The Supernatural Diaries {Book One}

You're Undead To Me: Damon I

"Matthew! Matt, stay with me. Please, don't leave me! Don't leave, mio amati," Damon sobbed.

"I told you that vampires and hunters don't mix," another voice that sounded identical to Dean's choked out. "We're destined to destroy each other."

"No, I don't believe that," Damon cried.

"This time you were the death of me," Dean's doppelganger gargled. "But next time, I'll be the death of you!"

With a start, my eyes shot open, as I made a pained noise in the back of my throat. I looked around groggily trying to pull myself upright and when I failed, I was too weak to try again. So, I slumped back against the wall, letting my arms fall loosely on top of my chest. That's when I felt it.

My ring. It was missing.

"Morning, brother," Stefan greeted from the other side of the door. I mumbled under my breath. "Where's my ring?" "You won't be needing it anymore," Stefan answered.

Of course, he has it. Why wouldn't he?

My vision began to blur, and I knew whatever awareness I had was soon going to fade away. "How long have I been here?" I asked.

"Three days," he responded. "Although you almost died two days ago, and you were in and out of consciousness for the rest."

"What're you talkin' about," I slurred.

"You were poisoned with Umraëc, Damon," Stefan explained. "Someone tried to murder you, and if Zach hadn't fixed you, you'd be dead."

I frowned in confusion. Umraëc poisoning? Is that why I felt so shitty? All at once, I remembered what happened at the Founder's Party. More specifically, I remembered what happened to me at the party. A jolt of fear raced down my spine, as images of the Dean look-alike flashed through my mind's eye.

I must admit, he played the part of my ex-boyfriend well. At least well enough that he had my brother and the pipsqueak fooled. But not me. I don't care how smart he thought it was by taking control of Dean's body, I would still be able to suss him out.

"That conniving bastard," I cursed. "He did this to me."

"Who did?" Stefan inquired. "Damon, do you know who did this?" I remained silent, as I gave my brother a withering glare. "Okay, fine. Don't tell me, it's not like I'm trying to save your life or anything," Stefan griped.

I scoffed sarcastically. "So what exactly am I doin' here, Stefan?"

Stefan quirked his lips up solemnly. "During the Dark Ages when a vampire's actions threatened to expose or bring harm upon the entire race, they would face judgment," he lectured. "They sought to re-educate them rather than to punish them."

I gasped dryly, and said, "You know what will happen if I don't... feed on blood." "You'll grow weaker and weaker," Stefan acknowledged. "And eventually you won't be able to move or speak. In a week, your skin will desiccate, and you'll mummify. A living corpse, unable to hurt anyone."

I sneered defiantly at my brother. "So what, you're just gonna leave me in the basement, forever?" Stefan tilted his head nonchalantly, as his steely eyes peered through the eye slot. "I've injected you with enough vervain to keep you weak," Stefan asserted. "Once your circulation stops, I'll move you to the family crypt, and then in 50 years, we can re-evaluate."

"I'm stronger than you think," I declared, letting out a strained chuckle. "You always have been," Stefan agreed. "But you're not stronger than the vervain, and we both know it. I'm sorry; it didn't have to be this way." Then, he turned and walked away, leaving me to rot.