AN: Point to make about this story is that there will be no magical or enchanted talking furniture. Sorry to disappoint anyone who may be looking forward to that. Thanks for reading and reviewing my last chapter. Keep it coming.

Chapter 4

A sleepless night and followed by swollen eyes from countless hours of crying had finally left Elena exhausted. She rubbed her face and sat up on the bed.

Daylight was beginning to shine through the dusty curtains and she hated how depressing the room was. If she was going to be held here against her will, then at least she could do was make it feel like she belonged.

Rising from the bed, she went over to the curtains and pushed them open. The separation of the old cloth created a dust storm and she choked and coughed from it. She waved her hand in front of her face trying to shoe away the dust particles. The sun was almost over the horizon and it was the first warming sight she had seen since the day before.

The woods were thick and went on for miles. Somewhere out there Alaric was either still struggling to make his way home or he was a victim of night. She hoped and prayed he escaped without any more damage already done. She hoped he would arrive home and seek help for her rescue, but she knew it wasn't likely. Alaric's status with the community wasn't on good terms. He was thought of as crazy. Him relaying the information back that she was trapped in a towering mansion with a beast for a man would only confirm their beliefs.

A tear fell down her cheek staining it even more. She needed to wash away her sorrow and begin her new life as a prisoner. She had to make the best of it.

The light had brought the unused room to life. Finally she could see the cell she was residing in and she was grateful for not being locked up in the dungeons. The bed was tall and wide. Four posts rose from the ground and a canopy hung above. An armoire was positioned on the right side of the room and two chairs on the other. It was a rather large room, but it fit with the house. She wondered what it was like when it was lively and bright. Someone besides the man had must lived here before the destruction had taken place.

Elena found a door that led to a small bathroom and was relieved when the faucet worked. She splashed the cold water upon her face until she felt normal again.

Still exhausted, she did not want to sleep. She wanted to explore. This wing was hers and she felt it was her right to understand her surroundings.

The door creaked open and she peaked out to see if the man that roamed this home was in sight. He was nowhere to be found, but she suspected he wasn't far. Carefully, she tip toed out and close the door behind her. It was dark for daytime in the hall and it made everything so eerie. More covered windows lined the walls and she took it to her responsibility to open them. Dust scattered everywhere causing another coughing spree. However, it was well worth it.

Paintings of people and meadows and all sorts of sceneries hung on the wall. The eyes of the painted watched her no matter where she stepped. She tried to avoid gazing at them for too long.

Doors to other various rooms were visible and she rattled the knobs finding them only to be more unused, dirty bedrooms much like hers.

Elena sighed as she closed the last door to the room in her wing. This was all too strange. Her limitations to where she could roam freely were puzzling. What was in the west wing that was so forbidden for her to see? It was only a few steps in front of her. It was darker than the rest of the house, almost like it was black hole. Broken chairs and a faint stench of something rotting came from the wing. Something inside of her was telling her to go even though know she wasn't allowed.

No sight or sound of the beast that lurked in these walls and so she took that as her sign to explore. The closer she got to the west wing she noticed it wasn't just battleground of broken objects it was deliberately blocked. A sort of barricade was made at the entrance to the wing with chairs and as she peered down the hall she saw more scattered pieces of furniture making it difficult for one to walk through.

Something very secret and sacred was at the end of the hall, she knew it. She felt it in her gut and now she wanted more than ever to discover what it was. But as she placed her hand on the torn fabric of one of the chairs she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

"I told you the west wing is forbidden." He growled in a low tone.

Slowly and cautiously, she turned around to face him.

No red pulsing eyes. No sharp teeth ready to bite. No deformed qualities were masked upon his face. In fact, he looked…human. Elena let her jaw hang open as she tried to study the oddity of how normal he appeared before her. His eyes still glowed, but not in a menacing way. His cheeks were hollow and stubble grew on his face.

"I will throw you into the dungeons if you can't follow orders." The man taunted her with an unthinkable idea. She took in a deep breath and tried to not let fear set in.

"What's in the west wing?" Elena asked curiously.

His chest grew and he was hovering over her. She tried to hide her fright. "That is none of your business. You are a prisoner in my house. You obey my rules! Got it?" He shouted.

"Yes." Faintly her voice was heard.

The man pushed out his lower jaw eyeing her and then dramatically turned. He was hunched over as he walked away and down the staircase to the entrance hallway. Elena felt a sudden urge to go after him. She had questions, so many of them.

"I saw what you did to him, to Alaric. That's the name of the man you captured." She shouted from the top of the stairs. He stopped on the platform that met halfway between the set of wide stairs.

"Then you know what I'm capable of." He uttered still turned away.

"Then why haven't you done the same to me? Aren't I your prisoner?" Her question was foolish, but she had to know. The blood oozing from Alaric like he had been ripped open and the blood that dripped from the man's mouth made her wonder what sort of method he pursued when attacking. Those pointy, sharp teeth in his mouth were surely his weapons of choice. Only a monster could possess such terror.

"You." His voice echoed throughout the entire place as he stomped his way up to her. Scared and feeling the need to flee, Elena remained still. She did not move, but flinched as he drew near to her face. His hot breath melted on her skin. "You want me to give you the same fate as your friend? You are more foolish than I thought."

"I just don't understand why if you are so keen on attacking the innocent, why I haven't been a victim yet of your disaster?" Elena spoke stuttering and licking her dry lips.

"You ask too many questions." He barked.

There was no answer. He could not tell her why she hadn't been torn apart and shed of her precious blood. She was left unmarked in a mansion haunted by a monstrous man and yet he was capable of doing great, terrorizing things. Something did not add up.

Was it her wandering mind that led her to all these observations and questions? Years of studying different genres and books, she had knack for the details in life.

"Stay out of the west wing. I mean it!" The man howled and leaned forward only inches from her face. "Or you will become just like your friend, alone and dying."

He took a step down and in that moment light breaking through a small tear in the curtains brought him to life. He was almost…beautiful. Elena, shocked and amazed by the sight gulped loudly. Small lines scarred his face and his eyes were a sky blue. He had changed from the night before. No blood stained his clothing, but it was still tattered. A white dress shirt buttoned almost to the top and black pants that were ripped and shredded at the bottom were his choice of clothing. His feet were bare and the veins in arms popped.

"What are you staring at?!" He screamed.

Holding her hands to her chest, Elena tilted her head to side still gazing at him. "What is your name?" She asked completely oblivious to his outraged nature.

Appalled and seeming as if he were struck with a hard-hitting question, he lowered his shoulders and his voice. "Damon."

"Damon." She repeated it to herself. "I'm Elena."

"Well, Elena, if you wish to live to a somewhat pleasant time here you need to control your curiosity." The man named Damon warned.

Abruptly, he dashed down the stairs and was out of sight. Exhaustion was taking over her and after her run in with him; she knew she needed to rest. Making her way back to her room, she locked the door and crawled under the layers of blankets.

The beast that she had met only 24 hours ago was frightening and intimidating, but the man that she saw under the mask of terror was there subtly. She sensed he wasn't always like this and with that her imagination ran wild.