My bad, guys, life got a little wild, as it tends to do. But I'm back on track, and I appreciate y'all for sticking around. 🙏
That being said, this chapter's finally here, and to make it up to you, you're getting another chapter later this weekplus a bonus chapter (yep, 2–3k words of extra goodness). Consider it a thank-you for your patience and a treat for what's to come.
This chapter? We're diving back into the thick of it, expect tension, revelations, and a move that might change the game. 👀
----------------------------------------------------------------------
It's weird how things going wrong can still feel right.
Not in a comforting way, but in that wake-up-call kind of way. The kind that smacks you just hard enough to remind you you're not all-knowing and untouchable.
And yeah... I've been slipping.
I don't know if it was the party, or Elena's eyes, or Bonnie's words echoing in the back of my head. Maybe that was all of it. But standing here, just outside the circle of firelight, hood up, hands stuffed in my pockets—I felt it.
I've been coasting. Not completely, but enough to be self-aware.
At first, I convinced myself I was being strategic. Observant. I played it cool while everything unfolded around me to a certain extent. But deep down, I know the truth: I've been letting this version of "normal" dull my awareness. Letting late-night conversations cloud my judgment, I have no time not to feel if I'm dead.
Not with vampires lurking. Not with witches who might try to clock me if I'm too against the norm.
So yeah, I'm frustrated, but I'm also focused. The upside of things falling apart is that it forces you to rebuild better. Just two more years, and then I can leave this godforsaken town.
No more half-steps. No more comfort.
It's time to go ten times harder.
The farther I got from the music, the clearer my thoughts became. Dropped onto an old log, elbows on knees, and stared at the dirt like it had answers.
I ran a hand through my hair. Okay. Let's regroup.
So far? Not great. I'd barely gotten what I came for. I planted some ideas with Bonnie and maybe caught Elena a little off guard, gotta build rappor with the doppleganger, yet that's surface-level shit. Soft touches.
And yet their was Wickery Bridge I let a breath and rubbed my face. I hadn't forgotten the most important part of this night. Not even close.
The white oak.
Other than the fact that someone could kill an Original with white oak, there are tons of other magical purposes for which white oak can be used."
That wasn't an exaggeration. That was fact. And anyone who thinks it's just about vampire stakes thinks too small.
White oak has power- real, raw, ancient power. If I get my hands on a piece of it? I could craft charms, enchantments, maybe even build a protection ward strong enough to survive whatever comes my way.
Worst-case scenario? I stash it. Keep it safe. Build quietly.
Best-case? I walk away from this party with the first real piece of leverage anyone in this town has on the originals
And yet, here I was, sitting in the dark, thinking to myself instead of already at the damn bridge.
I pushed off the log, shaking my head. I might as well make my way now as I already wasted a lot of time hoping for events that will not come to pass.
Then I heard it.
A scream.
High, sharp. Female.
I froze.
It wasn't one of those over-the-top "woo!" shouts people let out when they're drunk and dancing on logs. This was different. Clipped. Frantic. Real.
Another scream followed, closer this time. Then nothing.
Maybe not all has gone to shit.
That white oak's coming with me, no matter what. I'm stealing that shit before sunrise.
But right now?
I need to move fast because if it is who I think it is, I can salvage whatever this is.
"Subtilis Fortitudo: Velocitas."
The world shifted. My pulse slowed, but everything else sped up. I felt the magic pulse through my muscles, reinforcing tendons and ligaments, my feet barely touching the forest floor as I surged forward. I normally topped out around nineteen miles an hour for a 40-yard, solid. But tripling that pushed me to the threshold. Close to what a starved baby vamp could hit.
It burned like hell, but I didn't stop.
As I closed in on the scream's source, I added the next layer. My voice was barely a whisper:
"Silenco."
Sound vanished from me. No twigs crunching, no leaves rustling. I was a whisper gliding through trees, my breath silent even to my own ears.
That's when I saw them.
Vicki Donovan, pinned to a tree, her limbs limp, her eyes wide and dazed. Blood soaked the neckline of her shirt, trickling down in thick lines. Her mouth moved, but no sound came out; her scream had been her last burst of energy.
Feeding on her was him.
Damon Salvatore.
He was smirking, relaxed, and acting like he was sipping from a wine glass, not a living person. I felt something cold rise in my gut, not fear, just Focus.
I didn't slow down.
With speed and precision, I crossed the last few feet and snapped his neck. He collapsed in a heap at Vicki's feet, his body crumpling like a marionette with its strings cut.
"Crude," I muttered, already pulling the syringes from my hoodie pocket, "but effective."
Three thick syringes, prepped with a steel alloy core and custom-brewed stasis solution. They wouldn't hold him for long, not from what he's experienced, but it would buy me the window I needed.
I jammed the first into his neck, the second into his thigh, the third straight into his abdomen. As the plunger depressed, I could feel the magic in the solution latch onto his body like invisible hooks. He wasn't going anywhere for a minute or two.
While I worked, I whispered the last charm of the set:
"Obliterae Praesentia."
The notice-me-not field shimmered into place. To anyone not looking directly for me or not already in the immediate vicinity—this patch of forest might as well have been a dead end. Their eyes would slide past it. They'd feel the urge to turn around, go back, and wander elsewhere.
It was rough magic, barely refined. It wouldn't hold up to a concerted search, and it drained me more than it should have.
Still, I nodded to myself. Crude. But it's a start. Not bad for a prototype. With time and refinement, I could turn this into something powerful. For now? It worked. And sometimes, that was enough.
I shoved the spent syringes into a lined pouch, then stuffed that into the pocket of my hoodie, keeping one hand free in case Damon stirred early.
Vicki was still staring, shock freezing her in place. Her lips moved again, a ghost of a "help me," but no air behind it. Poor girl.
I reached for my last spell of the set, voice soft:
"Somnus"
She blinked once and then collapsed into a gentle sleep, like a puppet whose strings had been cut more kindly than Damon's. I caught her before she hit the ground, gently lowering her to rest by the base of the tree.
With her unconscious and Damon sedated, I dropped the notice-me-not charm. Magic fizzled around the perimeter as the veil lifted. The air shifted subtly, like pressure releasing.
Now came the act.
I wiped sweat from my brow, pulled my hoodie tighter around me, and inhaled sharply. Then I put on my game face, wide eyes, breathless panic, voice full of urgency.
Time to lie like a motherfucker.
"HELP! HELP! SOMEBODY!" I screamed, stumbling out of the treeline, waving my arms frantically. "I NEED AN AMBULANCE! SHE'S HURT, PLEASE!"
I knelt beside Vicki, holding her hand like I was just some poor kid who'd wandered too far from the party and found something horrible. Someone would come soon. The spells fade would bring them back this way.
I just had to look like the hero.
And I could lie through my teeth.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
PowerStones!!!!!!!!
Malcom's Repertoire:
Curciari Dolor- Pain Infliction
Motus- Telekinesis
Somnus-Sleep Inducement
Recidere Memoriae- Memory Manipulation
Phasmatos Tribum, Nas Ex Veras, Ante Astenia. - Spirti Communication
Letari Cordis- Emotional Manipulation
Letari Cordis- Biological Manipulation/Healing
Subtilis Fortitudo- Physical Augmentation
Subtilis Fortitudo Velocitas- Physical Augmentation(Speed Focus)
bír ĝeš-èš- Subsection Of Memory manipulation/Subtle and Fleeting
Obliterae Praesentia - Presence Detourer