Forever The Name On My Lips

thirty-six.

thirty-six. i will follow you into the storm

Chicago - 1997

You were sitting on the edge of the roof of your apartment building, listening to the symphonies of a Chicago night with a mix of detachment and predatory curiosity. You came up here often, when you wanted the peace and quiet. You would often lament on past memories, chastising yourself for your past foolishness. You were smarter now, stronger. You would never let him trick you again, with empty false promises of forever. Forever? You didn't need it.

You peered down, taking in the city, which wasn't as lively as it once had been, and you knew that was because of you. The Butcher of Chicago, that's what they'd been calling you. You smirked slightly, thinking of the theories they had on who it could be. Because of your choice of victims, usually pairs, they thought you were targeting lovers. A slighted lover, a newspaper had speculated about you. You weren't targeting anyone in particular, but seeing lovesick fools did make the kill more enjoyable for you.

The sound of laughter echoed up to your ears, and you looked down to see a young couple walking into an alley. They were clearly looking for a private place, kissing as they went. Once, you would have enjoyed seeing that, seeing love flourishing. Now, it just made you sick. You jumped down from your perch, landing right behind them. They both screamed, but you put a finger up to your lips, a smirk on your face. "A little late to be out, don't you think?" you asked.

They were both frozen in place, the man standing slightly in front of his female companion. The image made you bristle in anger, though you weren't sure why you cared anymore. You grabbed him by the throat, pressing your lips against his, your eyes meeting his girlfriend's as she stared at you in horror. The feel of his lips on yours disgusted you, but you kept the smirk on your face as you pulled back and looked him in the eyes. "You liked that, didn't you?" you compelled. He nodded and your smirk grew. "You're going to do everything I say now, aren't you? You want to please me so you're going to hold your girlfriend for me. Nice and tight so she doesn't escape."

He nodded and grabbed her. "Jack, what are you doing? Let me go!" the girl cried, tried to pull her arm out of his grasp, but he held on too tight.

You smirked as you stepped towards her. "Sorry, your boyfriend can't help you now," you said.

"Please let us go! Please," she begged.

"In a way, you should be thanking me. He would just hurt you in the end. They always do. I had this boyfriend for nine hundred years, and he tore my heart out. In the end, none of them can be trusted."

"What--what are you?" she asked, the fear obvious in her tone.

"Me? I'm just a girl," you said, looking into her eyes to compel her. "A very, very thirsty girl. Now I'm done with the chatter. You're going to keep silent."

You leaned forward, ready to pierce her neck with your fangs when a voice called out to you. "I didn't know you liked to play with your food," Damon Salvatore stood at the entrance to the alleyway, smirking. The annoyance in you grew as you took in his form. You didn't want to see him.

You sighed and looked at him. "I like playing. What I don't like is being interrupted during a meal," you said.

"Well then, how about we share and I let you get back to your meal," he sauntered over, the smirk still on his face.

"Catch your own," you said. "Chicago is full of these lovesick fools."

"But then I wouldn't get to spend time with my best friend," he said. His fingers moved the girl's hair over her shoulder. "You caught yourself a pretty meal, I see."