The night after my little chat with Damon, the hunger was a screaming beast. His challenge, his knowing gaze, had only sharpened my resolve. Elena wasn't just a fleeting craving; she was a target, a means to a greater power. But one didn't just walk up to a doppelgänger and drain her. That would be messy, and attracting unwanted attention from the town's resident vampire-hunting council, and from the Salvatores, was not on my agenda. Not yet, anyway. Patience. An Original knew patience.
I found my dinner a few towns over, a sleepy diner with a lone, weary trucker nursing a cup of coffee. He was an easy mark, his mind already half-asleep. A quiet compulsion, a fleeting moment of bliss for me, a forgotten memory for him. I left him slumped against the counter, perfectly harmless, just a little more tired than usual. The rich, warm rush of human blood temporarily silenced the beast, but the thought of Elena, the distinct, shimmering aura of her blood, still lingered. It was a promise.
Back in Mystic Falls, the next few days settled into a strange rhythm of high school normalcy and ancient vigilance. I found myself surprisingly adept at navigating the social currents. My centuries of observation, of learning human behaviors and desires, made it easy to play the part. I even found myself genuinely enjoying some of the interactions.
"Laura! Over here!"
It was Caroline, waving me over at lunch. She'd somehow appointed herself my personal welcoming committee. I joined her, Bonnie, and Elena at their usual table. The conversation flowed, light and trivial – upcoming dances, class gossip, typical teenage angst. I listened, absorbing it all, cataloging their weaknesses, their loyalties.
"So, Laura, what kind of music are you into?" Caroline asked, ever the social director.
"I have a rather eclectic taste," I replied, a small smile playing on my lips. "I've seen many eras of music come and go. From the intricate lute melodies of the 1400s to the rebellious jazz of the 1920s. Even some of the more… aggressive sounds of the last few decades." I caught Bonnie's eye. She was watching me, a faint frown on her face, a subtle energy shimmering around her. She definitely felt something.
"The 1400s?" Elena mused, a polite, curious smile. "Wow, you really love history."
"You could say that," I said, a private amusement lighting my ancient eyes.
Flashback: Bohemia, 1490s
The feast was a cacophony of laughter, clinking chalices, and the rich scent of roasting boar. I sat with my temporary coven, a group of nomadic vampires who had found fleeting peace in the Bohemian forests. Life was simpler then, more brutal, but simpler. No founding families, no formal councils, just the primal hunt and the constant threat of angry villagers with pitchforks.
"Another goblet of wine, Laura?" one of them, a grizzled old-world vampire named Niklaus, offered. Not the Niklaus, but a charming rogue nonetheless.
"Thank you, but I find the blood of the living far more intoxicating," I replied, my gaze drifting to the servants scurrying about. I remembered the sensation of the hunt, the pure, unadulterated thrill of the chase under a moonlit sky. There was a raw honesty to it that the modern world lacked.
Laura's POV (continued)
Back in the cafeteria, the bell for the next class rang, jolting me back to the present. My casual mention of centuries past had gone unnoticed, or dismissed as a quirky personality trait. All but Bonnie. Her gaze lingered, a flicker of suspicion in her deep eyes. She was dangerous. I'd have to tread carefully with the Bennetts.
Stefan, of course, was never far from Elena. I'd seen him shadowing her, his jaw perpetually tight, his eyes darting. He was trying to protect her, a noble, futile effort. Damon, on the other hand, was more brazen. He'd occasionally appear at lunch, exchange snarky remarks with Stefan, and cast lingering, calculating glances my way. He was playing his own game, trying to figure me out.
"So, Laura," Damon said one afternoon, appearing out of nowhere beside my locker, making me jump slightly – a feigned human reaction. "Still enjoying your stint as a high school student?"
"It has its moments," I replied, closing my locker door with a deliberate click. "Some things never change, though. The drama, the pettiness… it's all rather familiar."
"Indeed," he agreed, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Speaking of familiar, have you, by any chance, encountered any old faces recently? Ones that perhaps didn't quite make it into the history books?"
I met his gaze, a slight, enigmatic smile touching my lips. "The world is full of old faces, Damon. It just depends on how long you've been looking."
He leaned in conspiratorially. "True. But some faces… they leave a more lasting impression. Like a certain doppelgänger, for instance." His voice was a low purr, a challenge.
The hunger stirred, hot and urgent. "Elena is a sweet girl. Seems innocent enough." My words were laced with a hidden meaning that I knew only he would grasp.
"Innocence is often a fragile thing in this town, Laura," Damon retorted, his eyes flashing. "Especially when certain ancient forces decide to make a new home here."
I just smiled, a knowing, mischievous glint in my own eyes. "Perhaps I'm just here for the extracurriculars."
He chuckled, but it was a dry, unamused sound. "I'm sure you are. Just try not to get too attached to your new… classmates." With that, he turned and strolled away, leaving me with his veiled threat.
Attached? Never. Useful? Absolutely.
The night after, the moon was full, casting long, eerie shadows across the cemetery. This was my preferred feeding ground when I wanted a bit more… interaction. The air was thick with the scent of decay and, more enticingly, the faint, lingering scent of human visitors who often walked through during the day. I was patient, waiting.
A figure emerged from the trees, a young man, clearly lost, phone clutched in his hand, muttering to himself. He was looking for a shortcut, probably. Perfect.
I moved silently, like a whisper in the wind, appearing directly in his path. He gasped, dropping his phone.
"Lost?" I asked, my voice soft, laced with a subtle compulsion.
"Uh, yeah. My phone died. Trying to find the main road." He looked nervous, sensing something off, but unable to pinpoint it.
"Allow me to help," I purred, stepping closer. My fangs extended, a satisfying prickle at my gums. "It's a beautiful night for a stroll, isn't it? So many secrets buried here. So much life, just waiting to be… discovered."
His eyes widened, and he tried to back away, a flicker of fear in his eyes. Too late. I moved with supernatural speed, too fast for him to react. My hand clamped over his mouth, stifling his scream. I pulled him into the deeper shadows, savoring the frantic beat of his heart against my hand. The warmth of his fear-laced blood was already making my mouth water. This wasn't just survival; it was art.
Flashback: London, 1888
The fog clung to the gaslit streets, a perfect shroud. I was following a young courtesan, her laughter echoing a little too loudly in the alleyway. The city was a playground, teeming with life, full of shadows where a creature like me could thrive.
A man, portly and red-faced, stumbled past me, reeking of cheap gin. He was an easy mark. I led him into a darker cul-de-sac, his drunken protestations barely a whisper before I struck. It was less about the hunger then, more about the thrill. The feeling of absolute control, the fleeting moment of power over another life. That night, the newspapers would be full of Jack the Ripper. I smiled, a private amusement. No one ever suspected a woman. Especially not one so perfectly dressed.
Laura's POV (continued)
I released the young man, his eyes glazed over, his pulse a faint flutter. Just enough to leave him alive, but thoroughly drained. He wouldn't remember a thing, just a sudden exhaustion and a strange sense of peace. I wiped my mouth, a satisfied hum resonating deep within me. The hunger was temporarily sated, but the thought of Elena's unique blood, the power it promised, still pulsed.
My interactions with the students and the Salvatores gave me the perfect cover. I was the new girl, a little mysterious, perhaps, but ultimately harmless. They underestimated me. They always did. But I knew exactly what I was, and what I wanted. Elena Gilbert. She was a prize to be claimed, a key to an even greater power. And I would get her. One mischievous, manipulative step at a time. The game had truly begun.
Laura's truly embracing her darker side now! What kind of mischief do you think she'll get into next to get closer to Elena?