The Return of Damon Salvatore ⚜ TVD

un - saint petra's float spa

"Low blow, man. Low blow." I muttered under my breath, my eyes not straying far from my lit-up screen.

He noticed my inattention and started whining like a pre-school kid unsatisfied with his lunch. I flip him off before diving back into my work. I see him huff at the corner of my eye before going back to his desk.

I palm my face tiredly. Interacting with others was exhausting.

⚘ ❅ ❃

I stripped off all my clothes, turned off the lights, and clumsily made my way (I may or may not have slipped on my lower backside) towards a tank full of water — a glorified bathtub — and closed the door behind me.

I let out a long sigh, momentarily contemplating how I had gotten myself into this situation.

Right. I was bribed. With ice-cream. Damn it.

The dark was so complete that it was starting to affect my ability to distinguish whether my eyes were opened or closed. I blink several times to make sure that my eyes, were in fact, open.

I steeled myself as I settled into a comfortable position, lying on my back, buoyed by 1000 pounds of Epsom salts dissolved in warm water.

Being ensconced in a floatation tank was hardly how I wanted to spend my hour, but the ice cream was too goddamn tempting for a petty human like me to resist. I cracked my neck and spent the next few minutes staring into the darkness as if willing the time away. My body gently swayed back and forth between the sides of the tank as I contemplated how long I had been there already. 5 minutes? 10 minutes? Honestly, there was no sense of time here. I could've been staring at the ceiling for over half an hour now, for all I know.

Warm water laps against my skin, making me feel comforted; like I was encased by many fluffy blankets. The water felt so good — not too hot, not too cold — just right.

My mind began to wander — as it usually does without having anything to focus on — into territories I would rather not think of. I suck in deep breaths, trying to reel in my thoughts, and doing my best to adjust to the strange sensation of having nothing to focus my eyes on.

"This is quite possibly the strangest thing I've had to experience all week," I whisper to myself, hearing it reverberate against the walls of my tank. I am briefly reminded of last week's strange incident. A madwoman had broken into our office late at night, to harass the workers. Oddly enough, the only thing that seemed to calm her down was my peace offering. My cookie jar.

After a while, my mind began warping my vision; or lack thereof. Sunspot-like patterns and purple tendrils with a bluish tinge danced around my vision like a beautiful aurora. I stare at it, amazed.

The human mind was wonderfully bizarre. I imagine the colorful show was to keep me from going insane, what with all my thoughts coming back to torture me like a pathetic slideshow from 7th grade. I wince at the thought. That, or it was just a sign of my impending lunacy.

As if to prove my point, I begin hearing music. More specifically, hip-hop beats. I had no earbuds on, — god forbid I need another pair ruined — let alone played any sort of music. Just another example of the wonders of the mind. It was starting to make me think I was spiraling down the rabbit hole of insanity.

The patterns which were once dimmed, emerged once again, much to my chagrin. I didn't need a light show. Curiously, the former forms of blobs and streaks began warping into the familiar shape and form of...people. My brow furrowed as my vision became increasingly detailed, with the people showing up as two men and a single woman. All of whom were wearing clothes from the 19th century.

What the hell...?

The figures began dimming and going away, but I couldn't help but feel as if I recognized them. But, from where? And who were they?

Just as I was comparing their relevance to my memories, a big jolt awakens me from my thoughts. I look up in surprise to see the upper part of the tank I was in shut tight. My claustrophobia spiked and I quickly went on my knees, trying to force the top to open. I may have bumped my head in the process, seeing as my vision was swimming with stars.

Within that flurry of panic, I distinctly hear a cheery voice — a familiar one — say, "Well, now we're all set." A sigh was released. "My best wishes are with you, Cas. See you on the other side, buddy."

My eyes jolt open, making water seep in as I try to calm my erratic heart rate. The severity of the situation was getting to me and to add to that, my own best friend —

I slammed against the inner wall of the tank desperately. "Adrian! Adrian! Let me out. LET ME OUT! Let me out, you coward! You bastard! Let me out! Do you hear me! DO YOU FUCKING HEAR ME!" I shouted until my voice turned hoarse.

With no sign of him opening the sealed tank, I began hyperventilating (okay, I know, not the best moment to be doing that but —) I shake my head, unwilling to hear what my inner voice had to say. I push the top with all my might but to no avail.

"Ah - Arghhh. No. No. No. This - this isn't happening —" I say between gasps. My muscles trembled under the pressure I was putting it through. My whole body was slowly giving up on me. I was getting exhausted.

All my efforts were focused on getting the hell out of this deathtrap, so naturally, I didn't notice the increasing water level in the tank. Well, maybe I did, but by then it was too late.