CHAPTER SIX / ACT ONE

Torn Veil.

That night, Gwen didn't get a blink of sleep. Instead, she sat in bed trying to make sense of her own existence—and Elena's. It was a small comfort to know she wasn't the only one baffled by why they looked exactly alike. Still, it seemed Stefan wasn't above hiding things from her.

Despite spending her time with the Salvatore brothers, Gwen felt like she was going mad in this house. Sure, it was large, comfortable, and safe, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of being around the lively community of Mystic Falls. She missed the town despite its drastic changes. Sneaking out hadn't gone well last time, and she couldn't trust herself unsupervised.

As she paced back and forth through the Salvatores' library, she heard footsteps entering the room. Over the past few days, she'd gotten pretty good at identifying each brother's footsteps. These, she unfortunately recognized, belonged to Damon.

"You seem stressed," he commented, pouring himself a glass of bourbon.

"I'm fine," she answered quickly. "Just... feeling caged in."

"Well, you're free to leave," he shrugged, glancing at the door. "Maybe grab a bite to eat while you're out?"

Gwen frowned.

"Kidding," he added. "Though I don't see the harm in getting out for a while."

"I don't think your brother would let me," she sighed, taking a step closer. "He seems to only let me out with a chaperone, and I have no clue where he's gone."

"He's out. On a date... with Elena."

"Date?" she whispered to herself.

"Like courting," he clarified.

"Stefan is... courting Elena?" she questioned. "Well, when will he be back?"

Damon took a sip of his bourbon, a smirk playing at his lips. "Hard to say."

Gwen's mind whirled with conflicting emotions. The idea of Stefan out with Elena, someone who looked exactly like her, felt like a cruel joke. She had been thrown into this strange new world, where nothing made sense, and the one person she thought might help her was off playing romantic games with her doppelgänger.

The library's heavy silence pressed down on her. She glanced around at the towering shelves filled with old, leather-bound books, feeling their weight of history and knowledge, but none of it could answer the questions tormenting her. The flickering firelight cast dancing shadows on the walls, creating an illusion of movement in the still room.

"Why is this happening?" she muttered, more to herself than to Damon.

"Because the universe has a twisted sense of humor," Damon replied, his tone surprisingly soft. "But look, if you're feeling trapped, do something about it. Don't wait for permission that's never coming."

Gwen looked at him, seeing a flicker of sincerity beneath his usual sarcasm. Maybe he had a point. She couldn't just wait around for answers or freedom. She had to take control, even if it meant stepping into the unknown.

"Then again, I could always take you out." He offered. A sly smirk tugged at his lips which he did his best to keep hidden. "Since your boy is busy, I'd be happy to step in for him." Gwen bit her lip at his suggestion, wary of the idea to spend her time with Damon.

She knew little about him, just the things Stefan told her about him. That he was a bit.. unstable. Then again, he didn't seem all that bad. "I don't know. I don't want to.. hurt anybody. Not like last time."

"Oh, of course not!" He waved her off as if it wasn't even considered. "We're just going out for a night on the town. Get you out a bit, y'know?"

Gwen kept her eyes on him before eventually nodding, apprehension in her movements. "Alright, I trust you."

"Good," he said with a nod. "Now, how about we get you out of this stuffy house? Just for a bit. We'll make sure you don't get into too much trouble."

A small smile tugged at her lips. "Fine. Let's go."

When Damon promised to take her out, Gwen wasn't expecting to wind up back at the Grill. It wasn't exactly a flattering piece of scenery, and the crowded atmosphere was enough to drive her crazy. The bustling environment, with overworked staff and irritated customers, was overwhelming.

She ran her tongue against her fangs, trying to calm her urges.

Damon's hands gently pushed her inside, his fingers lingering at the small of her back. "Not the best place in Mystic Falls, but they serve great alcohol," he said with a smirk.

"Why are we here?" she asked, her eyes darting around the room. "I hate it here."

He led her to the bar and pulled out a stool for her. He quickly ordered two bourbons, waving off the bartender with a casual air. "The Grill is a great place to start. Not too wild, plenty of people to get used to being around."

Gwen reluctantly sat down, trying to suppress the growing sense of panic. The noise, the people, the smells—it was all too much. She closed her eyes for a moment, focusing on her breathing, trying to regain some semblance of control.

"What if something happens again?" Gwen asked, her voice tinged with worry.

"You know, you should really stop worrying," Damon muttered. "Feeding, hunting, killing—it's all natural for a vampire. You need to learn how to embrace who you are."

"Natural?" She scoffed. "None of this is natural. I am not a killer."

"Aren't you?"

Gwen shifted uncomfortably in her seat, the weight of his words pressing down on her.

"Sorry," he apologized, though his tone was still unapologetically blunt.

She nodded begrudgingly, exhaling deeply. "So, are we here to drink? I've never..."

"No, I'm here to teach you how to be a vampire." He patted her shoulder, a grin spreading across his face.

"Without..."

"Without killing," he nodded. "But there's much for you to learn."

"Like what?"

"Compulsion, for one," he began, leaning in closer. "It's one of the perks of being a vampire. Getting anyone to do anything for you."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

Gwen raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite herself. "How does it work?"

"It's all about eye contact and intent," Damon explained. "Look them straight in the eyes and project what you want. It's a power play, really. You have to believe in your command."

She thought about this for a moment, the idea both fascinating and daunting. "And it really works? On anyone?"

"Well, almost anyone. Like I mentioned before, it doesn't work on other supernatural beings or people who are on vervain. But for everyone else, it's pretty foolproof."

Gwen took another sip of her bourbon, feeling the warmth spread through her. "Okay, show me how it's done."

Damon scanned the room, his eyes landing on a harried waitress rushing by. "Watch and learn," he said with a wink. He called out to the waitress, who turned and walked over, looking slightly annoyed.

"Yes?" she asked, a bit breathlessly.

Damon locked eyes with her, his voice smooth and commanding. "You're going to bring us another round of drinks, on the house."

The waitress's eyes glazed over slightly, and she nodded. "Of course, right away," she replied, turning to fulfill his request.

Gwen watched in amazement. "That's... incredible."

"It's useful," Damon said with a shrug. "And you'll get the hang of it. It's just one of the many things you'll learn to control."

She felt a mix of excitement and fear at the prospect. Embracing her new identity as a vampire was terrifying, but with Damon's guidance, she felt a spark of hope. Maybe she could learn to navigate this new world without losing herself completely.

"Okay," she said, determination hardening her voice. "Teach me everything."

"Well, the incredibly high alcohol tolerance is a great perk." Damon grinned as he took a shot, calling over for another.

"You drink a lot," Gwen observed.

He rolled his eyes, scanning the area as he received another shot. Gwen examined his features, trying to make something out of him, trying to figure him out. He was a complicated person, that was for sure, but anyone could tell there was much more to him than met the eye.

"How did you become a vampire?"

The question caught him off guard, almost making him choke on his drink. Before he could respond, the peace shattered with the arrival of a loud presence at the bar—a drunk woman, to be exact. She plopped herself down right next to Gwen, completely invading her personal space.

"Ah, Kelly Donovan," Damon grinned, taking a quick sip from his glass.

"Stefan's brother!" Kelly giggled drunkenly. "Damon, right?" She quickly turned to Gwen, pulling her into a tight hug. "So nice to see you again, Elena! It's been so long, hasn't it? Look at you!"

Gwen glared at Damon, silently begging for an explanation, but he just shrugged. Kelly continued to ramble, oblivious to the tension she was causing.

As the night dragged on, Kelly kept droning on about different stories from her youth. Gwen and Damon pretended to listen, taking shot after shot. Damon was right about Gwen's high alcohol tolerance, but it was no match for her miserable state and desperate need for release. By the fifteenth shot, she was undeniably on the verge of drunkenness.

"Wow, this is probably one of the best nights of my life!" Gwen laughed, taking another shot. "I've never felt this alive! Which is ironic considering I'm..." She trailed off, her words slurring.

Damon playfully rolled his eyes, patting her on the back. "Alright, slow down, that's a lot for your first time."

"No, actually I deserve this!" She said, "I deserve to drink until I physically can't drink anymore. I think I might understand why you do it so often. You are gonna have to keep up with me!"

The vampire laughed, joining in on her fun. As they drank and reveled in their newfound freedom, they were too distracted to notice Stefan, Elena, and another younger couple a few tables away. Though their antics at the bar certainly didn't go unnoticed by Stefan. Elena conversed with her friends, Caroline Forbes and Matt Donovan, Kelly's son, while Stefan stared at the two, disapproval written all over his face.

Quickly excusing himself from the group, Stefan walked up to the pair and hovered over them. "What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded of his brother.

"Having fun. Maybe a little too much fun. What the hell are you doing here?" Damon grinned.

Stefan turned to Gwen, placing a hand on her back. "Let's get you out of here," he muttered, glaring at his brother as he led her towards the bathroom. "How many drinks have you had?"

"Fourteen," she hiccupped. "Maybe fifteen."

He let out a frustrated sigh, pushing past the crowded area. It was hard to tell whether he was angry or disappointed in her. Maybe a hint of both. Neither made her feel good about herself. She never intended to anger him, but she wasn't his prisoner either

As they maneuvered their way through, they were suddenly stopped by a man. His presence was imposing, and there was something unsettling about the way he looked at them.

"Katherine?" the man said, staring the girl down.

Stefan's concerned expression shifted from Gwen to the man, tilting his head slightly to the side.

"No, sorry." Gwen giggled. "But it's okay, lots of people have been mistaking me for a Katherine lately. My name's actually—"

"Sorry, you have the wrong person," Stefan interrupted, quickly steering Gwen toward the bathrooms.

Once inside, Stefan let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "You can't stay out here like this," he said, his voice low and urgent. "It's too dangerous."

Gwen leaned against the sink, trying to steady herself. "Who was that man?"

"I don't know yet." He whispered.

"I want another drink." She said, quickly dismissing the previous concern.

"You've already had enough."

"No, I want another drink."

Stefan looked her in the eye, squinting slightly as he tried to gauge her intentions. "You want blood?"

She nodded. "Damon said he'd teach me how to be a vampire without killing. So it's okay, right?"

"Damon doesn't know how to do anything without killing," Stefan murmured, his voice low and steady. "He's the last person you want help from. You're doing fine on the animal blood, okay? You don't need to hurt anyone. Or worse."

Gwen groaned, rubbing the palm of her hand across her forehead, feeling the weight of her struggle pressing down on her.

"But we'll worry about that later," Stefan said, taking a nearby paper towel and gently wiping the alcohol dripping from the corners of her lips. He tossed the paper towel away and led her out of the bathroom, guiding her through the building. "I'll take you home, alright? Just wait here for a moment. Don't go anywhere."

Gwen nodded as Stefan disappeared back into the Grill. She stood near the entrance, biting her lip anxiously as she eyed the dark surroundings of the parking lot. The chill of the night air crept under her skin, and she wrapped her arms around herself, shivering as she wandered a few steps but kept close to the door.

Moments later, the door opened, but instead of Stefan, a young couple exited, smiling and holding hands as they made their way to their car. Gwen stared at them, unable to take her eyes off them as the intoxicating scent of fresh human blood wafted in the air.

Her senses heightened, the sound of their laughter and their warm, pulsing heartbeats filled her ears. She took a step closer, her fangs aching as her instincts urged her to feed. The struggle between her human morality and her vampiric urges tore at her, the temptation almost too much to bear.

Just as she was about to take another step, a firm hand grabbed her shoulder, pulling her back. She turned to see Stefan, his expression a mix of worry and stern resolve.

"Not here, not now," he said quietly but firmly. "Control it, Gwen."

She swallowed hard, nodding as she forced herself to look away from the couple and back at Stefan. "It's so hard," she whispered, her voice trembling.

"I know," Stefan replied, his grip on her shoulder gentle but steady. "Let's get you home."

With a final glance at the couple, Gwen allowed Stefan to lead her to his car. As they drove away, she fought to steady her breathing, the scent of human blood still lingering in her mind.

Gwen sat on the couch, a glass of water in her hands, staring at the flickering fire in front of her. Stefan sat beside her, a gentle hand on her back. He had spent the last half hour comforting her, ensuring she was sobered up and out of trouble.

"Where's Damon?" she asked, turning to him.

"Who knows," he shrugged, his eyes fixed on the fire.

Gwen nodded, leaning back on the couch. She studied Stefan for a few moments, though he seemed too lost in thought to notice. She couldn't help but think his worries were centered around her.

"I'm sorry for ruining your night with Elena," she whispered, biting the inside of her cheek sheepishly. "I never meant to be a problem."

Stefan let out a hushed sigh, finally shifting his gaze to meet hers. "I know."

Silence settled between them, the crackling fire the only sound in the room. Gwen took a sip of her water, trying to steady her nerves. The warmth of the fire was soothing, but it couldn't chase away the chill of her earlier encounter.

"You're not a problem, Gwen," Stefan continued, his voice soft and reassuring. "This is all new for you, and it's not easy."

Gwen looked down at her glass, the weight of his words sinking in. "Is something wrong with me?"

Stefan's eyebrows furrowed at her words. "What do you mean?"

"I mean my lust for blood. It doesn't feel normal. I don't feel normal."

Stefan exhaled, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Nothing's wrong with you. Things are just... complicated. You're new, you're adjusting. And you're improving with the animal blood, aren't you?"

Gwen averted her eyes, staring down at the ground.

"Aren't you?" Stefan repeated gently.

She sighed, her fingers tightening around the glass. "No, I'm not. In fact, I'm getting worse."

"What are you talking about?" Stefan frowned. "I'm with you every step of the way, and you're getting better every day."

"No, nothing is getting better!" She sprang from the couch, pacing the room. "The animal blood isn't enough! It's repulsive, it makes me feel weak, and it's not what I really want. I can barely keep it down!"

Stefan stood up, concern etched across his face. "Gwen, I know it's hard, but this is part of the process. It's supposed to be challenging."

She stopped pacing and turned to face him, her eyes filled with frustration and desperation. "Challenging? It's unbearable! Something is wrong with me! It's not just the fact that I'm a vampire, Stefan. It's something deeper."

He ran his fingers through his hair as he looked down at her, internally beating himself up. Gwen noticed his stressed demeanor and tilted her head to the side. "Do you know something?"

He didn't respond, only paced the room with his hands placed on his hips. "Look, Gwen. I don't know anything for sure, but I don't want to be dishonest with you either. I want us to be able to trust each other, okay?"

She nodded hesitantly, unsure where he was going with this. "What's wrong?"

He let out a deep breath, crossing his arms before standing in front of her. "There could be a deeper reason why your bloodlust is so... uncontrollable."

"Then tell me!" She stepped closer.

He kept his eyes on his feet before looking up at her, hesitance written across his face. "You could be a ripper."

Gwen frowned, her arms crossed. "A what?"

"A ripper is... a type of vampire. It's a form of suffering, really. They're different from most vampires, with an insatiable craving for blood. Most vampires can control their bloodlust, but rippers... it's complicated. And when they do feed, they're aggressive, reckless, and violent; often feeding so hard their victims lose their heads."

Gwen's eyes widened, horror and confusion etched across her face. "You think I'm... one of them?"

He sighed, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I don't know for sure, but it's a possibility. And if that's the case, we need to handle it carefully. We need to find ways to help you manage it."

She took a step back, her mind racing. "But what if I hurt someone? What if I can't control it?"

"We'll figure it out together," Stefan reassured her. "You're not alone in this. I'll be here every step of the way. We'll find a way to manage your bloodlust without anyone getting hurt."

Gwen's breathing was shaky, her thoughts a whirlwind of fear and doubt. "I don't want to be a monster, Stefan."

"You're not a monster," he said firmly. "You're struggling, but that doesn't make you a monster. It makes you someone who needs help, and I'm here to give you that help."

A heavy silence washed over them as Gwen bit her nails in fear, turning away from Stefan to process this new information. She felt a knot tighten in her stomach, the weight of his words sinking in slowly. Gwen's mind raced, replaying every moment of struggle she'd experienced since her transformation. The urge for blood, the constant battle to maintain control—it all made a terrible kind of sense now.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. Her hands shook slightly, and she clasped them together in an attempt to stop the trembling. She began to pace, her mind trying to grasp the reality of being a ripper. The term felt foreign and heavy, like a label that didn't quite fit but was still undeniably hers.

Gwen glanced at the flickering fire, seeking some kind of solace in its steady warmth. She wrapped her arms around herself, as if trying to hold herself together. Stefan watched her quietly, giving her the space she needed to process. He wanted to reach out, to offer more comfort, but he knew she needed a moment to herself.

The room seemed to close in on her, the walls pressing in with the weight of her fears. She thought about the people she might hurt, the lives she could ruin. The thought made her feel sick, and she bit her lip, trying to hold back the rising tide of anxiety.

Gwen took another deep breath, focusing on the rhythm of her breathing to calm herself. Inhale, exhale.

Inhale..

Exhale..

The shattering sound of glass crashed through the atmosphere, violently interrupting the tense silence between Gwen and Stefan. The sudden, sharp noise sent a jolt of panic through them both, their heads snapping toward the source of the commotion. A shower of shards scattered across the floor as two figures, shadowy and menacing, burst through the broken window.

The tomb vampires moved with an eerie, predatory grace, their eyes gleaming with malicious intent. They were upon them in an instant, the room transforming into a chaotic battleground. Stefan sprang into action, his vampire speed and strength evident as he lunged at the intruders. Gwen, heart pounding, grabbed a nearby chair in a desperate attempt to defend herself.

The fight was a blur of motion. The vampires moved with unnatural agility, their movements a nightmarish dance of aggression and power. Stefan clashed with the male vampire, their struggle intense and brutal. The force of their blows shook the room, the sounds of their combat a harsh symphony of grunts and impact.

Gwen's focus was locked on the female vampire, who advanced toward her with a menacing smirk. In a frantic effort to protect herself, she swung the chair, its wooden legs splintering against the vampire's relentless assault. She dodged a swing of the vampire's fist, her breath coming in ragged bursts.

Desperation fueled her actions. Grabbing a broken wooden leg from the shattered chair, she wielded it like a makeshift stake. The vampire's taunting smile faltered as Gwen's strikes became more precise, driven by fear and anger. With a swift, determined motion, she plunged the wooden stake into the vampire's chest. The woman let out a final, guttural scream before her body began to slowly decolor and desiccate before falling to the floor.

Gwen barely had a moment to catch her process her shock before her attention was pulled back to Stefan. She watched as he and the other vampire fought, watching as the fight took a toll on him. The vampire landed a powerful strike that sent Stefan crashing to the ground, dazed and disoriented.

The remaining tomb vampire advanced on Gwen, a cruel glint in his eyes. Before she could react, he pulled out a small vial, the liquid inside shimmering with a dark, ominous hue. With a swift, practiced motion, he injected her with the vervain. The sting of the needle was sharp, but it was the effect of the vervain that hit her hardest. A cold, numbing pain spread through her veins, causing her to collapse to the floor.

As the vervain took hold, Gwen's vision blurred, her strength draining away rapidly. The room spun around her, the edges of her consciousness fraying. The last thing she saw was Stefan lying unconscious, the tomb vampire's shadow looming over him before everything went dark.

AUTHORS NOTE

hii cuties how are we all on this fine day