Darkling || The Vampire Diaries [3]

01: Never Let Me Go

   When I had no humanity, I had grown accustomed to the three months I was kept in the cellar. It was a timeless place, dark, with a certain stench of old blood. The moment where I opened my eyes and found myself back in the cellar, I wasn't able to breathe. My limbs contracted as I tried to pull my arms from the burning ropes, my chest aching with each little movement. There was a ringing in my ear, a buzz, like being uncomfortably close to a horn.

   My mind raced with the images of my teeth sinking into necks, drinking people dry and enjoying every moment of it. I remembered the moments where I had no humanity, each and every one. Teeth gracing against skin, blood dripping from my fingers and mouth, bodies dropping around my feet as I moved without a care.

   "Sorry, Love," a soft voice said.

   I looked up from the ropes to see Enzo walk in. There were gloves in his hands, and he was holding a water bottle with little violet petals floating around. I remembered meeting him in the streets as I was making my way to Caroline's house, how he injected me with vervain in the neck and said he was on Lily's side.

   "Enzo..." My voice shook as his name left my mouth.

   He stopped in front of me and leaned down a bit. "It will only hurt for a second." He opened the bottle and began to pour its contents over the ropes. "Deep breaths, Clara."

   The moment the liquid touched my skin, I screamed. It was a familiar burn, one that I knew more than anything else in the world. I had drank vervain, had it poured over me, had someone wrap their vervain-soaked hand around my heart. Vervain was a familiar burn, more than the kisses from someone I loved.

   I breathed through gritted teeth, my hands tightening their holds on the arms of the chair. "What is wrong with you?" I hissed at him. 

   "Someone killed Malcolm," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. "Lily needs to retaliate."

   "By torturing me?" I let out a groan and flexed my fingers, hoping that the pain would somehow subdue. "I had nothing to do with Malcolm's death!" Flashes of Damon and Stefan pouring vervain on me appeared, their distinct voices saying that I should turn on my humanity. 

   Enzo grabbed the back of the chair and pushed his face closer to mine. "Look, be happy I'm the one who grabbed you," he softly hissed. "I don't want to think what would happen if the others did. I'm the closest thing you have as a friend in here."

   "Friends?" I resisted the urge to spit on his face. "Friends don't really like being tied up with vervain ropes. No matter how kinky you think they are."

   "You've been here before," he said in a nonchalant tone, standing tall. "Three months, wasn't it?"

   I clenched my jaw, my lips trembling still. The images of being in the cellar flashed through my mind again, over and over. The three months I had spent in the dark, bled out over and over again, tortured with images of my past and murder. I knew it was because they wanted me to turn on my humanity, but the pain was still there. Never did I imagine being back in the cellar, tied up on a chair with vervain ropes. I needed to get out. 

   Enzo turned to get out, pulling off the gloves and throwing them to the side.

   "Enzo, please!" I didn't need to fake the tears, because the pain was enough to bring them out. The images were enough to bring them out. "Please..."

   He stopped and turned towards me, his face showing no emotions. Despite what he had done, I saw the look in his eyes. It reminded me of the look he had when we went to Georgia to find Stefan, the look when he found me crying outside the house. After several seconds of just staring, he sighed and walked back towards me. "I hate whiners," he said, kneeling down and loosening the ropes around my arms.