My Bonnie is over the ocean.

She's about four feet away from me, give or take a centimetre. Wouldn't call it an ocean…

My Bonnie is over the sea.

There's a table between us, but that's about it. One mahogany table with a hand knitted tablecloth and a bowl of ruby red apples… Why do they have apples?

My Bonnie is over the ocean.

Not really. I can reach out and touch her. I can reach out and kiss her. And she'll kiss me back. Everything I want is in grabbing distance so what the fuck is my problem?

'Please bring back my Bonnie to me.'

And the song would end there, his mother would clap, he'd bang his fist over the piano keys… Those were the good ol' pre-Stefan days. The good ol' days when all you had to do to be a good boy was brush your teeth and keep your mud pies outside.

Damon twiddled his thumbs – actually twiddled them for maybe the first time in his life – because for perhaps the first time in his life he was absolutely shit out of ideas.

"You look dazed," she, Mannie, said. He was calling her 'Mannie' now – short for Magwyr-Bonnie Amalgamation. That, and because he was finding her attitude just a little mannish. "Somebody dazed you, Damon?"

Bonnie had dazed him. She'd dazed him good and proper with her little cerebral seduction, hallucinatory fuck. She'd dazed the shit out of him and a good fifteen minutes later he was still putting the pieces together. His Bonnie, the born martyr and designated sacrifice lamb, was once again stepping up to the batter's plate for the sake of her friends, him included, the goodly residents of Mystic Falls and by extension, the world. She'd effectively loaned her body out (long term) to a psycho killer blood whore… Maggie… and in return the psycho killer blood-whore was supposed to off Klaus… Right…

She, Mannie, rapped her knuckles on the table to get his attention, leaving a bloody stain on the cloth. "You're going to have to keep your shit tight, Damon."

Said the woman who was oozing blood from literally every orifice. She looked like a zombie. A hot zombie, but still… Mags, he'd always known, was bat-shit insane, but how could she just sit there and possess somebody? Why was she still bleeding? She kept sniffing red snot back up into her nostrils and blinking away bloody tears. She was bleeding from her scalp too somewhere, the ends of her hair dripping clots every now and then. Hot, but still…"My shit's always tight," he rebutted, trying to keep his face straight.

"'Cause you look sad," she pouted prettily. Almost the way Bonnie used to pout, but with more lust and killing intent behind it. "I thought you'd be happier – you're the one here who gets to benefit. The chastity belt is effectively done away with… It has been cast into the fires of Mount Doom, as Tolkien might say. The cunt is free at last for your perusing pleasure–"

"God, have mercy."

"What?" she guffawed. "We're all over eighteen, physically and or mentally speaking. Doesn't the issue at hand boil down to 'cocks' and 'cunts'? We're all old souls here. Besides blood, sex and magic, what else do we live for? What do our lives consist of, besides killing and fucking?"

"Well… I've started this Rosetta Stone thing recently. Brushing up on my Russian…" Wasn't killing Klaus the issue at hand?

And she's going to kill me too. So much for your master plan, Bon. This girl is going to go wild and no one's going to be able to stop her.

Mannie was going to kill him at some point in time. He could tell by the way she glared at him, newly red eyes venomous and glowing, glowing in a way that was slightly… evil. Then she smiled, toothily. Like a young, ethnic version of the witch in the Hansel and Gretel Storybook, right before she chocked Hansel into the oven – page 28. She sucked her teeth and frowned. "Damon," she drawled, "If you've got something to say..."

"How 'bout we ignore each other in blissful silence, cause I don't feel chatty at the moment."

"How 'bout no. See, I'm actually telepathic. Don't know how you forgot that one. I can here you wishing death on me. The true death, as if such a thing exists, and I can hear the confusion blossoming in your young, tender mind. So how 'bout we clear the air? The only tension I like is the sexual kind…"

"Well, right there." He took a swig of the beer in his hands. "That's my problem. You've taken my super cute, innocent dove, sunset girl and turned her into a slut."

"How is this slutty?" She gestured around the empty kitchen area. "Elijah's practically licking the blood out of that girl, Greta… That's slutty. Our dearest Katherine, brotherfucker to the bone… That's a slut.

"Compared to Bonnie, the quintessential virgin, everyone's a slut."

"And isn't that why you gave her my talisman?" she grinned. "Wasn't it to help… limber her up? Get the vaginal juices flowing?"

"I wanted you to have a miniscule influence." He grabbed a beer and knocked it around between his hands. Enjoying the slap of cold glass on his palms. Palms he'd had on Bonnie. "I wanted you to help me turn the tide in my favour. Not a full onslaught fucking possession, Mags!"

"Bonnie wouldn't piss on you to put out a fire."

That's what he used to think up until one very wet daydream fifteen minutes ago. It hadn't been real, and yet it had been the most real and the most significant event of his life for decades. He'd had a one on one encounter with the true Bonnie. The rainbow-and-butterflies Bonnie who used to exist way back in the good ol' days before he'd brought murder and mayhem to her doorstep. She'd come into his mind, or he'd gone into hers, and while there's been a paucity in confessions of undying endless love, there'd been some confessions and confirmations of other things. Respect. Admiration. Desire...

"She doesn't deserve you taking over her life."

"It's the only way to do this! I don't see why you're upset! You wanted Bonnie, I'm giving her to you, spread and willing. You want Klaus dead; we have his unconscious body in the next room–"

"We still have to deal with Greta–"

"Soon as Elijah's done defiling her body, I'm gonna teleport her to the moon."

"Hmm?"

"You heard me."

"Uh… No. Don't think I did."

"M-O-O-N, moon."

"You can do that?"

"Maybe she doesn't make it to the moon, but I'll settle for anything beyond the stratosphere. A hybrid lost in space for millennia has a certain appeal, don't you think? Do hybrids need oxygen?"

"No mercy for a fellow witch?"

"Mercy? Pass me a dictionary."

Bonnie needs mercy. She deserves it.

"I'm not doing anything to Bonnie. Bonnie's safe. She's not screaming for release in some virtual cage inside her cranium Damon. She'd crossed over to the other side and–"

"Other side?" As in the dead side?

"The other other side," she smirked, bobbing her head like a dashboard dog. "You think it's only you vampires who want to live forever? In this world, there are a thousand and one other sides. First and foremost, is the dead side. Then we witches have our 'magic' side. The humans have this side. Witches aren't human, Damon. When we die, we get pushed out from the human side, back to our side. And when we get frustrated on that side, we can come back. Where'd you think I'd been slumming it all this time?"

"So Bonnie's off in some magic realm? Some make-believe la-la land, and you expect me to be fine with that? Seriously? You know me, Mags? You honestly thought I'd be fine with this, all honky dory?"

"I expect you to understand the situation and accept it for what it is!" her red eyes flashed and a fresh red tear broke away, very distractingly, "I don't know who or what you think you're dealing with, but Klaus is not to be trifled with. At this very moment, when we're sitting pretty smelling this lovely apple fragrance, our dear boy Klaus, has found himself a witch to possess and he is on his way here. Travelling with him is another demon, Jaxxon. Recently summoned. While you and Bon Bon are having fantasy sex, Klaus has been summoning demons. He's miles away and I can feel him in my fucking pores. I'm not quite scared shitless, but that's just because Bonnie's young and her bowels are strong."

"Eww."

"Eww, indeed. I'm your only hope, and I don't say that to be arrogant. Fighting Klaus is going to take everything in me."

"And everything in me too?" he suspected out loud.

"That's the gist. I'll need your blood and Elijah's."

"Why? Bonnie had her epic bleed out all over the place. Why put more blood in? I don't think the effect–"

"That's collateral damage. There's an area in the human brain, responsible for magic. Normally that area has no blood supply, so it's dead in most people. Witches have a blood supply to that area, and the more we use that magic spot, the more blood we need. Same way you need more blood to your muscles when you run. The high blood pressure required ruptures a couple capillaries along the way, no biggie."

"She lost consciousness."

"No biggie. The measure of a witch's strength is in how much of herself she's willing to sacrifice. A witch in our village lost her eyesight when she was thirteen. Did a spell to help end a drought that would have crippled us. Never regretted it."

Damon swallowed another mouthful of beer and wished it was something way stronger. How had it come to this? Last week, Klaus had been a blip on the wall, a silly little nuisance. They'd gotten Stefan back, no harm done. He'd left them all in relative peace. He hadn't gone after Elena. He hadn't gone after Bonnie either… And yet, the world was coming to an end.

Why?

Deep down, he knew there were reasons why Klaus had to be killed – dude was a villain – but couldn't they have pushed it to the back burner a little? He'd been on the Kill Klaus brigade since day one, but that was back then when the sun rose and set with the bat of Elena's eyes and the flutter of her hair in the evening wind. Back then when he'd been willing to sacrifice anyone and everyone, if it meant he'd have Elena's appreciation for a nanosecond, if it meant a chance for her to develop a smidgen of affection.

He pushed the chair back, stood and picked out one of the hardiest knives in the rack. He had a disembowelling to set up. "Mags…" he started before he had the rest of the sentence prepared. "Bonnie belongs to me–"

"Wrong era, boy. Emily belonged to you–"

"You know what I mean. This body you're in right now," he leaned in close to her until they were inches apart, just for emphasis, "Mine. Got it?"

She licked her lips, her ruby red, bloody lips, with her cute baby tongue. "I can do submissive, Damon."

He brought the tip of the knife to her throat. "I want you to do monogamous. Obedient. Decent," he jabbed the point of the knife in a little deeper until he drew a drop of blood. "Because as much as I love Bonnie, I'd rather kill her and jack off to her shrine, than witness this… infestation."

"You need me."

"Not really. Comes down to killing Klaus or keeping Bonnie, then I say fuck. Let Klaus do whatever the fuck he wants–"

"You imagine Klaus letting the two of you live to ripe old age back in the boarding house? Sorry about burning it down by the way… but that was Bonnie. If you didn't notice, Klaus has a big ol' soft spot for witches. Used to collect them back in the day. Him and Elijah…"

"I know. That's why this knife isn't in your windpipe, Magwyr. I'm going to go cut the guts out of Klaus, then you do your mumbo jumbo and summon the items–"

"No need, Klaus is bringing them with him."

"All the better," he said even though he was sure his face was going crazy. "You do your mumbo jumbo, summon whatever demon or demon-slayer you need, kill Klaus, then you get to fuck out of my girl. You don't need to go back to the grave, but you need to get to fuck outta, Bonnie. Feel me?"

"Yes Damon, you and the stainless steel blade at my jugular," she said with a smile.

"Good," he pulled away. "Now when you say guts, what do you mean exactly? Colon, small intestines?"

These guys… Klaus mused as he passed through the lobby humming the catchy tune blasting from the battery powered handheld radio.

But tell me, did the wind sweep you off your feet?
Did you finally get the chance
To dance along the light of day
And head back toward the Milky Way?

But tell me, did you sail across the sun?
Did you make it to the Milky Way
To see the lights all faded
And that heaven is overrated?

Train. Those beautiful guys… He'd never gotten down to watching one of their music videos, so he really didn't have any idea what they'd look like, but he imagined they'd be beautiful people. Blond hair blowing in the wind, blue eyes twinkling in the sunlight, lips like peaches, cheeks like cherubs… with unicorns eating out of their hands.

How could some random, mortal, rotting piece of flesh humans guess at what it would feel like to find heaven overrated? Whoever their songwriter was, he had to be an angel, or a monk, or a hybrid. Only angels (disgruntled, soon-to-be-fallen ones), monks (blind ones ) and hybrids had the audacity to be that nigh blasphemic.

Not that he disagreed. There'd been some disappointments to be honest, and he had danced along the light of day, parasailed along the Milky May and spelunked into the heart of the sun… metaphorically speaking, even though he half felt that spelunking into the heart of the sun might be something to put on his to do list. After all, was there a point in being immune to fire if he didn't play with it a bit? As soon as they started having public access rockets, he'd do that. He'd bum a ride out into space and free fall into the belly of that golden beast–

Maddox froze with one foot inside the elevator, an expression on his face that read 'Bitch, you gonna die… Nice knowing ya.' "I'll catch up to you," he mumbled, as he stepped back.

"What is it?" Klaus asked, because he had to, as if he had to. He'd been expecting Maddox to step down… If he were Maddox, he'd have done the same. It was only logical. When a man chooses to walk into an open death trap, only retards follow. And Maddy wasn't no retard.

Of course he knew the Killer Witch was waiting for him as soon as he reached the top floor. He wasn't born yesterday. Neither the day before yesterday. His spidey senses had never been sharper. He patted the bag pack on his back. "Come on, let's just meet up with Greta and get rid of these accursed items. Maybe we can borrow your cauldron and melt them down…"

"It's just a regular pot."

"It's a black pot."

"Do pots come in any other colour?"

"They've the enamel ones."

Maddox took another step back, a flicker of fear in his eyes, "I forgot my phone in the car."

"Want me to help you look? Four eyes are better than two, even though this one's not pushing 20/20…"

"It's okay," Maddox licked his lips, nervously. "I'm right behind you."

"That's what she said."

"Eh… Yeah… Want me to hold on to that bag for you?"

"I got it."

"Right."

And the cheese stands alone. Klaus hit 32 on the elevator as the doors began to slide shut between him and the man that used to be almost his friend. "See you around, fellow. Pip pip, and cheerio."

The elevator moved slowly, or swiftly, (depends) up to the last floor. One, two, three, four… the light flashed as he moved up and up, closer and closer, deeper and deeper into the trap they'd set.

"A master piece of a trap, really," a man said from the corner of the elevator in a British accent that was even more British than his own. A man he hadn't seen before – a previously invisible man. About five feet and a half, a little grey in the beard. A ponytail… Wearing a tweed suit… and suspenders. What Sherlock Holmes would look like if he were real and free-lanced as stuntman. A wiry, springy sense of coiled strength seemed to radiate from under the tweedy scarf. His face was young, with sculptured cheek bones and babyish, pink cheeks. Green eyes like crystallised ocean...

"Jaxxon, I presume."

"Niklaus."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Likewise." They shook hands.

"I've heard a lot about you," the demon said, as he stood, one arm at his side and the other in his pocket fingering a gold watch-piece no doubt, or a set of brass knuckles, or a monocle."Thought you were a guy, though."

"Most days I am."

"Oh."

"And that thing about you being a cocksucker…"

Hmm? What now? "What thing?"

"There was a thing about three hundred and sixty-two years ago."

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"It's completely unfounded. She was an hermaphrodite."

"He was an hermaphrodite." The demon shifted, then took out a notepad from his shirt jack, and began flipping through pages. "Alrighty then…" he said as he settled on a scribbled over page. "How would you describe yourself, Niklaus? Homosexual, heterosexual, transsexual, post-up, pre- op–"

"I'm confused…"

"Obviously."

"No." Klaus forced a grin and a deep breath. In and out. In and out. Good boys don't scream and shout. "I'm confused as to your purpose. I summoned you a while ago… What took you? Lost track of time out on the moors?"

Jaxxon fixed his coat. "Didn't mean to offend the young master, apologies."

Personality number two. Interesting. "Young master?"

"You're very young sir, but I mean no disrespect by it. You've earned my sworn allegiance for the next thousand years, you may reprimand any insolence as you see fit."

That's what she said.

Stop it.

Jaxxon, the killer demon. The wickedest thing to walk the earth… Sweet virgin Bonnie and her after-school, crime-fighting brady bunch wouldn't know what hit them. "Too early in the day for reprimands, I say, but maybe you can help me out with something. You're aware that I'm walking into a trap?"

"Yes."

"What kind of trap?"

"You don't know?"

"The clairvoyance is acting up a bit. All I have is a twitch in the guts and a healthy dose of foreboding."

"I thought you were all powerful," Jaxxon frowned, then jutted something down in his notes.

"I wouldn't say all powerful. Exponentially powerful, maybe–"

"Magwyr. Short of a miracle, she's going to kill you."

There had to be more to it than Magwyr. He'd dealt with her reincarnations before. He even had his own pet reincarnation down in the basement, little sixteen year old Anastasia…

"Statutory–"

"Shut up. Doesn't count if she's a witch."

"You'll tell the coppers that?"

"Shut up."

"And the girlfriend wouldn't take too kindly to that either, I'd imagine."

"What girlfriend?"

"The one who had the period a while back, and you–"

"Shut up!" Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen… Klaus sucked his teeth. Something he hadn't done since…"Fucking voyeur."

Unoffended, Jaxxon beamed. "Not much else to do on the Demon Side beside voyeurism and self-gratification. You're a right ol' kinky bastard, ain't ya? We like watching you. You and Damon Salvatore are the only things good on TV these days."

"Damon Salvatore? You're comparing me to that… miscreant?"

"You're very similar."

"How so?"

"You've both fucked Katherine, for starters," the demon counted 'one' on his fingers.

"Who hasn't? She gets around and she's a good lay."

"That was just for starters. Second… You both have a penchant for witch-fucking." He added a finger to the tally.

Who doesn't? "And?"

"You're both in this conundrum by virtue of being pussy whipped." Three fingers.

"Excuse me?"

"Sir, you are aware that at any point you can get off this elevator and go back down? You can disappear to some one of your hundred other hideouts and lay low until this blows over in a decade or two. Hawaii, perhaps… Soak in some sun?"

"I don't run away from my enemies."

"You used to. You're a fucking Olympian when it comes to running away from your enemies," he said with a patronizing look, "Except this time you're all 'leave no twat behind.'

Klaus tried to turn away from the man, but the elevator was too small. "You're incredibly rude, for a man in tweed."

"Perhaps, young master, save consider that I be a demon in tweed."

"Either way, you're rude."

"And you're very… Charming and mannerly."

"And that shocks you? You're opposed to charm?"

"It's only I expected different," the demon said sighing deeply, "You're supposed to be completely… deranged. Insane with bloodlust and… just general lust. Remember when you compelled that guy into becoming a literal motherfucker… yeah, I was expecting more of that and less of this… Jude Law routine. God bless his beautiful heart, Jude Law. Hope he dies and comes to hell before he loses anymore of his hair. Handsome bugger."

"When you say hell…"

"Do I mean the big Hot Toasty down below? No. We Horned Ones have our own Side. DemonSide. With air conditioning. It's rather frigid, in fact. They don't let us handle the remote you see, and the–"

"Horned Ones? Show me your horns."

"I've only got one…" he started undoing his belt.

"Never mind." Klaus closed his eyes.

"You're rather prudish, as well. For a bloke who compelled a man into becoming a literal motherfucker… Angus Jones… He never recovered after that, you know. Became a serial killer, poor chap."

Angus? "Don't really remember that."

"I've got it on DVD. I'll send you a download link sometime."

"DVD of what? The compelling, the serial killing or the motherfucking?"

"The full nineteen yards. And then some."

"Well, that nice. Maybe if I survive this thing with Magwyr, I'll have a look."

"Indeed."

Demons don't hear sarcasm? Nineteen, twenty… Is the elevator this slow usually? Or is he slowing it down?

"Of course I'm slowing it down. I'm slowing everything down. Space… time… I thought we should have a moment to get to know one another…"

"Well, good on you, but if you don't mind… I've got a showdown to get to." Can he hear my thoughts? You cockless fucker, can you here my thoughts?

"So… yeah…" he looked down at his shoes. "It's a demon thing. It helps with the whole 'lure you into temptation' bit. But anyhow… how 'bout we jump ship? I'm your genie in a bottle, love. Say the word and we're on a Bahamian beach intoxicating ourselves with every liquor known to man. Then we can find a well lit room and fuck each other senseless–"

"…" Klaus press the #32 button again in an attempt – a futile attempt – to get the elevator to move faster. He could have ran up the stairs faster. Even in Lucinda's asthma riddled, so not athletic body. "You're a bit sex obsessed, ain't you mate?"

"It's a demon thing, sweetheart."

A surreal feeling of déjà vu washed over him. Do I sound like this? At any point in time have I ever sounded like this? "For the record," he put his hands to his breasts, "this is a rental."

"I know. Insurance will cover the damages."

"Damages… Yeah, ummm…As much as I love a good demonic banging, how about we not go there, huh? How about we keep this master servant thing strictly business and–"

"That's not the deal Greta got," the demon pouted. "And you have to be fair, sir. 'Equal opportunity' and all that jazz… Now's actually the most convenient time for both of us, while you still have a slit, I mean. Not that I'm not willing to go anal when you get that body back. The male version does possess a sort of lithe grace and feline agility–"

Klaus vomited a little in his throat, but he supressed it. Swallowed it. "Not gonna happen."

"Well, we can do the whole condom thing if you want. Don't quite see the need… In fact, I've been meaning to ask about that as well. What's with the condoms, love?"

"Jax? Drop it, yeah?"

"Come on! I've been known to give a mean blow back in the day."

"No."

"Handy?"

"No."

"I get it. You want to be the one to give… The old withhold the orgasm trick–"

"No."

"We can try role-play. I can do catholic schoolgirl– No, we'll be two catholic school girls who forgot to wear panties one day–"

Klaus' stomach heaved again and there was no suppressing or swallowing to be had. The rest of the emo meat spread out chunkily across the elevator floor. "Happy?" he snarled wiping his face with the back of his hand. "Frank evidence of how utterly disgusting you are. Happy?"

"Kind of. Demon thing."

Twenty. Still. "Can we get this fucking thing moving?"

"In a hurry to die?"

"Can't die."

"Really?" Jaxxon thumped the bagpack on his back. "You're delivering everything she needs to resurrect Geraldine. And without a doubt, Geraldine will kill you."

"How do you know? Has she much experience killing hybrids? She won't know what to do with me."

"Really? Cause your puppy love Maddox just ditched out on you. Tucked his tail between his legs and scampered. Handsome bugger, that Maddox… A well endowed bloke if ever…"

"Maddox is a paid associate. He's paid per spell. Free to come and go as he chooses."

"And the coochie mama… You pay her in what exactly? Fluid ounces of cum?"

"Clever… but none of your business, really."

"I'm just trying to understand, sir, what manner of man I've indentured myself to. You and Damon… I care so much because I don't understand. Damon, I get a little. Bonnie at least, is abominably cute. Asymmetric, but cute. Greta's kinda… not cute. It's kinda twisted, really. You more or less kidnapped her, brainwashed her into being your lapdog concubine… concubine lapdog… How do you feel about bestiality, Niklaus?" he drawled out the question with a most official air about him…

"Can we get this elevator moving? Destiny awaiting and all that?"

"Destiny? Fuck destiny in the face. This is bonding time. Twenty question time. Number one–"

"Fine. Twenty questions and the elevator goes again?"

"Agreed. One – Yes or no. Bestiality? Zoophilia?"

"No."

"What if you turn into a wolf and it's mating season?"

"Doesn't work like that."

"Imagine – it's the height of mating season and you find yourself surrounded by a pack of female wolves that need you to fuck them in order to keep the species alive?"

"The species will survive just fine without my input."

"What about you in wolf form with a human, say Greta…"

"The position wouldn't work for anyone."

"So you've thought about it… how'd I miss that? It was a dream, was it? I skipped a couple of your dreams. Demon thing – we don't like dreams."

"Noted. That it?"

"No. How do you feel about Catholic–"

"No."

"Bondage–"

"No."

"Frotteurism?"

"Only around full moon."

"Paedo–"

"Fifteen and up."

"Masochism?"

"With a witch, sure."

"Sadism?"

"With a witch, sure. Not going to happen with you, Jax. Not in this body, not in my body, not in this century, not in any century. I don't do frank homosexual–"

"Excepting that guy you sucked off."

"She was an hermaphrodite. Can we get the elevator moving?"

21 flashed, then 22, 23. "Fine. Off to rescue the coochie mama it is. You do know she's dead, though?"

Five minutes and he was already regretting not siding with Greta on not summoning Jaxxon. Insufferable didn't cover it. "By the way, Jaxxon, demon, any word of advice? Any helpful and relevant suggestions as to how best I should deal with Magwyr?"

"Fuck her?"

"That's all you got?"

"Might want to do it bondage style, just to be safe."

"And Geraldine, the demon slayer? I fuck her too? That's all you got for me? After everything I sacrificed?

"What the fuck did you sacrifice? People you hate? Sacrifices work best when you're actually sacrificing something. Slitting open the village vagabond doesn't count for much."

"It still worked."

"Meh," Jaxxon shrugged. "I was bored, felt like coming anyway. And seeing as you're about to die shortly… I'm more or less free to roam the human side for at least the next nine hundred and ninety nine years."

"If you're not going to help me, then fuck off. Go get buggered or banished or whatever."

"Who pissed in your cuppa tea, lady guv'nor?"

What?

Thirty.

Thirty-one.

Thirty two.

Nice. Traitors to kill, and he was sick to his stomach all over again. "Was your sole purpose to get me distracted? Make me lose my cool?" the elevator bell dinged, the doors opened and once again he was alone in the four foot space. "If you're not going to help, why bother?" he muttered under his breath, working up the courage to go and either get killed or kill them all.

Over the back mirror panel, written in lipstick, (creepily) :

It's a demon thing.

AN: Credit where it's due – The idea for the DemonSide I kinda took from Death Note (if you still haven't read it, check it out cause it's crazy cool). Sorry for the really long absence, but I'm kinda hard up cause I can't ditch call days and I have 18hr days with a 2hr drive (if you don't know what an 'on call' day is, enjoy your sweet innocent life – I envy you immensely and want to live in your skin – joke.) This is my one weekend for a while. Should finish this up in the two weeks off that I get for Christmas. So check back around then. Sorry.

The language got a little obscene this chap, but I just wanted to add a little justification for the rated M tag I attached. I'm still considering if to fluff out the Bamon or keep it straight. Bamon fluff has a sort of innocent appeal, but I think I'm too far in to add more fluff now. IDK, we'll see. Also, I wanted to get a flavouring for the whole demon-demon slayer thing, cause I haven't put as much development into those guys.

I actually stopped watching TVD, just so that I don't get incepted with one of the canon ideas. I want to keep this strictly split off from the end of S2, so any references made to Micheal or Becks or Gloria will just be in passing mostly. When I saw that episode where they were all "the necklace belonged to the original witch. It's her talisman" I was all, GTFO! At least I didn't call Mags the original witch. (Which I don't really get – were there no witches before the original witch or do they call her that just because of her association with the originals as in 'the originals' witch) Next thing, I kinda stopped reading other fics too, just not to get incepted. There are some really good Steffonie and Klonnie hits out there… don't know why I like all the bonnie based fan fics… maybe because she gets so little screentime and has the most room for creative expansion? My fav characters on this are Bonnie, Alaric and Tyler… The less screentime you get, the more I love you. Kinda hating Damon a little bit this season.

Longest AN note, ever? Sorry, just wanted to give you guys a heads up. Next thing – please anybody who reads this – review it please. I kinda want to reach a hundred reviews. Mad thanks and crazy love to everyone who did and to my peeps who put this in their favourite story list!