Post by VICTORIA SALVATORE on Dec 13, 2012 12:21:11 GMT -8
¨ HAVE YOU HEARD THE NEWS THAT YOU'RE DEAD ?
NO ONE EVER HAD MUCH NICE TO SAY ,
( I THINK THEY NEVER LIKED YOU ANYWAY ! ) - - - - - - - - - -
Mystic Falls. The place in which she’d been conceived, where she’d been born, raised. The place where she’d died. Correction; the place where she’d been reborn. Where her sire had turned her into the thing her brothers had become. A vampire. Over a hundred years ago, she was turned into a vampire by her annoying, although very attractive, British sire. And now, she was back. She’d spent so many years traveling, away from this place so no one could find her secret out. Besides, she couldn’t exactly stay where she was at the time, frozen in time while her friends and family grew old. She’d waited to leave though, until her mother passed. She’d spent those years watching over the woman who’d given birth to her.
Slipping into an alley, where she’d heard noises, she looked around, hoping that those noises were human. The scents of the alley – smelling of garbage and sewage – were too strong to pick out any proper human scents. Until, finally, a few feet away, she caught the scent of a young man, bloodied from a fight. Smiling faintly, she shook her head. He’d won, clearly; the blood wasn’t his, and whoever he’d fought had run off. Sauntering over to the man, the heels of her boots clicking on the ground as she watched him with a sexual, predatory gaze, “My, my, I wish I’d been here to see him lose the fight.” she said with a smirk, watching him. Looking over at him, she leaned against the brick wall, letting him take a good look at what she was clearly offering. Her body language clearly spoke to him, because the instant he stepped into the light, she could see his attraction to her.
Well, I’m glad you caught me in time, baby. How about we go somewhere private? His voice was deep, rough from the fight and it made her smile. Human men were so easy to manipulate. All you needed was a mildly attractive woman with even a small – even if fake – interest in him, and he was putty in your hands. A slow, sly smile crossed her face as she walked over to him, placing her hand on his chest and pushing him gently – with the fake strength of a human – against the side of the brick building they were next to, “I think this is private enough.” she said, leaning in to kiss him.
It was almost disappointing how little time it took to get him into the mood. She liked a challenge in her meal, but she was too bored to be picky today. By the time she’d made her way down his throat, light kisses lingering on his skin, his heart was racing and his blood pumping. Ripe and ready for the strike. And then, suddenly, she was looking into his eyes, compelling him to stay silent. When she knew he was complacent, she moved, striking out and digging her fangs deep into the flesh at his throat, the black veins around her eyes coming out as she held him against the wall, drinking him in. After one swallow of his blood, she pressed her body in against his, eyes closed as she took in what he used to live. And then, just as suddenly as it had started, she let go. He was alive, nowhere near to death, and she bit into her own wrist and fed him a bit of her blood to heal him before compelling him to leave, forget that she was ever there.
Watching as she walked away, she straightened her leather jacket and her grey blouse and slid her hands into the pockets of her Bench skinny jeans and started walking. Looking over at the building she’d had that boy up against as she walked out of the alley, she realized with relief that it was a bar. The Mystic Grill. Well, if she weren’t the luckiest girl in the world. Walking over to the door, she pulled the door open and headed over to the bar counter in the back of the place, ordering herself a scotch on the rocks as she settled into one of the bar stools, smiling at the bartender when he slid her drink over, “Thanks, sugar, I needed this.” she said, taking a sip of her drink before setting it down, her finger absently moving around the edge of the clear glass.
Looking around the bar absently, she wondered how many people in this town she could pick out. She was sure she’d be able to recognize their last name by how they looked. Generally, the families all carried similar traits. She’d realized that when she’d first lived around here. Not many things had changed in this place, that couldn’t have changed much. And then she thought of her brothers. Stefan and Damon were completely oblivious to the fact that she was their sister, a vampire and in town again. Breaking that to them would be fun. Sighing, she looked over at her drink and downed the last of it, flagging the bartender for another one.
( OPEN )
( 8 4 8 )
( DEAD BY MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE )
( OUTFIT )
( BROOKE FROM CAUTION )