Augustine Girl. (DAMON SALVATORE X READER)

Chapter 38 - Been looking for a long time.

"Over the past 2 months, there's been a trail of bodies in a line through Tennessee, at these points." I say, pointing at a few spots on the map trailing down through the states.

"Well, we should go investigate, they're probably Klaus's victims." Elena suggests.

"You're going anywhere, if we come across Klaus, and he sees you, we'll all end up dead." Damon tells her.

She sighs.

"We're going to go check it out with Alaric." Damon pats me on the shoulder and walks out, motioning for me to follow.

I sigh and do.

-----

We enter the house.

"It smells like fresh blood in here." Damon says.

I nod.

We see blood splatters everywhere.

"These are Klaus's victims?" Alaric asks.

I nudge the dead girl's head off with my foot. "Nope, they're Stefans."

Damon calls out from the other room. "These look like Elliot's!"

I enter the room and see body parts everywhere, the walls literally painted red with blood.

"Yup, gotta love a ripper Elliot." I sigh.

Flashback, 1747

I walk in and see Elliot using a person's arm to paint the fucking walls with blood.

"Um, Elliot?"

He looks at me unamused, and continues.

He was going through a nasty breakup, I just didn't know it would hurt him like that.

Present Day.

"So Elliot is a psychopath." Alaric concludes.

I nod slightly.

"Okay, time to burn it down." Damon says as he starts pouring the gas can he was holding around the house.

Once he's finished, he lights it on fire.

We leave, and never look back.

-----

We make it back home after another long and slightly annoying drive with Damon.

I see a party being set up by guess who?

Bonnie? Nah.

Elena? No.

Caroline? You bet.

"What are we doing in my house?" Damon asks.

"Elena's birthday party!" Caroline smiles, we forgot it was her birthday.

"Oh, okay." I say.

I should probably change out of this blood soaked shirt.

I walk up to my room for when I stay there and see I have no good clean shirts.

I smirk and walk to Damon's room to steal one of his.

"Hey! What are you doing?" He questions.

"Stealing one of your shirts." I say casually as I shut the drawer holding his favorite shirt.

He glares at me. "Why?"

"I don't have any here that are clean, and the 3 that are clean are from like 2 decades ago, when I lived here." I say.

He huffs.

"Whatever." He shakes his head and walks out of the room.

I walk back to my room to change.