"I would always choose you, don't you ever forget that."
"Why me?"
"Because I love you, god damnit!"
In which Blair Winchester comforts a broken hearted witch on a night she needed someone most and Lizzie Saltzman unravels herself for the sake of ne...
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tendencies to lose control
••••
A tale of the wicked begins with my death, a story so far tangled in doom that it's overflowing with curses and here's a curse to start my story off.
A young girl, murdered at the hands of her father, a purpose for power. He drained the life from his daughter so he could gain power but the only power he attained was the curse of Blair Winchester, the curse that will haunt him until his death and infinitely torture him. One that slowly weakens your heart and eats away at you from the inside out.
I wish I could explain more, but,
The stench of fresh blood fills my nostrils, tickling my senses and awakening my thirst, crawling down my throat and painting my insides with rage that leaves my fangs bared and aching with hunger.
The notion of hope withers through my mind that my heart would continue it's steady rhythm of a beat per second to remind me that I am still here, the human in me, but that is, if my heart even existed. Father told me, "your thirst always comes first, don't you ever consider feelings over thirst!" but as I lift the withering form into the air and study the helpless grey eyes and shrill screams, I couldn't help but lower them to the surface of the earth and grasp their shoulders to prevent from escaping, staring deep into their soul.
"You will forget this ever happened, go home and tell your parents that you're safe. Never cross through this side of town again, it doesn't exist to you." I compel the terrified human and sigh softly as I witness them become engulfed by the trees and darkness surrounding myself.
So much for a midnight snack.
I make my way back to the Salvatore school and sneak back into the halls undetected with a proud smirk on my lips when an auburn hair girl blocks my way, seemingly to have appeared out of thin air.
A scoff leaves my throat as I glare down at the shorter girl, "What the hell do you want, Hope?"
Her eyebrow quirks at my tone and she studies the condition of my shoes, which gave away my little late night adventure. "Dr Saltzman made curfew for a reason." She states dryly, crossing her arms over her chest somewhat passive aggressively.
This girl knows nothing about minding her own business. If she didn't stick her snooty nose everywhere, I would try harder to be nice to her but being bitchy came naturally within an alarmed distance. Then again, you could call us friends, to a certain extent.
"And that's why Satan made me so I can break curfew for the kids who are too afraid to do so." I muster a snarky smile and step around her, leaving her speechless and heading for the stairs but a door clicks open and I'm frozen in my tracks.
