I arrived at the Stoner's Pit, a dimly lit spot nestled in the woods, with the faint scent of smoke lingering in the air. I steeled myself, determined not to let Alaric Saltzman corner me again. It was the day before the homecoming dance, and the usual crowd had gathered, laughter echoing amidst their conversations.
As I scanned the familiar faces, a voice called out behind me, breaking through the noise. "Uh, you're that new girl, Isobel Swan?"
I turned to find a tall guy standing there, his silhouette framed by the dim glow of the pit's lights. "My name is Isabella Swan, but I prefer Bella." I smiled at him, noticing how he stood about Jeremy's height, exuding a calm confidence.
He was around my age, with shining blond hair that reflected the light and warm brown eyes that seemed to hold stories untold. His muscular frame was accentuated by a casual black hoodie, faded jeans, and pristine white sneakers that looked brand new against the gravel beneath our feet.
"Uh... yeah," he replied softly. "Hi."
"Hi." I felt a spark of recognition. "You used to hang out with Vicky and Jeremy, right?"
"Yeah," he answered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I was supposed to be with them, but it was my mom's birthday."
He looked away, and I sensed a heaviness in his words. "I'm... I'm sorry for your loss. She was my friend, too."
A shadow crossed his features as he responded, "Maybe if I had been there, I could have helped them."
Another victim of Damon's destructiveness, I thought.
"I torture myself every day over Vicky's death," I confessed, feeling the weight of shared grief.
"Yeah..." he murmured, his eyes downcast.
"What did you say your name was again?"
"I didn't..." he started, hesitating. "My name is—" Suddenly, his gaze shifted, focusing on something behind me.
"Are you sure you're not a stoner?" a high-pitched voice interrupted behind me.
The guy cleared his throat, his demeanor shifting as he returned to his friends, leaving me in an awkward silence.
"Mr. Saltzman..." the girl began, her voice trailing off as she looked away. "He didn't do anything to you, did he?"
"No," I replied firmly, hoping to dispel any concern.
"Are you... sure?"
"Bella—oh." Just then, Caroline rushed up a whirlwind of energy. "Hello!"
Victoria greeted her with a radiant smile, her expression inviting. "Hi."
"Caroline, this is Victoria. Victoria, this is Caroline Forbes." I introduced them, feeling the tension ease slightly.
Caroline glanced around, her eyes darting as she assessed the scene. "How do you know Bella?"
"She fell into my life by chance," Victoria said with a hint of mischief.
Caroline grimaced, perhaps at the corny joke or the mental image of me tumbling into Victoria's arms, an unwelcome thought.
"How'd you guys meet?" Victoria pressed.
"Bella used to live here before," Caroline explained. "Would you mind if I borrowed Bella for a moment?" She wrapped her arm around me, pulling me close. "I think I left my house keys in her truck. My mother's working late; you know how moms can be!"
"My mother's dead," Victoria said quietly, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air.
"Oh, no..." Caroline stammered, her voice filled with genuine concern. "What happened?"
"TB," Victoria replied matter-of-factly.
"TB?" Caroline echoed, her brow furrowing in confusion.
"Tuberculosis," Victoria clarified, her tone steady but laced with sadness.
"Sorry," Caroline murmured, her gaze dropping to the ground.
"It's fine; at least she's no longer suffering," Victoria said, glancing at the group of stoners, then back at us. "Sorry, I'm rambling."
"I'm sorry. We really need to go," Caroline said politely, her hand squeezing mine. "I need to get your truck."
Caroline had once jokingly informed me that she wouldn't be caught dead in my old truck, but I sensed she wanted to steer me away from Victoria.
"Uh, sure, let's go," I replied, feeling relief and curiosity linger.
Caroline and Bella strode purposefully to the parking lot, tension rolling off them in waves as Caroline glanced over her shoulder, ensuring the red-headed vampire was not tailing them.
"What is it?" Bella asked, her curiosity piqued.
"What's what?" Caroline replied, a hint of annoyance creeping into her voice.
"What did you want to talk about?" Bella pressed, feeling the weight of Caroline's unspoken concerns.
Caroline glanced at Bella for a fleeting moment before averting her eyes, the uncertainty flickering across her face.
"Let's get in the truck," she instructed, her tone firm. They climbed into the vehicle, slamming the heavy doors behind them, sealing off the outside world. "Damon and Katherine think they've discovered a way to take down Klaus," she said, her voice steady but laced with urgency.
"What is it?" Bella demanded, her voice rising in exasperation.
"Bella—does the name Mikael ring any bells for you?"
"Kind of," Bella muttered, her brow furrowing in thought. "Wasn't he our imaginary friend from childhood?"
"I remember my mom insisting I get you to talk about him," Caroline recalled, her voice softening momentarily.
"What about him?" Bella asked, confusion creasing her features.
"I can't seem to recall the specifics..." Caroline murmured, frustration creeping into her tone.
"What does this have to do with—"
"When Katherine—"
"The only slightly eviler Elena clone," Bella interjected, sarcasm dripping from her words.
"She was close with a vampire named Pearl and her daughter, Anna," Caroline continued, ignoring the interruption.
"Jeremy's Anna?" Bella asked, piecing the puzzle together.
"Exactly. Pearl had knowledge of a vampire capable of killing an Original Vampire."
"What?! Did she actually tell Katherine?" Bella's eyes widened in shock.
"No. Despite their friendship, Pearl never fully trusted Katherine. But she did share this vital information with just one other person—"
"Her daughter, Anna," Bella finished with a sudden clarity. "But—"
"Jeremy can communicate with ghosts—"
"Since when?" Bella interrupted, incredulous.
"Since he died—"
"WHAT?!" Bella exclaimed, her voice rising again, disbelief etched across her face.
"Bella, focus," Caroline said, her tone sharp and commanding. "Anna told Jeremy about the hunter."
"Where is this hunter now?" Bella demanded, her determination solidifying.
"He's at the boarding house with Stefan and Damon," Caroline replied confidently.
"When did Stefan get—"
"Bella." Caroline cut her off, frustration boiling over. "The hunter's name is Mikael."
"M-Mikael?" Bella echoed, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and recognition. "Do you think—?"
"What do you remember about him?" Caroline pressed, her intensity unwavering.
"I remember feeling held, safe..." Bella trailed off as memories danced at the edge of her mind.
"Anything else?" Caroline insisted, leaning forward, drawing Bella into the moment.
"He was blond, middle-aged, and had piercing blue eyes..." Bella mumbled. "I thought he was just a figment of my imagination."
"You once drew a picture of him and insisted I give it to him," Caroline reminded her, her voice steady.
"Where is this hunter?" Bella demanded, urgency flooding her tone.
"I don't think it would be wise for you to meet him," Caroline answered, her gaze serious. "I don't want to give Damon and Alaric another reason to target you."
Bella opened her mouth to argue but ultimately fell silent, the weight of the situation pressing down on her.
"Okay," she finally said, resigned.
"Mr. Saltzman..."
"I need to go," Bella stated firmly, her resolve unshaken as she prepared to leave.
"Gran," I called softly, my voice filled with trepidation.
"Mrs. Higginbotham," Rosalie responded, her brow furrowing as she surveyed the space between us.
"Bella, Rosalie?" Gran's gaze shifted from me to Rosalie, her eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and concern.
It felt like an eternity since homecoming—the lively Saturday that buzzed with excitement, laughter, and secrets.
In the following weeks, during countless late-night conversations filled with hushed tones and uneasy glances, Rosalie and I resolved to finally confront Gran about Isobel's father. The other night, when Rosalie had stayed over, our whispers had turned into a strategic game plan.
"We need to talk," I announced, my heart racing at what would come.
"What about?" Gran asked, her tone cautious yet inviting.
"Isobel's father," Rosalie said gently, her voice steady as we sank into the plush depths of the couch. "Bella told me about Isobel and Beau."
I felt a pang of conflict; I had kept the secret of John buried deep within me. If Rosalie ever discovered the truth about vampires, the weight of that revelation would be unbearable.
Gran's gaze flicked between us, her expression shifting from curiosity to concern. I hesitated momentarily, then asked, "What's his name?"
"Henry Flemming." She sighed long, the name hanging heavy in the air.
At last, I had a name—one that unraveled the mystery I had been grappling with for so long.
"Has he tried to contact me?" I asked, anxiety prickling at the back of my mind.
"Yes, but that man," she replied, her voice laced with disdain, "he's nothing like Margaret; at least she understood that you belonged to Charlie and Renée."
"How?" I pressed, desperate for clarity.
"Tell us everything," Rosalie urged, gripping my arm with a sense of urgency as if the truth could protect us from the shadows looming closer.
As I gazed out from my bedroom window, the early morning light spilled across the street, illuminating Bella as she stood on the porch of her house. Her hair fluttered slightly in the gentle breeze, and I noticed Rosalie's sleek, silver car gliding away, the reflection of sunlight shimmering off its polished surface. The scene hinted at a cozy sleepover—a world filled with laughter and whispered secrets, reminiscent of the joyful nights I spent with Bonnie and Caroline, our giggles echoing into the early hours.
Suddenly, Bella turned, her eyes locking onto mine for a brief, electrifying moment. Time seemed to suspend as I felt hope rise in my chest. I lifted my hand in a friendly wave, wanting to bridge the growing distance between us. But to my dismay, she merely shot me a glance laden with frustration before storming off, her shoulders tense with unspoken emotions. It was like watching a door slam shut, leaving me on the other side, yearning to connect.
Confusion and worry consumed my thoughts. I was desperate to speak with her, to share the questions swirling in my mind about Isobel's parents and the unsettling comments Ric had made to her. Earlier, Caroline had confided in me, her voice low as she recounted how she and Rosalie had opted to escape for the rest of the day. She had also mentioned that Rosalie harbored suspicions about Ric and was convinced he was involved in something troubling that might be affecting Bella.
My thoughts drifted back to our confrontation with Ric—a memory tinged with dread. His presence had loomed large and intimidating, his gaze piercing and unforgiving. I could still feel the weight of fear pressing down on me, leaving me speechless and paralyzed in his presence. Discussing this precarious situation with him or anyone else felt overwhelming, so I kept my fears hidden, locked away in the recesses of my mind. I feared that sharing them might only escalate the turmoil surrounding us.
Worse still was the thought of Bella's grandmother. If she ever discovered what was happening—if she learned of our concerns and suspicions—it would erupt into chaos. I desperately wanted to prove myself as a trustworthy friend, keen to show that I could be there for Bella, but every attempt seemed met with resistance, leaving me feeling powerless.
For now, though, I knew I needed to focus on Jeremy. He was waiting for my attention and support, and perhaps by shifting my concentration away from my worries about Bella, I could find a way to navigate my own tangled emotions.
Why the heck is Jeremy standing in the middle of the road like that? I wondered as I rushed outside.
'Jeremy!' I called as I approached the Gilbert house. 'Get out of the road.'
'Jeremy?!' I saw Elena and The Saltman walking towards Jeremy. I backed away. 'What is he doing?!'
Suddenly, a car comes whipping around the corner and speeds towards Jeremy; Alaric and Elena run to him.
He just stood there; Jeremy stood there.
'Jeremy!' I cried.
'Oh my god!' Screeched Elena. 'Jeremy!'
'JEREMY!' Hollered Saltman.
'Jeremy, move!'
Alaric pushes Jeremy out of the way at the last second and is hit by the car instead; I screamed. Elena runs over to Alaric's body and turns him over. The car pulls up next to them.
'There I go again. Bumping into people...' a voice said smugly.
He drove away; the smell of burning rubber filled my nostrils. Jeremy gets up and runs over to them; I do the same.
'Jeremy, have you lost your ever-loving mind!' I screamed.
'He's gonna be alright.' Elena sighed, and then she turned to Jeremy. 'Are you all right?'
'I don't understand.' Jeremy said, dumbfounded.
'Who was that on the phone earlier?'
'It was Klaus!'
'What, that Klaus just now in the car?' I asked, looking between them and Alaric. 'Oh my god, he's dead...'
'No, Bella, he's wearing a Gilbert ring,' he said quietly, 'Ric will come back.'
'You were compelled, Jeremy!' Elena exclaimed. 'We've gotta get him inside- help me!
Alaric is lying on our sofa, still dead. I called Damon, and Bella went to grab a knife.
'What's the knife for?' Jeremy asked.
'Protection.' Bella answered.
'Klaus can't come in here.' I told her.
'But Damon can.' She snipped.
'You need to get over that.' I snapped.
'He literally killed her, Elena.' Jeremy scoffed.
"How is he?" Damon asked as he walked in.
"He's dead, but he had his ring.' I said. 'Klaus' hybrid hit him. Now we wait."
"Jeremy, why aren't you wearing vervain? Where is your bracelet?" He turned on him.
"I don't know," Jeremy said.
"It was Tyler!' I said. 'It had to have been. That's why he was hanging out with you. To get you off the vervain."
"Klaus is trying to send us a message. He wants us to find Stefan, who stole his coffins full of his dead family members."
"Coffins?"
"Yep! So all we have to do is find four coffins, and voilà! No one else on your family's Christmas list needs to die!"
"Wait, that's your big plan?!" Jeremy scoffed. "To steal back four dead originals so this evil hybrid doesn't kill me and everyone else we know?"
"You got a better idea?"
"Yeah! Let's get the hell out of here! Pack our bags and go!"
"Hey, Jeremy," I said, "calm down."
"No, no! I'm not going to calm down, Elena! This happens every time, no matter what we do! Get on my case about school and work...Who cares? None of us will make it out of this town alive."
He left, and Bella went upstairs.
"He said he wants his family back," I told Damon.
"No! No!!" He flared. "I know what you're thinking. The answer is no!"
"If we give him Rebekah..."
"Yeah, then Klaus undaggers her; the first thing she does is kill you! Frying pan, fire. Not an option!"
"Klaus' coffins...How many did you say they were?"
I sat in the Gilbert house, holding my knife and staring at Mr. Saltzman's body. It was nighttime, and he still hadn't returned to life despite wearing his magic ring.
I didn't know how long this would take; no one told me how long this would take.
Gran and Rosalie have been trying to contact me for hours; the phone calls and texts only pacify them for so long.
'Uhh..'
I jumped and nearly stabbed myself; I heard faint breathing from the couch.
My cell phone rang, making me gasp.
'Hello?' Called Alaric Saltzman.
His voice sounded like a death rattle.
'Jeremy? Elena?'
'Bella.' I answered.
'Bella?' I walked over to the couch so he wouldn't hurt himself trying to see me. 'Where- Why do you have a knife?'
'Protection.'
He sat up.'From me?'
'No, but your violent outbursts do give me reason to arm myself.'
'Izzy-'
'Bella.'
'We need to talk.'
'I need go; my grandmother is worried.'
I turned towards the door just as Elena walked in. 'Bella.' She gasped. 'Ric,' she cleared her throat, 'Hey!' I stood aside, and she walked in. 'When did you come back?'
'Just a few minutes ago.' Saltman said as he walked over to us.
They turned to me. 'How's Jeremy?' I asked, eager to get them focused on someone else.
'Yeah, how is Jeremy?'
'Hating me. Hating life. Hating the fact that we can't even have a family dinner without somebody dying before dessert. Are you okay?'
Before Mr. Saltzman coughed violently into his hand and saw there was blood on it.
'Is that supposed to happen?' I asked.
'No.'
'Oh my god!' Cried Elena.
'Something's wrong! The ring!'
He collapsed on the floor, moaning; I approached him cautiously.
'Mr. Saltzman?'
'Ric, hey.'
Elena opened the front door, letting the paramedics in.
Who called them?
'What happened?'
'He got hit by a car, and...he's coughing up blood.'
'Get his vitals.'
'Pulse pretty weak. Looks like internal bleeding. We gotta get him out of here.'
'Let's move!'
'Let's not and say we did.' A voice from the doorway. 'Why don't you two meet us at the hospital?'
'What?'
The two paramedics start to leave.
'Hey-'
'No, no, no, wait. No wait! You have to help him! What are you doing?'
'You can still save his life, Elena. Here, take my blood.' He raises and offers her his wrist. 'I can't get in. You're going to have to invite me.'
'Isn't that the guy who hit him?' I asked.
'No. Why are you doing this?'
'Klaus asked for his family. You didn't deliver.'
Mr. Saltman started coughing again. 'Ric! Oh my god! I'm right here.'
She rushed over to us and knelt next to him.
'He's going to die. You might want to invite me in, Elena.'
Suddenly, the guy cries and falls to the ground; Elena runs to the door.
'Jeremy!'
'He's not dead yet.'
Jeremy enters the house and runs into the kitchen.
'Where are you going?'
He takes a meat cleaver and goes out of the house again.
'What are you doing?
I rushed to Elena as Jeremy cut the guy's head off.
'Aahhh!'
'Now he's dead.' Jeremy said as he stood up, and I think I'm going to be sick. 'We've gotta get Alaric to the hospital now.'
'What are you doing here?'
'Dr. Fell.'
Dr. Fell was my doctor during both of my trips to the hospital. She was about 5'7, had brown eyes and wavey dark hair; she wore the typical doctor's coat.
'What did you do this time?'
'I'm visiting.'
'You'd better be!'
'I promise! I promise.'
'I'm serious, Isabella Swan! I don't want to see you as a patient again!'
'I found a friend who keeps me out of harm's way.'
'Are you taking your medication?'
'She makes me take it.'
'Good, you said you're visiting... is it your grandmother?'
'My... teacher.'
'Ok. I hope they're ok.'
'Yeah. Me, too.'