In Mystic Falls, nothing stays buried forever-especially not secrets.
Elena Gilbert always believed she was an only child. But when her long-lost twin sister, Keira, is dragged into town under dangerous circumstances, everything changes.
Raised in t...
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The Original Red Flag
Suddenly, with a deep breath of air, I'm back in the world of the living—sort of. I'm lying on what feels like a dirty wooden floor. It's hard, splintered, and reeks of damp rot and old blood. I keep my eyes shut, focusing on the sounds around me.
I hear a heartbeat thudding in someone's chest and blood rushing through veins. My stomach clenches. The breathing grows faster—whoever it is, they're scared. I don't dare move.
"What do you want?" a girl asks desperately in a familiar voice.
The man shushes her. "Please, I'm hurt," he pleads.
"I know," another man says with a heavy English accent. "Just a taste."
A vampire. Had to be. My neck aches—snapped clean, and only another vampire would be fast enough to take me down before I could fight back.
"No!" the girl screams.
"Trevor!" another voice snaps—female, also English, and clearly in charge. "Control yourself."
"Buzzkill," the man mutters, footsteps fading as he leaves.
I stay perfectly still, hoping they'll forget I'm even here. But the vervain burns through my veins—weakening me, numbing my strength. They injected me. No way I can fight like this.
"What do you want from me?" the girl asks again.
"Oh my God, you look just like her," the bossy woman says.
"But I'm not, please, whatever you—"
"Be quiet!"
"But I'm not Katherine. My name is Elena Gilbert. You don't have to do this," she says, still clinging to hope.
The woman laughs. "We know you're not. She's over there."
Over there?
"Then why do you need me?" Elena cries.
"I said, be quiet."
"What do you want?" Elena asks again—and then I hear it. A slap. Her body hits something hard.
"I want you to be quiet."
After a beat, the woman's footsteps leave the room. I wait until it's quiet, then slowly rub my neck and let out a groan. It still burns.
I push myself up, sluggish from the vervain but steady enough to move. The room is almost bare—dusty, broken furniture, a table with books scattered on it, and a grimy old sofa.
That's when I see her.
Elena.
Human. Bleeding. Lying with her back to me.
I step closer, quiet as I can, but the scent hits me like a truck—warm, sweet blood. My throat tightens. My fangs nearly drop.
