Civil Twilight
Civil Twilight
By: Megan
Chapter 8: Boxed In Part 2
Author's Note: This continuation of Boxed In Part 1 was originally supposed to be longer, but several scenes were cut due to a new idea that I have adopted for the story. The timeline will include flashbacks and flashforwards now in the continuing chapters, so these scenes will resurface then. Just to clear that up, enjoy.
Walking quickly down the hall as silently as he possibly could, Damon elected not to use his speed to leave the house, as it could have drawn to much attention to anyone in the shadows. Looking down at the floor, he could faintly see the outlines of multiple bodies. Shit. He thought to himself. Iscariot was there, and whatever they wanted, they meant business.
The outlines of the bodies came into focus with startling detail, as in a split second the lights snapped back on. Damon squinted slightly, as the change didn’t affect him so much, he adapted quickly. And, standing in front of him was a 6-foot tall man. With blond hair and green eyes, wearing his own smirk. The type that had ‘victory’ written all over it. Damon felt the warmth from Elena’s head on his shoulder, and he could feel the blood from the wound on her leg begin to trickle in between his fingers.
“This is absolutely perfect. The infamous Damon Salvatore boxed in.”
Damon was not nearly paying attention to the significance of the words his assailant spoke as much as he was the accent. The man was clearly English, maybe with that heavy of a dialect from Wales. That was something to start with after he got Elena out of there.
“Well, I see that my reputation proceeds me. I’ve obviously never met you before. Perhaps you could tell me your name?”
The man laughed with a smooth menace.
“Really, Damon? Always trying to be to smart for your own good. No, you’ll find out that answer in good time. I’m just here for you and your brother.”
“Now, why would you want to kill us? I’ve been on good behavior haven’t I? Only several humans a week. It’s not like I’ve bled the town dry.”
“Well, you see Damon, you don’t need to turn a town into your own personal Gas and Sip for us to track you down. And our intentions towards you and your brother are merely business oriented.”
“What?”
Now that was unexpected. Damon decided he had to decide on his next angle, and fast. If he was going to find out anything about what Iscariot was up to.
“What would Iscariot want me to do?”
The man smiled. “Iscariot? No, I work for this gentleman they call The Man. And you will learn about The Man. And what The Man wants is a little somethin’ somethin’ that only you can get for us.”
Perfect. That information was plenty to go of off. And now to change tactics…
“I can be persuaded to do business for you if you let me take care of something.”
“That isn’t how this works.”
“You see this girl I have in my arms? She’s shot, and if I don’t get her out of her and to a medical facility within the next hour she’s going to die.”
“Well that ‘s just unfortunate, isn’t it?”
“Please… get out of my way.”
“No.”
“Get out of my way, or I will make you get out of my way.”
“Playing the role of the dangerous animal are you?”
“Excuse me?”
“We know what you’re up to. What you are.”
“You know what I am…” Damon looked down at the several bodies at his feet, two large, big boned men at his left.
“…Bored.” And, making sure to throw Elena to the side as gently as he could, Damon lunged forward at the man in the charcoal gray suit. Falling on the school’s linoleum floor, Damon heard his assailant’s arm crack under his grip. He must have managed a clean break to the bone. Taking a quick glance to the side, Damon saw with relief that Elena had fallen precisely unto the bodies on the floor, so as she was not hurt when he had let her go.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
The man underneath him smiled, and taking his two arms out from being pinned underneath Damon’s waist, we grabbed hold of Damon’s forehead and squeezed with magnificent force, despite the broken bone that he had just been delivered when he hit the floor.
“You will not know the answer to that question if I’m dead.”
And, flinging Damon off of him, the man stood up and went to stand over where Damon had fallen on his side. Grabbing hold of his shirt, the man delivered several good punches clean smack on Damon’s face while he was still down. Kicking the man in the shin, Damon stood up, his eyes now piercing violet red, the black and blue veins becoming visible on his face.
And, as his fangs elongated, Damon bent down ready to take a good chuck out of the man’s neck, right when he felt a hand on his shoulder, holding him back. It was Stefan.
“Don’t. We need him for information.”
She could not understand why she had decided to come. Her feet seemed to say one thing, carrying her on their own accord to the front door of the Salvatore house, but her mind said another. She swore that every time she thought of him the nerves in her brain shriveled at the ends, because, quite honestly, he confused the hell out of her. He would say something of menacing fury, and deliver in equal measure. And then, at times, he would say one thing, and then do another, something kind and uncharacteristic. Out of the ordinary, a glimpse of something entirely foreign and new to the usual profile of the man that she had been accustomed to, however briefly.
She didn’t know how it could not have been genuine, though. The story that he had told her. It seemed to real to simply have been fabricated. She still hadn’t asked Stefan about the truth of Katherine’s mortal sister, Clara, and whether or not she had burned in the fire. Maybe she was afraid of what Stefan might say, shattering the allusion that Damon was telling nothing but the truth.
Knocking on the door, she took a breath to reassure herself that this was indeed the right thing to do, before the nagging voice in the back of her mind began to speak. He would take this as a tool; convert what was a heartfelt and genuine gesture into a punch line to hurt her or Stefan’s priceless ego in the future. So, she turned sharply onto her heel to leave, until she heard the creek of the door opening behind her. And, Elena turned to see Damon standing in it’s opening.
She admitted that whenever she saw him, the muscles in her chest danced around and constricted. Elena could never decide whether this was a good or bad thing.
“I’m sorry but Stefan’s not here right now.”
“I’m not here to see Stefan.”
Damon’s features in confusion, and he looked at her almost as if he was concerned.
“I’m here to see you, actually.”
And, Elena saw the look on Damon’s face to be one of genuine surprise.
“I have to say something, and please don’t interrupt and make me regret coming here. When you picked me up in the parking lot that night last month, I thought that it was a ploy to make Stefan upset, or to prove a point. And, that it just so happened that helping me was a way of accomplishing that. But, last week, when I was shot and… just you saved my life, okay? And, despite not having the best track record in the world, you did that for me. I will never forget it.”
There was a long moment of silence. It was fraught with some big emotion. But, before it could be broken, before Damon seemed to break from the stasis of apparent shock that he was in and actually open his mouth to say something, Elena turned and left as quickly as she had shown up in the first place. She didn’t want to hear what Damon had to say, no matter what it might have been.
Lying in the guest bedroom, despite that he should probably been up and out, Damon laid there on his back on the mattress, his eyes fixed on the paneled ceiling. The fact that Elena had actually shown up in the first place, despite the intention, it seemed just to strange. Almost enough to make the moment seem insignificant. Although, it stuck out in the sea of the countless images that had cluttered the files of his brain for all those years. He just didn’t want to think about it. But, every second of the encounter kept coming back, as if he was looking at the entire absurd thing from another perspective, outside of himself.
Without warning, a sudden sensory impulse overtook him, and Damon made his way down the stairs. For some reason he could swear… and then he was at a loss. What had it been that made him get up? There it was again. The sense of a faint familiar smell, several lost words and memories bubbled up to the surface, all too familiar.
Someone was at the door.
And walking towards it, Damon put his hand on the knob, swinging it open. And, sure enough, standing just outside was someone, looking straight at him. A petite blond with long curly hair and green eyes.
“Clara?”
It was impossible.
“Hello, Damon.”
To be continued...
Dun, Dun, Dun. Did you see it coming? Were you surprised? Let me know.
Poll
By: Megan
Chapter 8: Boxed In Part 2
Author's Note: This continuation of Boxed In Part 1 was originally supposed to be longer, but several scenes were cut due to a new idea that I have adopted for the story. The timeline will include flashbacks and flashforwards now in the continuing chapters, so these scenes will resurface then. Just to clear that up, enjoy.
Walking quickly down the hall as silently as he possibly could, Damon elected not to use his speed to leave the house, as it could have drawn to much attention to anyone in the shadows. Looking down at the floor, he could faintly see the outlines of multiple bodies. Shit. He thought to himself. Iscariot was there, and whatever they wanted, they meant business.
The outlines of the bodies came into focus with startling detail, as in a split second the lights snapped back on. Damon squinted slightly, as the change didn’t affect him so much, he adapted quickly. And, standing in front of him was a 6-foot tall man. With blond hair and green eyes, wearing his own smirk. The type that had ‘victory’ written all over it. Damon felt the warmth from Elena’s head on his shoulder, and he could feel the blood from the wound on her leg begin to trickle in between his fingers.
“This is absolutely perfect. The infamous Damon Salvatore boxed in.”
Damon was not nearly paying attention to the significance of the words his assailant spoke as much as he was the accent. The man was clearly English, maybe with that heavy of a dialect from Wales. That was something to start with after he got Elena out of there.
“Well, I see that my reputation proceeds me. I’ve obviously never met you before. Perhaps you could tell me your name?”
The man laughed with a smooth menace.
“Really, Damon? Always trying to be to smart for your own good. No, you’ll find out that answer in good time. I’m just here for you and your brother.”
“Now, why would you want to kill us? I’ve been on good behavior haven’t I? Only several humans a week. It’s not like I’ve bled the town dry.”
“Well, you see Damon, you don’t need to turn a town into your own personal Gas and Sip for us to track you down. And our intentions towards you and your brother are merely business oriented.”
“What?”
Now that was unexpected. Damon decided he had to decide on his next angle, and fast. If he was going to find out anything about what Iscariot was up to.
“What would Iscariot want me to do?”
The man smiled. “Iscariot? No, I work for this gentleman they call The Man. And you will learn about The Man. And what The Man wants is a little somethin’ somethin’ that only you can get for us.”
Perfect. That information was plenty to go of off. And now to change tactics…
“I can be persuaded to do business for you if you let me take care of something.”
“That isn’t how this works.”
“You see this girl I have in my arms? She’s shot, and if I don’t get her out of her and to a medical facility within the next hour she’s going to die.”
“Well that ‘s just unfortunate, isn’t it?”
“Please… get out of my way.”
“No.”
“Get out of my way, or I will make you get out of my way.”
“Playing the role of the dangerous animal are you?”
“Excuse me?”
“We know what you’re up to. What you are.”
“You know what I am…” Damon looked down at the several bodies at his feet, two large, big boned men at his left.
“…Bored.” And, making sure to throw Elena to the side as gently as he could, Damon lunged forward at the man in the charcoal gray suit. Falling on the school’s linoleum floor, Damon heard his assailant’s arm crack under his grip. He must have managed a clean break to the bone. Taking a quick glance to the side, Damon saw with relief that Elena had fallen precisely unto the bodies on the floor, so as she was not hurt when he had let her go.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
The man underneath him smiled, and taking his two arms out from being pinned underneath Damon’s waist, we grabbed hold of Damon’s forehead and squeezed with magnificent force, despite the broken bone that he had just been delivered when he hit the floor.
“You will not know the answer to that question if I’m dead.”
And, flinging Damon off of him, the man stood up and went to stand over where Damon had fallen on his side. Grabbing hold of his shirt, the man delivered several good punches clean smack on Damon’s face while he was still down. Kicking the man in the shin, Damon stood up, his eyes now piercing violet red, the black and blue veins becoming visible on his face.
And, as his fangs elongated, Damon bent down ready to take a good chuck out of the man’s neck, right when he felt a hand on his shoulder, holding him back. It was Stefan.
“Don’t. We need him for information.”
She could not understand why she had decided to come. Her feet seemed to say one thing, carrying her on their own accord to the front door of the Salvatore house, but her mind said another. She swore that every time she thought of him the nerves in her brain shriveled at the ends, because, quite honestly, he confused the hell out of her. He would say something of menacing fury, and deliver in equal measure. And then, at times, he would say one thing, and then do another, something kind and uncharacteristic. Out of the ordinary, a glimpse of something entirely foreign and new to the usual profile of the man that she had been accustomed to, however briefly.
She didn’t know how it could not have been genuine, though. The story that he had told her. It seemed to real to simply have been fabricated. She still hadn’t asked Stefan about the truth of Katherine’s mortal sister, Clara, and whether or not she had burned in the fire. Maybe she was afraid of what Stefan might say, shattering the allusion that Damon was telling nothing but the truth.
Knocking on the door, she took a breath to reassure herself that this was indeed the right thing to do, before the nagging voice in the back of her mind began to speak. He would take this as a tool; convert what was a heartfelt and genuine gesture into a punch line to hurt her or Stefan’s priceless ego in the future. So, she turned sharply onto her heel to leave, until she heard the creek of the door opening behind her. And, Elena turned to see Damon standing in it’s opening.
She admitted that whenever she saw him, the muscles in her chest danced around and constricted. Elena could never decide whether this was a good or bad thing.
“I’m sorry but Stefan’s not here right now.”
“I’m not here to see Stefan.”
Damon’s features in confusion, and he looked at her almost as if he was concerned.
“I’m here to see you, actually.”
And, Elena saw the look on Damon’s face to be one of genuine surprise.
“I have to say something, and please don’t interrupt and make me regret coming here. When you picked me up in the parking lot that night last month, I thought that it was a ploy to make Stefan upset, or to prove a point. And, that it just so happened that helping me was a way of accomplishing that. But, last week, when I was shot and… just you saved my life, okay? And, despite not having the best track record in the world, you did that for me. I will never forget it.”
There was a long moment of silence. It was fraught with some big emotion. But, before it could be broken, before Damon seemed to break from the stasis of apparent shock that he was in and actually open his mouth to say something, Elena turned and left as quickly as she had shown up in the first place. She didn’t want to hear what Damon had to say, no matter what it might have been.
Lying in the guest bedroom, despite that he should probably been up and out, Damon laid there on his back on the mattress, his eyes fixed on the paneled ceiling. The fact that Elena had actually shown up in the first place, despite the intention, it seemed just to strange. Almost enough to make the moment seem insignificant. Although, it stuck out in the sea of the countless images that had cluttered the files of his brain for all those years. He just didn’t want to think about it. But, every second of the encounter kept coming back, as if he was looking at the entire absurd thing from another perspective, outside of himself.
Without warning, a sudden sensory impulse overtook him, and Damon made his way down the stairs. For some reason he could swear… and then he was at a loss. What had it been that made him get up? There it was again. The sense of a faint familiar smell, several lost words and memories bubbled up to the surface, all too familiar.
Someone was at the door.
And walking towards it, Damon put his hand on the knob, swinging it open. And, sure enough, standing just outside was someone, looking straight at him. A petite blond with long curly hair and green eyes.
“Clara?”
It was impossible.
“Hello, Damon.”
To be continued...
Dun, Dun, Dun. Did you see it coming? Were you surprised? Let me know.
Poll