"Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome."
– Isaac Asimov
Sometimes, I find myself questioning if this is really the path I am supposed to walk on. My life was supposed to end under the bridge, alongside my parents, yet fate had other ideas, and here I am still alive; standing against the tides of time.
Much like a page torn from a Liber Mysterium, my life strays far from the ordinary and it's adorned with moments of perfect serenity and poignant imperfections.
Those precious moments shared with loved ones are like delicate petals in a tempest, brief glimpses of joy that pierce through the shadows.
As long as they all remain safe, I can handle almost anything. Almost
Let me be clear; I want to live. However, being a doppelganger seems to only invite more suffering and heartache into one's existence.
I once attempted to cheat death in a way that satisfied me; by accepting Elijah's offer of an Elixir for resurrection in exchange for my assitance. Yet, fate took its own course—Damon took it upon himself to ensure my "safe return to him" by force-feeding me vampire blood. Now, there's no way back. I didn't fully trust the Elixir, and I don't blame Elijah as it was never meant for me. It was a 500-year-old concoction crafted for my ancestor, Katherine.
But anything seems preferable to immortality I don't even want.
With each new dawn, I'll be unveiled as the same seventeen-year-old girl, reluctantly adapting to unwelcome changes. No matter how hard I shall try to bury her deep within my consciousness, the unchangeable truth remains: she once lived, and I'll forever be bound and ensnared within her physical vessel.
Is that self-centered? Admitting that you're not okay, that you're no stranger to hollowness?
Even after Stefan. Even after he found me under that bridge and tried to breathe life back into my soul, it worked for a moment, but then I was back to being incomplete—empty. And I let him, I let him try to fix me—heal me. But it only deepened the wound.
Each time I let someone in, I'm afraid they will slip away. It's the gnawing fear that they'll fade away, vanish into the void like a wisp of smoke in the night. No matter how much love I hold for them there will always be that one horrible, horrible, horrible feeling that will manage to follow it.
I'm in here in Alaric's apartment awaiting my inevitable death which will be carried out by the Original Vampire, Klaus— Elijah's brother.
Currently, he has possessed Alaric's body to study the unbinding of the Hybrid Curse and protect himself from Bonnie's immense magical power, equivalent to a hundred dead witches. He succeeded in killing her, which I couldn't bear until Damon informed me that the witches had resurrected her. Their plan was for Klaus to believe that Bonnie was dead so that she could ultimately finish him off. I begged Stefan and Damon to let me in on their plan, but they thought I would freak out on the simplest things. So, I took matters into my own hands and undaggered Elijah, fearing that I might lose Bonnie again. Elijah eventually joined Team Kill Klaus, ensuring Bonnie's safety as long as we all cooperated.
I hear the door opening and see Maddox enter with a curly-haired girl, carrying a mysterious coffin and placing it at the room's center.
Soon after, Alaric—or rather, Klaus— enters with Katherine trapped in his grip—, his essence cloaked beneath Alaric's borrowed facade. A wicked grin dances across his lips and even with Alaric's face you can tell that it's not him.
His eyes gleamed with a malevolent amusement at my startled reaction. He employs his compelling power, she writhes in futile resistance, her pleas for mercy muted, as he guides her to shut up and sit in a corner.
The girl offers Imposter Alaric a chair and begins chanting in something that sounds like gibberish to me which causes him to collapse.
I stare at the now newly discovered witch with complete shock.
"What are you doing?"
She smirks and says, "Don't get your itty bitty hopes up little doppelganger, we're just putting him back in his body. Then, your history teacher will be set free."
Okay, what a bitch.
She grabs some candles from a black bag and places them around the coffin, while Maddox takes a glass bowl and a knife from Alaric's kitchen cabinet. They sit on the ground and stab their hands, gathering their blood in the empty container, and joining their hands together. The flames dangerously intensify, and they both start to chant together.
Ó Mistře stvoření, přiveď zpět duši, která byla kdysi umístěna do jiného, a přijmi prvek incendia a naší krve spojené O Master of Creation, bring back the soul that was once placed in another and as a gift take the element of fire and our blood combined.
Alaric's eyes are slowly opening, the real Alaric. He spots Katherine and his eyes travel towards me.
"Elena?"
He fights to stand, but his strength falters, and he crumples back to the floor, slipping once more into unconsciousness. I can't rush to his side, as much as every instinct in me screams to do so. I have to trust, hope, and wait for him to wake up. It's the maddening uncertainty of these moments that tears at my heart.
As the apartment and coffin's door creaked open with a deafening groan, an eerie gust of wind swept through, and icy shivers raced down my spine. The two witches dropped to their knees in reverence, signaling the arrival of the true
Klaus Mikaelson.
Amidst the tangled labyrinth of a psychopathic beast's contemplations, my thoughts dance, inexplicably drawn to the allure of this man's visage. His unruly tresses, a cascade of dirty blonde curls, frame piercing eyes, and a captivating blend of azure and emerald, which elegantly contrast his alabaster skin. This is not how I imagined an ancient bloodthirsty vampire.
Sensing my stolen glances, he caught it and a smug smirk appeared on his lip. My focus slowly shifts from him to a laptop resting on the table. A live video is playing of a girl screaming for help, she looks so familiar. . . it's Jules— Tyler's werewolf friend.
As he settled into the seat beside me, his intense gaze felt like it could peer into the depths of my soul, leaving me vulnerable, like a fragile butterfly pinned to a canvas of longing. The way he observed me, a mixture of curiosity and a touch of amusement, stirred a whirlwind of fear within me—a tumultuous dance that threatened to consume every part of my being.
Every part of my body was telling me to, run.
But I can't afford to be that stupid, Katherine's life is already an example. On the not-so-bright side, can I really even run from a thousand-year-old vampire?
The uncanny feeling that he's dissecting my every reaction is definitely there. I try to maintain a composed exterior, hiding the fear and uncertainty that churned beneath the surface. He's a master manipulator, and I have to— I need to be careful not to reveal too much of myself in this perilous game he wants to play
When he stares, I stare right back and it's obvious he's waiting for me to say something. So I do. "Is that the werewolf you'll sacrifice?"
His eyes betrayed a genuine sense of surprise from my question, probably because he was waiting for a plea for mercy. A faint smirk follows. "She's the backup, love."
He possesses this sophisticated English accent with hints of allure and charm.
"Backup for what, exactly?" I inquired, curiosity getting the better of me. A bit too much.
His grin widened and he replied, "You are quite the inquisitive one, aren't you? Well, there's no harm in sharing. It's the Lockwood werewolf and the blonde vampire."
No-no-no-no-no. Tyler is the werewolf, and Caroline is the vampire. I thought that Damon had this under control.
"What? You can't do that," I protested, though in hindsight, my choice of words might not have been ideal.
My response seemed to amuse him further. "And who said I was obeying your commands, doppelganger?"
His mangled pronunciation of "doppelganger" grated on my nerves, yet I summoned all my restraint to suppress the rising anger. Thoughts of his plans for a human hunting expedition in Mystic Falls only fueled my growing annoyance and fear. It's impossible to escape the feeling that it was a deliberate tactic— a reminder of my perceived insignificance, all neatly ensnared within his control.
That infuriating, smug smile; how much I would enjoy wiping it from his face. My own power might not suffice for such a blessing, but who's to say I couldn't shove his own medicine down his throat?
"No one said you were, Niklaus. You said it yourself, you have a backup," I stated— if I protest again on anything, he'll take it as a challenge.
Katherine had once informed me of Klaus's aversion to being called Niklaus during her explaining her backstory. It was the name bestowed upon him by his father. Elijah had hinted at the mysteries surrounding his family, but I saw no reason to delve deeper into the life of my would-be killer.
His smile wavered slightly. "A spirited one we have here, eh? I can sense more of the Petrova fire within you than I ever did in dear Katerina. Don't you agree, Katerina?"
Katherine did her best to avoid even glancing in his direction. At his behest, she finally spoke, voice quivering with fear. "Please, just kill me already and get it over with."
If she had been afraid of Klaus while he was inhabiting Alaric's body, then she is a bundle of nerves in the presence of the real deal.
"And show you kindness? For five hundred years, I have granted you the freedom to run. Now your death will endure for at least half of that."
His phone starts buzzing: causing him to move to another room to attend to it.
Katherine with an annoyed look is staring at me.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you Elena?"
She is definitely not the backup vampire, Klaus made that clear already.
"I have to admit that it feels pretty damn good seeing you being humbled, but I'm not going to spend possibly my last few hours on this Earth thinking about all the shit you pulled Katherine."
She rolls her eyes and slumps into her chair.
"Petrova fire, my foot. . . I hope you know, you're getting your way because of me. Otherwise, you would've been running too, you get to protect your family because of what happened to mine."
That's completely out of the blue.
"So what do you want? A thank you? Well, that's a first."
"I don't want anything from you. I don't want your appreciation and I definitely don't want your pity. I'm just making things clear before you know."
"Let's not pretend that you couldn't survive by accepting Elijah's offer of the Elixer or allowing Trevor to help you run as a human," I point out.
"I was eighteen, Elena. Eighteen. I just found out what the fuck magic is. I just found out that a five-hundred-year-old vampire wants to use me for a ritual to unlock his literal animal side. I didn't have anything or anyone."
For the first time, I see vulnerability in Katherine Pierce.
For the first time, I get to see a little bit of Katerina Petrova.
"I didn't mean it like that."
"Oh please, you did. Like I said, I don't want your pity."
She turns her head to the bedroom door and seems to be eavesdropping on Klaus's conversation before redirecting her attention to me. "Never mind. You have no idea what's coming for you, Elena," she says with a smile that I can't dissect, even if she has my face it's. . . I don't know.
One mistake, all it takes is one mistake.
"What do you m—"
My words are cut off as he returns to the room.
"It appears your Salvatore Puppies have succeeded in taking away my vampire and werewolf," he reveals.
I let fear grip me, oh and it did so tightly.
His grin stretched wide as he responds to my reaction, "My reputation precedes me, doesn't it?"
"It's kind of all that I heard about you, so I really don't have a choice." I blurt out.
"I suppose Rose-Marie at least lived to tell that tale. Anyone else?"
"Elijah," I offer, revealing the extent of my knowledge. He silently chuckles and wags his finger in an act of mockery.
"Ah, I see. Elijah and the Petrovas—history does tend to repeat itself. Do you happen to know where Elijah is now, my dear?"
I pursed my lips, pondering my response carefully. It would benefit everyone if he could trust that Elijah posed no threat, and it wouldn't seem like I was lying if Elijah had indeed been daggered twice.
"Daggered."
"And who daggered him?"
"Me."
"I learn more and more about you by the second. Sadly, we don't have much time. Greta will lead you to the ritual site."
I look over to Alaric's body. "Why isn't he waking up?"
"Oh, he'll wake up soon, it usually takes about two hours."
I can't imagine how many people's bodies he had hijacked.
Soon after the witch enters the flat, and Klaus instructs her to commence the channeling of the full moon once she reaches the ritual site.
Everything's going to be okay, he just wants to get under my skin. I'm walking willingly to my death, Katherine's family died because she ran. I'm not running. It's going to be okay, he has a backup. It's going to be okay, everything's going to be fine.
As we sit in the black SUV, Greta at the wheel, I'm constantly fighting the urge to ask her if she's Jonas' daughter, she certainly looks like him. Curiosity killed the cat but hey, I'm going to die anyway, so—
"Are you Jonas Martin's daughter?"
A surprised look passes her face from my question, "Yes."
"Your brother and father died to save you from Klaus."
It isn't meant as an accusation; instead, I'm attempting to ascertain whether she has any knowledge of the situation.
"I know." Her response made it look like she didn't give a damn about them.
"Do you really not care?"
"I pledge my loyalties to Klaus and Klaus only. It was their fault for wasting their time trying to find me when I was never even lost."
"You know it's going to get you killed, trusting Klaus is going to get you killed."
She hits the brakes and sharply rejoinders, "He promised me protection for the rest of my life. He will keep his word. My father and brother were just stupid. We're here, get ready."
The ritual site is actually just a place in the woods near the Old Lockwood property.
My steps falter as I stumble on an unexpected sight: a star-shaped display fashioned from jagged stones, encircled by gnarled wooden stakes. Yet, it's the figure sprawled upon the ground that seizes my attention. As I draw nearer and nearer to the lifeless form, a guttural cry of anguish escapes my trembling lips.
It's Jenna, lying there, still and unresponsive.
Notes: I made a playlist because I AM so excited for this fic! SO SO SO MUCH more is to come! Enjoy, drop a review if you liked it.
Playlist: playlist/79uGsYwIUvFhhf9H4SEFTu?si=950666a52e3a4359
it's a K/E playlist but it also goes along with the aesthetic of this fic:).