Metamorphosis || Self Para
Aleksander had decided to stay in town when Jessica, out of the blue, had decided to leave with Damon on some sort of road trip. He had felt betrayed. He was staying in that small town because of her, and now she was leaving? Miranda had come to the rescue, and he vented to her about her problems which once compared with hers seemed like the most trivial things ever. What had happened to Miranda was far worse than anything Aleksander could imagine going wrong with him and Jess. Lately, Aleksander's life had been a mess, and to top it all off, he was developing feelings for Miranda as well... strong feelings that made him do stupid things. Even though Miranda hadn't spent the night at Aleksander's house, he desperately wished she would have stayed. Nothing would have ahppened; he just couldn't bear the thought of something happening to her. He just couldn't let her go anywhere where she might have gotten hurt. He had sworn he would protect her no matter what. And he was planning on keeping that promise. The morning after, felt like a new beginning for Aleksander. He didn't know what it was, but he felt as everything had changed... As if everything he cared about in his life had turned upside down... For the worse. He checked his watch and saw that it was early afternoon. How long had he stayed with Miranda that night? He went to take a shower and tried to analyze his feelings for her. He didn't feel like he loved her... He was sure he loved Jessica, and he didn't feel the same way about Miranda. But could have his feelings for Miranda been a different type of love from Jessica's but with equal feeling? Aleksander would never know because right there he gave up on those thoughts. He had promised himself that he would think about, later...
He got out from the shower, and remembered he had promised Bethany he would meet her at the Mystic Grill. He headed over to the local restaurant, and when he asked for her, he received the same answer. "She was supposed to come in today, but no one has seen her all day." He knew he should have just brushed it off as maybe a flu or something, but a feeling in his gut told him it was far, far worse than that. He went home, and was surprised to see reruns of Family Guy. He hoped that would take away all the feelings of tragedy, but it didn't. He spent the entire evening fidgeting and pacing. Why hadn't Bethany notified him of her absence? Why hadn't Miranda come over to his house? And why hadn't Jessica called him already? He was frustrated, he was stressed and his first instinct was to grab the bag of weapons he had stashed in a compartment in his closet and go out hunting. He didn't do that, and felt guilty for even thinking about it. How could he go out and kill creatures like Miranda or Jessica... He felt a wave of repulsion towards himself. He couldn't take it any longer. he grabbed his keys and drove over to Beth's place to check up on her. As he parked his car in front of the quaint house, a feeling of nausea overpowered him. What is wrong with me? he had thought. He knocked on Beth's front door, but no answer came. His insides were churning. A feeling inside him told him something was wrong with Bethany, and his instincts told him to go to the forest. First thing was first... He went home, practically ripped the closet door open, and took out his weapons from the secret latch. He took out a big, meaty stake that glided perfectly into his hand. Memories of the hunt took over his senses. The screams of the vampires being staked, the feeling of their corpse-like skin once they were dead... He pushed the thoughts away. He didn't want to think about that. He'd only use the stake for his protection and Bethany's... unless he was too late to protect her.
When he arrived at the outskirts of the forest, he thought better of what he was doing. Everything was fine. He couldn't barge into the middle of a forest with a stake in hand in the middle of the night. He went back to his house trying to push away the nagging feeling in his mind that something was wrong. When he got home he plopped down on his couch and covered his face with his hands. He turned on the t to distract himself, but his feelings were all Jessica, Miranda and Bethany muddled into one strenuous headache. He was going to make himself some coffee, but at the memory of Miranda preparing the beverage in his kitchen he sat back down. He noticed an envelope on his coffee table that hadn't been there before. He gingerly began to open it and he took out a long piece of thin paper. It smelled peculiarly... almost as if it were centuries old. He began reading, and was a few lines in when he realized it was from Miranda. Why would Miranda write me a letter instead of just calling me? ?He kept reading the letter, and with each word he felt as if someone was wounding him. He couldn't believe what he was reading. He refused to believe what he was reading. Miranda couldn't do this to him. No after... everything. She couldn't leave him like Jessica had... He crumpled the letter and threw it against the television as the bottom of the palm of his hands pressed onto his eyes inflicting a small pressure on him. He wanted his thoughts to stop torturing. He couldn't deal with all this stress and frustration. Little by little, the people he cared about were leaving. First Jessica had run off with Damon, and now Miranda left a stupid letter in her place? He hadn't even said goodbye to her! He hadn't even told her his feelings for her! He stood up and walked to the kitchen, and slapped the coffee machine from the counter. It fell on the floor and broke into a million pieces. Glass covered the floor, and he let his body fall on the tiles. The glass cut his arms, but he didn't care. He was beyond physical pain. He wanted to end this, end himself and his thoughts, end everyone! ?In a sudden, small moment of peace, he heard the sound of breaking news from his tv. The body of twenty-six year old Bethany Yorke has been found, no further information can be disclosed. ?No. No, no, no, no, no... He hadn't heard right. In the blink of an eye, he was inches away from the tv and a brief picture of Beth was shown. It had been exactly five years since he had shed a tear and now he was fully crying. His hand went to the picture of the cheery redhead, but it disappeared as some news about some stupid elephant from a zoo replaced it. "Goddmit!" he yelled as he fall on the scratchy carpet. He was numb. He was beyond any feeling. Jessica wasn't here, Miranda had left and the only friend he had was dead... Exhaustion, both physical and emotional, enclosed him. His eyes closed, and he drifted into a dreamless sleep.
The next morning when Aleksander woke up he fell into his usual routine. He took a cold, ten minute shower, he prepared two fried eggs with bacon and a slice of buttered toast, and he began to polish his weapons. He expected to hunt that day. Maybe he would even get lucky and kill a whole clan; there weren't much of those in America. He knew he was getting ahead of himself. He doubted there were any clans in town, so he decided to have a nice road trip for a couple of weeks. He began packing his bags and he saw the letter from Miranda crumpled up in a corner in his living room. He quickly picked it up and stashed it into his pocket. Once he was all set he grabbed his keys and walked to his car. He started the car, and drove off towards the warmer south of Georgia, the Carolinas and Louisiana... He'd be sure to catch a few dozens of vampires... you know, to warm up.
That entire year, Aleksander Romanov was a different person. He became cold and heartless. His hatred of vampires grew into an obsession. It got to the point where if he saw one, he'd kill it in a heartbeat. All he cared about was exterminating vampires. He had rebuild his wall once again, and he made sure nothing and no one would break it. Even though, he returned to Mystic Falls on and off, he never touched one of the vampires there out of respect. But if any of them got out of line with him or crossed his path, he wouldn't hesitate to end them. He never thought about Jessica or Miranda. To him, they were holograms of people who had once been. But now they were dead to him. They had compelled him into thinking they were humans with real feelings. He would do them a favor by killing them. And if they ever returned back town, that was exactly what he expected to do.
