"I read about you once. A being capable of spontaneous creation. A Scarlet Witch. TAKE HER DOWN!!"
What happens when a Scarlet witch is born in the universe of The Vampire Diaries.
Take a look into the life of Cherith Gilbert, Cousin/adopted sister...
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September 22nd.
Stefan gasps as he wakes up from his nightmare, breathing heavily as he sat up on his bed.
“Bad dream?”
Damon asked from where he sat in Stefan’s room.
“Do you know how easy it was to get into your head just now? You really need some human blood. It might even the playing field. Football reference.”
He smirked, pausing, before speaking again.
“Too soon?”
At that, a pissed off Stefan blurs from his bed to a table, picking up a knife and throwing it right at Damon which impales him by his chest.
Damon sighed, standing up and easily removing it.
“Alright. I deserve that. But, you should know, they caught the culprit. The animal responsible for killing all those people and Tanner.”
Stefan gave him an unimpressed look, knowing he was staring directly at the culprit after all.
“What are you talking about?”
“It was a mountain lion. Really big one! It attacked a hunter this morning. It's all over the news. ‘Deadly beast captured. All's well in Mystic Falls'.”
He drags with his hand and Stefan’s eyes narrowed at him suspiciously.
“Why would you cover your tracks?”
Damon shrugged walking around.
“I've decided to stay a while. And I'm just having way too much fun here with you and Elena.”
He smiles deviously and Stefan scoffs.
“You can’t touch her now.”
Damon smirked.
Well, the vervain keeps me out of her head. Maybe that's not my target.”
He gives a rather salacious grin that riled Stefan and Damon continued his speech.
“Believe it or not, Stefan, some girls don't need my persuasion. Some girls just can't resist my good looks, my style and my charm and my unflinching ability to listen to Taylor Swift.”
He finished, walking up to his brother and just then with his vampire speed, stabs Stefan in his stomach who grunts, falling to his knees.
Damon stares at his designer black shirt and frowns at his brother.
“This is John Varvatos dude. Dick. Move.”
With that, he saunters out of Stefan’s room, who removes the knife from his stomach with a grunt, lifting his shirt to each as the wound closes up, leaving only a trail of blood.
He stares at the door his brother left from with an angry glare.
