The Return of Damon Salvatore ⚜ TVD

trois - string of thought(s)

A/N : Changing up the POV again~
P.S; Thank you for the votes! I really do appreciate them. (つ˘◡˘)づ♥
Do comment, doves. 🕊
Also this chapter is an overall mess imo. I could say it's because Damon's thought process in this chapter is messy and all over the place due to his emotions...but nah, it's probably just my sucky writing lmao. Unedited bitchesss ^^

iii - String of Thought(s)

『first pov』

WHITE NOISE FLOODED my ear as a long silence prevailed over the cellar like a canopy of trees. Subtle, but you know it's there. I breathe out unevenly, feeling a bitter lump forcing its way from my stomach into my throat. My eyes burned as I forced down the lump as it was not the time. Tears begin flooding down by cheeks unceremoniously. No...No, I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to...
The once silent room began lighting up as sobbing rang out and reverberated against the concrete walls. Now, the white noise was replaced with the sound of my crying and my despair. I much preferred the former.

My breath got caught in the back of my throat as I shakily but tenderly cupped the cheeks of the man below me. "I'm sorry..." A hoarse voice unlike mine sounded. It's now I've realized my throat's horrible state. Me crying probably didn't help matters. My head lowers in despair. My chest tightens in response and I gasp for air every few seconds with tears sliding down my cheeks like a broken water tap. The only way I kept from losing myself was my anger. I was angry, livid even. I hated the situation I was forced into unknowingly. I hated whichever power in the universe that decided to move my soul into a fictional character. I hated that I was powerless against it.

My breathing unevens out as I grit my teeth out of frustration and exhaustion. I steadied myself against the floor as my body towered over the limp body below me. I stare blankly at the pale face of the man I murdered. The man I killed. The man I killed. Killed..Kill...I killed. My thoughts reverberated in my head, sounding like an endless cycle of echoes. Two teardrops stained my t-shirt, practically non-existent amongst the scarlet red. I bunched up my shirt, staining it even further, not that I cared. I gripped the t-shirt so hard I almost ripped it. I needed a place to vent. In a imbalanced rhythm, my chest heaves up and down, heavy and weighed down by guilt. This made it a struggle to maintain a steady stream of air.

My fingers twitched suddenly as an almost animalistic urge to kill went through me like a gust of wind. I shut my eyes in response, simultaneously shutting down the idea. After the idea had successfully been removed from my brain, I glance down at the face of the man I had killed. The lump I forced down appeared again, and I closed my eyes desperately, springing out a wetness in the eyes, but no tears. Turns out I already exhausted those. This―I did this―Fuck―Don't puke―
My thoughts spinned like the fastest whirlwind, making my head throb in pain.

Like a movie trailer, everything passed by so fast for my mind to comprehend. It seemed so much like a dream...like it isn't real- but this was real. This was real. I killed Zack Salvatore.

Me.

I did it.

As the thought finally sunk in like a damaged boat sinking to the depths of the sea, my body jolted backwards as if I had been electrocuted. I stared bewildered at the mess I had made. The blood...the blood. I covered the bottom half of my face in a hurry, trying to keep off the tantalizing smell. It was disgusting. It was delicious. My fingers twitched again as the animalistic urge to kill crashed down onto me like a tsunami. This time, it took all of my willpower to shut this desire into the deepest crevices of my heart. A more powerful and hungry thought devoured the remaining space and occupied my mind like a parasite.

I need to go.

The second the thought emerged, I look briefly at the younger-but-older-looking-Salvatore and grimaced. This―survival or not―is wrong. Even though I know that, I couldn't change my mind. This didn't help make me feel any better about the situation―and myself. A chuckle so bitter pierced the room as an upsetting thought came to mind. Guess I'm not any different than Adrian.

A few minutes passed by, with me staring blankly at the dead body at my feet. The blood had dried―for the most part. My face felt taut as the blood caked on me like a second skin. The blood in my mouth ― however much I had spit out ― still had traces in there. I don't know why I haven't gone. Was it guilt? Was it my sense of morality? I wasn't a good person before I died―but that doesn't mean I was bad either. I was just like any other law-abiding citizen before my untimely death. As a normal person who hadn't seen this much blood in his life―let alone murder― it was easy to understand why I was reluctant to step away. It felt wrong. Yet, a part of me―the cold and unfeeling part of me―couldn't help but dismiss it in favor of survival.

My fingers cut into my palm as I was split into two. Heaving a sigh, I shake my head defeatedly. Regardless, I was still a human inside. It was human instinct to want to live. To survive. I couldn't dismiss the core instinct carved into my bones. I couldn't...and I wouldn't.

I take another look around the cellar and by the time Stefan arrived to see Zach dead, I was gone.

*Just a reminder: This isn't a self-insert/reader story. The main reason for switching up POVs and me writing the first POV is for experimentation. Just to see what my strengths and weaknesses are. So, any of you who haven't read the disclaimers chapter, I highly recommend you do as I explain more in depth there.
P.S: Technically the main character is my OC, just in Damon's body sooo sorry to disappoint but this ain't you (the reader) lol.