BLUE BANISTERS ➥ Damon Salvatore

ONE ◦ The Awakening

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THE MOON HUNG LOW IN THE INKY BLACK SKY, casting a ghostly pallor over the desolate graveyard. Stone coffins, the inscriptions long eroded by time, sat untouched for centuries. Among them, a particularly weathered mausoleum bore the unmistakable marks of time's relentless march. Its stone facade was cracked and worn, its once-imposing door broken and hanging askew. Inside this decrepit tomb, darkness clung to every corner, and the air was thick with the musty scent of decay. In the center of the chamber, a stone sarcophagus rested, its lid shattered into pieces, as if some great force had busted through.

A faint, almost inaudible sound broke the silence—a fragile, gasping breath. Then, a low moan, like a wounded animal, resonated through the tomb. Slowly, as if dragged from the abyss of oblivion itself, a figure began to stir within the shattered sarcophagus. Pale, delicate hands, like porcelain, reached upward, clawing at the air. Slender fingers, nails almost translucent, grasped at the edges of the stone coffin. With a tremendous effort, the frail vampire woman pushed herself up and out of the shattered tomb. Her long, blonde hair cascaded around her like a shroud, concealing her gaunt face. Her skin, ashen and translucent, bore the pallor of death, yet there was a beauty to her that transcended the mortal realm.

The lingering taste of mortal blood rested on her lips, taunting her of what's left. Blinking against the intrusion of the moonlight, her crimson eyes, once dimmed by a century of slumber, flickered to life with a hunger that burned brighter than the stars. Her fangs, long and sharp, glistened like polished onyx as her lips peeled back in a feral, ravenous smile.
    Weak and unsteady, she stumbled out of the tomb, her movements graceful yet hesitant, like a newborn fawn taking its first steps. The scent of blood hung heavy in the air, calling to her with an irresistible allure that overpowered the ache of her long-forgotten hunger.

She followed the scent through the graveyard, each step growing stronger, each heartbeat quickening with anticipation. Her senses heightened, she could hear the rhythmic pulse of life in the veins of the living, feel the warmth of their bodies from a distance.
    And then, she saw him—a lone figure, a wanderer in the night, unaware of the ancient predator that stalked him. Her lips parted, revealing her gleaming fangs, as she descended upon her prey with a hunger that had festered for a century. In that moment, as her lips met the warm flesh of her victim, the frail vampire woman was reborn, her thirst slaked by the sweet nectar of life, her power rekindled by the crimson elixir that flowed through her veins. For the first time in a hundred years, she was no longer a prisoner of the tomb, but a creature of the night, ready to embrace the darkness once more.

Crippling shame washed over the night stalker's pallid complexion as she pushed the dead man's body onto the dirt, watching as he struggled to take his last few breaths. Scrunching her eyelids shut to fabricate a different reality, images of her old family property that she remembers fondly flashed behind her eyes. It reminded her of the life she once lived before she was damned to sleep for decades, or cursed with the unquenchable thirst for human blood.

Dragging her body down the damp streets of Mystic Falls, Virginia, the vampire felt as if her every move was being observed, but she continued on her journey toward the house she hoped was still standing. She grew up in that home, so did her mom, and so on for centuries before her.
    The farmhouse, once a symbol of rural charm and family history, now stood as a weathered relic of a forgotten time. Its faded white paint peeled in patches, and the porch boards sagged under the weight of memories and neglect. Ivy had crept up the sides, wrapping itself around the weathered wood like a shroud.

Lana's bleary eyes surveyed the desolation that surrounded her. The once-lush fields had withered and died, their fertile soil starved of attention for years. Weeds grew with abandon, reclaiming the land that had once provided sustenance to generations of her family. The barn, once filled with the sounds of livestock and the bustle of daily farm life, now stood empty and silent, its doors hanging open like a mournful mouth.

The ancient house, nestled at the edge of the dense forest, appeared deceptively quaint in the pale moonlight. Its timeworn wooden exterior held secrets that spanned generations, and tonight, it beckoned to the frail vampire woman like a long-lost memory. She had returned to this place in search of answers to why she was awakened from her eternal slumber, a connection to her past that had been buried as deeply as her own crypt.

As she cautiously entered the farmhouse, her eyes darted around the dimly lit interior. Dust motes hung suspended in the air, caught in the beams of moonlight that filtered through cracked windows. Old furniture draped with moth-eaten sheets lay abandoned, untouched by human hands for decades. It was as though time itself had abandoned this place. There was an eerie stillness inside, a silence that pressed against her sensitive ears like a heavy shroud. Her footsteps echoed through the empty rooms as she moved from one to the next, her searching gaze never resting. But there was no sign of life, no trace of the family she had once known.

Feeling a sense of desolation and abandonment, she finally stepped back outside into the moonlit night. The shadows of the forest cast long, eerie shapes, and the night was filled with a chorus of nocturnal creatures. It was then that she saw them. Two vampires stood at the edge of the farmhouse grounds, their eyes aglow with an otherworldly amber light. They were young, though not much younger than she, and there was an air of mischief about them that sent a shiver down her spine.

"Welcome back, sister," one of them purred, her voice a siren's song, seductive and haunting. She was a vision of ethereal beauty, her long brown hair cascading like a waterfall over her shoulders.

The other, with curly brown hair and deep brown eyes grinned wickedly. "We've been waiting for you," he added, his eyes filled with a hunger that mirrored the frail vampire woman's own.

Lana approached them cautiously, her senses on high alert. "Who are you?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"We are your bloodline. Your family," the first brown-haired vampire replied, her eyes locking onto the frail woman's with an intensity that was both alluring and unnerving.

"We sensed your return," the second vampire continued, his lips curling into a knowing smile. "And we thought it was time for a family reunion."

The frail vampire woman felt a mixture of emotions welling up within her—confusion, curiosity, and a deep longing for the family she had lost. She had been alone for so long, and the idea of reuniting with her bloodline was both tantalizing and frightening. As the moon bathed them in its silvery glow, the three vampire siblings stood together, a trio of ancient souls, bound by blood and darkness.