(CHAPTER ELEVEN :
LOOK WHO'S STALKING)

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BEING PARANOID WAS IN my blood. For some reason, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched as I sat on the curb in hopes of catching a cab. In such a hectic place, I was struggling to get the attention of any drivers. Following the events of the previous night, I decided to escape New Orleans for a short while. However, I found out it was easier to run from my problems when I was a vampire that could compel myself rental cars and first class airfare. All I had was the money from Adelina's wallet, which I prayed would be enough to get me where I wanted to go. Looking at the handful of screwed up bills and coins, I was doubtful, but I wasn't opposed to using force to get what I wanted either.

When a cab finally pulled up, I was both relieved and reluctant. Even if I wanted to high tail it out of New Orleans, I couldn't ignore my instincts. I mumbled a brief, insincere apology to the driver before spinning briskly on my heels and squeezing myself through the hoards of tourists. If somebody was watching me, they'd no doubt run after me. In an effort to trap my potential stalker, I made a sharp turn into a nearby alleyway and ducked behind a dumpster.

Soon enough, an unfamiliar man in a dark jacket burst into the street, spinning around in a circle as he searched for me. Without thinking, I pulled out my hand gun, clicked off the safety and stepped into prime view. Immediately, the man froze and raised his hands in the air.

"We can talk about this." He blurted out, alarmed and wide-eyed. For someone who was meant to be stalking me, he was a terrified little thing.

I pretended to consider this. "How about you talk about this and there won't be a bullet going through your skull in the next five seconds?" Squinting, I tried to figure out if I could place his face — an enemy of mine or Adelina's, perhaps — but nothing sparked a memory. In fact, the man was rather plain. "Let's start with your name and who sent you." I prodded, not dropping my aim as I stepped closer to him.

Opening his mouth, the man didn't have the chance to answer when a sniffle caught our attention. Snapping my head away from the man, I spotted a crying red-head peaking out from behind a brick wall. By the time I looked back to the man, he was gone.

"That's your fault." I called out to the girl, stomping in her direction.

She cocked her head to one side in question. "What did I do?" Interestingly enough, she didn't sound scared, rather . . . sad. Despite seeing a twenty-two year old pull a gun out on a man in the street, she wasn't scared.

"You distracted me and let him get away!" I yelled at her, louder than I intended to, but it was a dumb question. "I don't know who he was or why he was following me. And now I let the cab go for nothing, so I'll have to wait another hour until one actually stops for me." I complained, the lines on my forehead deepening. "What are you even doing back here? You're, like, fourteen, you could get mugged, or raped, or killed!" Sometimes, I forgot that not everyone knew how dangerous a city like New Orleans could be. I wasn't sure why I cared about what happened to this girl, but it wasn't like I knew why I did a lot things lately.

She gazed up at me with these innocent Bambi eyes, being at least six inches shorter than me. "I didn't mean to — and the gun — I panicked — and then — I —" She spoke too fast for me to comprehend, her chest heaving as she blinked back tears. Then, she narrowed her eyes and seemingly turned off all the melodrama at the flick of a switch. "Hold on, I don't know you and I don't have to tell you anything. Maybe the better question is, what were you doing threatening to shoot someone?" Quirking her eyebrow, I suddenly hated how satisfied the kid was. "Oh, and I'm sixteen, by the way." She corrected with a huff.

Grabbing her by the shirt, any pity I had for her drained away as I pinned her against the brick wall. "Hi, I'm Lottie!" I greeted in my best valley girl voice. "There, now you know me and I'd recommend you start talking if you want to live to see seventeen." I deadpanned, locking eyes with the girl that had a quickly reddening face.

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Whether it had been minutes or hours, I didn't know. All I knew for certain was that I liked talking to the red head — it shocked me, but she didn't run from me when she had the chance and that was new for me. Instead, she stayed with me, which was more than most people could claim. Soon enough, the two of us were sat on the floor and talking about our lives — more so her, but I fed her information about myself from time to time.

Drumming my fingers against my knee, I built up the courage to ask her what I actually wanted to know. "So . . . the gun." I whistled lowly in a feeble attempt to ease into the subject. "Did it upset you?" Although I was curious as to why she was sobbing in an alleyway, I did have some tact. From our earlier conversation, I learnt that Jess — that was her name — was emancipated from her parents, so I could never be too careful.

"Not so much upset, more . . . triggered." Without warning, the bubbly girl started to shut down and twiddled her thumbs. "Uh, my mom, she died. Murdered, in fact. Silver bullet straight through the skull," she tapped her forehead, a nervous giggle escaping her lips. "I wasn't there when it happened, but I found the body and I guess your gun took me back to that. I didn't even realise I was crying, I swear!" Jess quickly defended, noting my narrowed gaze. Although, it wasn't an accusatory one, rather the analytical type.

"What was her name?" I pushed, annunciating each letter slowly. In New Orleans, murders occurred often, but a gun was a strange weapon of choice if it was related to the supernatural — it most likely was, nearly everything else in city was. For most, guns were too human, too traceable, so whoever killed Jess's mom was either really dumb or really smart.

Upon hearing the underlying menace behind the question, Jess scooted away from me.
"Katie." She blurted out, raising her hands in the air and jumping to her feet. "Katie Lykos."

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FOUR WEEKS EARLIER

"I don't understand you, Charlotte." Finn called, placing his hands on my shoulders as he hovered over me. "You care about who you kill. These people deserve to die, yet you hesitate, you mourn . . . I know that you have killed for far less as a vampire, so I don't understand. I don't understand at all." He criticised whilst I tensed under the man's touch. No matter what body he was in, Finn had long perfected his 'holier than thou' attitude, which I despised.

I shook myself out of his grip, biting the inside of my cheek before I overstepped my boundaries. Although I proved my loyalty numerous times, I sensed that Esther and Finn didn't wholly trust me. "And who are we to decide who should live or die?" I spat back. "I'm not a vampire anymore, this was meant to be my fresh start and I've been made into a supernatural assassin." My voice softened as I glanced at the piece of paper in my hands before subtly stuffing it in my pocket. If Finn knew what I did after killing someone, I'd never hear the end of it.

Everyone had their own way of coping with being a killer — Stefan Salvatore wrote names in a cupboard, I burned the last words of the dead. Strangely enough, the ritual was something I'd taken up recently because there was something different about killing as a human. When I was a vampire, it was partially instinct and because I thrived in the hunt as the superior species — it was only natural that the predator would kill the prey. However, I didn't get the same the thrill anymore because I was a human that had to fight to keep the upper hand. It was battle, one where I didn't have super speed or hearing to help me win, one that had no shortcuts like compulsion or snapping necks. Somehow, that made their deaths more real, more sinister.

"Someone needs to make these decisions to prevent anarchy. Perhaps you don't understand that since you always have been the flighty type — never being able to settle on who or what you want — but Mother does." Finn belittled me, folding his arms over his chest in the process. "It's the principals of crime and punishment. That mutt betrayed us, we punished her." He justified.

Correction, I punished her. I was the one that had to shoot the girl after she refused to pledge her allegiance to Esther once the witch made moonlight rings for her pack. Esther simply gave me the name of who she wanted me to kill and sent Finn to watch to ensure the job was done, but I was the one forced to pull the trigger. I've never been a fan of guns, but the pair liked the irony of killing werewolves via silver bullets laced with wolf's bane. Their flare for the dramatic would be their downfall, I was sure, but I was designed to be their secret weapon — not someone with actual opinions or original thoughts.

"You shouldn't question us, Charlotte, or we might start to think you're not with us." Finn warned. "If you're not with us, then you're against us and people that are against us tend to end up like Katie did." He was about to leave, only to turn around at the last second. "Oh and by the way, you have a little something there?" He motioned to an area of his face before disappearing into the night.

Touching my cheek, I felt a liquid transfer to my fingertips — blood. Probably Katie's. Blood stained my face like war paint and no matter how many times I showered, I could never scrub away the sin or the shame. Shaking my head, I retrieved the paper from my pocket along with a lighter.

KATIE LYKOS
"I HAVE A DAUGHTER, PLEASE DON'T KILL ME."

Within seconds, the paper was consumed by flames and shrivelled into a pile of blackened
ashes. One moment it was here, the next it wasn't and I've learnt that's the beauty and tragedy of life. What do the words of a dead woman even mean if I was the only one to hear them?

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"I should probably go." Breaking me out of my trance, I saw that Jess was jerking her thumb towards to the exit. "Nice to meet you." She mentioned, maintaining her manners before sprinting out of the alleyway.

"No, stay!" I chased after the girl, to which I blamed on my guilty conscious. "I mean," my brown eyes drifted towards the car she stopped outside of — it was blue, a little battered, but presumably hers and that was good enough for me. "How would you feel about a road trip?" I quizzed brightly.

She shifted her weight from foot to foot. "I can't, really."

"Oh." Bowing my head, I feigned disappointment. "I'll have a lot of time on my hands then. Maybe I could use it ringing up all the schools in the area and telling them about Jess Lykos skipped today. I bet something like that would get someone in a lot of trouble." I bluffed. No matter how much I needed a ride, I didn't care enough about a sixteen year old to go to such extremes, but she didn't need to know that.

Jess rushed to open the passenger door for me. "On second thought, where are we going?" She piped up.

"Mystic Falls."

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The drive was long — fifteen hours to be exact — and it made me ache for all the shortcuts that used to be available to me. Whilst Jess drove, I tried to amuse myself by fiddling with her car radio, but I soon found myself bored of that and drifted into a sleep. By the time I woke up, we were on the outskirts of town and I soon directed the teenager to the Salvatore Boarding House. She pulled to a stop outside the house, but I couldn't find it in me to move my legs. So, the two of us remained in the car with the heater on full blast, rubbing our chapped lips together in the hope they'd turn a little less blue. Although I imagined several scenarios that would lead to my return, I'd never thought in the realistic sense. Now that I was here, I was worried — worried about what Damon would say. I didn't even try to contact him after he risked his life to save me when The Other Side was collapsing. In truth, I was still holding a grudge over the role the Mystic Falls Gang played in my death, but a part of me wished I was the type of person that could move on because I missed my friends. If only they hadn't stabbed me in the back.

In spite of the anxiety burrowed in my bones, the town was as warm and inviting as I remembered. People tended to snort at my implication that Mystic Falls was a nice town, but it was my home and it had a place reserved in my heart — regardless of blood and breakdowns I'd been witness to there. Although I was born in Portland, it was in this shabby town that I built a happy life and it took me a long time to realise how fulfilled I was there. In Mystic Falls, I received a good education for the first time, encountered the most incredible and infuriating people whilst undergoing some of the most magical experiences. Even if it all ended on a bitter note, it was here where I found people that deserved to live and fought for them.

"Lottie," Jess started softly, tapping me on the shoulder. "Are you okay?" The teenager prodded, hugging her cold body tightly. Mystic Falls may have been figuratively warm and inviting, but the temperatures were below freezing currently. If I had paid more attention, I would've realised this was a bad omen.

I shook my head, a fond smile passing my features. "No, I'm not, but I will be." I replied, appreciative of how concerned the girl was for me. "Nostalgia can do that to a person, I suppose. You know, this town . . . it doesn't look like much, but it's magic in more ways than you'll ever know." I didn't feel the need to put up a front around Jess, so all the emotions that I'd been repressing in New Orleans flooded to the surface. Sometimes I thought it was a curse to feel as strongly as I did, but I'd take the guilt and the loneliness a thousand times over if it meant I was a little closer to the girl I used to be. "I miss it, I didn't think I would, but I do. I can't even come back because everything is up in flames for me in New Orleans with my boyfriend — or ex, I'm not too sure . . ." I trailed off, stopping myself before I spilled my guts to a relative stranger. Without Damon or the girls, I had no one to confide in on a friendship level back in the city. There was Davina, but what we had was fresh and a little rocky still. However, I knew I couldn't burden Jess with any supernatural problems, leaving me to throw my head against the dashboard in frustration.

Jess stroked my hair. "I don't need to know, but I'm here to listen." She mentioned kindly.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have threatened you or dragged you on a fifteen hour trip to some outskirt Virginian town. You were mourning and in the wrong place at the wrong time." I apologised, sincere and sympathetic as ever. "Coming here was a mistake. I know there's a motel a ten minute walk from here here if you want to wait until morning to head back." Opting to take the coward's choice and avoid confrontation with my friends, I hinted that we should leave.

As much as she wanted to, the petite girl knew she couldn't pry after saying she didn't need to know. For a few moments, she held a penetrating gaze before dropping it. "Fine, but I'm leaving the car here. Let's go." She relented, stepping out of the vehicle and locking it behind her. Click.

I was numb from the cold, it was harsh and biting and it affected me more than I liked to admit since being cold was relatively new to me. Tugging my coat a little tighter, I tried not to cringe at the harsh crunch sound of my boots pressing against the frosty slush on the ground. Only when I turned around to complain to my flame-headed companion did I realise that she was leaning against her car and hadn't made any effort to move.

Jess smirked, noticing that I'd caught onto her motionless state. "Don't mind me." With a causal wave of her hand, her tone was alight with humour. "I'll just stand here and freeze to death unless you go inside that house." She presented me with an ultimatum, one that I was doubtful she'd carry through with. "If you really want to test me, I'll gladly throw the keys." Dangling the car keys in her hand, it was as if she'd read my mind. Albeit, I always was the type to wear my emotions on my face.

"I'm a stranger, remember?" I shouted over to her, taking unenthusiastic paces towards the front door of the Salvatore Boarding House. "You shouldn't care so much." I dictated, wishing that I'd taken that cab after all. Of all the overemotional teenagers in New Orleans, I was stuck with a feisty one.

"Well I do." She announced in a matter of fact manner. "My Mom's dead, Lottie. I don't have a lot of people left that I can care about, give me this. It doesn't matter who's behind that door or what happened between you both, make it right before it's too late. Don't let life pass you by like I did." Jess declared, sounding wise beyond her years. Death had a funny way of shaping people that way.

I grumbled, kicking a rock out of my way as I lingered outside the door. "You're sixteen, what do you know? Your Mom's dead, it doesn't mean you get a free pass at giving me unsolicited advice when you'll never know what I'm going through." I hissed, thinking that she couldn't possibly understand my situation. Damon wouldn't be able to recognise me, but if he could, I bet he would slam the door in my face. He probably thought I was dead and to get the eternal pessimist known as Damon Salvatore to believe that I was his best friend in someone else's body would be a whole other challenge in itself.

Jess scowled, visibly offended. "Nothing. I know nothing because you shut people out! I drove you to this stupid town and I put my stupid faith in you being a half-decent person, but I was wrong." With a humourless laugh, she unlocked her car. "You're right, I shouldn't care. I don't know what's behind that door that has you acting out and I'm not sticking around to find out. Not to give you any more unsolicited advice, but I'd suggest knocking on the door before you get hypothermia, you'll need another ride back to New Orleans." She mocked, her eyes stinging with tears that I was too far away to see. Teenagers nowadays, I swear.

"You brat!" I exclaimed, watching as she hopped into her car and drove away, leaving me in the dust. "Guess I don't have much of a choice now." I groaned, rapping my knuckles against the old oak door in front of me.

Soon enough, the door swung open and revealed the one Salvatore I wasn't all that interested in speaking to. However, the minor diversion wasn't totally unwelcome because I didn't even know what I was going to say to Damon yet.

"Uh, hello." Stefan greeted, the inflection making it sound more like a question than it should have been. "Can I help you?" He inquired, but I detected his politeness was forced.

Inhaling, I glanced up at him, my eyes bursting with curiosity and hope — I came home to find myself again. Stefan and I were never close, more amiable for Damon's sake, but he could help me. He needed to help me. "It's Lottie, Stefan." I spluttered out, not wanting to beat around the bush. "I know I don't look like her, I don't even feel like her right now, but I can explain everything. Just let me in, I need to speak with Damon." All the words exploded out of me at an alarming rate, worried that the man wouldn't let me plead my case otherwise. In addition to smoothing things over, I assumed Damon would be the person that knew where my ashes were, so I aimed to explain everything in one sitting then have a moment alone with him to talk through our issues.

"You don't know." Stefan realised, swallowing a lump in his throat. "Damon's . . . gone. If we had known you were alive, we would have told you. When he tried to save you, him and Bonnie —" Solemn, he tried to inform me of what happened, but I didn't hear a word of it. Instead, I collapsed into a heap and sobbed.

It was my fault that Damon was gone and, somehow, I was the one still alive when only yesterday I didn't know if I wanted to be.

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A.N: I'm sorry for the late update! We had a little wasp problem that had me distracted. I'm not sure even sure how I feel about this chapter. This was a filler-ish chapter — but it kind of hinted at something that we'll dig into soon. Who's stalking Lottie? It's someone we know, but I won't say anymore on that. Jess isn't really important either and most likely won't appear again, but I wanted you to get an idea of how Lottie killed for Esther and now she's seeing the consequences of her actions, a girl doesn't have a mom because of her. At least Lottie is now in Mystic Falls to 'find herself' and collect her ashes. She needed the break from New Orleans, but she now knows Damon is gone (it's S6 in TVD timeline wise) and there's still some resentment towards some people for the part they had in her death/Kol's planned murder.

Lottie isn't going to be in Mystic Falls for too long, but is there anyone you want her to see again? Or a certain thing you want to happen?