infatuation ✓

1.

Chicago

IT'S THE DETAILS THAT MAKE THE TWENTIES LEGENDARY. Word was out that the Ripper of Monterrey was lonely and bored, so he ventured out into Chicago to have a little fun. His adventures began in a bar known to the public as Gloria's Bar. His green eyes glinted with mischief as he scanned the bar, watching the dancing humans with a certain peculiarity that anyone who'd witness his glance would shiver in place. What caught his eye was a gorgeous brunette swaying in the middle of the crowd, dancing alone. She moved gracefully as if she'd done this a million times before.

He did what any man would do and approached the girl. He took two drinks from a tray a waiter held and walked up to her. She stopped dancing when she sensed his presence, rolling her eyes. Her dark eyes almost rolled to the back of her head when she heard his voice behind her. In an arrogant manner, he twirled one of the drinks in his hand. "By all means, continue dancing. Who am I to put a stop to a beautiful girl's fun?"

She put her hand on her hip, her fingertips pressing into her dress's uncomfortable fabric. She rolled her eyes once more and declined his offer of the drink. She noticed the red stain on his black tuxedo and almost laughed. Amateur move. "Be careful, Mr. Salvatore, you're wearing your date. She must've been lovely."

Before she walked off, he grabbed her arm to stop her. He asked, "Who are you?"

"Many have asked that same question," she mused. "Not one of them knew the answer. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a bottle of champagne calling my name."

The beauty sauntered off, the flirt in her making sure she swayed her hips as she walked away from the Ripper. His reputation preceded him, but she wasn't impressed. In her time on this earth, she'd met many vampires who resembled the Salvatore's ways. They just didn't have a legacy. As she drank the alcohol presented to her by the bartender, she saw a familiar face enter the bar. Not wanting to face him at that time of day, she moved her hair so that it was covering her face and continued drinking the bottle of champagne.

It didn't do much to help, seeing that the man approached her. A smirk graced his features as he sat in the seat next to her, greeting her with the same sour expression that was on her face. He cleared his throat, demanded the bartender give him a glass of some rich alcohol the girl couldn't pronounce the name of and turned his head to the beauty in gold. "Hello, Alondra Rose."

Figurative daggers were thrown at him by her eyes as she downed the rest of the bottle in her hand, slamming it on the bar when she was done. "What do you want, Klaus? Want me to cover your ass once more while your father hunts you down? Oh, wait; he isn't your actual father, is he?" He was speechless as she continued to taunt him. She was the only one both brave and strong enough to actually stand a chance against the Hybrid. "As much as I'd love to poke holes into your already big enough ego, I have humans to drain, bodies to drop."

Before she had the chance to leave, gunshots rang throughout the bar, some wooden bullets hitting her in the leg. She ignored them and smirked, knowing what this meant. He examined her expression and sighed in anger an disappointment. "You knew he'd attack and you didn't warn us."

The smirk remained on her face as she pulled the bullets from her leg, the wound healing faster than a normal vampire. Then again, she wasn't a normal vampire. After she was done, she wiped her bloody hands on the front of his tuxedo and grinned menacingly. "Run, you coward. I'll be sure to revel in the fear running through your veins."

With one last glare, he slammed his fist on the bar and stormed out, but not before compelling the Ripper he'd met seconds before speaking to Alondra. Speaking of the brunette beauty, she was already halfway out of Chicago. Although she was the one to call the feared Mikael, she didn't trust him not to kill her the second he got his hands on the girl. Just like the vampire who lived to hunt his own kind, she was feared. Of course, her name wasn't available to those who feared her, but they knew of her and what she was, which ignited the fear in many supernatural beings.

But, as someone she once knew said, fear is the equivalent to respect; if they won't obey you, make them fear you up until the moment they do. She'd even go as far as to say she was feared more than the infamous Niklaus Mikaelson, the werewolf-vampire Hybrid. Power equals fear, and Alondra Rose was one powerful specimen.