IRIDESCENT - DAMON SALVATORE¹✔

2. NUMBNESS

『26 Salvatore Boarding house,
Mystic falls Virginia
September 20th, 2006

DEAR DAMON

One year later. Here I am again.

I hope, wherever you are, that you're well.

I often try to stop myself from thinking about you during the long nights. I don't want you to feel guilty about your choice. You made a very bold decision that separated us.

I don't know why, but for whatever reason, I tell myself how selfish I would have been if I were in your shoes. I tell myself that I would rather die than separate from you, and breathe different air than you.

You make me weak to my bones.

I don't know what lurking danger you want to save me from because I know you'll never allow danger to be near me. It has to mean something.

The letter. Our love. Your reasons. I can't help but think over it all,

I know for days, weeks, and months I would stand on the porch, always waiting for your return. Not only that, but I even brought out the old hammock, you bought out of desperation. You had hopes of us laying on it at night, staring at the beautiful endless night sky.

Every so often, I bring myself to pull out the old bonfire and make a wish. I remember how much you loved bonfires. How you would stare at the night sky, telling me your wishes about our lives.

I have memories of us lying down on the grass of our backyard, waiting for a wishing star. When it shoots across the sky, you close your eyes so tight, I fear they would burst.

Did you know what I wished for?
I wished nothing would ever separate us, but I see now my wish never came true.

We talked about what we wish to achieve in life, and you always asked what my dream was about. I tell you I wanted to open a sandwich shop because that was all I ate most of the time. That was until you came along, but it never stopped being my favorite meal.

I know among every food you cooked for me, Jam sandwich was your favorite to prepare. Different variations of sandwiches. You know very well, whether it was milk or a sandwich, I would eat or drink anything after a long day at work.

I still remember how annoyed you became when I started training instead of resting. So you always forced me to our bed, telling me I needed the energy for another boring day at work.

Enough talk about all that.

I do have news.

Okay, I set a trap for a demon who has proved to be a nuance this past few months.
He's always threatening to maim me and everyone I love.

The vermin had friends come to his rescue.

GOOD. I wanted that. I wanted them to fall into my trap.

What is that saying?

Kill two birds with one stone?

Although fighting those vermin alone in a bar. These things have names. That was one of the things they said after torturing me. They once captured me a few months ago after I followed one to their den. They each had a turn skinning me. So I vowed my revenge would be sweet and painful.

The first demon, I took out with his powers. He blasted fire my way, although he had been stupid enough not to notice alcohol makes the fire worse.

All I had to do was tire him out first.

Not enough time, but enough for his other friend who reeked of the booze I threw at him to arrive. Risky, I know. He wanted to firebomb me, instead, I dodged, and his friend became ashes.

One problem solved. Six to go.

I told them Dark Creator sent me to take them out, and they cowered long enough for me to pull out Charlotte. My precious golden arming sword. I ran Charlotte through them, swiftly. One by one.

Something had taken over me. A change I've never felt before. A surge of power—of darkness. All I knew was, they didn't live a second longer.

After my mission, I headed back to the organization to report to Dark Creator.

He's always so quiet, sometimes Stoic like he's got a stick up his ass.

Never mind. He's an asshole.

Numen's hell, I still remember when I stupidly thought I could take out Dark Creator and live to tell the tale.

Stupid me.

Sporadically, I wish I could claw out of my boring as fuck life because my days are darker than night. My heart is as empty as it was before you entered my life.

After all your influence was to make me feel better, to make me feel good. I don't want it shoved down the drain.

I still have your cherry chapstick as one of the reminders I have of you. I try to use it sparingly. Reminding myself to hang onto these reminders because they're so fucking precious. They keep me sane most nights when I don't feel like flipping a table.

Sometimes memories and reminders are not enough compared to you.

I'm still angry and I miss you.

I do hope that wherever you are, you miss me too.

LOVE,
MICAH UNDERWOOD

P.S; DON'T DRAIN A TOWN OF BLOOD.

—-
PSSST: I hope you catch the little hints for book two.