"The monsters were never
under my bed.
Because the monsters

were inside my head.
I fear no monsters,
for no monsters I see.
Because all this time
the monster has been me."

-Nikita Gill-

.

.

Damon Salvatore would never forget the first time he killed a man. He had been too young to truly understand death and probably more afraid than the man on the other side of the barrel of his gun, but he had done it because it was expected of him, because it was who he was born to be and because it was the only way he could protect the people he loved.

It couldn't be said that he enjoyed the killing, but over the years he had developed a taste for the violence, for how powerful it made him feel to have someone's life at his disposal, being the predator instead of the prey.

Damon never enjoyed feeling weak, which was why he put so much effort into becoming the one man everyone else feared. La Parca (The reaper) they called him, capable of ending a man's life with a mere twist of his hand, a soul as rotten as the face he displayed.

He needed only to move his eyes to the left to see the extent of his perversion, where Jax Mackenzie's ankles were gripped by rusty old chains as he hung head down into the pool of the warehouse Damon had chosen to be the other man interrogation room. A nasty place with dirty tiles and darkness seething into every corner, the muddy water of the pool mixed with the blood that dripped from the several injuries made in the man's body. It was a horrid spectacle and yet he didn't even flinch at the sight presented before him.

Darkness was all he knew.

His clear blue eyes were fixed on his prisioner from where he sat at the other end of the pool, his gaze tracing each cut and piece of burnt flesh in the other man's body. Damon knew Jaxton couldn't be having a good time and yet not a single word had slipped his mouth.

He respected him for that.

"You're a true soldier Jaxton," He said as he abandoned the rusty chair he was occupying and walked towards the prisoner "I admire your steely resolve but is it worth it? to give it all up for a man like the one you serve?"

Jaxton was a man in his forties, built and tall with a pair of grey eyes that could make any man shiver in fear, even now as he lay helpless in Damon's power he was intimidating and unflinching, a true warrior with no other propose but to serve.

Damon sighed loudly when he didn't get any response from the other man "You're not very talkative, right? Maybe that's why he chose you" He muttered as he grabbed the steaming poker that was resting on a grill at the far end of the room "I envy men like you Jax, I do. Nothing to cling to, nothing to hold power over you… it must be a very easy existence" Damon's right hand rose and he pierced the man's torso with the burning poker, his movement so swift and sudden that the other man didn't even see it coming "But also a very lonely one"

The painful wails resounded on the otherwise quiet place as Damon's twisted the poker inside the other man, more blood dripped from his wound into the filthy pool beneath him "I just need one name Jax, just a word and we can end this" He said as he pulled away the poker, but instead of the answer he wanted, the other man started laughing. "Something funny?" Damon asked, jaw clenched hard as he watched the mirth dance around his prisoner's face despite the precarious situation he was in.

"You can try all you want kid, but you'll never be able to end it, " There were the first words the prisoner uttered since he woke up under Damon's power and they made the young man's stomach recoil with disgust "There will always be someone else willing to do the job, willing to do it all for the pleasure it brings"

Bile rose up in his throat as the images he longed so hard to forget resurfaced in his brain "You sick fuck" He muttered before piercing the skin of his torso with the steaming poker once again, this time he didn't remove it. The pitiful cries of his prisoner filled his ears as he went towards the steel mechanism of the chains that held Jaxton above water.

"You can do whatever you want to me Damon" The other man shouted "I will not cave!"

Damon had had more than enough with Jaxton Mackenzie, he was a soldier built with the exact purpose of serving his master, a task he did very well. Knowing he wasn't going to get anything out of the man, he could finally surrender to what he wanted to do since the moment he had him under his power.

"I guess you won't yield" He whispered to himself before lowering the lever and observe as the other man descended below water; his body shook, his legs kicked in the unconscious need to remain above water but the binds around him were too strong to release him.

As he watched the life ebb away from the man's body, Damon felt another scrap of his soul being ripped away from him, another part of himself he was never going to get back.

With a disgruntled groan, he turned around and headed for the small office located at the other end of the property, he was feeling the need to put as much distance as he could and the man he had just killed.

After asking Mason to dispose the body and clean the mess, he directed himself to Stefan's apartment, wanting a moment to unwind and forget about what he had just done. It didn't use to be this way, when he was young, he could follow orders and don't even stop for a second to think about the repercussions of what he was doing.

After he killed his first man everyone that came after became easier, until his soul was so tarnished that he started to become the monster everyone feared. But for the last couple of years the weariness of it had started wearing down on him, the nightmares became too frequent and the little voice in his head that told him he was nothing but a beast got harder to ignore.

He parked in front of his brother's condo as was about to step outside when he saw a pretty little blonde walking inside and knew he couldn't stay there.

With nowhere to go and feeling more alone than ever, he started the engine of his classic blue Camaro and headed away, without direction or purpose. He got himself a room in one of his favorite's hotels in the city and ordered an absurd amount of food to be delivered to his room.

As he munched down on a steak he wasn't even enjoying he busied himself with making some calls to secure himself a nice penthouse somewhere in the city, he had over welcomed his stay in his brother's apartment and it was time for him to get a place of his own since he had no intentions of going back to John's house.

As he hung up the phone with the real state people, he couldn't help his thoughts to wander towards Elena and the things they had done the night the before. He could feel himself getting hard at the memory of her on her knees while she sucked him off, it had been heaven and hell mixed up in all the best ways.

He wouldn't even try to justify his actions because he knew there was no reason good enough to explain why he desired her so much, to understand how the little girl he practically raised himself had such an effect on him. It disgusted him sometimes, the kind of thoughts he had about her, how often he pictured himself buried deep inside her and how badly he wanted to possess her completely, another proof of the abomination he was.

He still remembered the first time he truly allowed himself to have such thoughts about her. She had been barely seventeen and had snuck into his room after he arrived from one of his works, his blood was pumping inside his veins with the adrenaline of what he had just done and he had tossed and turned on the bed unable to sleep. Then he had felt her lithe body slipping underneath his sheets, her naked skin barely concealed underneath the pink cotton nightgown she had been wearing.

"I can't sleep" She had whispered into his ear before snuggling into his arms, her legs tangling with his and making the place between his legs awake with desire.

"You should get your own bed" He had said between gritted teeth, barely able to contain himself and not throwing her down beneath himself and robbing her of the virtue he knew she still possessed.

"I don't like my bed" She had answered before burying her face in his neck, he had nearly groaned and pressed her closer into his body, he knew she was able to feel his erection against her, but instead of running away as he intended, she had moved against him, the little minx. "I like yours better"

He had lain still underneath her, not trusting himself to move or to say another word until he heard the sound of her breathing evening out and knew she was fast asleep in his arms, he was unable to sleep that night. His body too aware of the girl in his bed, in how wrong it was to desire her so much, in how similar it made him to all the predators that were out there.

Years later and he still couldn't shake the deep sense of shame that washed over him that night, the same it washed over him when he saw her on the floor in front of him or when he saw her eyes brimming with tears before fleeing the bathroom.

He hurt her, he was aware of it. He had taken and taken from her once again without giving her nothing in return except regret, he was a scoundrel and he hated himself for it, but he didn't know how to be different, how not to hurt her.

He was no good man and he would never be, there was no use in pretending otherwise.

If there was something about John Gilbert that needed to be admired, it was his ability to play pretend. To the people who saw only the façade, he was nothing but a businessman who worked hard to keep his family afloat and whose wife ran several charities, always doing the best to help the people who needed it the most.

It made Damon sick to his stomach, to see him and his mother exchange greetings and kisses with people who were too innocent to know better.

It was for said people that they all made an effort to dress in their best clothes and pretend to be the perfect family. One of his mother's favorite charities was having a gala, and Isabella would never forgive her sons for not attending.

Damon hated those social outings, but he usually found himself having a decent enough time making fun of everyone next to Stefan, flirting seamlessly with innocent debutantes and drinking his brother underneath the table, however, tonight didn't seem to be one of those nights.

He would have appreciated the girls throwing flirty looks at him, the good quality alcohol and the mouth-watering food if he hadn't been in such a sour mood since his encounter with Elena. No words had been exchanged between them and that was killing him.

He had watched her arrive with her hand on the arm of the blonde son of the congressman, her short hair was styled in messy waves and her dress was silky silver and fitted her like a glove; she looked exquisite and her beauty was completely wasted on that simpleton.

Damon's hand itched her to touch her, to pull her to him and drag her into a dark corner where he could do with her as he pleased. The fact he couldn't surrender to his desires made an angry ball of fire to grow deep in his chest, dampening his mood for the entire evening.

It didn't help that he spotted his step-father speaking with Alberto Briceño, the lead man of the most important Venezuelan criminal network. Damon despised the man, few people in the world were as abhorrent as he was, John was one of them and the fact he knew exactly what they were talking about made everything worse.

Damon felt like a ticking bomb, he knew patience was essential if he wanted to succeed, but he had never been very good at being patient, he was a man of action, going in for a swift kill was more his thing. Which was why he knew he would never be a good boss, no matter if everyone else thought otherwise.

Knowing he wouldn't be able to hold his tongue if we approached the men, Damon decided to turn around and head for the gardens so he could release some of the pent up frustration he was carrying by drowning himself in a glass of bourbon.

However, when he reached the balcony, he found it was already occupied by no other than his brother, whose entire attention was focused on the phone on his hand, the big grin he was sporting let Damon know who was the person at the other side of the phone.

Somehow, that only managed to fuel his anger.

"You might wanna learn to control your poker face, brother," He said as he stepped out, Stefan's face whirled in his direction so fast it was surprising he didn't whiplash.

"Damon" He muttered as he turned off his phone and slipped it inside his pocket, "I wasn't expecting you tonight"

The older brother shrugged nonchalantly as he closed the glass door behind him "I had a change of heart"

Stefan's face sobered up "I'm guessing you already saw him," He said, gesturing towards the ballroom where the party was currently being held.

Damon's jaw clenched at his brother's words, the sight of John and his dear friend had left him more than a little angry and now it seemed he had every intention of getting it all out against his little brother. " I did, and I also saw the stupid grin on your face"

A shadow crossed Stefan's face making his expression harden "Now it's not the time" He bit out and tried to slip past Damon, but his brother's hand on his shoulder stopped him from doing so.

"I'm surprised you didn't bring her" Damon nearly hissed as he pushed Stefan so he ended up standing before him "With all the stupid decisions you are taking lately"

The younger brother's eyes flashed in anger "Ya Basta" (Knock it off) The words slipped out in Spanish, something only usually happened whenever he wasn't able to control his temper "Ya lo hablamos" (We already had this discussion)

Damon's nostrils flared "No we didn't. You talked and I pretended to listen" He threw a glance to his surroundings to make himself sure they were alone before leaning down and murmuring in his brother's face "El FBI me ha estado siguiendo" (FBI has been following me)

Stefan's face blanched "What?"

"Y tu aun no sabes, como mantener a raya a esa perra" (And you still have no clue in how to keep the bitch away)

Stefan released an anxious sigh while he turned around and headed to the balustrade of the balcony "Dame tiempo carajo" (For fuck sake, just give me time) He said as he ran his hands through his hair, leaving a disheveled trail behind.

Damon released a dark humorless laugh "Time is the only thing we don't have Stef" He took a few steps until he was once again crowding his younger's brothers personal space "I once thought you would be fit to become the next boss but it seems I overestimated you. I might have to switch places with you, perhaps with a good fucking that girl will open her mouth instead of just her legs" His words were venomous and left a bitter taste in his mouth, yet he wasn't able to stop "Or maybe I should pay a visit to her mother, let her know how good her daughter will look with a bullet between her eyes"

Stefan's nostrils flared as he breathed deeply "Stop it"

Damon's lips twisted in a cruel smirk "Or perhaps we'll just hand her over to John's Venezuelan friends"

Stefan's face contorted in rage before he lunged himself at his brother "Hijo de puta" (You son of a bitch) He hissed before throwing the first punch straight to Damon's jaw.

The older brother felt the tangy taste of blood and widened his smile, he had been looking for a good fight and that was exactly what he had got. He allowed his brother one more free punch before he lunged back at him, his fist connecting with his nose violently.

Stefan was about to go to him again when the sound of the crystal doors of the balcony closing made them stop, they turned around to see a mad looking Elena staring down at them "If you trying to get caught, you'll succeed soon " She hissed as she took in their rumpled appearance, disdain etched into her face as her eyes moved to Damon "What is wrong with you?" She asked and it dawned on him that she had heard every single word he had said before his brother hit him "You make me sick" She glared at him one last time before turning around and disappearing behind the door.

"Fuck" Damon roared as he dropped his head against the wall, completely forgetting his brother's presence behind him.

He often wondered if killing wasn't the only talent he possessed, he sure as hell seemed to have a flare to fuck things up. He had started the day with clouds hovering over his head and was ending it with a freaking storm unleashed on him.