One world apart, part 27: Unusual tools
Alaric swore as, quite obviously he might add, walking right into the clearing had just set him on fire. He had not thought of this. Retreating to the shadows of the trees, the Original squinted at the light that was blinding him a bit.
After a few seconds, he wasn't inconvenienced anymore. He didn't like the effects that being a vampire had on his sight. Not yet, anyway. He didn't like it at all. Maybe once he'd be used to it...
But for now, the slightest change in lighting was enough to send his mind into a hopeless spiral. He hadn't had that problem when he had been dead, certainly because at the time, dead vampire or not, he had seen through the Veil, not normally. There was a certain atmosphere to it, a tone he couldn't quite describe, an ambient screeching in the silence. Things that had told him he had been dead.
No matter, he liked being a vampire better than being dead, for now. He'd rather be human, mortal, not condemned to the Veil at the end of his life, but well. You didn't always get what you wanted.
He'd know.
A smirk grew on his lips, and Alaric mentally blessed Elizabeth Forbes, sheriff of Mystic Falls, because the woman had had the sense to move her prisoners in the shadows of two isolated trees, not quite on the side of the clearing. Going there would burn him, but he wasn't going to have to wait a few dozens of meters away and race back and forth to behead any ghost coming back to themself short of becoming a flaming torch.
Eh. Maybe it was Magdalena's idea, after all. His cousin had been the first on guard-and-beheader duty. Anyway, it worked for the best. And at least, that way, if anyone stumbled onto the clearing during the day, the first thing they'd see would hopefully not be a row of chained men and women on blood-soaked ground watched over by an officer of the law.
Oh God, Ric hoped no one had come around here, and seen that. Himself, Damon, Stefan, Caroline and Elena could compel anyone to forget, but neither the sheriff nor Mag would have been able to. The two women would have had to tie up the wanderer too, lest he went into town and started spreading rumors about the demented lawyer / sheriff.
The hunter used his enhanced sight to check out the "victims". None was put apart from the others, and they all had their head choped off... Well, he guessed that meant no one had walked right into this madness. Or, if they had, they were as dead as the ghosts here, more so, even.
Seeing as he had no reason to believe either Mag or Liz Forbes had gone mental during the last hours, Alaric concluded nothing regrettable had happened.
Enough stalling. He took a deep breath, preparing himself to ignore the pain he knew would come.
He blurred to the two trees. The sun was burning his flesh, almost from the inside of his skin. He could feel a hole gnawing at itself in his left cheek. It wasn't something he liked. Only a few seconds to reach the sheriff and her prisoners, but it felt to him like days. Autocombustion did that to him, usually.
Then his skin stopped hissing an angry smoke, a blister blasted away on his forehead, and his blood actually managed to bleed down his face and hands without evaporating right away. Ric didn't think it should be something relieving, but hell, when had his life been normal?
Right, let's not answer that.
He stopped two feet after the limit of the shadows. His skin tingled a bit, yet, so he looked up. Well, the leaves weren't completely shadowing him. Here and there, there was a lone ray of light that passed through, but even then, the light was toned down enough that it barely made him wince.
Better than nothing, he guessed.
Alaric turned around.
Something much more dangerous than a wandering spot of light amongst the dense leaves greeted him, and he ducked without even thinking about it. Of course, it wouldn't have actually done any lasting damage, but still. Getting shot in the head at point blank wasn't something he'd enjoy, he guessed. And he didn't intend on finding out.
"Wait, Sheriff! It's just me, Alaric."
Liz Forbes squinted at the newcomer, who had his back to the sun, and recognized Alaric Saltzman. She sighed, and put her gun away.
"Sorry. A ghost-werewolf strolled in half an hour ago, and well..."
The woman gestured vaguely to a poor ghost whose head had been blown apart not so long ago.
Ric arched both eyebrows, and whistled.
"I don't think he had expected this. Anyway, I'm here to take charge. The graduation ceremony should start soon, you should go. Caroline may be a vampire now, but she's a eighteen years old vampire, and she just finished high school. I'm pretty sure she'd want you to be here."
He glanced at the bodies around them. There were seventeen ghosts, apparently, and he recognized at least eight of them. He wasn't quite sure if the blond without a face over there was actually who he thought he was. And he didn't want to know why the ghost didn't have a face anymore. He suspected it had something to do with getting shot down or up the face from too close.
"Even with a ghostly invasion going on."
The sheriff laughed drily, and handed him a bloodied machete.
"It works wonders. I'm considering adding it to the official uniform of the Sheriff's Office."
It wouldn't be such a bad idea, actually, but Alaric guessed she'd have a hard time explaining it if someone asked. Keeping the supernatural under wraps really was taxing, sometimes.
The sheriff left, and Ric remained. He sighed loudly, and went to sit down against a tree trunk. When a head magically disappeared and reappeared on its original body, he would get up and chop it off again, mostly ignoring the shouting and other unpleasant words he got showered in with some prisoners. It wasn't like he was the one attacking people in the street for revenge – or worse, for no reason oyher than being a murderous asshole.
The workout was pleasant.
Then he picked up a voice, far away, that he knew not to come from the prisoners. For a moment, he considered blurring over there and compelling whoever it was to back away and go sight-seeing somewhere else. But he heard some special words, and recognized the voice.
Alaric tensed. He stood up. Better be prepared, just in case.
"Don't worry about it. We still have a few minutes to get to Caroline's graduation ceremony, and the smell of blood over here is so strong I can't ignore it. I don't want a slaughter happening today, when I've come to see her."
So, no scandal for Caroline's graduation. Alright. They could work on that. Hopefully, he'd just see what the blood was about, assume the hunter was just another ghost protecting his living friends, and walk by. They hadn't exactly parted on the best of terms, but well. Alaric had an excuse, Esther-shaped.
Klaus walked into the clearing. His eyes zeroed on him. Surprise!
Ric felt his throat going dry. He did so not want to see the original hybrid right now...
In the blink of an eye, the hybrid was next to him, wariness obvious in his stance.
"What the bloody hell is the meaning of this?"
Alaric shrugged slightly.
"Ghost invasion. These lovely fellows were munching on the good people, so we... put them in the corner, I'd say. It should be dealt with by tomorrow, and for now, I'm on guard duty, considering I would be hard to kill... again."
Before Klaus could say anything, the hunter added:
"I think Damon and Stefan woud appreciate some help watching over the graduation ceremony. Just in case a few of our dead enemies tried anything, you know?"
Concern immediately appeared on the Original's face. A body twitched a bit, probably about to come back to life. Klaus kicked it in the stomach. Then he looked back at the other Original – the only one who wasn't part of his family. He didn't seem to be totally convinced, but well.
The hunter shrugged again, his hands parted from his body as if in helplessness.
"I swear, I'm 100% sane, 0% psychopath. Death cured me, I suppose. Also, Caroline wasn't exactly expecting you to show up, but I'm certain she'll be delighted. Especially if you manage to save her life once more before the end of the day."
The look Klaus gave him was suspicious at best, but the older fanged-and-very-dangerous guy didn't try to rip his heart out of his chest or anything like that. Alaric decided to see that as positive. They managed to act civil towards each other. One point for civilisation.
Klaus turned back to the kid who had followed him but not said a word. A teen, probably, just under twenty, perhaps. Or just above, if he looked young. It could happen. Probably a vampire, too, or perhaps a werewolf. As long as he didn't try to attack anyone, Alaric saw no reason to act unfriendly.
Good thing, considering what Klaus had in mind.
"You stay here, and wait for me. You can help dealing with the ghosts, too. That way at least we'll be sure these particular fiends won't be the ones to ruin the party."
And Klaus disappeared. The hunter raised an eyebrow at the kid, and walked over to the twitching body. The head had almost finished reforming. It wasn't quite that yet, but...
"Looks like you've been ditched, kiddo. I suppose the Big Bad Wolf wanted to see Caroline without you hovering in the background."
Ric looked at his machete with appreciation. The blade hadn't even started to dull, despite being used to behead a bunch of monsters several times since the day before. He was almost certain it was Magdalena's. This woman had unusual tools – for a lawyer – in her suitcase.
Then again, he himself had unusual tools – for a teacher – in his apartment.
The kid was averting his eyes from the bodies. If he was a vampire, he had to be young, because rare were the vampires who flinched at the sight of blood. Damon usually said a fifth of them were named Stefan. Maybe the kid was a witch? After all, when Klaus had first come into town, it had been with his personal coven.
"I didn't know there were ghosts..."
Not a witch, then. They all knew about the Other Side, the Veil and what a supernatural being became after their death.
"They are the spirits of the supernatural beings who didn't pass on. Here, a lot of them hold a grudge, that's why they are a pain in the ass. Usually they can't manifest. But a powerful witch, with the right tools, and at the right time, can make them appear. Make them material. And since they are already dead, you have to keep on killing them to incapacitate them. That's what I'm doing right now. Making sure they don't go off and kill my friends, or innocent people."
The head was finally back into place, whole and ready to be cut off, again. Ric would have liked it if he had had the chance to do that with Connor Jordan, too, but the guy had been kind of too much blown to bits the first time around, so the three officers who knew about the supernatural other than the sheriff hadn't been able to get him here. The Original didn't like to think of the crazed hunter running around Mystic Falls, but what could he do?
Apparently he'd have to do with beheading Vaughn instead.
The other hunter opened his eyes suddenly, and bristled when he realized he couldn't move, chained up. Magdalena hadn't wanted to have to run after her prisoners, if they got revived without her noticing right away. Alaric could understand that.
"You! Let me go, right now! I have a mission to accomplish. The likes of you are all monsters, but Silas is the worst! It is my duty to rid the world of his being!"
Ric's face morphed into a frightening smile, too thin and too large to be honest.
"Not that I disagree about Silas being a monster, Vaughn, but we already took care of him. Now, you see, I don't like being called a monster, not any more than the average guy, at least, and I am already quite angry."
The Original put the edge of his machete on the hunter's neck, and crouched down a bit.
"You see, I've been resurrected a fair share of times. But I've also spent the last months on the Other Side, with the like of us monsters. And now I came back to life, and definitely, not like the rest of you material ghosts, one more time. But, try to understand. Even before being turned, I was a cursed man. A perfect killer, whether I wanted to be so or not. And being stuck in the Other Side..."
His smile disappeared, leaving his face cold and emotionless.
"It was infuriating. And at the same time, it felt like home."
Alaric stood up again, and raised the machete high above his head. There was no asking what for.
"And guess what, hunter of the Five? I miss home."
The blade sliced through air, and then through flesh. A head fell. The kid turned slightly green.
