, just as they had been compelled to do.
"It is about time you got here," the vampire spat.
"Do not worry," Ezekiel advised as he stepped into the clearing. As he threw the unconscious werewolf where Katerina and the vampire stood, three rings of fire rose up around them. "Everything will go according to plan."
Klaus handed the moonstone to Ezekiel and the warlock began the ritual. Klaus made his way to the trifecta of circles and stood in front of the werewolf writhing in pain. When the circle of fire around the werewolf disappeared, he sped over to him and ripped his heart out before the pitiful beast could even let out a noise of pain. Katerina gasped, tears filling her eyes.
Klaus returned to Ezekiel in a flash and began to squeeze the werewolf's heart, letting the blood drip onto the moonstone. Once he collected enough blood, he dropped the heart and moved to the newborn vampire. The circle of fire disappeared until the only circle of fire left trapped Katerina inside. The vampire didn't move and Klaus smirked, overjoyed that his plan was going to work this time around.
He pulled a stake from the pocket of his coat and plunged it into the vampire's chest. She screamed loudly and collapsed into his arms. He lifted her over his shoulders and brought her to Ezekiel. Then, he broke her arm off to allow the blood in her body to spill out over the moonstone and mix with the werewolf's blood.
Ezekiel stopped his chant and looked to Klaus. "Are you ready?" he questioned. Klaus simply smirked in response and turned on his heels before walking towards the terrified Petrova doppelgänger.
Once near her, the fire around her disappeared and she began to sob loudly. He grabbed her in his arms and carried her to Ezekiel. Standing by the fire of the moonstone, he bit into her neck and she screamed in peril. As her blood spilled into his mouth, her screams began to die out. Her body fell limp and her heartbeat started to slow. He had almost drained her of all her blood when a mighty force knocked them both down. She rolled out of his grasp and lay on the ground, barely breathing.
As Klaus shot to his feet, Elijah tossed Ezekiel's corpse at his half-brother's feet. "You started without me," he announced, faking a pout.
Klaus narrowed his eyes at Elijah. "What the hell did you do?" he spat.
Elijah smirked weakly. "I killed your warlock," he responded simply.
"Why?"
"You tried to kill my doppelgänger."
"Your doppelgänger?" Klaus seethed. "She is mine."
Elijah chuckled. "Not tonight," he retorted. "You seem to be without a warlock to break your curse. She lives for another month."
"I will kill you," Klaus snarled, "I will rip your throat out."
Elijah smirked proudly. "Come and get me, brother."
With a loud snarl, Klaus darted toward his half-brother, but Elijah stood his ground. Before Klaus could lay a finger on his brother, Elijah ran a wooden stake through his brother's stomach to stun him.
That, and he dare not touch a White Oak stake.
Klaus gasped slightly and Elijah rammed another stake through his stomach. Klaus staggered slightly and began gasping for air. Before he fell to the ground, his brother drove a wooden stake into his heart. He collapsed, bleak unconsciousness overriding him as his skin grew pale and his veins visibly stretched over his exposed skin.
He awoke to an empty clearing an hour later.
He would not see Katerina Petrova again for nearly 400 years.
