Aria Salvatore x Klaus Mikaelson

Happy Birthday

Third POV.

4 months later.

The Salvatore house was a downright pigsty books scattered across the floor in a heap, empty bottles and dirty laundry smeared on every surface.

Damon hobbled into the living room clutching a scotch bottle to his chest. His lips pursed seeing the piles of newspapers on the desk squinting at the daylight shining on his pale face.

Damon waltzed his way over with today's fresh paper, nothing again. No "animal attacks", unexplained or horrific deaths. No messages on leads or hunches, just nothing.

A hollow look filled his face just standing there staring at the bottle in his hands.

He slowly turned around looking at the enlarged photo that was now hung on the wall.

He stared at the three smiling faces this photo from 1862 he'd had covered with a musky blanket in his room for years a few days after his siblings had disappeared he placed it on the wall.

Stefan was sitting in Damon's favourite chair a bright chirpy smile dancing on his face they'd been laughing. Damon would love to remember what the joke was.

Aria was sitting on the floor in the dress she'd been forced to wear a overjoyed smile looking slightly at her brothers.

Damon was sitting on a small stool not high from the floor a hand on her shoulder smiling.

Damon with his tired face held up his glass to the photo a painful smile growing on his lips "Happy Birthday guys" he breathed.

Staring at it for another moment he then swung around on his heel smashing his glass to the wall.

The bubbly fizzy liquid dribbled down the wall hitting the floor like raindrops.

His tousled hair fell messy as his head fell down dropping to his knees. The dim light managing to peek in past the curtains shining on the floor beside him.

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"La da di do do" the man sang grabbing lush bath bombs beginning to juggle them, soon dropping them in the bath that was filled with human blood stirring it like stew.

A small brown house was situated on the outskirts of the quiet side of Pennsylvania. Classical music was blasting gloriously inside but no one lived around this house for miles.

A young girl lay on the marble tiles of the bathroom no older than sixteen her eyes twitching, dry lips quivering watching the man saunter around her bathroom making a bath.

She lay in a puddle of blood whimpering and unable to catch her breath seeing what this demon has done.

Not able to move tears racing down the side of her cheeks getting caught in her dirty blonde hair stained with dry blood.

"You know they say to get the perfect bath you should always add salt" he spoke his shadow louring over.

"The Lord will forgive you if you leave now" she weeped his canine teeth shining in the dim light blood smothering his shirt, mouth and hands.

"Even better a religious girl. How exciting" he mused then yanking her hair dragging her towards the tub she screamed.

"Come on Jen. Stand up. The Lord waits for no one" he drawled.