꧁ CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN ꧂
𝐼 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝐼'𝑚 𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑦 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑑，
𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑛𝑜𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑦 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙
𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑓𝑓𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒
[ SLIGHT WARNING ]
I kind of aimed for this chapter to be creepy. there's a bit of psychological mess-ups and a bit of blood/murder and ickiness so if you don't like that just skip this chapter I guess.
But, I mean, most of us watched Elijah decapitate Trevor, so you should be all good. This warning just for those with incredibly weak stomachs i guess (It isn't too bad)
ᴇᴠᴇʀɢʀᴇᴇɴ-ʀᴏsᴇ ᴘᴏᴠ
━━━ BLOOD.
It's a curious substance. Slightly thicker than water, yet it is essential to most beings that breathe. It's not often that I think about it, and I didn't back then either, until that moment. That moment in which the very essential liquid (once I had left Stefan and Damon to look for Elena) began to pour from my mouth.
It started off small at first. So small I didn't even notice. A metallic taste filled my mouth as I turned to leave, and soon after I had begun to cough, before it splattered across the clothes I had changed into. My head, which had for so long been clear of the voices that once haunted it, was consumed once again. The sounds of the dead that I often had under control began to play in my mind as if they were created with the intention to drive me insane.
Blurriness was all that could be seen. Distant objects were not visible, and a soft ringing accompanied those of the dead. It started small, before it began to feel like my mind was torturing itself mercilessly. A punishment, I knew. Using the magic of others, especially of the dead, had grave consequences when you no longer had any of your own.
Through the haziness of my mind and the tears of pain, my memory grew foggy as I made my way towards the bathroom. It was not far from where I had met both Damon and Stefan, so the journey was not as long as I thought, despite it feeling as though it had taken hours.
Leaning on the edge of the sink, I used it to lift myself up, and in good time too since the blood began to pour in the sink. I coughed, trying to breathe, all whilst trying to ward off the piercing headache and the voices.
"Get out of my head," I whispered, harshly, crying with anger and pain, though I knew I had no commandment over the dead. I ran my hands through my hair repeatedly, and tried to find comfort by rocking back and forth, but they did not yield.
ʰᵃⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ʷⁱᵗᶜʰ! 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚢, 𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚞𝚙 𝔜𝔬𝔲'𝔯𝔢 𝔞 𝔪𝔬𝔫𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯
𝕃𝕠𝕠𝕜 𝕒𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕞𝕪 𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕝𝕕𝕣𝕖𝕟, 𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕖, 𝕀 𝕓𝕖𝕘 𝕠𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦
ᵐᵒⁿˢᵗᵉʳˢ ʳᵒᵃᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ 𝙄 𝙙𝙞𝙙 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙘𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙤𝙬𝙣
𝔜𝔬𝔲'𝔯𝔢 𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔪
ꪻꫝꫀ ᧁﺃꪶ᥇ꫀ᥅ꪻ ᥅ﺃꪀᧁ, ꪻꫝꪮꪊᧁꫝ ᜣꪮ᭙ꫀ᥅ᠻꪊꪶ, ꫝꪖᦓ ᥴꪮꪀᦓꫀꪇꪊꫀꪀᥴꫀᦓ. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴 for 𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝓃𝒶𝓉𝓊𝓇ℯ Tʜᴇ ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇs ᴀʀᴇɴ'ᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʀ
I curse your name forever
𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐍 ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘʳˢ
𝐺𝑒𝑡 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑜𝑢𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑠
𝘉𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦， 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘺
"GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"
The mirrors shattered.
Some were large pieces, others were small, but every one of them shattered, and I hid underneath the sink, barely registering the pain of a few of them piercing my skin.
I felt helpless.
Helplessness, as a witch, is something incredibly difficult to feel, but in that moment I was consumed by it. There was something on my heart weighing me down and as much as I tried to get rid of it, it clung on tighter, never letting go. Something had to be a substitute for the magic I had lost, and in my case it was pain.
I tucked my knees up to my chest and buried my face in my arms, wishing for them to leave me alone.
"Eva," a soft voice stood out amongst the others, ultimately silencing them, but I glared at my hands, which were covered in blood.
"Yeah?" my voice broke.
"You've been using too much magic."
I almost laughed.
"Nah," I shook my head, sniffling, blinking away the tears, clearing my throat. "I'm just having a bad reaction to the hospital food."
Emily, who had appeared by my side, frowned.
"It was sarcasm," I pointed out, coughing into my arm, before swallowing down the bitter taste and leaning the back of my head on the cold wall. I closed my eyes in pain. "But yeah. I didn't notice."
"You need to take it easy. Push yourself too far and you won't be brought back from the Other Side."
"What even is this?" I felt the blood in the back of my throat, and I spat it out beside me, choking on a sob before scrunching my face up in exhaustion. "Why do I come back from the dead?"
"Everly–"
"Just tell me," I whispered. "Please."
She stared at me for a moment, contemplating the words she would say next. I, however, was oblivious to the inner workings of her mind. I didn't know how she actually contemplated telling me the truth, I didn't know how she was disobeying what she was told to do, and I didn't know that she would suffer a punishment because of it.
"I can't," she said, almost sadly. The corners of her eyes downturned and she averted her gaze. "But what I can tell you is that you need to heal. Or die, so that you can heal. You're losing too much blood."
"It's not that much," I tried to argue, weakly.
"Wipe away your tears, Eva."
I frowned in confusion before lifting my hand up and wiping them away, but something was wrong. Whatever I had wiped away, it was thicker than water and as I looked towards my hands, they were covered in red.
"Oh my god."
"Eva–" Emily looked at me with reproachful eyes. "If you die on your own terms, you can cross over to your side as soon as you wake up. If you die because of using magic, it will take days."
"So, what?" I chuckled as I cried, and blood spilt between my lips, staining my teeth. "What do you want me to do, exactly?"
Instantly, Lexi, Joey, Henrik and Rue appeared beside her, each wearing the same expression. The same regretful, sad expression. The expression that answered all my questions.
"We'll be here," Lexi promised, whilst the rest of them nodded.
"We always will be," Henrik promised, and I shook my head, harshly wiping away the tears.
"I hate this."
"We know," Rue whispered, and she took a hold of my hand. "But you'll be okay."
I looked at her with bloodshot eyes, before they trailed to the broken mirror.
°:. *₊ ° . ° .•
I didn't wake up on the Other Side.
I woke up just where I was. On the ground, surrounded by blood and mirrors, but something was wrong. The air was heavier, and the world was quiet.
Too quiet.
The pain in my side had dulled down to an ache, same as the pain in my head, and although it was slippery I used the sink as an aid to stand up. The white lights overhead flickered and I frowned as it completely shut down.
Weird.
Using the wall as support I pulled open the door harshly and stumbled through it. I didn't know exactly what someone would think when they saw the mess – it looked like a murder scene – but I didn't care.
Something was wrong. Something was off about the world I had woken up to. I couldn't pinpoint it, but perhaps it was because all the lights were off. Or, that they were hanging from the ceiling, broken and flickering. Or maybe, just perhaps, it was the bloody handprints smeared across the walls, or the wires that hung down, sparking electricity and illuminating the dead bodies on the floor.
My eyes widened.
What the hell happened?
A large bang echoed through the building, and I instantly flinched before I pressed my back against one of the walls, covering my mouth with my hand, feeling tears spill across them as I closed my eyes. Panic radiated through my body because I knew I was too exhausted and in too much pain to do anything to defend myself. Only one thought raced through my head, and it repeated like an alarm.
Don't let them hear you.
"Hello?" a voice echoed, croaking, and I heard the sound of a foot shuffling. "Is anyone there? I need – I need help."
The breath caught in my throat as my eyes opened, wide, in shock.
I knew that voice.
Peaking my head around the corner, the familiar curled and messy head of hair upon the pale face made my jaw drop as I watched him hold his stomach with one hand and his neck in the other, blood pouring from whatever wound he had obtained.
"Henrik?" I whispered, and my voice caught his attention. It was as if he was frozen, suspended in time. His outfit had reverted back to his viking clothes, and I walked up to him, frowning as he didn't move.
"See what you did?"
I immediately stopped walking. His mouth had moved, but his features were stoic, not having moved at all. And it wasn't his voice.
It was a girl's voice. A little girl's voice, and her giggle echoed continuously through the hallway as he removed his hands from his neck and his torso, exposing large injuries that looked almost exactly like mine. His wolf injuries – his injuries from his death in another lifetime – and blood poured from them.
I backed away carefully, my eyes wide as my breath caught in my throat.
"This isn't real," I whispered, before turning around, meaning to run but instead I stopped. There was no longer any corner to turn to, and instead the hallway extended forever into a pit of darkness. I felt my heart drop as Joey appeared, his mouth moving but the girl speaking once again.
"See what you did?" the girls voice giggled.
"I – I didn't," I shook my head in denial. "I – Joey –"
His face contorted into an evil grin as he approached me, and I backed away, tears running down my face as panic took over. I felt so helpless, so imprisoned, so scared.
But within moments he stopped.
And he started choking.
His hand trailed to his throat and I lunged forwards to stop him, but water started to spill from his mouth. Countless buckets worth of water, and I didn't know how to help as it spilled all over my hands.
"Joey – Joey no – please–"
He fell in front of me, still holding his throat as he died, and I stumbled back in shock, my headache growing as I looked towards his body. Someone – a boy I had never seen before – appeared next to it, before crouching. He had on a malicious grin as he stared, but then he noticed me.
"Oh – hi!" he said totally innocently, before standing, but there was just something wrong about him. "I see you've met my brother," he looked down towards Joey's body, and I paled in realisation. He kicked Joey's hand and grimaced before shrugging. "Yeah, he got in my way, and I killed him."
I stepped backwards, eyeing him wearily.
"Well – he didn't even get in my way," the boy laughed and he shook his head like it was a joke. "He was just – there. You know – just like your brother was."
My hands felt tingly, and I looked down to see them covered in blood. His blood. My eyes widened as I tried to wipe it off on my clothes, but it simply spread it further.
The girl's giggles echoed once again and I let out a deep, shaky, weak breath, feeling my heart pounding against my chest as I turned around once again. I stopped in my tracks, freezing, the blood upon my hands suddenly feeling like a thousand weights.
"No."
Sammy.
"Leave me alone," I whispered, backing away. "Please – please leave me alone!"
But he kept walking forwards. "But I want you to see what you did!" Sammy said simply, grinning maniacally. He was in his toy story pyjamas, with blood matted in his hair, the same distant look in his eyes from when he had died. "And what you will do! Nothing compares to the carnage your existence will bring."
"You're – you're not real," I shook my head, harshly wiping away my tears as I backed away from him, but he kept on approaching, a wicked smile resting on his face. "You – you're –"
"Dead?" the girls voice said, giggling, using his mouth as a way to communicate. "Of course he is, silly! But, you haven't accepted that, have you?"
"Listen, I don't know who the hell you are," I snapped towards Sammy, but an unfazed smile rested on his face as he clasped his hands behind his back. "But you need to get the hell out of my head."
Turning around once more, I narrowed my eyes, trying to calm down the racing of my heart. Multiple people, whom I'd never met, were staring at me, their expressions warped into fury.
"And who the hell are you guys?" I snapped, fed up with everything at this point.
"We're a coven," a young adult said, and her expression was laced with grief. She bowed her head and looked at her chest, just as every other woman did, and I stared, confused, before blood began to spread from the area their heart was. She looked up, helplessly, with tears in her eyes. "Why would you do this to us?"
"I –" I shook my head, wiping tears from my eyes, and spreading the blood on my hands further as my breathing grew heavy. "I wouldn't. I would never–"
"Oh, but you do," one of the older woman sneered. "For him. As if our lives mean nothing whatsoever."
"Him?" I questioned, confused. "Who the hell is him? Sammy?"
They simply glared, before holding their hands out, and chanting.
And then my brain felt like it was on fire.
I screamed in pain, holding the sides of my head as I collapsed to the ground. "Stop it!" I screamed, and to my complete and utter surprise, it did.
I didn't open my eyes to see the damage I had caused.
"Well, that was impressive," a voice echoed, and I frowned, never having heard it before. It was British, and although I had a few friends when I was a child in London, it was not familiar. I lifted my head to stare into a male with warm brown eyes and a smirk as he stared at me. His clothes looked old, rugged, as if they had once been a smart dress suit but had grown outdated.
As if he had realised he was staring, he offered me his hand, and I looked at it wearily before taking it.
I breathed out shakily, avoiding his eyes that were, for some odd reason, incredibly comforting. Blood was no longer on my hands, and my clothes had changed into a dress. I grimaced slightly, not liking how uncomfortable it made me feel before turning back to him.
"And who are you?" I questioned, ready for another round of torture. "You're not one of my childhood friends. And no one in Mystic Falls is British."
He laughed. "Darling, I'm a tad bit older than your childhood friends."
I narrowed my eyes at the obvious hidden meaning as I attempted to tug my hand out of his grip that had grown increasingly warm.
"Vampire," I hissed, but he smirked. Maliciously.
"I'm hurt, darling, truly," he didn't let go of my arm, but instead placed his free left hand on the right side of his chest mockingly. "Is it just me you think this way of or is it the entire species?"
"Your heart is on the other side, genius," I snapped in annoyance. "And I swear to god, I will make you regret it if you don't let me go."
"Oh, but why?" his smirk grew wider, but something flickered in his eyes. "You certainly won't be able to. Let me go, I mean."
I frowned before my face contorted into confusion. "What are you talking about?"
His smirk faded slowly, before his gaze turned towards the arm he was holding. It had gotten really, really, hot, and I watched as his face slowly began to peel. He looked towards me with wide eyes.
He looked scared. And sad.
"Evergreen-Rose, can you hear me?" an American voice that sounded vaguely familiar asked from his lips, and in his moment of weakness I tore my arm away, just before he caught fire.
His scream was one of the worst things I had ever heard in my life.
"See what you did?"
I closed my eyes, on my last straw before I turned around. Somehow, I knew this would be different. Different to the other time I had turned just to face another person.
And I was right.
When I opened my eyes, the landscape was simply black. Never ending darkness, infinite nothingness, except somehow I was visible. Just like the little girl in front of me was visible.
The little girl who looked exactly like me, carrying the baby that had grown into me.
Because, they were both me.
Baby-me cried in child-me's arms, and was so small I could've sworn she was a newborn. Child-me looked expressionless, however, I couldn't help but notice the symbols that were written on her wrists in what looked like blood. They looked ancient, so ancient that I couldn't even identify them, but they didn't faze her.
"See what you did?" she giggled as the baby in her arms cried, and everyone appeared behind her.
Jenna, with blood pouring from her eyes. Alaric, dessicated. Damon and Stefan, dessicated, Matt, bitten on the side of the neck, Caroline, a slit across the neck, Tyler, a broken neck. Braelynn was desiccated, Jeremy had tattoos trailing up his arm that were covered in blood. Rue, Henrik, Lexi, Joey, even Joey's brother, Davina, Vincent, and the brown-haired vampire were there, as well as many people that I had never seen before.
But, to her side, stood Sammy.
And my mom. And my Dad.
And somehow, I knew, it was all my fault.
Walking up to me, I flinched as child-me handed me the baby. She, oddly, had a soft smile as she did so, and she stared lovingly at the baby.
But, as soon as she handed me the baby, it began to choke on blood.
"No," I whispered with wide eyes. "No–!"
I began to mutter spells. Faster than I ever had before, all whilst Child-me smiled contently.
"Don't you see?" Child-me whispered incredulously, as the baby died. "It's all. Your. Fault. You're poison, Evergreen-Rose."
"Can you hear me Evergreen-Rose?" Sammy questioned, and I sobbed as I felt the life of the child fade.
"Why are you doing this to me?" I whispered as my voice broke. "Why won't you fucking leave me alone?"
"You're an abomination," a man with dirty blond curls simply said, his smile malicious as he flashed werewolf eyes. But I blinked as I thought I was hallucinating. I could swear I saw veins swirling under his eyes too, but it was gone before I could confirm it.
"No one should defy death as much as you have," Sammy said, tilting his head to the side. "It's not natural."
"I didn't choose this!" I screamed. "I never wanted this!"
"I don't think she can hear us," Jenna said softly.
"Come on, Darling," the British from earlier said softly. He whispered it, almost like he was praying. "Wake up."
"WAKE UP!"
°:. *₊ ° . ° .•
It was bright.
A hospital is a place where some go to die, and some people fight to stay alive. It had never made sense to me why a place that should also bring comfort during the hard times was so white. But, I suppose, it wouldn't make much difference if it was coloured, or if there were more throw pillows. Because, if someone died, they're still dead (most of the time), and a colourful room wouldn't change that fact.
It wouldn't make anyone forget, and it wouldn't lessen the grief.
The incessant beeping was also rather annoying, but I guess it would be slightly inconvenient if that stopped working.
"Oh, look who's awake," a familiar American voice said, and I blinked repeatedly, realising that the reason the world was bright was because I was staring into a torch. Turning my head, I noticed Alaric and Jenna, both in visitor chairs, and I frowned in confusion, going to speak before I was hushed by one of the doctors.
"We just have to take this out," he pointed to something in my mouth, and that's when I realised that I had a breath tube in my mouth. "Breathe in deeply," he instructed, and I did so. "Now cough."
Taking out the breathing tube was incredibly uncomfortable, but I didn't complain, not even when it felt as though my throat was burning.
"Your heart rates dropping," the doctor noticed. "That's good, we were a bit worried." I opened my mouth to speak, but he hushed me again. "Your throat will probably be sore," he informed me. "It's best to relax for a while. It's lucky your friend Stefan caught you as you fainted. Could have been a lot worse."
I frowned in confusion.
So none of it was real?
I looked towards Jenna and Alaric, but for a moment all I could see was their dead bodies and I grimaced before turning my head away.
"Eva?" Jenna questioned softly, but she felt a million miles away. "What's wrong?"
Everything.
Do you see what I'll do?
"Nothing," I whispered. "Just a bad dream."