Lettie's face claim is Shay Mitchell. I do not own Vampire Diaries, just Lettie.

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Monachopsis: def. the subtle but persisting feeling of being out of place

Chapter One:

Retribution

Trapped in darkness, all one can hear is the echoes of the past.

Confusion.

"Are you ill, sister? This family has been nothing but good to you."

Pleading.

"Please, sister. I think I love him," I beg in one such memory.

Anger.

"Don't do this, Katerina, I beg of you!"

Panic.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?"

Horror.

"No, no, love— please, please, stay with me! Please, I can't—," I begged between terrified sobs, desperately clutching at his shirt and feeling the blood coating my fingers, scarlet and warm.

Hate.

"I will never forgive you for this. You are no sister of mine."

Betrayal.

I could feel my throat gagging on my own blood. Choked gasps leaving me as she cradled my head, watching me bleed out. It's so, so cold.

"I'm sorry, little sister," she quietly wept, as if that pathetic apology would change any of what she had done.

I would never forgive her.

And then, I closed my eyes for the final time as Liliya Petrova.

—————

Now, imagine my surprise when I awoke again.

Everything is loud and confusing, and I find myself able to finally use my voice after years of darkness and emptiness.

My body feels so much, I can tell that I'm being passed around by many large hands, loud voices booming around me— but nothing they say makes sense. They all shout things like 'blood pressure' and 'heart rate' and it hurts my sensitive ears. Attempting to call out to tell them to quiet down, I'm surprised when I can't actually move at all.

"I think we're getting her back, ladies and gentlemen," the voices are much easier to hear now, and the weight on my eyes is starting to lift.

Squinting my eyes open is extremely jarring, not having felt any physical sensation for the last... how long had I been in that darkness? Where even was I now? The light was so very bright; but, within a few slow blinks, it all started to fade into colors, shadows, and lines, painting me a much clearer picture.

However, it's just as confusing and chaotic as it had felt when I hadn't been able to see anything at all.

There's a man in strange white clothes in front of my face with a blinding light in his hand, making me squint at the harshness of it as his withered hands turn my head to and fro. I don't know whether or not to be afraid as he looks into my gaze with kind blue eyes. There are also several women in matching blue outfits— and all wearing trousers.

A significant amount of time has passed.

"Lettie? Can you hear us, Lettie?" The man asks softly, finally putting that cursed light down.

English?

My throat feels raw and unused, as if it's been caked in mud, and I suddenly feel myself starting to cough; an absolutely terrifying sensation for someone who hadn't felt a thing in a very long time. My shoulders heave as my body leans forward, and suddenly a clear cup is thrust into my vision.

The strange man smiles down warmly at my heaving self, water in hand, and I don't even think before I snatch it and pour the entire contents down my scorching throat. The soothe of it is nearly celestial, the closest I've come to feeling salvation since my death.

My gaze narrows suspiciously on the man, not understanding any of what had just happened.

"Where am I?" I ask roughly, my throat unused to the vibrations.

The man glances down momentarily, as if he's afraid to tell me what has come to pass.

"You are a resident in Mystic Falls Hospital. I'm your doctor, Dr. Maddox. What do you last remember?"

My thoughts rapid fire after one another at that.

I don't know where I am; I don't know who this man is; but, I am sure that I have been dead for a very long time, judging by the obvious advancements in medical care.

Whoever I am right now is not Liliya Petrova.

"I can't recall," I reply with a genuine look of confusion, blinking vapidly at the doctor. "Is my name Lettie?"

It was better than nothing, I thought to myself as the older man nodded his assent; thick, bushy eyebrows knit tightly together in concern as he began to write on a small stack of paper bound together. His reaction does little to set me at ease, and when he look up at me with sad eyes, I get more concerned.

Was this new body ill?

Sighing, the doctor moves his seat closer to my white as snow bed, compassion bleeding through his gaze.

"Lettie, I believe that you may have a case of retrograde amnesia. This isn't uncommon for patients in your condition, but it's typically important to take in small doses of information so that you are not overwhelmed. However, I've known you since you were young— so it's my responsibility to tell you something that is not small. Do you understand?"

Nodding back, I feel my brows furrow tightly, nervous for what the kindly man had to say.

Sighing morosely, he finally says, "Lettie, you've been in a coma for the last month. I'm deeply sorry to be the one to inform you, but your family has passed away."

...

That was it?

Why would I even care if I didn't remember them in the first place?

"I understand," I reply with a blank expression, making the old man's face twist bittersweetly, "I'd greatly appreciate some time to myself, doctor."

The man's face looks stern for a brief moment until I force tears into my eyes, and then, he folds like a quilt.

"Of course, Lettie," the kind doctor sighs after a moment, "Press the call button when you're ready— or if you need anything, alright? Someone should be up with some medicine to help you recoup soon."

I don't reply, instead staring at my folded hands on the thin white blanket in front of me. Well, 'my' was a bit too far. These hands were clearly not mine; bronzed and much larger than the small hands Liliya Petrova had once had.

The doctor takes my silence as what it is: a cue to leave me be. He slowly meanders with his handmaidens out of the white, shiny room, leaving me to myself just as I had wished.

There was no time to sit. I needed to get out of here.

I had no idea what happened to the female orphans of this day and age— but, my time had not been kind to them. I refused to allow that fate or any similar kind to dictate this new life.

Glancing down at my own body more, I realize that I am also much taller than before, with long, black, thick hair that spilled over my shoulders. And that's when I see the needles.

The needles inserted under my flesh were connected to several strange inventions, things that I couldn't understand. Inherently disgusted at the idea of anything in my skin, I gently twist out the lines, biting my lip hard enough to make me taste copper at the sharp pain it causes.

The machines begin to make noise, and I realize that it must have a sort of notification system for escapees. It's noisy on my sensitive ears, and all I want it to do is stop.

And then, it does.

I still had my magic.

I wasn't completely helpless in a new world.

Feeling the unused muscles of my face stretch into a wry grin, I quickly remove the thin blanket covering my legs, focusing my magic on healing my atrophied body.

Lowly whispering, "лекувам," my smile grows ever wider as I feel my strength return to me, a healthy bronzed glow slowly reappearing on my pale, bare legs. The wounds from the machines slowly close as well, and I clench my fist tightly, looking at it once more.

These were not my hands.

Glancing over towards the door where the doctor exited, I realize that it's the only exit from the overly-white room. The only way out was through.

I stand easily from the bed, seeing now that I am wearing a cheap gown made of stiff white fabric. It falls to about my calves, but it'd still have been scandalous to wear in my time.

Oh well, there's not much freedom to choose now.

I was definitely much taller than before, a pleasant change from my diminutive size in my last life.

Spotting a mirror alongside the long grey table towards the back, I quickly rush over towards it. Knowing what I looked like right now was extremely pertinent information, especially in a settlement that had apparently known me for a long time before I had awakened.

I blink in surprise at the reflection in front of me, quite relieved to see that I'm not hideous or deformed in anyway— but, rather quite pretty. I thought perhaps that was why I had been sequestered away in my own room, but I guess I was wrong.

One thing that fiercely stands out amongst the rest is my eye color. It was the same as before— a deep violet.

Well, at least something stayed. Did the girl have these originally? Or was this an effect of me taking over?

Finally stepping forward on the cold, smooth floor, I try not to get overwhelmed by the obvious changes I can see just in this room as my hand grips the doorknob. I take a deep, shaky breath, finally twisting it open as the doctor did before.

There were people fretting to and fro in the continued white halls; some in the same uniforms that the doctor and the handmaidens had been in, others in completely different outlandish clothing of many colors and textures. Meandering further out, several of them eye me curiously, but otherwise do nothing to stop me.

A favorable sign.

There's a nearly endless maze of white corridors, each looking like the last, until I finally find several signs pointing to exits. They glowed an unnatural green, and it was strange to see how far we had come from torches and candles.

Yet another change that I'd have to adapt to, the unnatural lighting within this time's hospitals and potentially all other homes now.

Finally, I pass by a large seating area, several people looking at me as if they'd seen a ghost, nearly gasping.

Ah, whoever this is must be well-known. Lovely.

Turning away from them, my eyes catch on a large clear door in front of me, one that opens and closes as other people approach. It's all so simple, and it feels so easy. The other people in the matching uniforms don't even look up from their papers as I slip out into the cool evening.

The ground underneath my feet is rough, but not unfamiliar; exhilarating in its coldness as I start to sprint away from the hospital— instead retreating into what I know: nature. There is a thick line of trees along the back of the massive hospital, and I quickly ignore whatever bizarre wagons are scattered about the building. No time for new things, I needed to become grounded and figure out how I wished to do things this time.

And that's when I feel it.

A pulse in the earth— a great source of magic from deep within the woods.

Immediately, I feel a familiar hunger claw at me; one that would not stop until it was sated. The continual magical pulse draws me in like a siren's call, and I'm unable to deny it as my bare feet sprint through the dark forest, evening air chilling my naked body under the gown. I don't even really feel the lacerations as they appear on my feet, well aware that they'd disappear once this intense gnawing had been satisfied.

I had hoped that this part would stay dead.

—————

I finally snap out of my starved stupor— and I don't understand how I've arrived to where I am now.

My eyes first see my bare feet in the familiar glow of a fire surrounding me; both covered in cuts and bruises that slowly began to stitch themselves together. A large rush of euphoria makes my head tilt back as a blissful sigh leaves my mouth, feeling a cool crisp breeze chill something wet dripping from my mouth to my chin.

Licking my lips, I taste the familiar coppery tang of warm blood on my tongue, and I'm suddenly very aware of what has happened.

That magic from earlier... a witch.

I guess I had been more hungry than I thought, I think as I glance down over at a shoe in the corner of my eye.

A witch with blonde hair lies twitching on the forest floor, eyes fluttering still as she gags on her own choked breathing, blood dripping from a sizable wound in her throat.

Sighing at my own lack of self control, I'm surprised when I hear a shout of rage to my left.

I realize that I am within a large pentagram made of salt, torches lit to an obscene degree at each point that I could see.

Oh, I see, I've interrupted a ritual.

The man's face twists further into murderous rage, and I see dark veins stretch underneath his eyes, denoting his own supernatural status.

"MOTHER!" He shouts, blue eyes furiously snapping from the still-living body by my feet to my own nonplussed form. "You will pay with your life!"

I don't bother allowing him to move, doing what I knew would put most beasts down and twisting some of the surplus magic flowing through my veins with my finger, swiping down my magic and snapping his neck before he can move. His corpse hits the ground just as the rest of the magic in the air is absorbed into my body, flicking out the torches.

That's what happens when you hesitate.

My eyes quickly adjust to the darkness, able to see every detail of the forest just as easily as if it was daylight.

Spinning to leave in the opposite direction, I'm frozen in place at the sight of three men on the other side of the salt lines.

They seem to be somewhat surprised to see me as well, staring back at me intensely as an eerie silence settles into the clearing. The one who was dressed the most like a gentleman from my own time took a step forward across the salt circle first— but I glare fiercely at him, feeling my eyes flash brightly in warning.

"Move to strike me and you will meet the same fate," I snarl, in no mood to continue this now that I was well and full.

The blond man beside him suddenly scoffs, making my eyes narrow on him instead.

His blue eyes were a swirling vat of emotions that I could hardly read: spotting glimpses of bitterness, righteous anger, and wearing the overall expression of a man who was very pleased with a turn of events. It reminded me of how Father looked after he won animals from the bets he made with the fellow villagers.

"Now, there's no need for that, is there, Elijah?" He asks the suited man who had stepped towards me, instead taking confident strides until he just reached the border of the salt circle.

The blond stranger had a soothing English accent, and it made me feel both nostalgic and anxious.

"After all," the man continues before finally pinning me with an intense, unreadable look, "This young lady has just stopped our dear, traitorous mother and brother from escaping."

I have?

"I have?" I ask, confused; making sure to pay attention to where all three of them were so that I wouldn't be surprised.

This question apparently gives them pause once again, all three watching me as if they were searching for a lie. But, I was not lying. I had no idea who these people were, or what they had done.

The third one finally rolls his dark eyes in obvious disbelief, giving me a dark look.

"Oh? And, I'm guessing you just happened to find this particular ritual on this particular evening purely out of luck, then?" He sarcastically snides.

"Not particularly. I was hungry, and I smelled food," I reply honestly, completely unsure as to what was going on here.

That was their mother and brother? They don't want to kill me for massacring them?

Perhaps theirs was a similar relationship as Katerina and I's.

"Fascinating story, truly," the elegant man to the right states blandly; glancing down at the bodies at my feet before looking back up at me with a different glint in his dark eyes, "You wouldn't mind accompanying us so that we could validate your claims?"

My eyes flare once again, suspicious, "My answer will vary depending on yours. Do you plan to try and take me back to the hospital?"

A bark of laughter suddenly leaves the blond man's throat, an entertained grin dancing across his handsome face.

"Aren't you a strange, little witch eater," he commends, and I have a difficult time discerning whether or not it's actually a compliment.

"It's too bad that you don't have a choice in the matter."

That's the last thing I hear before there's a sudden blur towards me, and it all goes black.

A/n: hey! This is my very first fanfic, so thanks for reading. To potentially get some questions out of the way, I'll be answering some of the ones I have when I read a new fic.

1. Is Lettie/Liliya going to be paired with anyone?

A: Yes! Most likely one of the three Mikaelson brothers, but I have thought about Damon as a potential candidate, too. Let me know in the comments which pairing you're rooting for.

2. Are we going to find out what Lettie is?

A: All in good time.

3. Are you going to be changing the canon plot line?

A: Hell yeah. And, I kinda already did!

4. Does Lettie/Liliya have a face claim?

A: Also, yes. It's Shay Mitchell.

Thanks again for reading, and I hope this finds you all in good health! See ya next chapter.