Not On Your List
Chapter One

For my friend Emma (Vampraic Kitten). Who I met like last year and is so much like me she's like my TWIN!


1939, Florence

Hans couldn't understand why the boy before him was travelling alone. Well, not a boy. A young man. But being middle-aged, Hans saw all youths as infants.
The man had slicked-back dark hair and eyes to match. He dressed nobly and walked with an air of authority and contained savagery.
Hans' lip curled and he motioned for his men to take action.
The street was empty. Except for the twenty-something stalking the alleys.

"You there!" Hans called, waving. The boy turned slowly, a smile playing on his lips. Hans and his mini-army stepped forward and inspected him. "Where are your papers?" he asked.
The boy shrugged, flashing a smile. Hans' insides did somersaults. If he had any sense…

The others were amused and were hopelessly trying to hold in laughs. There were two things Hans hated. Being embarrassed and being disobeyed.
He slapped the boy hard across the face. The boy's head jerked back and his left cheek flooded pink.

"Now do you remember?" Hans hissed, wringing his hands at his sides. Slowly, the boy turned back to face Hans and bore teeth the size of walrus tusks, his eyes deathly cold.
The men froze, stammering apologies.

"W-W-What are you?" Hans stammered, backing away. The boy stepped forward, stalking his pray. Then, pondering for a second, conjured up the cheesiest line of them all. "Your worst nightmare," he whispered.


"…a group of Nazi soldiers have been discovered dead in Florence after promoting German warfare in Italy… The World War continues… Hitler is taking the murders as an act of terrorism… it is expected that the war may turn from now on. The bodies were found drained of blood and the Nazis are taking on the murders themselves…"

Stefan's face turned cold and he switched the wireless off. It wasn't that the war had now spread to Italy. It was that maybe this time his brother had been caught.
It had taken decades to finally come back to Florence after his death, and now – after a few centuries – Damon was back too.

Sighing, Stefan prayed he wouldn't run into his elder brother and that this attack would make him move on. This was Stefan's turf now.
Switching the wireless back on, he waited for the names of the dead to be administered.
"Hans Rafael… Nathaniel Harper… Ebenezer Gray… Thomas Federline… Otto Rheska… Roman Grimbau and Miguel Senta."

Stefan wrote the names down and sighed again, running a hand through his curly black hair. Even if they were the enemy, he had to pay respects. His calendar was filled for the week. Now he had funerals to go to.


"You boy. What is your name?" The hundredth person asked for the hundredth time. Damon didn't remove his gaze from an interesting tile on the floor.
His hands were clasped loosely in his lap, his legs crossed elegantly. He hadn't yet bothered to wipe his mouth and dried flakes of blood smudged his lips and chin.

The sergeant stepped forward. He was more daring than the others who disturbed Damon's peace. "Tell me and I promise you'll be given a quick and painless death."
At that Damon snorted and lost interest in the conversation.

Suddenly, the sergeant started pleading. "Please give me your name," the German begged. "Hans Rafael was my brother. I feel I need to-"

"Damon,"
"W-What?" the sergeant stared in horror and disbelief. Damon felt surprised he'd told the man, who had more of a reason to hate him than the others. Yet he continued.
"Damon Salvatore,"

The sergeant turned away and nodded solemnly. Then, instructing the guards at the door to come in, he wiped eyes trying to form tears and shuffled away.
As he went, he whispered the words 'Gas him' and Damon watched his sandy head disappear as the door clanged shut, eyes aflame.


"… It has been confirmed that the murderer of the Nazi soldiers was a man in his early-twenties named Damon Salvatore… He was found at the scene and is now in Nazi custody. A train is already taking him to Auschwitz death camp…"

"Damon!" Stefan cursed. He looked about frantically for no other reason than to check for Nazis. 'Over here – it's the murderer's brother. Kill him!'
There was no way he could help Damon now.
If Damon was lucky…

Stefan relaxed.
Damon was the luckiest person he knew. Whatever the Germans threw at him wouldn't do much damage.He might as well have been invincible.

Stefan realised he'd been listening to the wireless too much.


Just the beginning people! Hope you liked it so far! I'll update soon.
Those who aren't interested in history - no need to fear, I'll make it as simple as possible :)