descent | 𝐊𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐒 [HIATUS]

𝟏𝟖

𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓
﹙ 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒏 ﹚
࿐ ࿔ ✧˖*°
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Rory, as an impulsive young girl does, spends her night drinking her life away. She doesn't remember how she gets to Rousseau's, only that she's there. She's on her umpteenth shot of the night, the alcohol sliding down her throat a reoccurring feeling that she gets used to. She hates being compelled. She hates it, she hates it so much. It brings her back to Mystic Falls, it brings her back to when she felt crazy and was constantly doubting herself. Being in Elijah's grip, forced to stare into his eyes as he compelled her into surrender was a feeling she had never thought she'd feel again since turning into a vampire.

It reminds her how truly powerless she is when she sleeps under the same roof as the world's Original vampires.

The next thing she realises is how hungry she is. The glass in her hand hits the table, and her drunken eyes flickers in and out of focus as she scans the area. She doesn't realise it, but she always gets hungry when she's drunk. It's why her feeding blackouts usually happen in bars—because she drinks and she drinks and she drinks until she needs something else to take the pain away.

She clambers off the barstool, grabbing her jacket as she slings it over her shoulders. "Excuse me!" the bartender yells at Rory's back as she makes her way towards the door. "Excuse me, you didn't pay for your drinks!"

"Put it on my tab," Rory responds, pushing the door open. It's pouring rain outside, downright torrential.

"You don't have a tab open, ma'am," the bartender says.

Rory turns to face the male that stands behind the bar. Her lips upturn into a smirk. "Fine," Rory sighs as she leans against the doorway. "Come outside. I left my wallet in the car," she replies. The bartender rolls his eyes, whispering to his co-worker. "I'm half a second away from just leaving. I'm sure there are plenty of bars in Bourbon Street that I can go to if I get banned from this one."

The bartender sighs, flicking his towel over his shoulder. He ends up stepping out from behind the bar, Rory giving him an approving smile. She leaves Rousseau's, turning to her right. An alley is stood right beside the establishment, and when she feels his presence behind her, she enters the small, darkened space.

"Uh," the bartender says. "You said you left your wallet in the car."

Rory turns to face him. Veins grow under her eyes as red fills her sight, her fangs extending. "I lied," she responds. Before the bartender can even react, Rory lunges at him, slamming his back against the brick wall.

A loud scream tears through his throat as Rory's teeth tears through his carotid artery, his blood filling her mouth. He struggles against her grip, but she's stronger, keeping him pinned against the bricks. Rain pours down on both of them, silencing his cries from anybody passing by the alley.