Mystic Falls I

The weight of what had happened settled over Mystic Falls like an oppressive fog. The town remained eerily quiet in the aftermath of Klaus' ritual, but for those who had survived it, the true reckoning was only beginning.

After Leon's recent revelations, Damon couldn't sit still.

Damon stood outside Elena's house, shoulders tense, hands curled into fists at his sides. He hadn't knocked yet. He wasn't sure if he had the right to.

He had done something unforgivable.

Feeding Elena his blood had been a desperate act, a selfish one. He had taken away her choice, betrayed the trust she had put in him. And now, the consequences of his own recklessness were unraveling before him.

Taking a breath, he finally knocked.

When the door opened, Elena stood there, eyes tired, lips pressed into a thin line. For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Then, finally, Damon exhaled. "I need to say something."

Elena didn't move. "Go ahead."

Damon swallowed. The words felt heavier than they should have. "I'm sorry."

Elena's eyes flickered with emotion, but her expression didn't soften. "You should be."

Damon let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, I should." His voice lowered. "But I don't think 'sorry' is enough, is it?"

Elena crossed her arms, her throat working as she struggled with her own emotions. "No, it's not."

He nodded. "Then what do I do?"

She hesitated. "I don't know."

That was all Damon needed to hear. He stepped back, nodding stiffly. "That's what I thought."

Elena's brows furrowed in confusion as he turned and walked away without another word.

Something was wrong.

Something was very wrong.

The pain in Damon's chest felt unbearable. The guilt. The loss. The knowledge that he had failed—not just Elena, but Stefan.

He couldn't do it.

He couldn't stand by and watch his brother sacrifice himself to Klaus. He couldn't bear to see Stefan turn into something he had spent over a century trying to escape.

So he made a decision.

A final one.

By the time he reached the town square, the sun had begun its slow descent into the horizon, casting golden light over the rooftops. Damon ripped off his daylight ring, letting it clatter onto the pavement.

The warmth of the sun kissed his skin, then burned.

He hissed, but didn't move.

The pain was sharp, searing, consuming him as flames licked at his flesh.

And for the first time in a long time, he welcomed it.

Stefan smelled burning before he saw it.

Panic jolted through him as he spotted his brother in the middle of the square, flames consuming his skin.

"No!"

In a blur, Stefan rushed forward, tackling Damon to the ground and shoving him into the shade.

Damon groaned in protest, but Stefan didn't let go.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Stefan's voice was raw with fury and desperation.

Damon coughed, body trembling from the pain of half-healed burns. "Ending this."

Stefan's grip tightened on his shoulders. "You don't get to do that."

Damon gave a humorless laugh. "You think I want to sit back and watch you throw your life away?"

Stefan's expression hardened. "I won't let you do this, Damon."

Damon gritted his teeth. "Then let me burn."

"Not an option."

Before Damon could protest again, Stefan's hand closed around his throat, cutting off his air just enough to weaken him. Damon struggled briefly, but he was still recovering, and Stefan was stronger in that moment.

Damon's vision blurred as darkness took him.

The next thing he knew, he was waking up in the basement of the Salvatore house.

The cellar.

Chains clanked against the stone as Damon shifted, his wrists bound, keeping him in place.

Stefan stood in front of him, arms crossed. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes burned with determination.

"You're staying here," Stefan said simply.

Damon scoffed. "Oh, so now I'm the one that gets locked up?"

Stefan's jaw clenched. "Until you stop trying to kill yourself? Yeah, you are."

Damon exhaled, leaning his head back against the wall. He was exhausted. Defeated.

But deep down, he knew Stefan wasn't going to let him go.

And as much as he hated to admit it…

A part of him was grateful.

________________

While the Salvatore brothers dealt with their own breaking points, far from them, buried deep in the forest, Klaus Mikaelson opened his eyes.

The transition from beast to man was disorienting, but the moment he regained his senses, a slow, satisfied smile stretched across his lips.

He could feel it.

The power. The freedom. The control.

He had spent two days as a wolf, completely consumed by his instincts, but now that he had returned to his original form, the memories were still there.

Every. Single. Kill.

He chuckled to himself, running a hand through his hair.

"I must say," he murmured, stretching his limbs, "that was exhilarating."

His eyes flickered with a dangerous glint.

And now?

Now he was just getting started.

______________

Stefan moved through the streets of Mystic Falls with purpose, the weight of Damon's fate pressing heavily on his shoulders. The scent of blood and death still clung to the air from the ritual, a reminder of everything Klaus had already taken.

And yet, Stefan was about to offer him more.

When he reached Klaus' temporary hideout—a lavish, dimly lit mansion on the outskirts of town—his stomach twisted. This was a deal he never wanted to make, but there was no other choice. Damon's life was on the line.

He knocked once.

The door opened almost immediately, as if Klaus had been expecting him. The Original hybrid stood in the doorway, looking refreshed, his expression one of amusement.

"Stefan," Klaus greeted, voice smooth as silk. "I was wondering when you'd come crawling."

Stefan ignored the jab, stepping inside without invitation. "I need your blood."

Klaus tilted his head. "For Damon, I assume?"

Stefan nodded. "You turned him into your pawn once. You know how this works. Just tell me what you want in return."

Klaus studied him for a moment before a slow, predatory smile spread across his lips.

"Oh, I think you already know."

Stefan's stomach sank.

Klaus took a deliberate step closer, voice lowering. "You see, I've been thinking about you, Stefan. About what you used to be." His eyes gleamed. "And I rather liked you better then."

Stefan stiffened.

"The Ripper," Klaus continued, as if savoring the title. "That's what I want. Not this brooding, self-righteous excuse for a vampire standing before me."

Stefan clenched his jaw. "That part of me is gone."

Klaus let out a light chuckle, shaking his head. "No, it's not. It's buried, waiting. You've been fighting it all this time, but I know exactly what it takes to bring it out."

Stefan exhaled sharply. "And if I give you what you want?"

Klaus smirked. "Then I'll give you what you want. A cure for your brother."

Stefan hesitated. It wasn't just his life he was bargaining with—it was his very soul.

But he didn't have a choice.

Steeling himself, he met Klaus' gaze. "Fine," he said. "You have a deal."

Klaus' grin widened, dark satisfaction flickering in his eyes.

"Good," he said, before suddenly vamp-speeding behind Stefan.

Before Stefan could react, Klaus forced a blood bag to his lips, sinking his fangs into the bag and shoving the bleeding sac against Stefan's mouth.

Stefan recoiled, but Klaus gripped his jaw tightly. "Drink," he commanded.

Stefan struggled, but the scent of pure, potent blood filled his senses. It called to him, an intoxicating melody he had spent years silencing.

And then, the moment the first drop touched his tongue, the fight was over.

Stefan gasped as the blood hit his system like wildfire, burning through his veins, igniting something long dormant. His mind screamed for him to stop, but his body betrayed him.

Klaus laughed, watching with satisfaction as Stefan's pupils dilated, his fangs extending involuntarily. "That's it," he whispered.

He shoved another bag in Stefan's face. More blood. More temptation.

Stefan sank his fangs into the bag, drinking greedily now.

And with every swallow, the Ripper inside him awakened. Klaus then called a girl familiar to Stefan, one he had seen at school before. Under Klaus' command and the allure of blood, he attacked.

__________________

While Stefan's transformation unfolded, Klaus had another loose end to tie up.

Elijah had been useful, but family could be a liability, and Klaus had learned long ago that sentimentality was weakness.

When Elijah returned to the mansion later that day, he found Klaus waiting for him, a drink in hand.

"Elijah," Klaus greeted smoothly. "You came back."

Elijah narrowed his eyes. "I gave you my word that I would."

Klaus nodded, taking a slow sip of his drink. "And I gave you mine that I would reunite you with our family."

Elijah's gaze flickered with something unreadable. "Then where are they?"

Klaus smiled. "Closer than you think."

Before Elijah could react, Klaus blurred forward, dagger in hand, and plunged it deep into Elijah's chest.

Elijah gasped, his body seizing as the magical silver coated in white ash wood took effect. His eyes burned with betrayal.

"Klaus…"

Klaus caught him as he collapsed, lowering him carefully to the floor.

"I am reuniting you with the family, brother," Klaus whispered. "Just… not in the way you expected."

He stepped back, watching as Elijah's body turned lifeless, frozen in an eternal slumber.

A pair of Klaus' hybrids stepped forward, lifting Elijah's body and carrying him away—to be stored with the rest of the family Klaus had already daggered.

Klaus exhaled, straightening his jacket.

One problem solved.

And with Stefan under his control, soon… everything would be exactly as he wanted.

__________________

The tension in Mystic Falls had been rising for days, and Carol Lockwood had finally reached her breaking point. The council had been losing control, the vampires were running unchecked, and the witches—well, they had been collecting their price for every vampire slain, draining the town's resources in the process.

With no foreseeable end to the Vampires, Leon and the witches slowly consumed the town until they retook every dollar paid for the above market land that Leon had purchased, Carol and the council had had enough.

Carol sat stiffly in her office, her fingers gripping the edge of her desk as she stared at Sheriff Forbes. "We agreed to protect this town, Liz," she said, voice hard. "You promised me control, and yet the vampires remain."

Sheriff Forbes shifted uncomfortably. "Carol, I—"

"No," Carol interrupted. "I'm done waiting. Either you do something about the vampires now, or I will find someone who will."

The threat was clear. The mayor had influence, and if Sheriff Forbes failed to act, Carol would turn to more extreme measures.

Sheriff Forbes exhaled sharply, her stomach twisting with guilt. Despite everything, she still believed she was protecting the town. And yet, she couldn't deny that the vampires had become more entangled in their lives than ever before.

She had no choice.