Chapter 1
Disclaimer: I don't own the Vampire Diaries and I'm not gaining any profit from writing this.
Constructive criticism is welcome, flames are not.
Telepathy
§§§
Everything hurts.
My screams of agony were muffled by the gag in my mouth, preventing me from biting down on my tongue and drowning in my blood. Death was preferable to this.
I could feel myself thrashing in the restraints holding me face down on the meatal table. Leather bit into my wrists, small cuts opening up and staining my 'bed' and the marble floor.
Through the hole in the meatal where my face was held down by a leather harness, I could see the new blood flowing down in rivulets between the tiles. The blood would be washed away, but the stains would remain and the floor was going to be bloody again later.
"The pain will stop if you take them out, sweetie." teased the Monster who flayed my back with a scalpel.
I ignored him. I knew better than to do that, now. Nothing better than having a piece of your wings cut off to realise that the pain would be much worse if I listened. Being flayed hurt less.
"Well then, I guess that's enough for today."
I didn't relax, I knew he wasn't done yet.
"Jeremy asked about you today. He doesn't care if you're too sick to have visitors, he says he should be allowed to see you anyway. Maybe I'll bring him over next time, uhm? Wouldn't you like that? You miss your brother, no? He might even join you."
No, no, NO! Not Jeremy! I wanted to scream, to yell. Not my brother, not my twin.
Calm down, Pixie! He's human, remember? Grayson will never touch him.
I calmed down immediately. I learned to listen to Enzo quickly, he taught me to survive in this place. He protected me, distracted the Monster whenever he could to spare me the torture. The Monster gagged him too now. He didn't like to be distracted.
I knew Enzo was right, but the pain was making me irrational. Jeremy was human, the Monster wouldn't hurt him. My brother was safe.
"Nothing today, eh?" sighed the Monster, disappointed. "Next time, then." I could hear him moving around, putting away the instruments. "Goodnight, sweetheart."
I felt him kiss the back of my head and flinched away from him. Another disappointed sigh and electricity surged through me. I screamed through the gag and arched my back to get away from the taser, the restraints didn't let me get far.
"I'm your father, sweetheart, don't be like this." he admonished me.
I glared at the floor, trying to stop my body from twitching. If it wasn't for the catheter I would have lost control of my bladder, I still did but pissing myself was an humiliation I couldn't tolerate. Luckily, the Monster hated messes.
A woman he forced Enzo to compel (which needed daily reinforcements since the animal blood kept him weak) came every day, 3 times a day at six hour intervals (6:00, 12:00, 18:00, 00:00). Time was defined by her, we learned to count her visits to know when he'd be back (Enzo said that she was new, the Monster never bothered before I came. He could 'experiment' on me for hours but hated to see the consequences. Coward.).
She healed my injuries with Enzo's blood, cleaned the room, the equipment, washed us and changed our IVs (fluids for me, rabbit blood for Enzo) and my catheter. The compulsion made her come in, do her job and forget what she saw as soon as she left. It also kept her from helping us or feeling anything while here.
Her clinical touch was the closest thing to kindness in this place.
We were starving for any type of positive touch so her brushing our hair or giving us sponge baths felt good. It was humiliating, how we relied on her to stay sane. She was a victim just like us, I could feel her horror and fear whenever she stepped foot in here. She just couldn't react, a perfect puppet for the Monster.
I didn't realise the Monster had left until I heard the metal door closing and the bookshelf hiding it sliding back into place. The torture was over, but he'd be back next weekend.
Your dad's a piece of work, Pixie. Teased my fellow prisoner.
I snarled. Monster doesn't deserve that title.
Yeah. He sighed. Still can't believe he does this to you. You're his daughter.
I'm not human anymore. He doesn't care. I accepted that truth when he ripped my wing. It stopped bothering me. (Daddy, why?! Stop! Please! It hurts!)
Neither is your cousin, and she isn't here.
She's a doppelganger, they're nothing special. They just have the same face.
And their blood can somehow break the Sun and Moon curse, destroy Spirit Magic and free the Travelers.
He doesn't know that. I reminded him. He doesn't even know witches exist.
I know, although I'd be surprised if he didn't suspect. I mean, after vampires and fairies, it's natural to question what else exists. Sadist he may be, but he's not stupid.
Not a fairy. I complained.
The asshole laughed. Sorry, sorry. Fae.
I heard the bookshelf moving, the door clanging open. Heard it close again as the shelf moved back into place. The woman had arrived.
There's someone else, whispered Enzo, and it's not Grayson.
I tensed, the Monster had promised no one knew about me. He wanted to be the only one to unravel the mystery of 'this new species'. Promises meant nothing to him, but his research did. Whoever was here, the Monster didn't know.
I heard retching, and could smell the vomit in the air. (Didn't he know what he'd find?)
I felt a syringe plunge into my neck, vampire blood flowed through my veins and healing me. The pain was gone.
Thank you, Enzo. (For trying to protect me, for listening, for caring…) Stolen or not, it was his blood. It was the polite thing to do.
You're welcome, Pixie. I could heal him laughing in my head, I would keep doing it just for that. (I owed him my sanity and I'd find a way to give him the world if he asked.)
"Jazzie," a whimper.
I almost didn't recognize the voice. "Jeremy?!" The gag turned my worried cry into an indistinct mumble. (He couldn't be here. He wasn't safe!)
I felt the constraints against my limbs losses. I sat up quickly and felt dizzy, arms grabbed me before I could fall off the table. My blood stained the sleeves of a black hoodie. I looked up at our saviour, not wanting it to be Jeremy but hoping it was. Warm brown eyes, short brown locks and a face I knew better than my own. My twin.
I sobbed and threw my arms around his neck, "Jeremy, Jeremy, Jeremy…" I could do nothing but call his name until the tears became too much.
He hugged me back tightly, I felt tears flow down my naked shoulder, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I should've come sooner, but I didn't know, I swear…"
"Shhh, I know Jer, I know." I grabbed his face in my hands and looked into his watery eyes, "You need to leave, if he comes back..."
"He won't." he assured me, "Him, Elena and Mom are having a family night. They think I'm at the lake house with Tyler."
"Tyler?" I coughed and cleared my throat. My tongue felt heavy and my mouth as dry as sandpaper. IVs did nothing for parched throats.
"He drove me here, he's waiting outside. Let's go."
He helped me off the table and handed me his hoodie, it reached just beneath my buttocks. I made my way unsteadily to Enzo's table, ignoring the woman cleaning the blood off the floor. Jeremy tried to attract her attention, but I grabbed his arm and stopped him.
She's been compelled. I told him.
Jeremy gaped at me, wide eyed. Jazzie? Is that you?
Yes. I laughed at him.
Jeremy shook his head, amazed. Wow. Wait, compelled? As in, a vampire did this?
It was my turn to gape at him. How do you know?
He rubbed the back of his head, which I knew he only did when he felt guilty. After you disappeared, I combed through your room and found the Gilbert journals and Grandma Felicia's diaries.
So you know…? I tensed, not wanting to say it. (Jeremy, don't hate me, not you , never you, please…)
That you're a fairy just like her? That the Gilberts are vampire hunters? Yeah. He must have seen the worry on my face because he hurried to say, I don't care. You're you and nothing will change that. I think it's cool.
I blushed. Fae, not fairy.
I didn't know what else to say.
As soon as Enzo got free, he ripped the bandages from his eyes and threw himself at the woman. He drained her dry and dropped her carcass to the floor. Then he stared at Jeremy, waiting, naked as the day he was born.
Jeremy just nodded at him, saying nothing.
I tilted my head, curious. Doesn't her death bother you?
He looked at me, serious like I'd never seen him. "I spent two months searching for you, I knew he was lying, I knew you weren't ill. I had a lot of time to come to terms with the supernatural. You're not human, and neither is he, I can't hold you to the same standards. And he's your friend, no?"
He kept me sane, protected me.
He smiled at me, "Then, as long as he doesn't hurt kids or tortures innocents, I don't care."
Enzo scoffed, "I'm not a monster. That's your sperm donor."
Instead of getting angry, like I thought he would, Jeremy agreed. "Yeah, what he did to Jazzie, to you… it's worse than what I just saw, right?"
Neither of us answered him, neither of us wanted to remember.
Enzo turned back to the woman's corpse and stripped it. He smashed her phone (I remember telling him how technology advanced while he was locked up, sharing my memories so he wouldn't feel too out of place if we escaped) and gave me her pants and the 50 dollars in her wallet. Her shirt was ripped from where he had grabbed her and covered in bloodstains. I refused to wear it, I was sick of blood.
The legs had to be rolled up and Jeremy handed me his belt to keep them from falling off my hips.
The metal tables where in the center of the room, a metal table with the instruments the Monster used today between them and a closet with more 'medical' objects on the wall near Enzo's table. A small fridge with our blood stored in vials on the wall near my table, a camera above the door overseeing the whole room and a desk on the opposite wall.
Jeremy, grab the blood. Enzo, the camera, then use your speed to clean the room. I want none of our blood left.
While they followed my orders, I headed to the Monster's desk and grabbed the box with the cassette tapes. The camera recorded everything, all the time, in case we did anything interesting while he wasn't there. He always spent the mornings when he was here watching the tapes of the week (I was glad, it meant he had less time to hurt us, and telepathy couldn't be seen).
I also grabbed all his research papers, his laptop, double checked that the cassette player was empty and triple checked for secret compartments. There was one underneath the desk, one inside the drawer and another behind the tv. With a chill, I realised they contained the recordings of his torture sessions when it was just Enzo, and those with me too.
I grabbed everything and threw it inside the backpack Jeremy had left by the door. The newest tape was already in, the one from after he left, not from today's session, that one had been in the compartment beneath the desk. Jeremy wrapped the woman's bloody shirt around the 20 blood vials and put them in as well: 12 of Enzo's blood, 7 of mine and 1 vial from my wings (That blood was silvery-blue and the Monster was fascinated).
Enzo finished cleaning the room and we left, leaving the corpse wearing only her underwear and shoes on the table and her smashed cell phone on the ground.
§§§
Enzo left when we left the college building, he needed to hunt and find some clothes.
Jeremy led me to Tyler's car, avoiding all the cameras and the night patrol (I knew they were paid by Augustine to identify and detain vampires on campus). From what he told me, he and Tyler spent days watching their movements and memorising the cameras' locations.
It was Mum who told him where I was. Mum saw them reading the Gilbert journals and spilled everything: about the Council and the Monster taking me away. (I didn't care that she felt guilty, she let the Monster drag me away without complaint.)
Her words were enough to convince Tyler that the supernatural really existed, that Jonathan Gilbert and Grandma Felicia weren't crazy. The news that he was an untriggered werewolf was harder to swallow (Felicia's lover, Andrew Lockwood, was Tyler's grandfather and a werewolf. Her diary was pretty explicit about his 'sexual prowess'.)
Jeremy said Tyler forced himself to accept it because "My best friend is a fae and I can't lie to her, tell her I'm alright with her nature and then hate myself for being a werewolf. I'm going to accept what I am and live with it so I won't have to lie." (That was Tyler, stubborn and loyal to a fault to the few who gained his trust. So, me, Jeremy and Matt.)
You said two months? I suddenly remembered.
Today is May 20th.
He found out on March 12th. I've been here 69 days.
On the Winter Solstice (December 21, 2008) I woke up feeling like I was on fire, wings burst out of my back in a splatter of blood. I was thankfully alone at home, I had felt sick all day and skipped the Lockwood party.
The change was shocking (I was just 15, I wasn't ready for life altering shit like that): white hair, solid golden eyes with no pupils and no white sclera, pointed ears and electric blue wings with black outlines. I had magic too! Illusions, potions, elemental magic, those are the gift of the fae (I only learned how to use a glamour and coax plants to grow. There was a reason the older fae were stronger, our magic took years to learn, decades to master).
Fae are very instinctive creatures, we have no laws, because we have no need for them. Our instincts tell us exactly what we cannot do, these urges aren't suggestions, we're physically incapable of going against them. It's just our nature.
We can't lie, even before my Ascension I had problems with that. So, when my dad saw me flying in the forest (I thought I was safe. How did he find me? Why was he there?) I was screwed. I wasn't strong enough to show him an illusion to make him think he was hallucinating, I didn't have the time to make the potion to erase his memories, I had to tell him the truth.
He was understanding, he comforted me, told me everything was fine. I went to sleep excited to tell the truth to the rest of the family the next day and woke up tied to a metal table near Lorenzo (call me Enzo) St. John.
While I was reminiscing, me and Jeremy reached Tyler. When he saw us, he jumped off the dashboard of his black 1971 Buick GS (he made me memorise a ton of cars, the maniac).
"Oh my God, Jazzie!" he hugged me tightly and I leaned into his hug.
Tyler always made me feel safe, I knew he wouldn't let anything hurt me. He proved it when he punched Elena in fifth grade for calling me a freak. Bitch was just jealous her younger 'siblings' were smarter than her (I couldn't wait for the perfect chance to slap the adoption in her face). She tried to skip a year too, to prove she was better, but she failed the placement tests. Served her right!
Tyler jumped away from me, startled. I looked behind me and saw a smirking, shirtless Enzo. Well, at least he was wearing pants.
§§§
I spent the drive from Whitmore college to the lake house asleep.
Fae are weak to iron. Pure iron burns us, like vervain does vampires but anything with too much iron in it weakens us, limits our magic.
I spent two months on a steel table being tortured with medical tools every weekend, my magic was barely a treacle, and I felt dazed and out of it more times than not. Then, suddenly, I was free. The small stream was now a river and everything felt real, solid like it hadn't been in a while (it was more fainting than sleeping, thankfully none of the worrywarts noticed).
Telepathy over short distances requires barely any magic, so using it was no problem. However, my other form… well, that I couldn't use. The myths about us being small were true, fae could be human sized, or insect sized (at 10 cm, I was unusually tall). We could shift from one form to another, but it required more magic than the iron allowed me, hence my inability to just slip out of my bindings and escape.
On the other hand, hiding my wings required absolutely no magic. My hair, eyes and ears had to be hidden by a glamour, but my wings… Fae have two dimensional pockets beneath our skin, from our shoulder blades to just beneath our ribs. They can be seen with X-rays (as the Monster taught me), they're long, 5 cm wide, muscle structures right beneath our skin.
When our wings come out, the 'muscles' open the skin above them. There was no pain, no blood. I didn't really understand it, but the layers of skin above them (gaslear) were meant to open up like that, it was natural for us.
No matter how many times the Monster tried to cut the muscles open, he couldn't even nick them. My skin is as weak as a human's, but my gaelar (meaning 'wing bag') were harder than diamonds.
