(CHAPTER NINETEEN :
'CAUSE SHE'S DEAD)

✧࿐ ཾ✧

THE STRONG SCENT OF bourbon clung to the creased fabric of my clothes, a misty look dancing in my eyes as I hauled my body upwards. Last night, Damon and I got extremely drunk — which in itself required an obnoxious amount of alcohol for a vampire — and that was all my mind could recall. I couldn't remember falling asleep, or even leaving the Salvatore Residence. Yet, my blurry vision allowed me to recognise the traditional cream tones of Elena's house with relative ease. Somehow, I ended up on the sofa at her house, not that I could figure for the undead life of me how.

"Hello?" I alerted the household I was awake, preferring to not directly call for the brunette owner due to our argument last night. Nobody responded, I waited maybe half a minute before padding in the direction of the hallway. "Somebody's at the door." I added, the persistent sound of the doorbell ringing rattling my already rocky head. "Why will nobody answer the damn door?" I shouted finally, the annoying sound irking me to the point of an outburst.

"Ah, Sleeping Beauty is awake at last." Damon sauntered towards me, descending down the stairs with an unreadable expression on his face. Considering I knew him like nobody else, it scared me when I couldn't detect his emotions.

With caution, my eyes roamed over him, up and down. "How did I even get here, Damon? In case your pea brain forgot, I'm not on good terms with Elena." I fired at him, the dull throb of confusion like a snare drum in my head. "And, what the hell is wrong with your face?" I blurted our when I failed to come to a conclusion by analysing the micro-movements in his muscles.

"Your little cat fight?" He asked rhetorically, pausing for a moment, "is this high on my list of problems right now." Damon gestured to ground level with a downward palm. "I brought you here to keep you safe from my psychotic friend that came back from the dead. To top it all off, the White Oak Stake is missing — you know, the one that can put your little boyfriend and an entire line of vampires down."

I blew out my cheeks. "I sense a whole lot of resentment here." I commented dryly. "As adorable as I find it you want to keep me safe, cut the pre-teen melodramatics and tell me what I can do to help." I sighed, making a mental note to reschedule my Amsterdam flight. At this rate, I'd never leave the cursed town.

Shrugging his shoulders, he avoided my fierce gaze. "You can find Ric." He settled on. "Bonnie is occupied with her usual witchy-woo and I'm meant to find Ric. Instead, I'm going to have a bourbon and avoid my responsibilities." The Salvatore elaborated, already walking towards the front door.

"Not a chance." I grabbed his forearm before he could leave. "If we can get drunk, we can also get alcohol poisoning." He would heal, I knew that. However, I didn't want to tell him the truth, he couldn't flake on his best friend when he needed him. Or, maybe a part of me was concerned he would give up on me that easy if I died too.

Easily, the man broke out of my grip. "Calm down, I'm just going to the answer the door." He insisted, opening the door and closing it almost immediately. There was a brief conversation with him and the man at the door — Klaus — I knew that chilling voice anywhere, but I didn't strain my hearing to listen in. Surely, Damon would tell me.

Once the door was shut, I knew it was safe to reveal myself. In the present, I feared the Original who lead me to my death a century ago. Mainly, I masked my emotions through confidence. "I—I don't even have the energy for sarcasm." I stammered in mock surprise. "What does Wolfie want?" I asked without missing beat.

"Klaus wants in, we have to keep him out." He revealed, a bite in his tone.

Flashing into the living room, I observed Klaus from the window, noting how a few other people took refuge there now — Stefan, Bonnie, Jeremy. Before I could reiterate Damon's instructions, Klaus had hurled an alight newspaper through the window. As the glass shattered, a panicked, "Ah, duck!" escaped Damon. But, it didn't matter, I had instinctively shielded Jeremy, resulting in many tiny shards being embedded in me.

Game on, Klaus.

✧࿐ ཾ✧

PORTLAND, OREGON [1908]

"Let's play a game!" I exclaimed with a vibrant giggle.

He did love games, except not the type in question. However, he passed me a bemused smirk all the same. It had only been a matter of weeks since we started to see each other and I couldn't quite figure out his motives. Men were puzzling, so I wanted to know more about Kol. Every inch of me was craving him and needed to know about his deepest desires, for I truly wanted to understand the enigma that was Kol Mikaelson.

His predator eyes twinkled hazel. I loved the way his eyes held unknown depth, the way they would flicker between a warm mocha to black coal depending on his mood. "What kind of game, darling?" Biting down on his lower lip, I could tell he had a different idea.

"It's a game of questions." I told him, putting my hands on his chest to create distance between us. No distractions. "Like, where is your favourite place? Father mentioned you are well-travelled." I pondered, my smile shining bright against the dark hues of the night.

"Amsterdam." He answered with a firm nod of certainty. "Verona comes a close second, but Amsterdam is a magical place in more ways than you will ever know." Kol reflected on his time in that city. He was notorious for throwing grand celebrations and having his way with the most alluring women. In Portland, he could have any girl too, but he didn't want any girl. Whether he wanted to admit it, I was his home, his safe place, and he wanted me. Although, his intent with me did start out more than malicious. "I take it is my turn now. So, Charlotte, what is your darkest secret?" Knowing I could not be as innocent as I was portrayed, The Original suggestively raised an eyebrow. A past time of his was corrupting purity.

My Father, I thought. He was not a good man, he was dangerous and cruel. "They were not the kind of questions I had in mind. Maybe I should go again." I advised, covering my discomfort up by ruffling the man's treasured locks. "Do you ever want to get married?" I steered the conversation down a lighter route, wondering if the two of us could grow old together if I ended my engagement to Thomas.

"No." Suddenly, his exterior grew cold and his orbs hardened. "Nothing lasts forever, marriage is nonsensical concept by humans to give them purpose. Even in death, to be condemned to one person, is a curse and a weakness. I am not weak." His tone was hushed, spiked with deadly words. To him, people were better off alone. For example, he had no pathetic hope for redemption and no pressure to live up to anybody's expectations except his own. He was wild, free and untameable.

Considerably hurt, I remained collected. "It is rather late." I pulled my caramel tresses from the tight bun they were in, rebelliously allowing my hair to disguise my reddened face. "I do thank you for the lovely evening, Sir." Once I excused myself, I broke into a sprint. Had I really fooled myself into believing I had a chance with a man who didn't want love?

✧࿐ ཾ✧

Unable to enter without an invitation, Klaus became restless outside. "I think you're probably gonna want to let me in!" Yelling, he searched for his next makeshift weapon. It was a quick bounce back, I had only just dislodged all the glass shards from my body a minute ago and now he was arming up for round two.

"I'm sorry, Lottie can't come to phone right now." I remarked in a saccharine tone.

Klaus didn't hesitate in retorting, booting a soccer ball with an unnatural force into the door, forcing it to become unhinged. "'Cause she's dead." The British twinge radiated in his voice as he propelled wooden fence picket into my body. If Damon didn't yank me to the floor, it would have punctured worse than my thigh. Blood oozed out from the limb momentarily, the skin healing within a minute of the object being removed. Either way, he should not have done that.

"I think you missed." I taunted the Hybrid after Damon had dodged his next attack. "And I think you'll be paying for a new paint job, that looked expensive." Lowly, I whistled, my gaze drifting to the picket that was fixed into the wall of the Gilbert home.

"Lottie," Damon hissed in warning. In return, I winked at him, subtly nodding at the picket in the wall. For a period of time, we had an unspoken conversation. Eventually, my friend figured out that I was aiming to distract the Original. It was situation that played to my advantage — my distraction helped my friends and it allowed me to face my fear. I refused to be the feeble mortal girl that Klaus Mikaelson succeeded in killing. She was dead, I was not her. After all, that was my entire basis for rejecting Kol — I had changed.

Whilst I deflected Klaus' attention, Damon extracted the picket from the wall and launched it outside again. Unfortunately, the piece of wood grazed Klaus' shoulders, which, in turn, infuriated him. Snap. Klaus broke the picket in half, throwing the first piece at the two of us. Luckily, I was prepared this time, catching the object before it could cause any damage.

Weighing the item in my hand, I twirled the picket in my hand. "Oh, Damon," I tutted, shaming him because he missed our target. "That shot was so weak, I almost thought you were on Stefan's Bunny Diet." I jived, flinging the broken picket at our enemy. It was too far out, avoiding contact with the man all together.

"And that was so much better." Damon drawled, emphasising the 'so.'

"What can I say?" I frowned. "I'm failing Gym." I laughed, teetering on the edge of the doorway, on the edge of our protection. "But, at least I got a free shot at him. It's been fun second-guessing myself over the years, living in fear of a faceless, nameless man, worried he would come back to finish what he started." Wholly, I was focused on the blonde man, channelling every intense emotion — the rage, the despair, the paranoia — I experienced without my memories. To know somebody wanted me dead, but not know who, sentenced me to a constant state of trepidation. "Now, I'll never live in fear of you again. You'll be dead, I am free of my fear and never again will I be afraid of the Big, Bad Hybrid." I announced, my blue eyes piercing into his soul. I wanted him to look me in the eye, to know the damage he had done.

"Ah, yes," Klaus waved his hand nonchalantly. "Girl Power, rah-rah and all that other twenty-first century rubbish." He didn't take me seriously, a mistake he would one day regret.

Before I could reply, Stefan's phone rang. Automatically, my ears perked up at a recognisable voice. Leaving Damon to toy with Klaus, I headed to find out why Alaric Saltzman was on the phone. Signalling he would be a moment, the younger Salvatore raised a finger, walking past me to confront Klaus. "Put it out." Stefan demanded upon realising Klaus had a propane tank and fire torch on hand.

"Come outside and make me." He proposed and, to everybody's surprise, Stefan complied with his order.

"Elena's not here," the vampire began. "Alaric has her and Caroline and he's gonna kill them both unless you turn yourself over to him." Stefan rephrased the caution he was given on the phone. Strangely, guilt bubbled inside of me as it dawned on me, I didn't pay any mind to the absence of Elena and Caroline. I was so selfishly consumed by challenging my own demons that I forgot about my friends — for Elena was a friend, no matter our current terms.

"Now, I know you're not asking me to walk into a certain death." Klaus said fairly.

Grumbling, I followed Stefan's lead out stood outside the threshold. "You know we all care too much about Elena to have a hidden motive." I assured him that this was not an intricate charade to murder him. "If you are, I'm willing to..." I gulped, swallowing my pride after I just gave the Hybrid a longwinded, defiant speech, "work together." I finished.

"Are you prepared to make a deal with the devil?"

✧࿐ ཾ✧

A.N: I got inspired after all the lovely comments on the last chapter, so here is another update. Not many chapters left until the book comes to a close now.

What are your favourite types of flashbacks?