#vdwc

Pancakes have always been the Nobel family way. Hadley may get even less nutritional value from them than before, but she still eats pancakes with her family. She has to. It's part of how her family works. Other families talk their issues out, Hadley's family eats pancakes and pretends everything in their world is okay. And it is, for awhile. After all, it's hard to be upset with the world when you're eating scrumptious, golden-brown, pancakes smothered in sweet, sticky, sugary goodness. 

She likes to say that this tradition has been going on for as long as she can remember, but that's not entirely true. Hadley knows the exact day that it began, her fifth birthday. Her party had been rained out, she'd torn her brand new dress, and she'd skinned her knee while trying to play tag with one of the few kids that had actually showed up to her party. Feeling dejected, she'd trudged back inside and was ready to unleash a wail of epic proportions over her dashed dreams when she saw a stack on pancakes. "Pancakes for dinner?" she questioned, utterly confused by this unwarranted display of whimsy. She was the fun one, not her serious parents. Her did picked her up and sat her on his knee, "You're the birthday girl, and you didn't get the birthday you deserved so we decree that you get to have pancakes for dinner." Hadley didn't need any more of a justification than that. She dug right into the carb-filled feast and didn't come up for air until her mouth was covered in syrup. That was the first time that Hadley's family had used pancakes as a balm for family wounds, but it wouldn't be the last. 

The last time they'd used pancakes to problem solve would be etched in her mind forever. Since she'd had no idea that full moons would make her a disgusting, hairy, beast, Hadley had gone to sleep in her own bed on a fateful night. She'd woken up on the other side of town, naked, dirty, and very confused as to what just happened. After stealing some clothes from a camper, she made her way back home. Her parents had been worried sick about her and she had no excuse for why she looked like an extra from a supernatural show.

Fortunately, her parents filled in the blanks and came up with a secret affair with some inappropriate lover. Hadley wished her life was that glamorous. Her parents didn't agree. They grounded her, a totally uncalled for punishment. It's not like she'd wanted to go wandering the forest as a dog. No, if she'd had a choice, she would have preferred to have slept at home. Instead she'd been turned into a freak of nature and her hair was a knotted mess, it was going to take hours for her to look like a human being again. But what could she do, she didn't want to be locked in a psych ward. She argued her case, that nothing scandalous was going on and she'd just sleepwalked a really far way away. They didn't budge. Resigned to her fate, she went upstairs to shower. It was going to take a miracle worker to fix her appearance and she needed to start right away before something else happened and she was stuck at square one. 

After scrubbing the dirt and grime off her body, untangling the rat's nest that was her hair, and applying a mud mask to clear up any grossness left by her beastly excursion, Hadley headed downstairs for dinner. She was prepared to be angry, after all her punishment so did not fit the crime, and really could you punish someone for doing something they didn't want to do but had no control over? That didn't seem right at all. She'd prepared another argument while getting ready. While she couldn't tell her parents that an animal had basically taken her over for a bit, she could tell her parents that someone kidnapped her. It was practically the same thing. You'd never punish someone for being kidnapped. She'd even come up with a story about getting away from her kidnappers while being a total bad ass. It was a long shower. 

She'd been ready to tear her family a new one, whatever that meant, when her nose and brain finally started working in sync. The smell of pancakes wafted through the air and she knew her parents were trying to cushion the blow a little bit. It was still ridiculously unfair that she was grounded, but they were trying so she mind as well try too. She sat down on a bar stool as her dad continued flipping pancakes. "This just doesn't seem like you at all, baby girl. Keeping something like this from us? What's going on?" She hung her head in contrition. It wasn't her fault that she turned into a mongrel, but it wasn't her parent's fault either. She needed to check her attitude, that wasn't the way she operated normally. "I know," she said softly, "it won't happen again. I'm sorry." Her father smiled in approval and dropped the subject. Normally, they wouldn't have even touched on the subject again, her family didn't like talking about issues. If her behavior hadn't been so out of character, her father never would've commented on it. 

Needing to be productive, she got up and set the table. Her mother was impressed and pleased when she walked in and saw Hadley's efforts at making up for her behavior. The three of them sat down and ate together. Hadley was so mixed up and confused that each bite stuck in her throat as though it were a weight and not food at all. Still, she choked down her dinner. It was tradition and her inability to eat it would leave her parents with more questions. Right now, she needed them to think that this was all behind them. It was the only way that they wouldn't monitor her every move. She polished off her plate, a smile on her face, hoping that they'd fall for her act. Normally she was a terrible actress, but she must be getting better because her parents bought her poor performance. 

Today was a day for celebration. Quiet celebration, of course, publicly it was a day of mourning. It wouldn't do for the acquitted murderer to pop champagne and sing in the streets No, that would look far too suspicious. So she'd don all black, perhaps have an emotional scene in public, and wander around town looking morose and sad. But privately, she'd kick her feet up and relish in the triumph of her greatest plan. 

It hadn't been an easy plan. While there are many ways to murder people, avoiding suspicion when you're the sole survivor of a murder isn't a simple task. No, it requires a great deal of planning and wit. People may not particularly care about the poor or the less privileged, but everyone cares when a rich caucasian family is murdered in cold blood. They have all the advantages the world has to offer and that doesn't prevent them from being murdered. It's a horrifying truth for most, a thrilling fact for Lana. 

Her parents had been annoyingly mundane. There was the standard alcohol addiction and her father was very fond of his mistress, but there was no abuse, no drugs, no kinky behavior that the tabloids would find alarming. They were the cleavers of the Upper East Side. Practically perfect. It was sickening. Growing up, Lana had heard many stories about other family's scandals. Ryan Bankcroft was caught being dominated by three men, Deborah Maple overdosed in the middle of Thanksgiving dinner, Kerr Sterling lost three of his fingers to the mob after attempting to extort money from them. So many exciting stories in contrast to her boring life. 

Her boredom had led her to terrorizing those that were naive enough to consider her their friend. It was exciting and created a whirlwind of scandal in her life, but it wasn't enough. She could never do anything too drastic without raising suspicion and she soon grew weary of tiny scandals. There were only so many times someone could be arrested or had all their relationships destroyed before it became blasé. No, Lana needed a bigger scandal. Something that would let her live in infamy. 

Her parents weren't her first murder victim. She'd needed a test subject. It would be impossible to know exactly how to butcher a person without testing it out first. Gathering too many victims would cast suspicion on her, but a handful of victims were necessary to determine the proper methodology. It should have been harder than it was. Finding victims was simply a matter of hiking up her skirt and visiting the less savory neighborhoods. Violence was so common there that finding one more dead body wasn't even worth five seconds of news time. No, in the American system of meritocracy, the poor deserved every terrible thing that happened to them, including death. Her victims were only memorialized by their families and Lana's trophy case. 

Once she'd determined the proper method for attack, she went about laying the groundwork. She was particularly vocal about the threat of violence that was hanging over her family as her parents marriage spiraled out of control. Sleepovers became common place where Lana would arrange for her parents to fight while guests were staying with them. A few mysterious texts from an unknown number was all it took for her mother and father to turn on each other, shedding the skin of decorum and yelling for all to hear. 

She began bringing up a former classmate named Melanie. This girl was an amalgamation of body parts that Lana had photoshopped together. She was young, pretty, and sickeningly sweet. All she wanted was Alistair Ashton's last name as her own. Melanie sent messages, left voicemails, and emails. She even sent a few threats to Cordelia Ashton, warning her of what should happen if Alistair didn't end their marriage. This fictional creature even had the audacity to threaten their beloved child. In a panic, Alistair and Cordelia contacted the authorities. But those messages all mysteriously disappeared and there was nothing that could be done. 

It was time for the main event to begin. After calling a few acquaintances and letting them know that she'd just sat through a distressing family dinner with numerous threats slung back and forth between her parents, Lana Ashton was ready for her fun to begin. She'd made sure to dose their wine with Valerian, an herbal sedative. Her parents were sedated enough that they wouldn't put up a fight and nothing would show up on a tox screen. Once they were incapacitated, she tied them up, gagged them, and slipped a mask over head in case someone should happen upon the scene. She dragged their bodies up the stairs to the master suite, undressing them with cold precision before arranging them on the bed. 

She would have enjoyed the opportunity to chase them around the house, see their shocked expressions as their daughter went about trying to end their existence. But it was too much of a risk, they could get away or leave her with a wound that could easily tie her back to their deaths. Instead, she was forced to make do with committing the act and knowing that she had done it, she'd killed them. 

Her experiments had taught her that a series of shallow cuts allowed for slow blood loss. It was a long, drawn out, torturous, method. If she aimed for the carotid artery, her parents would be dead in minutes and that just wasn't as satisfying. They needed to suffer, it was the only way she'd derive pleasure from the kill itself. She made twenty small cuts, superficial wounds mainly. Enough for them to bleed but not enough for them to die. Blood pooled on the floor as she considered which cut would deliver the fatal blow. Her mind sorted through possibilities and she finally settled on not delivering a final blow, but instead making each cut deeper until it was enough to kill them. 

Their house keeper was scheduled to make a stop at four in the morning, and Lana had calculated that she had more than enough time for them to be dead before the help arrived. Now all she had to do was make it impossible for herself to be blamed. 

She couldn't leave the house, heading on the fictional walk that she would claim to have taken when questioned by police. It would be too suspicious to leave her house after the murder was committed. Instead she checked to make sure the balcony was loosened before going back to her parents room and sprinting back into the hall, forcing her body to go over the balcony and land on the first floor. 

When she came to, she started to sob before calling the police. In between breaths she got out the words, "parents" and "murdered." The police were there in a flash and the new media circus began. Before being targeted as a suspect and the accused killer of her parents, she was on talk show after talk show talking about the brutality she'd witnessed after coming home from a night time walk. She had relished every second of her role, playing the distraught daughter was no hardship, she'd witnessed her peers play a variation of this every time their parents did something scandalous. But she'd beaten them all, no one in their circle would ever forget the brutal murder of the Ashtons. 

The trial itself was a thrilling endeavor, pleading her innocence when she was the only potential witness. She got to watch her lawyers highlight the flawless execution of her plan. Numerous acquaintances testified on her gentle nature and how scandal-free her parents were. Everyone said she couldn't possibly have done it. After all, she couldn't possibly be crazy enough to throw herself from a balcony for the sake of an alibi. Some people were so convinced of her evidence that they set up a trust fund for her, a proclamation of their support. It would have been touching if she'd ever had an interest in other people's emotions. 

After being acquitted, she'd been placed in witness protection on the off chance that Melanie tried to come after her. New York stopped being fun fairly soon after. She wanted to relish in what she'd done, not play the grieving for all eternity. So she'd moved around, hopping from place to place until she'd settled on Beacon Hills. It was a town brimming with evil just under the surface, the exact kind of place she wanted to be.

Vicki was blowing smoke in his face, and he was pulling back to laugh before inevitably following after her, like always. No, he was in his bed, holding Anna. She was curled into him and he knew that something was wrong. Wait, Anna wasn't in his arms. He was in someone else's arms, curled tightly to their chest.

Everything was ripped away from him all at once and he knew instantly just how very, very wrong he had been. He wasn't entirely sure of where he was. His house maybe? In that moment it didn't matter. All he knew was that he had to protect himself and his family. The monsters were here now and he needed to be the one to get rid of them. That desire coursed through his veins and propelled him forward as he ran down hallway after hallway, racing toward the enemy. He knew this wasn't right. This wasn't his house, that would be impossible, but he propelled forward anyway.

Screams. There were screams. Someone he cared about was hurt. The endless hallways ceased and he was left in a cold darkness. He could hear them, sense them even if he was being honest. That was scary though, having to be honest with himself now. She stumbled in front of him first. Out of control, desperate, scared. She wanted help and he would give it to her. That was what he told himself at least as the stake drove through her chest. People died and they were meant to stay dead. When they came back they were no longer human. It was as if that ever present voice was standing beside him as her body stilled at his feet, expressing its satisfaction. He had done well, but his work here wasn't done yet.

There was another. She wasn't scared and out of control. She was quiet, sad, lost. But she had to meet the same fate. They were all the same. He couldn't show mercy. Her dark eyes probed his as she continued to remain silent. It was almost as if she was just waiting for it. Jeremy produced another stake and shoved it into her just as he did to the first girl, and she made her first sound. A gasp of pain as the wood tore through her chest. He fell to the ground with her this time, landing on his knees.

He was vaguely aware of the blood that coated his hands but he let them fall to the floor anyway, grazing across it's wooden surface. Oddly enough, the ground beneath was what caught his attention enough to make him realize the sudden change of his surroundings. He was no longer it what was an empty, dark version of his own living room. One look up confirmed that.

His eyes fell on Daniel Salvatore's sleeping form. He was now in his house, his bedroom. Jeremy stood to his feet and let the familiar sight of him serve as a source of comfort. Everything was ok again, until the feel of a hand on each of his shoulders told he that he didn't come here alone. 

"You have to kill him."

"It's the only way."

"This is how it ends, if you want to save the people you really care about."

"He'll only hurt you, Jeremy, if you let him. Don't."

It didn't matter whose voice it was, all he knew was that the two girls were going back and forth relentlessly, an endless stream of encouragements to end the life of the man in front of him. This went on until it all seemed to fade together into one singular command: kill him. 

For however long he had been standing there, no one actually moved. Daniel continued to sleep and Jeremy fought against the voices that only he could hear. "No," He finally responded in a harsh whisper.

They took a step closer to him, positioning their mouths closer to his ears. "What are you waiting for, Jeremy?" A hand slid down his arm. "Kill him, it's easy." Another hand. "You know you want to."

He shrugged his shoulders with a groan in an effort to get them off but it was too late. His eyes were zeroed in on Daniel's chest and he realized that they were right. This was the thing to do if he wanted to protect everyone else. He had to start here, he couldn't be vulnerable. And he did want this. Whatever feelings he had for the vampire, the urge inside of him was stronger.

His steps to the bed were slow and deliberate, like he needed to move this way if he were really going to do it. Though it was no surprise when despite his best efforts, time refused to move any slower. That last step put him just at the edge of the bed, and his hand with a tight grip on a stake was poised over his heart.

The next part didn't happen as slowly. Actually, it seemed to happen all at once. He wanted to look away as it happened, the hunter wouldn't let him. He wanted Daniel to just kill him, he didn't want to be strong enough to do this, but he was. He didn't want to enjoy the look and feel off the blood staining his hands all over again. He didn't want any of this--but oh, of course he did. He could feel the internal satisfaction at what he was doing, along with the broken, weaker part that just couldn't put up enough of a fight. His own thoughts came in fragmented pieces as the two sides fought against one another until relief finally came to him. He was able to shut his eyes, and that took him away.

He was home again, standing just outside of Elena's open bedroom door. There was a faint smile on his face as he saw her sitting on her bed writing in her diary. No, she was hunched over, and she was--was she crying? He took a step forward and spoke her name aloud in the quiet. "Elena."

As she turned he was greeted by the sight of torn clothing and blood, and he wasn't even sure if all of the blood was hers or not. He tried to speak but nothing came out this time, he was frozen.

Yes, Elena was crying. Blood stained her lips and ran down her chin as tears fell from her eyes. She looked scared and sad, but then she seemed to notice him. Her eyes fixated on his and the crying ceased only to be replaced by a look of anger. She was standing to her feet and coming directly toward him. Her mouth opened to show off an elongated set of fangs and the thin red veins appeared beneath her eyes.

"You can't save me." The words came out in an almost growl. "You can't save anyone."

...

His arms reached out to find nothing, and fell back on the bed beside him. He was alone. None of that really happened. He repeated the words in his mind several times, breathing slowly and hoping that they would manage to have the desired effect. It still felt like there was a weight on his chest making it feel hard to breathe at all. His eyes drifted up to the ceiling and he desperately wished that tonight he had fallen asleep in Daniel Salvatore's bed rather than his own, which now felt empty, achingly so.

After another quiet moment he managed to push himself out of the bed and walk out his door, heading straight for another one. He easily opened the bedroom door not too far from his and slipped inside, doing his best to remain quiet though he was sure his sister would notice his presence soon enough. He slipped into the side of the bed opposite from the one she was laying on and pulled her covers over him before chancing a look in her direction to see if he woke her up.

He watched her stir before turning her head in his direction. "Jer?" He nodded in the darkness. "Yeah, it's me." She ran a hand through her hair and blinked several times. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine. We can talk in the morning."

She didn't care. They had offended her and for that, they should pay. After all, she was Queen. Do they think she didn't deserve her respect because she was an evil Queen? It wasn't like she was massacring people on a daily basis. Queen Rebekah could be far more evil than what she was.

The customs were still the same, however, and they had not followed them. You'd think the trolls had raised them with the manners they had.

With his heart in her hand, Queen Rebekah felt their stupidity puling from the life source. Had he forgotten? Had he thought she would have a change of heart at their love, that her heart would warm for only a quick moment to let them escape?

Please. She wasn't Queen because she had a warm heart.

Queen Rebekah was Queen Rebekah because her heart was cold. She had no regard for others, she did not care what happened to those she did not care for, and she was powerful. Power was what granted her position and she was not so hasty to lose it, all because he had fallen in love with that damned brunette wench. Rebekah was not to be embarrassed, to be made a fool of.

Rebekah was fond of him, she supposed. He had warmed her bed a few nights. Stefan Salvatore, his name preceding only his reputation. He was a good listener what he was smart, and when he wasn't, he was as dumb as his age allowed him to be. So young. She hated that his life would have to end so quickly.

All because of that girl, the plain, dull, uninteresting, trouble-causing girl. Rebekah was a million times better than her. Why could not everyone else see that? Why couldn't Stefan?

Oh, it didn't matter. Stefan did not matter and Elena whatever her name was did not matter.

(Evil) Queen Rebekah did matter.

She mattered even more when she crushed his heart in her bare hands, watching it crumble into dust before her, a whisper of a 'goodbye' on her lips. She could've sworn she felt his body drop from here, all in the way safe in her tower.

As Jeremy impatiently tapped his pencil against his notebook while the teacher continued to drone on and on at the front of the classroom he considered just letting his head drop down onto the desk. Sleep would make time move faster. He wouldn't feel as constrained, and he would be closer to seeing her. He looked forward to her visits far more than he would ever admit, and he didn't even mean for things to be that way between them, but he just couldn't help himself. She consumed his thoughts, she was an escape.

His eyes drifted back up to his math teacher and he let his head rest on his hand. He could drone on about equations all he wanted, there was no way Jeremy was paying attention today.

His eyes wouldn't leave her. In the curve of Faye's body as she twisted back and forth to the music that drifted through the speakers, Jeremy didn't remember that he was an orphan. He forgot that he would be going home to a house with his still grieving aunt and sister waiting on him. She took another drink and laughed. There were no missing assignments and meetings with teachers to worry about. He was caught slightly off guard as she suddenly stopped moving and looked directly at him. "Are you having fun just watching me?" The question wasn't one he had to even think about. "Yeah, I am actually."

"I'm Jeremy, Gilbert." He nodded at her. "Ok Jeremy Gilbert, what are you doing here? In the stoner pit." He frowned at her question, realizing it was something no one had ever bothered to ask him before, probably because they thought they knew exactly why he was there. Really, he had never thought about the question himself. That was the trick these days, he didn't put much thought into things. "It's a long story." His answer finally came. "Go ahead." He was forced to raise an eyebrow and almost smile as the girl easily pulled the lit joint out of his hand.

Her fangs went into the skin at the base of his neck, it didn't hurt as much as he thought it would. As he felt her lips touch the spot he thought that he might even like the feel of it. One hand pulled her closer to him while the other ran up to her hair. Faye responded to the movements.

For the first time in what was only a short while, but felt so much longer, Jeremy found himself pacing around alone that night. He didn't like it.

He was surprised, and admittedly relieved, when the Grille gave him what he was looking for. "What are you doing here?" Her eyes narrowed as he approached her and took a spot at the bar beside her. "You didn't show up." He tried, but he couldn't hide the disappointment in his voice. Faye gave him a shrug in response. "You were expecting me to?" She knew he was, but neither of them said that out loud. There was no explanation or reason why given, but Jeremy had grown used to that. If he was being honest, he couldn't make himself mind that fact too much.

Their conversation didn't last long enough. "Sorry little Gilbert, your sister's on her way over." As Faye looked past him Jeremy followed her gaze to see his sister coming in the doors of the Grille with Caroline and Bonnie on either side of her, a forced smile on her face. "Faye." He didn't want her to go, and he didn't understand why she had to, but had already learned that was just what she did. "Don't worry, you'll be seeing me again, later." She winked at him just before she turned away and disappeared quicker than he would have liked her to, leaving him to be dragged over to a table by Caroline to join his sister and her friends.

"Where do you think? He's playing with his favourite human's again." Famine answered in amusement, slicing his sword through the air several times before sheathing it. All that could be heard after that was an annoyed sigh soon followed by the click clack clattering of hooves and the sound of the pale horse rearing back in anger. War looked back at him and leveled him with an annoyed expression, letting out a huff as Death rode off swiftly, leaving the dust to rise behind in her wake.

"Why did you have to go and tell her that for? Now she's just going to be emotionally unstable for the rest of the month." She scowled, kicking her legs up as she watched alongside Famine as the pale horse became a blur, its speed picking up as Death descended back down to earth. Returning to earth was something she hated doing unless absolutely necessary, she hated dwelling amongst the mortal's and chose to do her work from the skies. Plus it was easier to fulfill her purpose when she held no attachment to the beings whose lives she was taking. So for her to head down personally was something neither War nor Famine would ever see in a long time. Possibly ever since the day they were preparing for for the past millennia was steadily approaching.

"She's the harbinger of death..." Famine replied once her pale horse could no longer be seen even with their enhanced eyesight then turned to smile at his red-cloak wearing friend, "When is she not unstable?" They both laughed to themselves before glancing back down. They weren't technically from heaven, that would be kind of redundant. Neither were they beings from hell. They were messengers, judge-jury-and executioners so to speak. They kept order and made sure things went according to the plan that was set down.

Something that was always a hard thing to control when a certain horseman had a mind of his own. Out of the four horsemen that oversaw the humans below, Conquest was the one that tended to involve himself personally with the human affairs. He was, after all, a glorified narcissist. Involving himself directly with things that led directly to victory was his favourite pastime. Aside from actually completing that which was set out for him to do. Yet it was because of his self-glorifying nature that he always had time to do whatever he pleased. Because he always did what was required in no time at all.

When Death found him he was hovering over, of all things, a stupid high school football game. She was glad no mortal being could see them, not even the vampires and werewolves that infested this hole of a town, otherwise they would have seen a skeleton of a horse ride right through them to the giggling idiot high up on the roof.

"What on earth are you doing here!? Have you no idea how dangerous this is? And to pull this so close to the end! Sometimes I wish you would just think!" She boomed, once again glad that they could neither be seen nor heard.

"Shh! It's the championship game and the Timberwolves are actually leading!" He replied cooly with a wave of his hand. The four had been around since the beginning of time, so of course their chosen language had adapted with the times, something Conquest took easy to, but the same couldn't be said for Death.

"I cannot believe you right now... you know they're going to win so let's return home. You're influencing it for gods sake!"

Instead of replying he was instead fixated on not the game or influencing the players or even compromising the referee, but a girl. Not just any girl, but one of the cheerleaders. Death followed his gaze out of curiosity and when she realised the true reason as to why he was down there she let out an exaggerated sigh and pulled him to his feet easily.

"Her? Again?" She asked in amusement, looking back and forth between him and the mortal that had captured his interest. "You would risk everything, even your place on the white horse for this mortal?" She spat at him incredulously, only letting go of him when he wrenched himself from her grasp. "She isn't even pretty." She smirked, quirking a strangely perfectly shaped eyebrow up at him. This was one of the rare moments that she ever acted like the age she looked, it made him laugh.

"Jealous, Grim?" He teased, knowing full well that name would drive her up the wall. Which of course it did, and she had him sailing off the side of the building with a flick of her wrist. He landed with a resounding thud, the ground caving in slightly before it returned to normal, as if a supernatural being hadn't just fallen six stories and made the dirt concave momentarily. He picked himself up and brushed himself off, craning his head all the way back up to look up at the fiery bringer of death and laughed, quickly and childishly flipping her the bird before movement off in the distance caught his attention.

It was just a vampire.

Normally he just ignored that race altogether, after all they did help further Death's count and the number of her army, but it didn't mean he couldn't find their species an abomination in itself. Conquest would have just flown back up to the top of the building had the vampire not moved his head in time for him to see the poor unfortunate soul he was draining dry.

It was her.

In a matter of seconds he was across the lot and yanked the vampire back, practically throwing him across the parking lot before he turned to face the human who had slid to the ground in the absence of her attacker. He crouched beside her and frowned, holding her head up so he could inspect the damage. It was nothing he couldn't handle however, seeing as how beings such as himself were gifted with certain abilities. Steadying her head to the side he placed his hand over the bite marks on her neck and closed his eyes, his hands glowing a bright white light before fading away, taking her wound along with it. Once he removed his hand he had intended to walk away to deal with the vampire, only to be stopped by a hand grasping his wrist. He looked back down, startled to find that it was her hand and that she was awake and looking straight at him. 

"You... saved me?"

He nodded. "What's your name?"

A pause. "Caroline."

"Pleasure to meet you, Caroline."

She had opened her mouth to say something else but had lost conscious before she could utter another sound. He smiled to himself and let her head rest against the wall, taking her hand from his and placing it back in her lap. Mortal's could only see himself and his cohorts if they had come in direct contact with them, something which was a rare feat indeed considering neither of them ever dealt personally with the human's. Something that Conquest of course had no problem with doing.

"Well ain't this quaint?" He shot to his feet and whipped around at the sound of the voice, knowing exactly who it belonged to.

"Damon." He acknowledged in an empty tone.

"What brings you down here, white rider?"

"I forget the part where that was your business, Salvatore."

The vampire had the nerve to do that stupid little eye thing he does to his victims, it'd probably be a great service to humankind everywhere if he just plucked them out of his sockets right then and there.

"Touchy touchy. I was just trying to make conversation..." He pauses and looks over his shoulder at the human sprawled on the ground behind him. "Oh!... you don't like this one do you?" He asks, his tone thick with amusement, his annoying smile only growing at Conquest's silence, "You do! Oh this absolutely rich! Well I'm glad you stopped me when you did. I'd hate to be on your bad side. Caroline taste's-"

As soon as the words had left his mouth, Conquest had shot forward, a choked gasp leaving the vampire's mouth as he glances down at the hand that was sticking into his chest and squeezing his heart. It would have been pulled out in a matter of seconds had the appearance of his three companions appeared behind the vampire in a flash. The vampire could not see them but Conquest's gaze flickered to them questioningly.

War: "You know you can't kill him... he's important to us."

Famine: "If you kill him all of this will have been for nothing."

Death: "I will come for him soon enough, Conquest." She stepped towards him and placed her hand on the arm he had shoved into the vampire's chest. He was still gasping and gripping at his wrist in a futile attempt to remove it. "But it is not his time yet. If he dies now there will be no life at all after the armageddon."

Despite their words neither of them made a move to stop him themselves. His gaze moved from one to the other before settling finally on the Salvatore who was still glaring daggers at him as if it would do anything. With an annoyed growl he released the vampires heart and pulled his hand back and grasped the vampire by his jaw.

"You can leave now. I got your message." He told them, ignoring the look of confusion and general annoyance Damon was giving him. The others hovered for a bit, thinking that as soon as they left he would have ripped out Damon's heart anyway. If it weren't for the gentle hand Death placed on both their shoulders he was sure that they would have eventually wrestled him from the Salvatore. With one last lingering look from his companions, they all turned and mounted their steeds before riding back to the skies.

"If you're going to kill me can you do it preferably without going crazy?" Damon said with an uncanny amount of smugness in his voice. Seriously, the god complexes some of these vampires had were simply frustrating. Not all of them knew of the existence of the supernatural outside their own narcissistic species, but Damon Salvatore was one of the few who did, purely by accidents such as tonight. He had strangely gotten along with Death and Famine on occasion, but to him he was an annoyance he would like to get rid of. However, in lieu of actually being able to kill him, he quickly snapped his head back and let his body fall to the floor.

"Death will come for you soon little Salvatore."

Then without sparing another glance he walked back to the girl and picked her up, walking her back to where the game was still raging and set her back down on the bleachers. She would wake soon, whether or not she would remember him was up to her, but she wouldn't remember being attacked. That he made sure of. He kept his gaze on her, running his hand through her hair before he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, lingering for a moment before he turned and jumped back onto his horse. He turned back once more just in time to see the girl's eyes open in confusion, looking around as if searching for something, or someone, but before she could turn back to see him again he kicked his legs in and rode off.

A time would come when soon the human race would have to fight for their lives, to adapt, to survive.

It had only been a few months since... whatever this outbreak is had occurred. Suddenly the dead were coming back to life and eating every other living human being. When it had first started, Dan was in college with Daniel in California. They'd practically been diaper babies together and just seemed to go wherever the other went. Including across the country together. When the dead starting eating each other, they immediately stocked up on whatever they could, intending only on heading home. That was a few months ago.

On the way back to New York they had met up with a brunette living on her own, she took them back to where she was staying which was on the top of an old abandoned building. Accessible only by scaling the sides of the building that only the living could do. She was alone, and running out of supplies, so of course they insisted that she tag along with them. Well... that and because she had a killer bow and wasn't a terrible shot.

"Are you guys done chit-chatting or can we get out of here?" The girl in question piped up. Dan was close, he knew it. When they had gotten back to Brooklyn and found both their houses empty and looking like a tornado had blown through, they both feared the worst. Until Dan found a note from his sister that she had left for him in his room. Whether it was because she knew he would come looking for her or because it was just something she needed to do, he wasn't sure.

Dan, if you find this come to the Empire. We're still alive, and we're waiting for you.

Please come soon. I love you.

-Jenny

The minute he had found it he refused to sleep, he couldn't. His family were so close, they were waiting for him. They've been waiting for him. He refused to keep them waiting any longer. Dan had immediately led Daniel and Raven back out of the building, leading them straight towards the Empire. But they had gotten caught up in an old warehouse  that was currently overrun with walkers.

They were trapped.

Dan peaked over the table they hid behind and quickly counted the heads he could see.

"Twenty-eight." He muttered.

"What?" asked Daniel as Raven poked her head out to do the same, turning back with a worried look on her face as she glanced over at them.

"There's twenty-nine actually."

"Shut up."

"Jesus christ."

Dan looked between the three of them, he had a knife and a handgun. He had a rifle too but the ammo was sparse, besides it was really loud and not exactly good for close combat. Daniel had a handgun too, but he preferred using the double machete's he always had on him. Fancy bastard. Raven had a combat knife and a gun, but her bow was her weapon of choice. She still had a number of arrows, but that was only because she retrieved them whenever she let one loose. Still, there wasn't enough to kill all the walkers in the warehouse.

"Well..." He started, looking from Daniel to Raven and back again, "...let's go not die."

"Inspiring words, Humphrey." Raven smirked and readied her bow.

"Truly a man to be admired." Daniel chuckled as he gripped his machete's.

Dan shoved them both in the shoulders playfuly, counting to ten in his mind before he jumped over the table and ran his knife into the head of the closest walker. After that, everything was a blur. The movement of the walkers closing in on them, blood splattering all over the place as the three of them moved towards the exit. They didn't have to use their guns at all, these walkers were slow enough that they all could easily turn and get out of a grip, running their blades through their heads before advancing. Really the only exciting bit was when a walker grabbed Dan's ankle and tripped him up, but Daniel was easily on the fucker and had Dan up in no time. By the time they had made it out, all completely unscathed, the street was oddly but thankfully empty.

"You need to work on your left arm, Dan. You were slacking." Daniel laughed as he took point, swinging his machete's around like they were nothing. From where Dan stood he could hear his friend humming to himself, so he took the chance to linger back a little with Raven.

"Can I talk to you for a bit?" He asked.

She laughed softly and rolled her eyes, "You already are, dork."

Dan let his gaze wander to Daniel again who was still caught up in his own world before glancing back at Raven, taking a deep breath before he told her everything. He told her how to get to the Empire from there, which roads would be the safest to take, to take Jenny's note and his ring so that Jenny would know to trust them - even though the sight of Daniel would have been enough for her.

"Why are you telling me this?" She had asked once he was done, her brows knit together in worry. "Why can't you do it yourself?"

Dan bit his lip and sighed, his eyes wandering to Daniel who was still swinging his machete's around down the road. He brought his gaze back to Raven before he looked down and pulled up his shirt, showing the bite mark on his hip. It had stopped bleeding and it was small, but it was enough to know that he wouldn't be going with them to the Empire.

"Don't cry." He said as he heard her gasp and put her hand to her mouth, her eyes already welling up with tears. Dan swallowed thickly and placed his hands on her shoulders.

"Don't cry, please." He repeated, the sight of her crying making his eyes water too. She was trying not to, but her eyes remained on the spot where she had seen his bite. Dan placed his hands on either side of her face and made her look at him.

"You can't tell him okay? He'll go crazy. Promise me you won't tell me and that you'll find my sister. Can you promise me that?" He asked her, their gazes locked. At her silence he pulled her into a hug and held her tight, waiting for her arms to lock around him before he spoke again. "Promise me."

He heard her sniffling now and it almost broke him this time, but he forced himself not to. Daniel couldn't know anything was up. Dan felt her nod her head slowly after a moment and that was enough for him. He pulled away to look at her, wiping the tears from her face as he mouthed a 'thank you', the two of them jumping apart when the sound of Daniel's voice startled them.

"Come on slowpokes! We haven't got all day!" He was laughing and walking backwards, his gaze focused on the two of them. Dan looked over at Raven and smiled. She smiled back but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

She walked away, leaving Dan to stand there by himself.

They would be okay he told himself repeatedly. They'll find Jenny and his father and they'll be fine. Maybe even Blair and Nate would be there too. Dan wouldn't be surprised if Chuck was there too, the guy was a snake, if there was anyone that knew how to look out for himself it was Chuck. But the important thing was that they'd be alive. Raven would get along with his sister just fine, and Daniel would be... they're all going to be fine.