(A/N) Hey hey guys! Thanks for the reviews for the last chapter, but let's try and get more than fifteen for this one, please? Now I know I'm not good enough to be one of those Authors who get like 300+ reviews on a story, but I can try, right? Someone say right, I think I'm going insane. :-P

But seriously, I do need alotta reviews, I need them like Damon needs to hook up with Klaus on the show, and rip Elena to shreds. XD - That's a devilish smile.

So, you know the drill, review with your likes, what I could improve on, etc, and also, I'll be starting each chapter off with a quote, so let me know how I've done on that, and the whole story. Please, I need to know if what I write is good.

Last thing, I want to thank an anonymous guest reviewer, Bromance Forever and Zest-of-love (you were really sweet, thanks so much, I don't normally think I'm that good a writer) for their lengthy reviews. Not that I didn't love reading all the reviews I got, I just prefer longer ones.

And also, thank you to Haru Maru Salvatore, who has been a constant reviewer to all my Klamon fics. You rock!

Oh, and to anyone wondering where my usual one-shot are, I've decided not to post any until this story is done. But don't worry, I'll get back to posting them when this story is over.

Right, this chapter is a bit long (about 10,800 words) so I'm really, really hoping it won't bore you, because every single detail is crucial, and needed to be in there.

So, I'm gonna stop rambling, and you're gonna start reading. Capische? :-P

Warnings: Contains scenes of mild horror (I think so anyway) Elena bashing (if that's not your cup of tea, I won't be offended if you stop reading) and light smut scenes.

~ooOOoo~

If you're gonna be bad, be bad with purpose; otherwise, you're just not worth forgiving. - Damon Salvatore.

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Under the burning amber rays of the morning sun shining through the large window of the Salvatore boarding house and filling the parlour with a dim orange glow, Damon made his way over to his liquor cart, haste eminent in his body. He had been back in Mystic Falls for a few days now, and he still hadn't killed anyone. Klaus was right, he was going soft.

Sighing in annoyance, Damon picked up the crystal decanter which housed his favourite drink - bourbon. He poured himself a large glass, and downed it in record time. Since when had killing people became so taboo with him? His grip tightened on the glass as his subconsciousness seeped through, and Elena's name stuck out in his mind.

She was the root cause in his humanity getting through, but she was also the root cause of everything that happened in Mystic Falls, intentionally, or un-intentionally. Klaus still might have came for her, even if she wasn't aware of Mystic Falls' darkest secrets and supernatural inhabitants, but there wouldn't be nowhere near as many deaths if she hadn't fallen in love with his brother.

Her Aunt Jenna - her last living guardian - was dead because she couldn't bear to lose a best friend, and not to mention John was dead because she didn't want to become a vampire. Caroline had been turned because she was needed for Klaus' ritual, although that wasn't directly Elena's fault, but it led back to her and his brother falling in love. Everything did. But Damon knew their relationship was started on a rocky ground, with Stefan's lies, and his dubious intentions to get Katherine out from the tomb, only to find out she wasn't in there.

Damon's ears pricked up over the sound of him pouring himself another glass of bourbon, and Elena and Stefan's yawns registered with him. He heard shuffling, and the creasing of the bed sheets as they turned around to face each other. Damon quickly swallowed the contents of his glass, trying his hardest not to let rage take over his body, rage for something he should not be thinking about right now.

It was pure torture, always being able to hear Stefan and Elena waking up to each other, making love, or doing whatever else they did when Elena wasn't being kidnapped and waiting for her two knights - Damon was as guilty as charged - to come and save her, or when Stefan wasn't off on a ripper tear. Damon knew the torture would only increase when he started feeding from humans, but if he did what Klaus asked, and became a worse ripper than Stefan, he wouldn't be around to endure it for much longer.

He listened in to Stefan and Elena's conversation, deciding it was best that they saw him before he slipped off to kill some innocent townspeople, and rolled his eyes at the sounds of plump, fleshy cells being pressed together and bed sheets sticking to sweaty bodies. Not for much longer Damon. He reasoned with himself, hearing his tumbler splinter as his fist enclosed around it, tighter than it had been previously.

Finally, the nauseating sounds - not that Damon wasn't guilty of it himself with any woman he was lucky enough to seduce - stopped, and silence filled the air momentarily before Elena's voice shattered it.

"So why did Klaus send you back here?"

"I don't know, but I'm glad he did." He could practically hear the smile in Stefan's voice, and Damon found himself wondering if servitude with Klaus was really as horrible as Stefan was making it out to be, but then again, whenever he wasn't on human blood, he always had to get drunk to be able to have fun without giving himself any frown lines. "Maybe he found someone else to be his little slave for eternity." Damon almost chuckled at his little brother's hopeful voice, he had no idea whatsoever that Damon was the one Klaus was now focusing on.

"Is everything okay with you?" Elena's hopeful voice broke him out of his thoughts, and Damon listened intently again. He almost snorted, she was pinning everything on the fact that a vampire would be okay without drinking human blood. Stefan really had built a delusional wagon for himself to ride on, and Damon couldn't help - but he didn't care - but think that, that was what his relationship with Elena had been built on: Lies and false hope. "The cravings?"

"I should be alright, I'll just need to take larger amounts of animal blood than I normally would to replace the human blood." Stefan answered her. Damon couldn't really have an opinion on it, because he wasn't sure if it would actually work, or if Stefan would become the vampire equivalent to an alcoholic because he was trying to stay off of human blood for Elena.

Why is everything for Elena!? Damon screamed mentally, his fist finally shattering his tumbler into pieces. Flecks of crystal rained to the ground, and what little of his bourbon that had been left, splashed onto the carpet. It seemed to be the eternal question in his mind, and he couldn't help but think of how many other people's either.

Lately, everything in Mystic Falls - that concerned the usual suspects, himself, Stefan, Alaric, Caroline, Bonnie and sometimes Jeremy - either revolved around Elena, or was done to save her. And Damon hated it, hated it more than the fact Elena had brought his humanity back. Not that he would have it for much longer, he didn't want it anymore, it was over-used, over-rated, and not to mention downright annoying as it sometimes got in the way of his plans.

Like during the sacrifice, he had saved Tyler and Caroline because he was concerned about how poor little Elena would feel because she'd lost people she'd known since birth. Her attachment to everyone would be the death of her, or everyone elses. Damon had noticed that almost every time a plan was formulated that involved certain death or collateral damage, Elena opened her big mouth and everything suddenly changed.

It was getting beyond a joke.

"I never gave up on you Stefan." Elena's voice derailed his speeding train of thoughts. Didn't Damon know it, everyone knew it. She had stopped eating, stopped sleeping, and she had chased up every lead possible - the ones that Damon didn't hide from her - to find him. On a brotherly level, Damon had missed Stefan too, but he had faced reality, or as Elena called it, giving up, a hell of a lot quicker than she did.

"I know, and I don't think I can thank you enough." Stefan said to her, and by the sound of it, he kissed her forehead.

"You can try." Elena's voice gained a seductive allure to it and the shuffling sounds began and moans sounded throughout the house. Damon frowned, and somehow found himself thinking of Katherine back in 1864. His mind then strayed to how Elena had always tried so hard not to be her, yet she fell into all the traps, and ended up making history repeat itself again. Damon had grown tired of it, and it had all started because she looked like Katherine.

Damon stepped over the shards that was once his tumbler, and made his way towards the stairs. He would stake all the money he'd ever owned, and his prized Camaro - and he loved that Camaro - on the fact that Stefan was thinking about Katherine while he was in bed with Elena. Damon wouldn't be at all surprised, since she was the sole reason he stalked Elena in the first place, testing her to make sure she was nothing like her. But she was, and Damon had no idea how Stefan could be so blind.

The sounds of muffled moans and laughter could be heard over the rustling of bed sheets, and Damon poked his head around his brother's room, and found him on top of Elena, sheets draped over his body while he was tenderly kissing her. Damon frowned. Stefan was too soft for his own good, but that was probably why Elena liked him, he was a pushover, easy to persuade and extremely easy to guilt into something.

The nauseating display's of affection continued without any knowledge that Damon was stood in the door way. He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. "Don't swallow each other!" He called to them.

They stopped immediately, and Stefan kept his eyes on Elena - Damon was guessing her cleavage - while Elena looked like a deer caught in headlights. An angry deer caught in headlights. "Damon!" She scolded, not even bothering to cover herself up. It was things like that, that made Damon angry, she was with his brother, and was shoving it in his face and down his throat that she was Stefan's and not his.

It's always gonna be Stefan. His mind reminded him bitterly. Damon shook his head, at least he would be with Klaus soon. Even though Damon wasn't that sure about the Brit's feelings towards him, he knew there was something, otherwise Klaus wouldn't have taken Damon up on his offer to replace Stefan as his Ripper-Partner-In-Crime.

"What?" Damon leant casually against the door frame, and folded his arms. Stefan finally looked up at him, and Damon had no idea why he was so embarrassed, it wasn't like they hadn't seen each other naked before when they were children. "I still drink human stuff, and I don't need to hear you guys from downstairs." He continued, well aware he sounded like the grouchy old man from down the road who would confiscate children's footballs if they landed in his yard.

"Ooh Stefan that feels so good. Ooh Stefan I'm ticklish there..." Damon made a comical impression of Elena, and the countless things she'd heard her scream when she was in bed with Stefan. Oddly, it had never been just his name. "I swear it's just same old, same old with you guys. Break the rhythm, live a little, shatter the bed. Something adventurous!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Damon saw something flying for his head. He caught it in mid-air, single-handed, and with his eyes still on Stefan.

"You're a worse shot than I thought, brother." He commented. He opened a fist to see what had been thrown at him, and chuckled. "And really, silk boxers? Are you sure you got the gender preference thing right?" Damon teased him, knowing full well he had a few pairs himself, not that he ever worn them.

"Just get out of here." Stefan tried to be stern, but was chuckling. It was moments like that, that Damon and Stefan could actually get along. They had been few and far between since Elena came along. The reasons were a little more deep-seated, but Elena was the main component as of late, and she was the one thing they couldn't resolve.

"Alright Mr. Silk Boxers." Damon chuckled back, choosing to ignore Elena's on-coming frown on both - although he knew she would only lecture him - brothers juvenile teasing. "I was going out for a bit, and thought I'd tell you if you thought something terrible happened to your dearest brother."

"Alright, see you later." Stefan smiled at him.

"Later." Damon made his way down the hall, but poked his head back around the door. "Oh and Stefan, remember what's in the top drawer."

He snickered as Stefan's face went red, and Elena's eyes began brimming with curiosity. It was safe for Damon to say, that what was in Stefan's top drawer could benefit them both. He carried on down the hallway, through the parlour and out the front door. He stood in the driveway where his blue Camaro was parked.

He opened the driver's door, and slid inside, pulling the door shut behind him. Damon pulled the seatbelt across his body, and buckled it in. He rested for a moment, tapping his hands on the steering wheel. Possible kill-sites were revolving around his head right now, and he felt himself growing more and more excited. Today was the day he would break free of Elena's leash, today was the day he would no longer allow his humanity to judge his decisions...

... Today was the day, the perfect day, to kill.

Damon turned the key in the ignition, and the engine roared proudly to life. He pressed his foot down on the acceleration pedal, and sped off towards the Grill. Usually, it was largely populated with unsuspecting teens and barmen barely scraping minimum wage, so Damon decided there and then that he would slaughter everyone inside. He smirked. This brought a whole different meaning to the phrase: The more the merrier.

He rolled into the car park, and twisted his key out of the ignition, muting the monotonous purr the engine had been making. Damon slowly inhaled the air, and he was almost driven into a frenzy - there was so many different types of blood inside that one building, that he didn't know where to begin. He was getting too excited, but he knew he couldn't get too carried away, and run the risk of leaving behind any signature trademarks that Stefan would recognise him by.

Damon walked into the grill, almost laughing at the unsuspecting number - and quite a large one - of the Mystic Falls' population. Sitting down at his usual bar stool to avoid looking suspicious, he scanned the people around him. There was a lovely selection for him, and they were his for the taking, just like they always had been. Damon was almost salivating at the sight of all the beautiful girls with their low-cut tops, leaving their necks vulnerable and exposed to him...

It had been far too long.

"Can I get you anything, Sir?" A bartender's voice broke Damon out of his daze, and he turned around towards him. For a bartender, his blood smelled pretty good. Good enough to be the starting point in the deadly game Damon was about to initiate.

"Yes." He smiled, turning completely in his seat. As the bartender reached beside him to pick up an empty glass, Damon snapped his hand around the boy's wrist, locking eyes with him. "You can stand still, and don't scream." He paused momentarily to hiss and reveal his fangs, but the bartender yelled and tried to back away from him. Then the reason flickered into Damon's brain.

"Oh that's right, you're staff so you're on vervain, silly me." He chuckled, tightening his grip on the bartender's wrist, feeling the bones bend to the point of breaking being the only other possible thing to happen unless he let go. "Not that it has an effect on me, anyway." With little to no effort, Damon tossed the bartender into the air, over the counter-top, where he landed on the floor with a thud. Several people turned to look at what was going on.

Damon ignored them all, knowing he was fast enough to capture anyone who tried to run away from him, and sunk his fangs into the bulging artery in the bartender's throat. His ear-splitting yells of pain fell on deaf ears, and Damon continued to drink, holding him down with firm hands as he squirmed underneath him.

Oh how he had missed this... The feeling of euphoria that came with the liquid fear he had instilled in his victims. The bartender gave another gasp of pain, and Damon bit down even harder, his fangs teeth and the power of his bite severing his main artery and crushing his windpipe to pieces.

He was no more.

Damon darted his tongue out to scrape up the last of the rich, life-giving essence, rearing his head up from the dead bartender's neck, and a sadistic grin tugged at his bloody lips, exposing red-smeared daggers. Damon could taste the fear he had, had before he killed him, he could taste the rapture of the kill, the adrenaline which kicked in during the feed. But it wasn't a regular feed anymore, a means to keep himself alive and change Klaus' mind in his choices of Salvatore servitude.

It was the re-awakening of the long-lost killer of Mystic Falls. And he was back with a vengeance.

"So, who's next?"

~ooOOoo~

Damon moaned in contentment, sucking the last customer - a beautiful Asian women with olive skin - dry. He pulled her wrist from his mouth, casually wiping his bloody mouth with the dead woman's appendage. The last hour had been complete and utter heaven. Pure bliss. The feeling of the slick blood streaming down his throat was mesmerizing, and much better than any of his feeds in all of his years alive as a vampire.

He stood up, staggering as if he was on a drug-high, and surveyed the Grill around him. Corpses were strewn about the floor, some were hanging upside-down in the booths, and the rest were over the other side of the bar. The intoxicating smell of blood lingered in the air, on his tongue. It was the very essence of his soul now, fresh and warm like it always should have been.

A car pulled up outside the Grill, and Damon made himself scarce with the help of his vampire speed. He would have killed him, but how else would Klaus come to know of his first epidemic if nobody reported it to the Sheriff? News from the town travelled fast, exceptionally fast. Damon hoped it would be enough to convince Klaus he was worse, but a darker part of him knew it wouldn't be enough, and he was glad. He liked killing, much more than he had remembered.

He reached the car park, and climbed into his Camaro, observing from the sidelines as the man got out of his car, and strolled towards the Grill. Damon could tell by the way he'd stopped, he knew he wasn't going to get that bacon and egg sandwich today. He yelled in horror, and Damon snickered quietly. The man pulled out his phone, and frantically dialled for the Sheriff. Damon started the ignition, and roared out of the car park.

He got home in record time, and silently slipped into the house, shutting the front door carefully, and avoiding the creaky floorboard as he made it into the parlour. Just as he heard Stefan's bedroom door open, Damon began pouring himself a drink to look natural, not like he had just gotten back from a murder-spree.

"Damon, how could you do this?" Stefan stormed into the parlour with Elena thankfully both were dressed, in tow. Damon ignored her accusing death-glare - which could have easily been put to shame by anyone - and leaned against the liquor cart. He knew exactly what they were there for, they had obviously found out about his first murder-spree. Damon couldn't bring himself to care, if he played the Devil's Advocate and wove a web of lies faster than a spider, he would throw them completely off his trail.

"Do what dear brother?" He played dumb, folding his arms with a light smirk on his lips. "If it's rob a blood bank, it's very easy, I go in, compel the guard and help myself, and the-"

"We mean this, Damon!" Elena yelled, cutting him off furiously. She strode over to the cabinet, and grabbed the TV remote from the side, angrily switching the "on" button. The news flickered on, and the reporter who was Andie's substitute was speaking.

"Several bodies were found at the Mystic Grill today, all with large bite marks in their necks, and some on the wrists, and even thighs. Several are unrecognisable due to the seriousness of their injuries and the amount of blood on them. Until the culprit is caught, I implore you all to stay inside, as nobody is safe anymore. Witnesses report seeing a man in his twenties nearby, police have questioned him, and can safely conclude he was not involved with any of the murders." She was cut short as Elena pressed the "off" button turning around and giving him a judgemental look. Boy, news travels fast. Damon thought.

"Oh sure, every time someone gets ripped up, everybody blames Damon." Damon would have loved to tell her where she could shove it, but since he was still playing Devil's Advocate, it would have to wait until later. "Well, I didn't do it. I swear." He held his palms up in a defensive manner.

"Well Stefan wouldn't..." Elena's voice trailed off with uncertainty and doubt as she looked at Stefan. Damon discreetly gave him a once over, and took in his expression: morose, with a side of frown lines. He couldn't pin it on Stefan at all, even if he wanted to. His frown lines were always a huge give away when it came to human blood.

"I didn't Elena, I promise." Stefan told her, and Damon almost rolled his eyes. It was truly annoying about how Stefan couldn't handle Elena being mad at him. Damon could handle it, and he'd used to be hindered by it, but now he didn't care at all. He was done being her watered down, piece on the side. Somebody she could manipulate and take for granted while she was repeatedly choosing his brother over her.

"I believe you-"

"Yet you had no problem accusing me." Damon cut Elena off. "I'm hurt, really hurt." He masked his anger with humor, and Elena's eyes narrowed into slits. Damon was infuriated about how two-faced she was, she would act one way with Stefan, and another with himself. The summer when Stefan was gone, for example, had Elena frantically searching for him, and yet whenever Damon killed someone, she couldn't handle it and kept trying to force his humanity back into him.

Well he didn't need it, and he didn't want it.

"Will you take this seriously!" Elena screeched at him, the piercing yell echoing around the parlour. "Matt and Jeremy work at the Grill, it could have been them!" She continued. Damon wouldn't cross that line, he didn't know why. It wasn't for Elena, and it wasn't for himself. But it wasn't like he'd miss Matt, and Jeremy's ring would bring him back to rat him out.

"But it wasn't." Damon countered.

"But it might have been!" She yelled again, choosing to dwell on the negative side of things, as usual.

"Elena, has anyone ever told you to calm the hell down!" Damon yelled back. Her eyes took on a look of shock and indignation, and her entire posture reeked with defense. She hadn't been expecting Damon to yell at her like that, that much was certain. "All we need to do, is wait it out and see if the vampire has a revenge motive against any of us, or if it's just a vampire looking for his own personal Gas'n'Sip." He reasoned, although he knew it would be none of the above, and he would have to be extremely careful. Damon also knew, that he couldn't tell anyone the reason - although it was a perfectly legitimate one - because he was surrounded by a bunch of judgemental idiots who's lived constantly revolved around Elena.

"And let innocent people die in the process, Damon." Elena's patronizing voice - Damon suddenly wondered what Stefan would do if he slapped her - brought him back down to Earth with a thud. "People's mothers, fathers, children!" She said.

"Elena everyone, is a member of someone's family." Damon wasn't at all surprised to hear his exasperated voice. Elena knew that people died, and in some extremely dangerous situations, she wanted everyone saved. Damon was done doing that for her too, he'd leave that to his doting, besotted little brother. "We'll just have to wait it out."

"But what about Matt or Jeremy?" Elena asked worriedly.

"Tell them to stay the hell away from the Grill." Damon said, well aware he sounded cold and distant. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Stefan edging his way out of the danger zone. Damon couldn't blame him, the tension building between him and Elena was getting so thick, that if Damon was human he'd be suffocating.

"And where are you going Steffy?" He smirked, turning to his younger brother. "Off to kill some humans?" Damon knew it wouldn't be wise trying to set his own brother up, but he couldn't resist it. For far too long he had been lax in his promise of an "eternity of misery" that he had made over a hundred and forty-five years ago.

"Animals." Stefan corrected him with a glance at Elena, who nodded approvingly. Damon rolled his eyes, since when did a vampire have to take orders from a human girl? And one who was so naïve to her own actions and their consequences at that. "I promise."

"Be safe, don't let the big bad chipmunks catch you!" Damon called, waving him merrily out the door. As soon as it slammed shut, he was left alone with Elena. He felt the dynamic shift between them, only Damon couldn't put his finger on what it was. Maybe it was the human blood intensifying his anger to the point where he felt he would rip Elena's head off if she made one wrong move.

"Damon?" As usual, she reverted to the soft approach with him. Well it wasn't going to work, not this time. He was done being played. He wasn't something to pick up and drop when it suited someone, he was a living - as living as a vampire could get - person with feelings, and all too often were they used for selfish reasons or to get what somebody wanted. Namely Elena Gilbert.

"Hmm?" Damon looked at her, pretending nothing was wrong. To her and everyone else, it would look like nothing was wrong, and even more so as people never got close enough - albeit he never let them - and always skimmed the surface of the icy lake that was Damon Salvatore.

"I didn't want to say this in front of him, but I really do think it's Stefan." Elena was now so close to him, people could mistake them for lovers, which had been the case a few times, most notably, his jealous brother. "I mean, there's no way he could get off human blood that fast, especially-"

"If it was Stefan, the bodies would be ripped apart, and he'd be extremely chipper, all his frown lines would be gone for a few hours, and then he'd go back to wallowing in self-loathing, hating his true nature and trying to quit cold turkey but falling more miserably than you'll be if you try and track down this vampire." Damon cut her off, he couldn't explain it, but he just wasn't in the mood to stomach one of her morality police tirades.

"I still think we should lock him up." Elena told him softly. Damon ignored her and went to his liquor cart and poured himself a drink. With Elena around, he didn't think the entire alcohol in Mystic Falls would keep him from snapping at her. She always made a stupid remark about something she thought she was an expert at, but really she had no clue. The number one prime example - another vampire's blood lust.

"Elena, it isn't Stefan." Damon told her forcefully, hoping she would get the message. "How could it have been? He was with you the whole time, probably half-heartedly rocking your world up there." He had to make her see sense, before she went blindly accusing Stefan and sparked a witch-hunt. They had come close with uncovering the fact that it was Damon, but luckily Elena had, had the Stefan-theory bubbling away for a while.

"But who else could it be?" Elena asked, suddenly getting an extremely worried look on her face. "Unless it was Klaus, then we-"

"Klaus is still in Chicago, Elena. I had the cracked neck to prove it." Damon cut her off once more, sipping his bourbon. He could see Elena was getting irritated with him doing that, but he didn't want to listen to her lectures about the blood lust that she had yet to experience. But Damon wouldn't hesitate to make it soon if she touched a nerve. "But let me just tell you something, it's a vampire's nature to feed. We don't fight it because we need to survive."

Elena suddenly looked desperate for a moment, as she tried to find something to counter his very valid, and correct, point. "But animal blood-"

"Does nothing productive." Damon told her, fighting the urge to make his tone sound exasperated. She always had an answer for everything. "Stefan was much weaker than me when I first came here, and he will be until he stops feeding on the woodland's population."

"He can't control himself though, Damon. I've seen him in his darkest periods." It was things like this, that were an insult to Stefan. Elena hadn't seem him in his darkest periods, but Damon had. Although admittedly, he had been the one to send him over the proverbial edge and shove him rudely off the wagon of control, but Stefan did need to learn control.

"You've seen nothing, Elena." He told her with venom under-laying his voice. "You haven't seen how he rips bodies apart, but I have. You haven't seen what he's like when he's pushed over the edge. But we have nothing to worry about, because the bodies weren't ripped apart."

There was an uneasy silence in the room, and Damon awkwardly sipped on his bourbon, before Elena was the one to break it. "Did he always do that? Rip people apart?" Damon rolled his eyes, she constantly contradicted herself. Back when they were tracking Stefan, she kept insisting she could handle seeing Stefan in Ripper mode, but when they got to his old apartment and Damon showed her Stefan's wall of victims, she couldn't believe her eyes.

"Mm-hm." Damon nodded. "It's not him Elena, I can promise you that." He opened his mouth to say more, but his phone rang loudly throughout the parlour. "Hold on, one sec."

He pressed the green button and held the receiver to his ear, not bothering to check the caller I.D since the list of people who would call him, or actually want to talk to him on the phone, was very short. "Hello?

"Damon, it's Liz." The Sheriff's voice floated into his ear, and there was a distinctive air of worry in her voice. "Carol called an emergency Council meeting for the recent "animal attacks"." She told him.

"Okay, I'll be right over." Damon hung up the phone with a smile. He finally had an excuse to leave, and he wouldn't be suspected as the killer - although he really was - again. And if Elena or Stefan didn't believe his alibi, they could take it up with Liz. "Gotta go, Council meeting." He said to Elena, putting his half-finished bourbon glass on the side. He began walking towards the door, when Elena put her hands on his chest, halting him.

"You can't go, we need to figure out who the vampire is so we can kill him." She told him. Damon had, had enough of all her destroy-the-darkness-reign-in-the-light behaviour. It was getting suffocating and not to mention more irritating than the Twilight Saga corrupting the minds of teens everywhere.

"How naïve can you get, Elena!" The yell flew from his lips before he could stop it or have time to process it. Elena's eyes widened in shock and she reeled backwards, yanking her hands from Damon's chest like he was on fire. Awww, what's the matter? Upset I'm speaking the truth? His mind taunted her. "Vampires kill to survive, just get over it and stop trying to see the light at the end of the tunnel, because there might not be any one day."

"Damon..."

"No, you should get it into your head. Not all vampires hate what they are, and will fight it like my brother." Damon said sharply, feeling like a blade slicing into someone's skin as it made a precise cut. And that's what Damon felt his point about vampires was like - precise. "Certainly not me, and certainly not the one who's behind the attack." He told Elena.

"But it is possible, you just have to want it bad enough!" She yelled back, determined to pull everyone from the darkness inside themselves. That completely and utterly snapped something inside of Damon, more than any of her past mannerisms - the subtle manipulation, taking his love for granted and using it for her own gain, forcing him to be the "better man" - had ever done in all the time that he'd known her.

Nobody, especially a human girl who had little to no knowledge of the supernatural species, would get away with telling Damon Salvatore that the basic instinct of what he was should be fought.

Nobody.

"It's not that simple Elena!" Damon snarled at her, unintentionally forcing his vampire visage through. He was glad his anger was getting the best of him, it would make it easier to say what was on his mind and not have to think about the consequences. "It's harder than you think! Take Stefan for example, or me before I came here. The only reason I stopped is because I let my humanity get in the way. Because of you." He hissed acidly.

He saw Elena's hand slicing through the air, directing at its pathway towards his cheek, but Damon caught it before it was even an inch away from his face. He didn't even listen to the pained gasp of Elena, grabbed her elbow with his other hand, and twisted her arm behind her back, ramming her against the wall opposite them. She grunted in pain, but Damon was past the point of caring. If he was just a little more far-gone, then he knew he would be ripping her to shreds.

"What, did I say about slapping me!" He growled, enraged, into her ear, punctuating each word with a sharp twist of her wrist. She cried out in pain and tried to swipe at him with her other hand, but it didn't work. Elena brought her converse shoe down on his foot, but it had no effect, and Damon's vampire hearing picked up the twinge of the tiny bones in her foot.

Damon was completely vexed - he didn't even think there was a word to describe what he felt - about the fact that Elena thought she could just slap him every time he made her angry or said something she didn't like. He was not one of her puppets anymore, Damon decided he would leave the pathetic and doting role to Stefan. Elena's whimpers registered in Damon's mind, and he chuckled evilly.

"Damon this isn't you!" Elena cried. There she goes again, trying to tell me, that I'm not me. Pathetic, weak, stupid girl. But I'll show her soon, I'll show everyone soon, exactly the monster I really am. Damon's thoughts were getting the better of him, but he wasn't going to stop them. In his head, it was free reign over what was said, and best of all, Elena wasn't in there bothering him.

"This is exactly me, Elena." His tone was much calmer, which meant he was much more dangerous. "Get used to it."

"What the hell's going on here?" Stefan's shocked voice cut through the silence his chilling remark had formed. Damon released Elena, and she ran straight into Stefan's arms. Talk about dependent, she's worse than Bella Swan. Damon thought. Alright, maybe she wasn't as bad, but it was a close second.

"Nothing." Damon walked towards his brother, and Elena twisted her head so she could send him her best death-glare, although with the tears - like salty raindrops leaving silver tracks - running down her face, it was ruined. "I've got a Council meeting, so you just keep chasing your tails trying to find a vampire who is trying to survive." He whispered the last word with a meaningful glance at Elena, and continued on out of the parlour.

~ooOOoo~

"Damon, I'm glad you could make it." Liz smiled at him as he walked into the usual room in the Lockwood's apartment. Damon smiled back, feeling a lot calmer. Rides in his Camaro always calmed him down. He had no idea why, he thought it was something to do with the fact he could push it to its limits and he wouldn't feel the effects if he crashed.

"Liz, let's cut to the chase, you think it was me, don't you?" Damon looked at the two females in the room, and suddenly realised it wasn't a Council meeting, just a private talk between the two of them. Liz was the only one on the council who knew about his "lifestyle" so he guessed she must have told Carol, otherwise she would have probably shot at him with a vervain dart by now.

"No, actually, I don't." Liz admitted with a shake of her head, and Damon fought the urge to smirk. "But Stefan has crossed our minds a few times. Especially since his latest massacre wave through the Eastern Seaford."

"It wasn't him." If there was ever a time for Damon to tell the truth, it was now. He was supposed to take the heat for his massacre, not Stefan. If Liz and Carol whispered about it behind closed doors and word somehow got to Klaus, all his work - however enjoyable - would have been for nothing.

"How can you be sure?" Liz asked. Damon noticed Carol was very quiet, and was likely calculating how long it would take him to tear them both apart.

"Because I'm gonna tell you the same thing I told Ric when we were tailing him and Klaus." Damon looked around at both women. There's a reason they call him "The Ripper", he feeds so hard he blacks out, but then when he's done, he feels remorse and puts the bodies back together."

"P-Put's them back together?" Carol stuttered with disbelief written all over her face.

"No idea why, probably one of his twisted ways to make himself believe he didn't kill them." Damon shrugged. His brother was a complete mystery to him, why would he bother killing someone if he was just going to be eaten alive by the remorse and try to delude himself into believing he had only fed, not killed.

"A Ripper who feels remorse." Carol mused, deep in thought.

"Exactly." Damon nodded. "Right now, he's with Elena and they're trying to find out who the vampire is." He couldn't help but laugh at the whole Killer Instinct theme to it all. They were trying to get inside the mind of a vampire who was in the process of throwing himself off the rails, but they didn't know that said vampire was right under their noses.

"And you're positive it's not him?" Carol asked.

"Yes Carol, I'd stake myself if it was." Damon said. "Okay, maybe not, but I'd do something unexpected. Maybe date a man for a few weeks..." He turned to Liz. "Is your ex doing anything tonight?" He winked at her. She smiled, and Damon liked to think she was a real friend to him. She knew of his "habits" but didn't do anything to change them or him. Unlike a certain someone.

"Okay Damon." Liz chuckled. "You can go. And you're welcome to show up at the memorial for the victims."

"Thanks, let's just hope it's the last." Damon put on a sympathised look, and turned around to leave. As his hand curled around the doorknob, the sympathy slid off his face, and his lips twitched into a devious smirk.

Are they all just oblivious? Or really dumb? Damon thought devilishly, turning the door handle and walking out. He strolled through the Lockwood's mansion, taking note of how it wasn't much different from its 1864 predecesing building. Although Damon knew it wouldn't be as ornate and lavished as it was, if it wasn't for all the expensive and rare possessions the tomb vampires had.

The ride back to the boarding house was quick and short, due to there being little traffic, and Damon's newly rising anger. He didn't know what he was angry at this time, but he knew it was something. Right now, he could put Tyler Lockwood to shame, and that was saying something.

Damon walked up the stairs, heading to his room, where he was ready for a nice, hot bubble bath. He passed Stefan's room, and the door was ajar. He couldn't resist peeking in to see if he was writing about the "agonizing torment" of his Ripper tear, or about the recent attack at the Grill. Damon loved being able to stir things up without causing any real suspicions about him. He didn't see Stefan at his desk though, he saw Stefan in front of the long, floor-length mirror, fixing the tie.

"Hey Steffy, what've you got all dressed up for?" Damon asked.

"The memorial." Stefan said, eyes locking into his in the mirror. "If a psycho vampire is out there, Elena's going to need protection." Damon rolled his eyes. Protect Elena this, protect Elena that. Sheesh, doesn't this guy have anything better to do? His thoughts were getting meaner and much more spiteful, but Damon was never one for caring about trivial things, that was Stefan's forte.

"Elena? She knew someone who died?" Damon asked.

"No, but that's not the point." Stefan turned around to face him. "She cares if someone dies."

"Maybe a little too much." Damon's tone was blunt this time. "It's not her problem, the weight of the world does not rest entirely on her shoulders." Compassion never usually bothered Damon, although he never fully understood it, or how Elena could have the masses that she did, and never stopped using, no matter how tough things became. The Sacrifice was an over-used, but prime, example.

"Are you going or not?" Stefan's voice broke him out of his reverie. Damon was about to shake his head "no", but then he thought about how many people there were going to be. There had been probably more than thirty people at the Grill, so there would be even more at the memorial service. He would only have to kill one, and display it to start the hysteria again.

"I'll drive." Damon said, reaching inside his pocket and drawing out his car keys, jingling them as he forced his face into a smile. He hated pretending much more than he let on. Once Stefan was finished adjusting his tie, Damon ushered him out of his room, down the stairs and through the front door. Elena was there.

"Damon?" She had a shocked look on her face, but there was anger in her eyes. In Damon's own defense, it was self-defence. As per usual, she had hit him - or tried to - whenever nothing went her way, or she heard something she didn't like. She was starting to show for the huge baby she was. "What are you doing here?"

"Uh, I live here. Honestly Elena..." Damon smirked at her and she scowled at him. He raised his hands in a defensive position. "I'm driving." He stated, jerking his head towards the Camaro. "Do you really want to drive Stefan's rustbucket?"

"Hey, it's a classic." Stefan deflected lightly.

"Yeah, a classic rustbucket." Damon chuckled. "Get in." The three of them walked towards Damon's Camaro, with him occupying the driver's seat, and Stefan and Elena took the back seats. Elena had sat in the middle and was cuddling up to Stefan. Damon's knuckles went white while he gripped the steering wheel. Wasn't it bad enough that Stefan had gotten the girl yet again, and now Elena was flaunting her choice in his face.

Damon gritted his teeth, and turned the ignition, reversing out of the drive-way and onto the main road. The car rolled down the road, and Damon flicked on the radio to break the awkward silence. One of his favourite songs by Smashing Pumpkins now blared throughout the car.

"You two lovebirds alright back there?" Damon called over the seat, dialling the music down a little so he could hear them. "Wallowing in self-pity and feeling sad for people you didn't even know because they died?"

"You don't have to be snarky about it." From the rear-view mirror, Damon saw Elena lift her head and growl at him. "They were innocent people, just like those people you killed before officially announcing your return to Mystic Falls." She was patronising him, and Damon hated it. Nobody would understand that he was doing it for Stefan, Elena least of all. It was better to keep a lid on it.

"Okay, in my defense, I was trying to frame Stefan, and announce my return to Mystic Falls, and I couldn't very well do it with a parade, now could I?" Damon chuckled. He spotted the Mystic Falls cemetery, and saw the vigil that Carol and Liz had set up inside the bars of the large iron gates. "Here we are." He parked the car, and switched the ignition off, climbing out without giving Stefan and Elena so much as a backward glance.

He walked into the cemetery, refusing a candle from the girl who was giving them out, and went to stand near where the podium was. Like before with Stefan and Elena, he would have to make sure either Carol or Liz saw him before he went anywhere. Damon had never liked funerals much, not since he attended the one his Father had for his Mother. Giuseppe had made it seem more like a party, and Damon was disgusted, and had chosen to leave early with Stefan so they could pay their respects in private.

"Thank you all for coming." Carol's voice was magnified into the microphone, and the general layer of chatter hushed immediately. "Those who were related or had a connection of some sort, you have my sincerest condolences, and to those who have come to honour the dead or support friends, you have my thanks."

All was silent as the people around him - Elena and Stefan included - dipped their heads towards their candles. Time to make a scene. Damon grinned, rushing off in a blur of supernatural speed. He came to a stop behind the small stage, and saw a worker who was tangling himself into some cables. Cables which held the lights. Damon eyed a metal rod propped up against a tree, and an idea came to mind.

"What are you back here, Sir?" The worker asked as he saw him.

"Just shut up, and don't scream." Damon compelled him, and luckily the man fell silent. He tore his fangs into his neck, and tried to make the feeding process as quiet as possible so he didn't alert anyone. After a moment or two, the man fell down. Dead.

Damon walked over to the cables, and pulled up the mess that the worker had made of them, harshly slashing his nails across them. As they severed clean in half, sparks rained down to the ground from the dimmed lights, and people were screaming and murmuring in fear or confusion. Before anyone could come around the back and investigate, Damon picked up the metal pole, and, holding the man's body up against a large tree, rammed it straight through, pinning him to the tree.

Another blur of air was the finishing touches. The curtain behind Carol came away, and Damon was back in his original spot by the time it fluttered to the ground. Oh how delicious the screams were, how pathetic they looked grabbing onto their loved ones. Carol was trying, but failing miserably, to keep order, and Elena was burying her head into Stefan's shoulder.

"Get her out of here." Damon mouthed over to his brother, and he nodded. Damon tossed Stefan the car keys, and caught them in a closed palm. He briefly consoled Elena before taking her out of the graveyard.

"Damon!" He turned to the source of the yell, to find Liz inspecting the body while her Deputies began escorting or leading people out. The escorts were for the extremely distressed.

"Think it was by the same person?" Damon asked in a false worried voice.

Liz took her torch away from the man's bloody gash. "Wound radius and jaw pattern looks the same, and we can determine he was only held up by the pole for display. We can run this one as another animal attack, although we don't know how many more this town is going to believe. We might have to try other possibilities." She told him. "Maybe an occult ritual or something?"

"Maybe." Damon smiled at her. "Well I'm gonna go home, make sure Stefan wasn't thrown into ripper-dom by all the blood." He turned away from her and walked towards the gates, only he turned left instead of right. He wasn't going home, he was going to go to the place where he had claimed as his "thinking spot" when he was a little boy.

It was nothing special, a large log surrounded by pine trees, but Damon was still drawn to it after one hundred and forty-five years. He went up to the nearest pine tree, and snapped two burly looking branches off them. He sat down by the log and began to strike them together. It was a lengthy, tedious process, but it paid off, as a warm fire was now crackling. He broke off the smaller, thinner branches from the log, and tossed them in.

"What are you doing here?" Damon asked as he un-intentionally inhaled Klaus' unique scent from behind him. He turned towards the hybrid, his eyes flashing a haunting color in the flames of the roaring fire. "Figured you'd still be trying to sire yourself a hybrid army."

"Just watching my new potential companion." Klaus stated, coming towards him. But instead of standing next to him, he sat down on the log, patting a spot next to him. Damon dropped the large stick he'd been stoking the fire with, and hesitantly sat down next to the hybrid, feeling some sort of unknown heat radiating off his body. "Now, why is it always the younger vampires who make such a mess?"

Gently with one of his hands, Klaus held onto Damon's head, bringing the other one near his chin. Klaus swiped his thumb across Damon's chin, catching the bloody trail that was there. Something hot streaked down Damon's back, and he shuddered, Klaus smiled, seemingly pleased and Damon blinked in confusion. "What are you doing?"

"Just giving you a few pointers." Klaus smiled at him, looking at him with some sort of satisfaction before he slid his thumb into his mouth, and licked off the blood that had been on Damon's chin. "Enjoy the hunt Damon, let them scream. It's mesmerizing, the euphoria of your prey being consumed by its own fear as you drain the life out of them."

"You are very good at poetry, anyone ever told you that?" Damon smirked at him, trying to ignore how tempting Klaus looked as he was illuminated by the embers of the fire. He shouldn't be thinking about him like that, but he was, and he wasn't doing anything to stop it.

His blood already tasted delicious, and Damon wondered what other traits he had. He slyly looked at Klaus' hands, and then thought about how they pinned him down and rendered him helpless. Damon had hated it, but there was a secret part of him that craved the fight, the fact he was having to gasp for air, the fact that he wasn't the one in control.

"Try it next time you feed, Damon." Klaus shifted his body so he could face him without having to turn his head. "No remorse, no conscience, and no worrying about what Elena will think." He said. Damon clenched his fist inside his pocket. He was completely and utterly done with that girl, she was the bane of his existence. He suddenly remembered when Stefan had said that history wouldn't repeat itself where Elena was concerned, but it already was, and Stefan was so blinded by his feelings for her, that he forgot to notice.

"I'm past that. She's getting on my nerves lately, she thinks all vampires should fight their natures like Stefan, and that the blood lust is "easy to control, you just have to want it bad enough"." Damon quoted her in a poor imitation of her voice. "Did I mention she was getting on my nerves?" He said quickly and in exasperation.

"Soon, it'll be worth it. If, that is, you can prove that you're worse than Stefan." Klaus reminded him, and Damon reinstated it in his mind that leaving with Klaus and leaving a judgemental Elena behind, would be the pot at the end of the very long rainbow, he would just have to bide his time, and become more ruthless with his killing.

Damon's head darted up at the sound of leaves rustling and twigs snapping. "Here's your chance." Klaus told him. Damon strained his ears, picking up the sound of a heartbeat. The fact whether it was male or female, was confirmed as a blonde ranger walked into view of them.

"Are you guys alright out here?" She asked, shining the ray of light her torch created towards them.

"We're fine love, no need to worry." Klaus told her, and Damon smirked. They were fine, she wasn't. Damon was suddenly grateful for all the fresh human blood he had drank today, as he could smell the ranger's blood, and he found the rare scent of a virgin. Virgins had the best blood - it came in close second to Klaus' - in his opinion, because they were clean, and all their pent-up desires and dirty thoughts spiced it up.

"Klaus don't lie to the woman." Damon reprimanded him, standing up. He began walking towards the girl. "Actually, there's every need to worry." She didn't realize she was in the presence of two of the world's deadliest creatures, or that she was headed into a certain death. Damon walked extremely close to her, and her body immediately assumed a defensive stance.

"Sir?" She asked gently. "Are you okay?"

"I will be." Damon responded, smirking. He summoned his fangs from the secret spot in his gums, and felt his veins crawl along his face, pushing against his skin. His eyes burned as the whites turned to midnight black. The woman's eyes widened and she shrieked in fear. Damon snarled, wrapping his hands around her neck in an effort to drag her towards him, but she kneed him in the stomach and his grip loosened slightly, allowing her enough time to run into the depths of the forest.

Damon wasted absolutely no time, and rushed after her, hearing the undergrowth rustle as the air was disrupted around him from his speed. He felt like he was going noticeably faster, and he praised the things that fresh human blood could do for him. Damon decided to take another turn back into his old ways, and leapt up into the tree, gaining pace over the girl.

He watched through the darkness, his eyesight being sharper than usual, and scanned the forest floor for the girl. He found her, panting rapidly and hunched over as she clutched at her side. Damon inhaled the air, and her undeniable fear made the scent in his nostrils much sweeter, and made the hunt much more exhilarating. It was addictive like a drug, sensing his prey's fear of something that they thought at first was a figment of their imagination, a distortion of reality and making their hearts race.

Finally, she came to stand under the branch that Damon was perched on, and he dropped down towards her, pinning her between her to the forest floor. He gave a feral growl before tearing into her skin, making her screams echo all around the forest. Birds flapped away anxiously, and the undergrowth creeped with discomfort.

"That's more like it." He heard Klaus' comment over the adrenaline pumping through his body, before a low hiss reached Damon's ears, and Klaus sunk his fangs into the other side of the girl's neck. Damon had never been one for sharing his kill like this, unless he was drunk, but since Klaus was older and stronger, Damon didn't have a say on this one.

The girl's neck fell away from both pairs of fangs as the hands holding her body dropped her. There was an empty space between Damon and Klaus now, and Klaus didn't hesitate to fill it. Damon was wary, but not wary enough to try and take Klaus on. He seemed more... relaxed than usual. Damon froze as Klaus' hand brushed away a stray tendril of his raven hair, and his eyes roamed his body with a hungry look.

Klaus' lips were getting closer and closer to Damon's and his brain was screaming at him to push Klaus away or at least back away, but Damon couldn't hear anything over the rapid drumming of his heart that he swore Klaus could hear. The blond male's hand pressed itself gently around his waist, and the contact between them made Damon succumb completely in mind, and in that moment he knew his actions were all his own, and not something Klaus was forcing upon him.

Holding the back of Damon's neck with a pressure too hard to be tender, but too light to be bruising, Klaus' lips finally smothered Damon's in a carnal kiss, igniting every single fire in his body, every nerve in it responding to Klaus' presence.

Pressing both his palms against Damon's chest, Klaus rammed him into a nearby tree, and his hands flew up to fist Damon's mass of hair between his fingers. Damon rested his own on Klaus' chest, and felt Klaus guiding his tongue to flick over his lips. Damon felt them, and his entire body, tremble before he opened his mouth to Klaus and the pinked muscle continued its exploration of his mouth.

"This is wrong." Damon moaned in bliss, feeling a foreign heat spread through him. "So wrong..."

"So stop me." Klaus dared him, his face still extremely close.

"Mmm, no." Unable to resist the temptations that came by looking at Klaus' lips, Damon gently pressed his own to them, and Klaus returned the action with such a tender passion, Damon was stunned to the point where his brain shut down, and he let his hands do the talking, sliding one up his chest and wrapping one around the back of Klaus' neck.

It didn't strike Damon odd that he was kissing a man, because it wasn't a unusal subject for him, but what did strike him as odd, was the fact that it was Klaus. But he wasn't going to stop until Klaus made the decision to break away from him. His lips just tasted too damn desirable.

That contact broke sooner than Damon would have liked, and he scowled. Klaus smiled at him, and cupped the side of his face with one hand, and with his other, started tracing the outline of his lips.

"When?" Damon asked suddenly, out of the blue, breaking the serenity between them. He was becoming desperate, not just for Klaus to kiss him again, but he had to get out of this town soon, or he would start going insane.

"Soon, Damon, soon." Klaus whispered against his bloody lips, kissing them gently. "I promise."

And Damon knew Klaus always kept his promises.

~ooOOoo~

(A/N) Alright, how was that for a second chapter? I know, a bit long (bitch please, it was extremely long - on the wordpad document anyway), but be honest, and lemme know how I did, and remember what I said at the beginning of the chapter about the quotes. Also, lemme know how I did with the "horror" scenes, that'd be nice, oh and the little Klamon exchange at the end. :-)

Man I had fun writing that thing... Oh, and the bit where Damon hurt Elena for slapping him. What I wouldn't give for him to have done that.

Oh well, a girl can dream. See you soon.