Undo these chains, my friend,

I'll show you the rage I've hidden.

Perish the Sacrament,

swallow, but nothing's forgiven.

You and I can't decide

which of us was taken for granted.

Make amends,

some of us are destined to be outlived.

The Devil and I — Slipknot

Verónika was on her knees by her sister's cold body. She admired the morbid shade of purple that began to paint her lips, and her eyes wide open as she stared at the empty, the trail of tears finally drying out against her cracked skin.

She was surprised to notice her own heart beating steadily inside her chest, since she half-expected she would be a little more affected by her sister's death. No, it wasn't just death. She was murdered. Verónika murdered her and her unborn nephew. And she was calm. There was a warm buzz under her skin unlike anything she'd felt before. It was empowering, intoxicating. For a moment, she wished Eirene would come back to life only to do it again. She loved the feeling. She wanted more.

A breeze entered the tent and blew a strand of hair over Eirene's face, and Verónika, in a gesture of kindness she'd never done to her sister in life, softly pulled it to the back of her ear. "Thank you."

"Verónika…" She stared at her sister's face for a long moment before realizing the voice wasn't hers. Looking up, she noticed the tent open, her brother Silvanus standing there, jaw clenched as he stared at Eirene's body with shock. "What have you done?"

As if popping her bubble of ecstasy, Verónika's hand began to shake as she struggled to breathe. If felt just like that time she was drowning in the river, dragged by the merciless current, thrown against rocks, slapped in the face by the ice cold waters. Verónika looked down at her sister's body, the prominent bump on her stomach, her empty brown eyes, and her half open mouth.

She fell on her arse, and slipped a few meters back from the body. But Verónika didn't feel inherently bad because of her sister's death, or her nephew. She was in shock because of the bubbling sensation beneath her skin. "Silvanus," she stared at her hands in fear. "What's happening to me?"

"To you?" He whispered. His face fell as he kneeled by Eirene's body and touched her neck. "What did you do to our sister?"

"Nothing!" She bursted out, ignoring Silvanus' glare. It wasn't like Verónika to yell at him, let alone show anger. She stood up fast and walked to the other side of the tent, rolling the sleeves of her dress up to calm the heat she felt creeping up her arms, making her insides feel as if she was being boiled alive in a cauldron. "I didn't do anything, I-I just touched her!" She pointed an accusing finger at the dead body. "She tried to kill me!"

"So you murdered her?" Silvanus's green eyes crystalized as he touched Eirene's bump. "She was with child!"

Verónika's face was turning red as she let go tears of rage. "Don't you think I noticed? What else was I supposed to do?" She scratched her arms angrily. "Gods, it burns!"

Silvanus stood on his feet and walked big steps towards his crazed sister, grabbing her by the arms and trying to shake her back to reason. "What is wrong with you?" He yelled at her face.

Verónika's eyebrows wrinkled as his brother towered over her and painfully squeezed her shoulders, her fingers buzzed and she felt extreme anger, fear, sadness, all at once, enhanced by the thousands. "Don't touch me!" She cried out, pushing his chest with her hands.

Now, Verónika wasn't known for her physical strength. Sure, she could run like a wild cat, and climb trees like a squirrel, but she wasn't the strongest girl of her age, so she gasped when Silvanus flew several feet in the air, landing somewhere outside the tent. She heard something loud landing, something crack, and then silence once again.

One beat, two beats. Silvanus was nowhere to be heard or seen. "Brother?" She muttered as she stood alone in the middle of her messed up tent. Her eyes burned as she blinked away the tears, trying to clear up her blurred vision. "Silvanus?" She tried again in a broken voice.

Silently, she stepped outside —careful not to trip on her dead sister's feet. And found her brother laying by a tree, his neck bent in an awkward position. And there was that feeling again. The water, cold and sharp as knifes, hitting her face, the air leaving her lungs until she felt lightheaded. Unadulterated fear, running through her veins. And everything was heightened.

She fell to her knees, blinding pain quickly shooting up her legs. She managed to drag herself towards his body. "No, no… Not you."

His eyes were closed, but she knew he wasn't alive. There was a beat in everything around her, the ground, the trees, even far in the distance she could feel the buzz of life emanating from the unknowing partygoers. Her own beating heart was loud in her ears, but his body was silent. She knew it, because it was just like the dead venison she hunted so often. Just like her sister's body.

She weeped silently. It didn't felt as if she could mutter much noise, anyway. Her throat was closed, and her chest burned. Verónika was drowning. Even the air that entered her chest felt like too much to handle. She cradled Silvanus' head and put it over her lap as she cried against his neck, grasping his clothes for dear life. "Not you," she repeated in whispers so soft they could've very well been just the sound of the wind. "Come back, come back, come back…"

She snuffled, grabbing his face between both of her shaking hands. "You're not leaving me." She demanded. "You can't, I won't let you." She rested her forehead against his as she cried.

Funnily enough, she began to feel dizzy. She kept drowning. She was trapped in the current, no way to be saved from her imminent faith. She remembered Silvanus pulling her away from the waters. She remembered him pushing his air back into her lungs. She remembers coughing out water, she remembered him smiling. Verónika remembered that winter sunset when he'd pulled her back from the death. She wanted to do the same for him, but she felt herself wearing out. Burning hot in her hands. Pain inside her head, like her insides were about to explode like greek-fire.

She smiled. She figured death was coming to get her, and she would welcome it with open arms if it meant seeing her brother again. She was seeing black spots all around her, the fire in her hands dying out. Something moved underneath her arms.

Something grabbed her hands. "Verónika." She though she'd heard her brother's voice. She tried to tell him she was coming, that she was sorry, but her throat was sore. She coughed out. "Verónika!"

She opened and closed her eyes. Between blinks of darkness and light, she thought she saw Silvanus' worried face once more. "I'm sorry." She managed to say. "I didn't mean to kill you." She muttered before things went dark around her. She drowned.

"Veronica." She was dizzy still. Veronica felt herself floating in nothingness, carried like a leaf in the wind. Weightless, to the mercy of the currents. Water. She was drowning. Silvanus. He was dead. "Veronica, you can wake now."

She felt herself being shuffled in the air and opened her eyes slowly. She was blinded by the sunlight and blinked. Someone laughed. She recognized that laugh, she'll recognize it anywhere. Her brother's face became clear and she looked up. He was carrying her like the catch of the day in his arms. "No, you're dead!" She whimpered, looking around her in confusion.

She struggled in his arms until he dropped her on the ground. "Alright, you need to get it together now." He said, but his voice was different. Veronica saw the man with curly hair one more time looking down at her with an unimpressed look. A few seconds passed and he crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. "Back to the land of the sane, now?"

"What happened?" She asked, sitting on the ground that she found to be soft and grainy.

"You passed out, little sister." He leaned close to her and extended his arm. She reluctantly allowed him to help her up, but quickly found that her knees were too weakened to hold her own weight. Her brother held her close to his chest until she regained balance. "But that's understandable, after putting a locator spell on the doppelgänger before letting her run off with my cure." He said through his teeth, clearly not amusing.

She pushed herself away from him. "Right, because letting whoever finds you get the Cure as well. You don't hand the enemy the bow as well as the arrows, one can't do much without the other. Trust me, it's safe where it is."

Her brother —in the face of another man— raised an eyebrow. "And how do you know that?"

"The woman who looks like… The doppelgänger, that's what you called her, she has no intentions of using it on herself. She wants it for something else. Not sure what for, but she won't use it. And she seems to be good at hiding." She explained, rubbing her hands on her arms to warm herself up.

Silvanus huffed. "You better hope your spell works. I'll need that Cure eventually…" He sighed. "But for now, you need to feed. You look like death."

"How nice." She scoffed. "But I don't see food anywhere near, so…"

He walked a few steps in front of her and guided her near the beach. "Then you need to look closer."

Puzzled by his words, Veronica walked right behind him. Her bare feet skipping through the ground like she was used to. When they neared the water, she saw a man laying on the floor. A man that looked exactly like her brother. Well, not really. Veronica deduced he was the man Silvanus' decided to look like. As if sensing her curiosity, her brother grabbed the man by the neck and pulled him closer to his face. "Our friend right here is Atticus. He's one of the many responsible for our current state of freedom. Say thank you, it's the polite thing to do." He smiled. Atticus groaned, barely keeping himself unconscious

"And you're wasting magic to look like him because?" She asked, not impressed by his choice of skin.

Silvanus clicked his tongue. "Convenience. Not to worry, I won't do so much longer, it's just that keeping a low profile is a big part of my plan. Our plan." He emphasized. "But I'm afraid this is as far as he goes." He dug into Atticus' pocket and pulled out a intricate hunting knife. Atticus whimpered. "Shh, I'm sure it'll be a huge honor for any member of the Cult of Silas to die like…"

Veronica put a hand up. "Cult of Silas? You're joking."

"That's what they call me now. I don't know, it kind of has a nice ring to it, don't you think?" He half smiled.

"Don't let it get to your head." Veronica rolled her eyes mockingly, but there was a question buzzing in her head. She kneeled next to the man and grabbed him by the cheeks. He was dizzied, borderline dead. "Do you know who I am?" She waited for a minute, her gaze frozen in his frightened brown eyes, but there was no recognition on his face. He shook his head to confirm it, too. "Do they know about a girl named Verónika at the infamous Cult of Silas." Again, she waited, and the answer was the same.

Veronica clenched her jaw. "She kept to her word." Silvanus —Silas, said. "Two thousand years, if you know who can hold a grudge that long…"

"She erased my existence." Veronica muttered bitterly. "Two thousand years, you have a Cult, and I never existed."

When Veronica's eyes glowed red, Silas pulled her away from Atticus. "Now, she might've done us a favor."

"Did she, now?"

Silas nodded, trying to ease her rage. "They know about Silas, the Immortal, but they have no idea what's coming to them. They don't know the threat you posed to Qetsiyah. But they will…" He cupped his sister's face. "And they will fear you." Veronica's eyes turned back to their usual brown and her brother sighed. She blinked a couple times and breathed difficultly. "You're famished." He walked towards Atticus and brought the knife to his neck. "Look, I know this might sound awful to you, but the only thing that will calm your hunger now is blood. You need to be strong for me, okay? I will…"

Before he could finish the sentence and cut Atticus' carotid for his sister to drink from, she threw herself at the man's neck and sank her teeth deep into his flesh, drinking the warm blood that pooled inside her mouth like it was sweet wine during dinner. Atticus gasped, trying to hold onto his life until his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he went limp in her arms.

Beside her, Silas smiled wickedly. "That's my sister."

She drank as he ordered. For the first time in her life, she felt like the ultimate predator. She remembered the time in her life where she was used to being the scapegoat, the pariah, and how hunting down easy preys gave a sense of purpose. Now, drinking a man's blood straight from his veins and feeling his very essence fill her veins, give her energy she didn't know she possessed, she felt at the top of the world.

She felt invincible.

But as much as she loved the taste of his blood, Veronica wanted something else.

She waited until his heartbeat was almost inexistent, and she whispered in his ear. "Tell them I'm coming. You've earned the honor."

And she dropped his head back down.

Silas watched in silence as his sister let Atticus limp body on the ground and stood up. Her chin was stained in fresh blood and she looked more alive. Her skin was back to its usual tint, and her eyes were more alert. He mentally took note to be more careful with his magic, since he knew how relentless she could be. He needed to watch his words if he wanted her to help him. "Feeling better?" He asked.

Veronica stared down at the strange clothes on his borrowed image and down at her own bloodied dress. "I'm feeling a little overdressed."

He chuckled, gesturing with his head for her to follow him. "We'll find you appropriate clothes. Right now, I have to pay a visit to a witch friend of mine."

Bonnie Bennet opened her eyes to the the darkened forest before her, fuzzy at first, and then clearer than ever. But something felt wrong. So wrong. Last thing she remembered was Jeremy, and Elena pushing him… No, definitely not Elena. It was Katherine Pierce who showed up out of the blue. She'd been hurt badly, so her memories were vague, but she remembered the stone cold hand of Silas grabbing Jeremy's neck and…

Bonnie's hand shot up to the ground by her head, softly pushing herself up as her memories came back all at once. Her heat began to race quickly, and she felt her pulse beat harder each second. She brought herself to her knees and waited for the pain to come. And she kept waiting.

But it never came. Her free hand went to her back, looking for the bloody wound, but she only met soft wrappings carefully placed on top of it. "Don't touch it." She looked up in surprise at Atticus Shane, who was walking his way towards her with a small bucket and a peaceful demeanor. "I used some of the island's herbs and berries to help treat the wound, but not being an actual witch I can't guarantee much."

He kneeled by her side and left the bucket on the ground. Bonnie's green eyes immediately found a bloodied gash in his khaki fisherman's pants, in the leg which was holding his weight, yet he didn't seem to be in any pain at all when she clearly remembered him crying and whining not hours earlier.

Suspicious, she clenched her jaw and looked up to his seemingly innocent face. "How are you healed?"

For a second he seemed reluctant to tell her, but he confessed: "It was Silas." Bonnie's face twisted in shock. "You did it, Bonnie, he's risen." He went to touch her arm, but she pushed him away in indignation.

"Get away from me!"

"I know you're angry with me, but now you'll see everything I did, those lives lost," Bonnie took a sharp breath." they weren't in vain," He shook his head. "Silas is gonna bring them back."

"What you wanna do isn't natural, Shane." She scolded. "You can't bring back the dead." Her face was the perfect reflection of anger, and rightfully so, since she'd been a first-row spectator to the horrible things that happened every time someone decided to mess with the natural order.

But Shane was still calm. He gave her some space and looked at her with pity. "I think you'll change your mind now."

Bonnie gulped at his confidence, but it was his choice of words what truly worried her. "What'd you mean now?"

"When Silas awoke, he had to feed to gain his strength, he'd been dissecting for almost two thousand years. He needed blood." Bonnie sat straighter, fearing whatever words were about to come out of Shane's mouth. "Jeremy was there."

She shook her head, blood running cold. "What are you saying?"

"He…" Shane trailed ff.

Bonnie was growing more anxious. "What are you saying to me?!" She snapped.

"He drained him of his blood, Bonnie." Shane said in a soft voice that sounded muffled and too far away for her, but she still understood them. Her eyes began to water as she felt like she was being struck by lightning. "Jeremy's dead."

She didn't know how long she'd been crying for. Time seemed to be a foreign concept for her. She didn't feel the wind blowing her face, or the cold creeping through her fingers. Bonnie simply felt the pain, a syringe full of grief that'd been staked through her chest and emptied inside her heart, which was now pumping freezing river water that exited through her clouded eyes and trailed down her cheeks. She let the river run for what felt like hours, sobbing and sniffing as she reminisced Jeremy's childlike smile like flashes of old, black and white movies in her head.

She wanted it to be a lie. She wanted Shane to be a big, fat liar. But her memory was clear. She remembered Katherine. She remembered Silas' hand snapping Jeremy's neck. She remembered his beautiful brown eyes empty as he stared at nothing in particular.

He was dead. Truly dead. And she didn't do anything to stop it.

She was still crying, now a little softer, when she finally managed to stand up on her own. Bonnie wanted to be left alone, to run through the woods until her pain disappeared, but Shane was by her side in a second, handing her a metallic cup.

"Bonnie… Here, drink this, it'll calm you down…"

The cup flew away from his grasp and into the ground before he could get it too close to her. "I don't want any of your stupid teas, Shane." She growled. Shane whispered something that sounded just like her name, but she didn't listen.

Bonnie pushed past him and her eyes stung when she looked at the improvised fire, reminding her of her tears and the reason for them. "Jeremy's dead!" She cried out.

The flames rose high and out of control. "Bonnie, be careful, don't let your magic get out of control." She rubbed her eyes with her palms as they burned, too close to the raging fire for her safety. "Bonnie… Bonnie! I'm not gonna let you fall apart," he held her as her knees gave up. "I'm not gonna let you!" He grabbed her arm too strongly, the physical pain bringing her back to reality. "Silas needs you." He whispered.

Through the tears, Bonnie saw Shane's face closer to hers. "He can bring Jeremy back, he can bring everyone back…" The fire went back to its original size. Bonnie's crying becoming simple whimpers. "And you're gonna help him, okay? You're gonna see Jeremy again." He promised.

Bonnie pressed her lips together as she studied his face. Her broken heart urging her to believe him, completely ignoring the bad feeling inside her gut.

"We've gotta get you home if you're gonna help Silas raise the dead."

Bonnie followed Shane closely as they hiked through the forest, barely managing to keep herself on her feet.

She pushed some branches away from her path as she gave long steps behind him. "I don't understand what I can do." She confessed.

Shane grabbed the big stick he'd been using to steady himself and explained. "Well, Silas can't do magic. He was a witch, but after he became Immortal, that ended. You can be a witch or a vampire, but never both." He announced. "That's why I've been teaching you Expression. So you can do his work for him.

"What? Wh— How?"

Seeing her confusion, Shane turned around to face her. They stood before each other for a moment before he put three of his fingers up. "Using the power of three massacres." At Bonnie's distressed look, he quickly went to elaborate. "Each massacre of twelve marks the earth with power, and you can use Expression to tap into that power."

He stepped closer to her to study her blank expression. "Three?" She breathed out incredulously. "You got thirty-six people killed?" She was outraged.

"No, I got twenty-four people killed." He said calmly as if it was a completely different thing. "Twelve humans at the Young farm, twelve hybrids. You and I are gonna complete the triangle."

"We're what?" To say she was in shock was an understanding.

"Look, there needs to be another massacre, but it's okay, they're gonna come back, it's worth it."

"I'm not helping you kill twelve people, Shane!" Bonnie's voice was severe and full of decision. She could never hurt someone innocent. It wasn't on her nature.

Shane's hands shot to her arms and grabbed her tightly, making sure she heard his next words. "Wouldn't you, if it meant you can see Jeremy again… Your grams. Everybody you and your friends ever lost." His voice was dreamy and it his promise was alluring. Bonnie discovered herself seriously considering, and Shane saw the crack in her will as soon as it showed in her expressive brown eyes. He huffed knowingly. "I think you would."

It took a heartbeat for Bonnie to snap back to her senses. She wasn't selfish! She wasn't the kind of person to take a life to bring someone back. Jeremy wouldn't want her to become that person. Her grandmother wouldn't forgive her! "No!" She pushed away in anger and took off running as fast as her feet could carry her.

Shane didn't follow her, but it wasn't necessary. Bonnie only made it so far before she tripped violently over something. Wind was knocked out of her chest and she turned to see what made her fall, only to find a ghostly Jeremy calling out her name. "Bonnie." He breathed.

Bonnie's heart stopped inside her chest. "Jeremy?"

"It hurts." He said.

"Jeremy!"

Blood came out of his nose. "Help me."

"I can help you!" She said with decision. She pressed her hands against his chest and closed her eyes in concentration, calling out for the magic in her blood. The wind turned erratic around them, making a whirlpool of dried leaves around them. She breathed and hoped, doing her very best to cure his wounds. To save him. Jeremy.

Jeremy…

Jeremy…

She pressed again, and her hands went through the hair and met the ground. The air became steady. "No…" She looked around to see if she could find him, but only met Shane's figure towering above her, pity in his eyes once again.

He stepped towards her slowly. "He asked you to help him, didn't he?" He took another step. "He needs your help." Bonnie looked up to him, eyes crystalized once again, hope gone from her usually cheerful staring. "You can do this, Bonnie. You know you can."

Bonnie was defeated. The fight gone from her, so she looked Shane into his eyes and confessed the truth she'd been fearing to say out loud. The truth that revealed that she wasn't the innocent, kind friend Elena and Caroline believed her to be. She was selfish. "I'll do whatever it takes."

Atticus Shane walked through the wilderness after Bonnie walked away. Only he wasn't Atticus Shane, but Silas. And he was looking for his sister.

He found her exactly where he left her, changing into fresh clothes she dug from Elena Gilbert's forgotten backpack. A pair of jeans, a long-sleeved, dark green shirt, and a light jacket. She was focused on putting socks on, sitting on the floor, back against the bark of the tree. Her hair was still like he remembered. Tangled and curled in every direction, few strands falling on her face.

She registered his presence quickly enough. "Finished with the witch?"

He shrugged. "Just filling her in on her duties." He sat by her side and looked inside Elena's bag for a bottle of water and a small rag. He poured some liquid in the cloth, just enough to make it moist, and began to scrub her face clean.

She flinched away from his touch, but he persisted. Rubbing her face clean from the dirt that caked over her complexion, and she reluctantly allowed him. "Why are you still wearing the dead man's face?" She asked.

Silas breathed out. "Can't be too careful?"

"Around me?" She snapped, pushing his hand away and standing up, feet already secure inside a pair of boots. "You want to take precautions? Fine. Let me take some of her magic so I can protect us."

She began to strut in the direction which he'd come from, but Silas grabbed her arm harshly. "You are not to touch Bonnie Bennet."

Veronica's eyes brown eyes were like fire under the dying light of the day. She breathed out from her nose, brows furrowing. Silas knew that look too well. Her sister's anger wasn't a common thing earlier in their lives. In fact, she used to be too good for her own sake. But after Eirene's incident… Silas knew she'd changed. She became wrathful, volatile. Out of control. "Fine." Her face became unreadable. "I'll take yours."

Her hand grabbed his neck and she focused, but nothing happened. Confused, she grabbed his cheeks with both her hands and her eyes gleamed.

Silas chuckled, grabbing her wrists and pulling them down to her sides softly. "You'll notice I've taken new precautions. Can't have me at the mercy of your temper tantrums, can we?"

Veronica clenched her jaw. "You seem very worried about your own well being, yet you deny me the only thing that'll grant me the ability to protect myself. Protect you."

"I'm confident I can protect myself at the moment. So can you." He walked a few steps away and grabbed something small inside Elena's bag, handing it to Veronica. "Do something about that bird's nest on your head. You look hideous."

Veronica grabbed the tie from Silas' hand and pulled her hair away from her face, wrapping it in an improvised bun. Her brother nodded in approval, happy to see her somewhat presentable. "I wasn't aware there was a dress etiquette in the twenty-first century."

Silas —in the face of Atticus, frowned. "How'd you know which century we're in?"

Grabbing Elena's bag, Veronica pressed her lips together. "The doppelgänger. I was inside her head. Couldn't see much. She's well versed in protection against mind-reading. But I got the basics." She proved so by securing the straps of the backpack over her chest. "Like, for example, that there's something called a bus, that can take us all the way to the witch's hometown."

His eyebrows shot up. "And why should we head there?"

"Because I'm convinced you want to keep an eye on your puppet, seeing as I alone am not enough to bring down the Other Side." She said quickly, walking through the trees with expertise. "And I intent to be around when it happens. I want to see the look on Qetsiyah's face when she realizes I brought her back from the dead just to kill her myself." Her eyes flashed red for a moment. "What about you?" She questioned. "Still looking for eternal life with Amara?"

"No," he said honestly. "I realize the only way we can be together forever is in death. And that can't happen as long as the Other Side is there to keep us apart. I intend to join her, find peace by her side."

He waited for a few minutes for her reaction, but she kept moving silently through the woods, just like in the old times, before she finally spoke again. "That's romantic, I guess."

He chuckled but didn't say much else for the rest of their hike towards civilization.

In the meantime, Veronica enjoyed the sounds of the forest, remembering the simpler times, when those endless woods would be her only haven. Only naïve of her was to think that her brother would look after her.

Veronica peeked over her shoulder at his smug expression, unmistakable, even under Atticus' skin. He was awake after two millennia, and he still wanted nothing but to die and join his pathetic human lover in the afterlife.

Veronica's blood boiled.

She'd been inside his head. The moment she touched him. She took advantage of his weakness, his foolishness to believe she'd try to drain his power. And she looked at his intentions. His desperation to destroy the barrier between him and Amara.

Looking after his sister, making sure she'd get what her heart wished, to pay back her two-thousand years of unwavering, blind loyalty, was not even on his list of priorities.

So she guided him to his goals, offered her abilities to him like she always did. Like the grateful, naïve sister always did. But she wasn't that girl anymore.

She was done paying her debt. From that moment on, Veronica would look after her only. And no one, not even her brother, would hold her back.