New Beginning

Chapter Forty-three

*A/N: Hey all! Please leave a review. We are nearing the end. I haven't completely decided if I will write a continuance to Elandra's story, but there will be plenty to work on if I do. I hope you guys decide to stick with me. For now, I hope you enjoy! *

Elena drove to the Boarding House in relative silence, her hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles were pale. She stared straight ahead, squinting in concentration as she tried to ignore the fear coiling deep in her chest. There was no doubt that she was far more nervous for the encounter with the Salvatores than she had been the Mikaelsons - the oddity in that thought brought an amused curl to my lips. Turning onto the curved drive, Elena shuddered, her body bowing toward the wheel as she released a sigh of anxiety-ridden exhaustion.

"Are you sure we have to do this? Shouldn't this be Stefan's responsibility?" She parked the car and turned in her seat to face me, her fingers drumming on the steering wheel anxiously. "Why do we have to be the ones to make sure Damons not treating Mystic Falls and the surrounding counties like his personal buffet?"

I laid my head back, turning toward her as I opened the door, my expression lax. "Because those with the most power have the most responsibility. It might suck, especially on days like this, but that's the way it is," I murmured as I exited the car.

Elena's head popped over the other side with a cocked brow, her lips puckered in an attempt to hide a smile. "Didn't Spider-man say that?"

My chest heaved as I laughed, my nose burning with humor. "Elena! You should have your geek card revoked. No, he did not. Uncle Ben said something similar though; at least you were close."

Elena rolled her eyes, pushing open her door with a huff and gliding from the car. "Geek card? As if I ever wanted one of those. You're the geek in the family."

"Whatever, miss perfect doppelganger."

Elena kicked my ankle as she joined my side, and I stumbled toward the house, throwing a glare over my shoulder. She wore a satisfied smirk, and I smiled at the joy shining in her eyes. Approaching the porch, we noticed the propped open door and the happy air stilted, becoming heavy with dread. Elena reached out, pushing open the door with a single touch. The silence inside the usually vibrant home was eerie and my skin prickled with foreboding as we made our way into the foyer. Lifting my hand, my fingers sparkled and twitched with unease. The table inside the foyer was smashed to pieces with large shards of splintered wood scattered about, a single piece jutting out of the wall to our right. Elena wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing her elbows in an attempt to ease the tension building in her stiff limbs. I stepped in front of her as we walked into the parlor, my frantic gaze searching for any sign of life. The strong stench of blood and bile assaulted our senses as we headed into the room, and Elena reared back, her hand coming up to cover her nose.

Her face twisted in a grimace of disgust. "Oh god!" she cried, her tone laced with revulsion.

The scene in front of us was one born of fury, devastation, and lack of restraint. The bodies of young women littered the room, their throats ripped open or hearts savagely removed. The mahogany wood surrounding the fireplace was dripping in crimson, the fire within crackling ominously. The french windows were stained red and the sunlight streaming in only enhanced the destruction. The lamps and pictures on the surrounding tables were broken, glass shattered, and scattered about the floor.

I walked into the room, my heart thumping heavily in my chest as I took in the chaos. As I was scanning the empty unseeing faces of the victims at our feet, Elena pulled me to a stop, her nails digging into my skin. Turning with a wince, I glared over my shoulder with my nose scrunched up in agitation. Her large eyes were round with surprise and fear tinted her cheeks pink. She inhaled sharply and I followed her gaze, looking at the pair of sofas on the other side of the room. Sitting with his head lowered, a small trembling girl at his feet, was Stefan Salvatore; The Ripper of Monterey. I froze, acutely aware of my human sister only inches behind me. In front of us could be arguably one of the most dangerous vampires in existence, not to mention his unhinged brother, whom we had yet to find, and I had decided to walk into their home for a nice afternoon chat. Shit.