Damon Salvatore received letters in the early morning. He'd walked down the stairs, preparing for a bright day, but the universe had something else installed.
When the doorbell rang, he opened the door. No one was at the door. No one but a half-burnt pink journal that's been through hell and back. With the morning wind gusting fresh air into Damon's nose. He exhaled at the familiar handwriting of the name; Micah.
It was an urgent rush that forced Damon back into his home with the journal in hand. The fire charred some parts of the thick leather-bound journal. It also reeked of vanilla milkshake and jam sandwich.
"Micah," The whisper flew from Damon's lips. "Micah." He whispered again as cold tears stung his worn cheeks.
Damon rushed back to his bedroom, slamming his door shut with his feet. With haste, he untied the bonds keeping the journal shut. Something white fell from the journal, startling Damon's attention. What in the fucking-
Damon picked up the envelope. The front read; Jeremiah Underwood.
He'd never ripped anything so fast. Even faster than ripping out the throat of a mindless human. Heavy breath loose from his lips, holding his heart hostage. This hefty pain sledgehammered his chest.
'Dear Damon. . .'
Baby Blue eyes flickered from left to right on the letter, taking in every single detail. Nothing was more important than one. When the singing birds trilled, Damon's mind remained on what he was reading.
"No." He growled, falling to his knees. "Micah!"
Damon's throat bobbed at the words repeating. 'Micah is dead.'
"No. NO, NO. NOO. Not you. Not you, Micah." He had no control over his words. The journal fell beside him on the floor, as he cradled himself like a fetus. "What have I done?" The memories came flooding.
Memories of him drinking Micah until there was no rhythm in his heart and no blood pumping his veins.
"Micah." Damon's chest swelled. "My baby."
"Damon," Stefan knocked on his brothers' door. Damon crying on the floor got his attention. "What happened?"
Stefan picked up the letter. He read, his eyes glinting through each word. "I-"
For the first time, Stefan Salvatore had no idea what to say. All he could do was sit by Damon's side, watching as he cried. He's only seen Damon cry a handful of times. That was when they were human.
They sat in silence until the sun rose, and the bird stopped singing. Until Damon walked out the door at a speed. He followed him to the woods.
"Damon, wait." Stefan chased.
Damon growled, clenching his fist as if to rip out his chest. He ought to. He deserved that much.
The big lump of trees wavered past him, their numbers unable to match his pace. A snap of wood had both Damon and Stefan pause. The birds stopped singing. The wind stopped dancing between their fingers. The yellow sun dimmed.
Ravens flew past Stefan, gurgling croaks rising from the back of their throat. One snapped a branch trailing towards Damon. They mocked his sorrows, clapping their wings past him.
"Damon," Stefan called. His heart quickened. He rushed to Damon's side. "What happened?"
"You read the letter." Damon wiped a scratch from his left cheek. Stupid fucking Raven.
"I know. Is he the one you-"
A glint of danger shone in Damon's eyes. He nodded. "Ye-" Another snap of wood.
The sun fluttered light away, embracing eternal darkness.
Stefan blinked, checking his watch. "It's only 8 a.m." He stood his ground. "What's happening?"
"Micah's last rite." Damon closed his eyes at the mention of his lover. The tears subsided for now. Next time they returned, Damon would give them his last rite.
"Last rite?"
A nod.
"My heart is black as night. I remember- I killed him." Weakness held Damon's knees hostage. "I killed him," He placed his hands behind his head. "How could I kill him?"
Stefan said nothing. But watched as a flicker of shadow hovered before him and Damon. "Damon." He called. "Look."
Damon opened his eyes when the shadow settled. His widened.
He looked into familiar silver-crimson eyes. The shadow stared at him hastily, which eased his heart. Damon's knees buckled at the beauty that haunted him day and night.
A man who was full of storms and death. "Micah?"
The shadow grinned. "My stupid idiot."
He even sounded the same. That same stupidly deep voice that always soothed him and made him fall in love. Damon could never decide if Micah's voice was soft deep or fruity.
"Micah." Damon cried, stepping forward. The shadow cleared as the sun swallowed darkness again. "I'm sorry."
"He's at peace now." Stefan placed a hand on Damon's shoulder.
"Death is not the end for Grimms, Stefan. Wherever he is now. He's now a reaper."
"A reaper?"
"Yes. He'll be in hell for all eternity to reap souls."
-
The Dark Creator entered the training Hall in Dark Dominion; Helliom as The Reaper of Dawn trained with ruthless efficiency, striking down his opponent faster than time could quiver.
"You've done well." The Dark Creator's smoky voice drawled. "I have a mission for you."
The Reaper of Dawn stepped forward, twisting two arming swords into their sheaths. "What kind of mission?" A lopsided grin etched on The Reaper of Dawn's lips.
The Dark Creator placed a folder on the desk before him. "I want you to take out a woman named Katherine Pierce. She's causing trouble. Big trouble," The Dark Creator's Brown honeyed eyes held beckoning danger. "You can do that, can't you?"
The Reaper of Dawn glanced at the folders. Every detail is written down, along with pictures of a group of people. One more familiar than the others.
"I thought she was dead?"
"She was." Dark Creator sat on the chair provided for him. "You see, at the end of their story, The Organization decided they could be useful. We brought Stefan and Enzo back. They didn't even notice. Our only mistake was, we brought out the wrong person. Now she's out of grasp."
"Katherine Pierce." A ruthless smile graced The Reaper of Dawn's lips. "Where is she now?"
"Last we heard, The Hope Mikaelson of Jedrzej's residing world became a tribrid. Hope helped her escape."
"So a teenager bested The Organization?"
A sweet chuckle. "No one bests The Organization," Dark Creator grinned. "We want to see how Hope will play with Nora."
"Nora?"
"Yes. Your offspring has a destiny alongside the Mystical tribrid of the Anecnei universe. So while the tribrid has fulfilled the destiny set for her. It's time for the real game. They're both in Los Angelos. in Anecnei."
The Reaper of Dawn tilted his head. "I don't see where I come in, Lord."
"You don't come in," Dark Creator closed the folder. "You are a reaper. You watch them and eradicate anyone who dares to stop their destiny. Painfully, of course." He stood tall, a grin of dominance in his hungry, seductive eyes. "Can you do that for me?"
He tapped his sharp talons on the folder, awaiting The Reaper of Dawn's answer.
"I won't fail." The Reaper of Dawn picked the folder. "If I may ask, what is their destiny?"
"They are the bridge of a new birth." Dark Creator turned from The Reaper of Dawn. "Good luck."
The Reaper of Dawn walked away.
-
Hope Mikaelson ran into a dark corner of a street in Los Angelos, hiding from the shadows that chased her. "If you think you can hurt me, think again." She held out her hand. Her Iris glowed orange with veins crawling underneath her eyes. Her sharp fangs protruded from her gums. Four sharp fangs.
"Well, there you are." Nora Underwood grinned. "Hello, Hope." Her eyes glowed saffron blue.
Hope scowled, flinging powerful magic at Nora. Her girlfriend covered the attack. No. Ex-Girlfriend.
Fire and ice fought.
"Nora, love." Hope panted.
"Don't Love Me." Nora slammed Hope to the wall. "I told you I needed Katherine alive."
Hope held Nora's face, her fangs retracting into her gums. "She's alive. I promise."
"She better."
Fire flung at Nora, throwing her back. Hope cracked her neck. "Well, it seems it's easy to break down your walls." As she was about to jump at Nora, a flashing cloudless light appeared behind Nora, dragging her by her feet.
"Hope." Nora cried. "Help." A whirling portal lustered behind her, sucking her in from toe to stomach.
Hope rushed at Nora. "Hold my hand." She hissed, tossing her hand forward.
She was so close.
Then, a sharp silver dagger stabbed into Nora's chest, pushing her into the portal. Hope watched with wide eyes as the portal closed before she could jump in. "Nora!"
Shadow fumed behind Hope. With the stealth of a tigress and the bright eyes of a lioness. "Hello, Hope Mikaelson."
The voice behind Hope was dead. As she was.
"Nora was a warning. Stay out of our way." The shadow disappeared into the night.
That was when Hope turned, shaking and crying. "Nora," She clutched her chest. "My baby."
The Reaper of Dawn watched from a building top. Hopes words blinding him with blurred memories. 'MY GRUMPY IDIOT.'
He shook his head, jumping stealthily down the building. He prowled after Hope who walked down the street, wringing herself in a hug.
'Nothing will ever separate us, Micah.'
He closed his eyes, fighting the battle of his mind. "I know."
He whispered, following the echoes of sirens chasing down the street.
----
Nora fell right on the steps of the Salvatore boarding house in the Uridesc world. Breathing hastily, she pressed a hand to her bleeding chest.
One pound. Two pound. Three-
Damon Salvatore opened the door, hissing.
Nora glanced up at her father, a twisted grin on her mischievous face. "Hey. . . Daddio." She muttered.
Damon furrowed his brows at Nora, kneeling by her side, as her eyes closed.
"Nora?"