บท 101: 21. 2 Become 1.
Damon stood up, the creaking of the wooden floor beneath his feet echoed in the silence. He reached over and adjusted Mariella's drip, the soft beeping of the machine filling the room. He did not say anything until her eyes closed and she was out cold. A heavy sigh escaped his lips, a mix of frustration and regret. Once again, the same thing had happened - he, the monster, had claimed another young human girl's life.
He looked at her lifeless form, her skin ghostly white, giving off an eerie glow in the dimly lit room. Her lips were pale, bloodless, slightly apart, as if frozen in a gasp for air. Her dark eyes were half open, their gaze empty and glazed over. Her restrained hands were clenched loosely, evidence of her futile struggle for survival.
But Damon, the monster, felt no mercy. He had brutally savaged her neck, leaving behind his cruel teeth marks as a testament to his true nature. He didn't care to know her name, as he sent a cold order via the hive mind to come and dispose of her body. Unbeknownst to him, he was compelling the hive to believe that she was just another insignificant human, erasing her identity from their memories.
Mimi's subtle hint spread through the packbond, a collective consciousness that Damon was unaware of. Soon, everyone saw the girl as nothing more than a mere feeder, forgetting the horrors inflicted upon her. Damon didn't hesitate as he removed the remotes for her implant and collar, tucking them away inside the sheet that covered her lifeless body.
Doc and numbers five and seven arrived, following the protocol of pronouncing her death. Doc grunted and scanned the girl's wrist, confirming her life had ended. He nodded and walked away, his memory of her already fading. The Salvatores, unaffected by her death, carefully lifted her from the bed, wrapping her in the sheet.
Damon, caught up in his own guilt, forgot about the organ and collar as well. A few nurses entered the room, changing the sheets with practiced efficiency, unaware of the lifeless form they moved. Damon went to shower, his mind filled with conflicted thoughts. He gave terse orders to keep Mariella away for a few days and administer a special drug to erase her memory, sparing her from the trauma of witnessing his bloodlust.
Deep down, Damon knew he was cheating. Mariella had a right to know the truth, to see the monster he truly was. But he couldn't bear to let her remember the sight of him killing that innocent girl. Was his inability to forget her punishment for his monstrous actions?
After a refreshing shower, he made his way to his other companions. These two were insatiable, their desires like wild beasts. Nothing was too much for them as they eagerly explored exotic positions. Damon found himself fully consumed by their passion. They served as pleasurable distractions, helping him momentarily forget the haunting memories of her.
The pain etched on her face, the scent of her blood, her life force slowly fading away. The silence that followed her death was both beautiful and chilling, as if her soul was on the verge of departing her body - the moment of his triumph. It didn't happen instantly, but only when she was truly lifeless, beyond any hope of recovery. Something always left his victims when they departed, a part of them forever lost.
He savored his time with these two, their bodies entwined with his, leaving them breathless. After a week of passionate encounters, they lay on the bed, their bellies swollen with his seed. Their fertility heightened. They were on the brink of ovulation, soon to be pregnant. Now, it was time to continue breeding Mariella, coaxing her to ovulate and then breeding her once more.
I awoke in the dark forest, the cool morning air sending a shiver down my spine. As I rose to sit, I realized I was not alone. Three men lay nearby, their moans filling the eerie silence. My vampire instincts stirred within me, hunger gnawing at my insides. These men were nothing more than meals to me. Without hesitation, I lunged at the first man, a tall figure with black hair and a scarred face. His appearance meant nothing to me; it was his blood I craved. Sinking my fangs into his throat, I savored the taste as his life force drained away. He soon ceased his struggles, his body going limp, and his heartbeat faded into silence. There was still more to feed on.
Turning my attention to the next man, a blonde with a dazed expression, I felt no mercy. I sank my fangs into his throat, draining him completely. He was weaker, but his blood satisfied my bloodlust. Finally, I approached the last man, with brown hair. He too fell silent too soon, but his contribution helped quell the hunger within me.
Standing up, I searched around my wrist, remembering the chip Damon had mentioned. I dug it out, along with the remotes, hoping to gain control over the organs that plagued me. As I prepared to walk away, a voice stopped me in my tracks.
"Please, bite me, please..."
I turned to find the black-haired vampire standing, walking towards me with his head tilted, offering his neck. It was peculiar, but my vampire side rejoiced. Releasing calming pheromones, I watched as the other men woke up, all begging for my bite. I now had three pets to accompany me.
Together, we ventured into the depths of the forest. A safehouse awaited nearby, and with the bounty of blood in my belly, I could consider purchasing a new grand mansion for myself. The sensation of fullness and air moving in my belly filled me, but I did not dwell on it. I was going home.
Damon returned to Mariella, his mind consumed with regret. The scent of their forgotten meal lingered in the air, but he pushed it aside, knowing he couldn't bring another woman into the same bed where his precious Mariella lay. As he silently slipped into bed beside her, his expression remained neutral. He was in a contemplative mood, lacking his usual lustful demeanor that would typically lead him to ravish her without a second thought.
He let out a heavy sigh, the weight of his past actions still haunting him, even though her face had faded from his memory. The life he had mercilessly taken, driven by his insatiable hunger, tormented him. He couldn't understand why he had torn apart that poor soul when there were perfectly acceptable blood bags available. In those moments, he became a soulless killing machine.
Lost in his thoughts, Damon failed to notice that Mariella had awakened.
She spoke softly, her voice filled with concern, "What's wrong? I am pretty full, you know. We could..."
His response was a weary sigh. "Sure, I can have warm milk instead."
As he began to suckle, something felt off. He remembered the taste of the milk was unlike anything he had ever experienced, a power surging through him. This was not the same. But he dismissed it, focusing only on emptying Mariella's breasts. By the time he finished, she was writhing with desire, begging him to take her.
He climbed on top of her, his actions a mix of passion and cruelty, but deep down, he knew he had done wrong. Time had taught him that healing would come, despite the sting of his mistakes. Even though he was the leader of a breeding facility, a place filled with prisoners meant for breeding, he had once been a doctor himself, dedicated to saving lives. Taking them instead felt inherently wrong.
His usual diligence in breeding waned as he sensed Mariella's ovulation. She may have already conceived, or it would happen soon. Lost in his own thoughts, he rolled off her and stayed in bed, a departure from his brisk routine of showering and leaving. Instead, he stared at the ceiling, knowing that this momentary lapse would eventually fade with time. Time, the great healer, was something even an ancient creature like him yearned for. One would assume his heart would be hardened by now, but it wasn't. Not at all.
Mariella lay awake in the dimly lit room, the warmth of their recent encounter still lingering on her skin. Despite feeling tired and drugged, her senses were alert. She noticed Damon lying beside her, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. A strong desire to reach out and touch him washed over her, but she was held back by the restraints that bound her. Somehow, she understood Damon carried deep trauma with women, a pain that drove him to restrain them, to deny them even the slightest touch. Had he been abused himself? Or had his heart been shattered by someone in the past?
Her voice, tired, and thick from the drugs, pleaded with him. "Talk to me, Damon. Tell me what's troubling you. I want to understand, even though I can't change someone as old as you."
After a brief silence, he finally responded, his gaze still fixed on the ceiling.
"I am a monster," he confessed. "I have taken innocent lives, ripping their throats out, instilling fear in them. Damn it, I should know better. But I can't forget her, even though it's been over a week now. Well, over a week."
Mariella, her voice filled with empathy, reassured him. "It happens, Damon. We all lose control at times. I've been there too, killing innocents, tearing people apart with my bare hands, and finding pleasure in it."
Damon grunted, dismissing her prowess in underground fight clubs. "Princess, your brutal victories in those clubs are nothing compared to the true battle of wills. Real fighting is not about mindless brutality; it's about the dance between predator and prey. You might not see it, but I have. I have danced it for so long that it has become my nature. To be the predator, to take lives without remorse."
Mariella opened up about her own struggles. "My fight clubs help me rein in my temper, so I don't attack everyone who angers me. I have my rage control issues."
Damon chuckled mirthlessly. "I have encountered countless women over the centuries, far more than you can comprehend. But there are only a few who stick in my mind, those who got away, so to speak. And then there are those who lost their lives because I couldn't control my primal instincts."
Mariella spoke softly, her voice filled with understanding. "It's who you are, Damon. There's no use denying that part of yourself. It's important to accept all aspects of who you are, not just the ones you deem acceptable. If you try to isolate parts of yourself, you'll only end up slipping further into darkness."
Damon grunted in response, his curiosity piqued. "Tell me something, Mariella. Tell me a story."
The guard walked briskly outside of the room, his footsteps echoing in the corridor. He strained his ears, listening intently to the surrounding sounds. He shook his head, his expression filled with concern. The boss was unpredictable, always capable of surprising them. As Damon's personal bodyguard, he had been by his side for centuries, sharing in his trials and tribulations. He was almost as ancient as Damon himself, understanding the depths of his pain. He was not just a protector, but also his closest friend.
A dark-haired man approached. His presence commanding attention. Charles, the guard, recognized him instantly.
"Anything new, Charles?" the man asked.
Charles shook his head, his gaze filled with worry. "The boss is getting to know Mariella. They're engaged in conversation," he replied. "God knows he could use a friend, especially after the incident last week. It always affects him deeply."
Adam grunted in acknowledgment. Damon had saved him, and he owed his life to him. Charles and Adam would remain loyal until their last breaths.
Day after day, Damon and Mariella spoke, their conversations delving into their pasts. Mariella slowly revealed her sins to him, while Damon shared his own painful experiences. It took five days for Damon to release her restraints, but he kept her drugged. Surprisingly, Mariella allowed it, sensing that she needed to approach this delicate situation with caution. She wanted to give Damon the space to heal at his own pace, not to frighten him away. She wanted to protect him, support him, and be there for him.
For Damon, it was a new sensation, one he hadn't felt in a long time. He could feel something stirring within him, breaking through the walls of his hollow shell. It was both terrifying and exhilarating. Could he truly experience emotions again? Was he deserving of such feelings? He had grown so accustomed to loneliness that he had abandoned hope of finding someone. But now, his captive, Mariella, had not only captured his body but also his heart.
Mariella could not lie to herself. She loved him, even though he did not reciprocate her feelings. But her love for him surpassed everything else in her life. The ache she felt when he was not by her side was excruciating, almost unbearable at times. And when she was close to him, she felt a sense of completeness.
She loved him with her entire being, a feeling so encompassing that it scared her. As Damon held her tightly each night, she could feel his presence enveloping her. She could feel him, intimately, as his cock was tightly locked in her womb breeding her, his life-giving fluid filling her fertile depths.
And in those moments, while he slept, she whispered to him, "I love you, Damon Salvatore, with my whole heart and then some."
Resting her head against his chest, she listened to the steady rhythm of his calming heart. Those beats brought her a sense of security she had never experienced in her wild life. And so she slept, feeling fully safe in his arms. It was in that state of true love and safety that she wanted to be.
Damon heard her confession, and it awakened something deep within his heart. The feeling spread through him, reaching his soul as if it were singing for the first time in centuries.
And with his telepathy telling him she could not hear him, he whispered to her, knowing she had passed out from the drugs, "I love you too, darlin'. You are my soul, my everything."
Their love, pure and strong, shattered the spell that Freya had cast upon them. Slowly, hour by hour, the spell unraveled until it was fully gone. And now, it was time for them to face the reality of what had happened.
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