flashback blues

Gaining trust from Aurora was difficult unless you were a man who was promising the world to her, then she was ready to let down every single barrier in an instant. Anything to be loved by another. She was willing to dive in front of danger if it meant a slither of affection from a man. All you had to do was feed her a few compliments and tell her you to envision a future with her. It had happened countless times over the years, yet she still didn’t learn her lesson. Her brother or Lucien was left picking up the pieces of her shattered heart each time. Sometimes it was possible to force the pieces back together but other times she would be sectioned for her own safety.

It was just another reason not to tell Tristan about Damien. He would destroy their relationship, insisting it was for the best while reminding her that she was ‘unwell’. A sick child who needed nursing back to full health because they were allowed into the world. Her brother wasn’t stupid. He knew there was no cure for her bipolar. Beneath it all, he was just an older brother trying to protect his younger sister but she couldn’t take the risk of telling him about Damien otherwise her days with the reaper would have been numbers.

Her guard was lowered when she entered the house, even when she noticed there was no sight of Sofia. There was something breathing nearby. Possibly a human she had dragged into her home. A welcome gift for Aurora. Waiting for her friend to arrive until she opened a vein. The mere thought of it had that familiar hunger rise inside her. The same feeling she’d had for over a thousand years. One which she knew how to control, unlike Sofia.

Perhaps Aurora should take the first bite, knowing Sofia was bound to drain the human before Aurora had a chance.

The sound of the arrow slicing through the air was missed as reached to hang her coat up. A wooden arrow lodged between her shoulder blades, nearing the side her heart lay. She spun around, one hand trying to reach behind her to grab the arrow. “That is no way to greet a guest.” She couldn’t quite reach the arrow so Aurora gave up letting her hand fall to her side. It was a man with a familiar face kneeling on the stairs. Sofia’s husband. Then she remembered he was a hunter. A person who hated vampires. “It is brave of you to challenge me.” A weak feebly human. There was a smirk forming on her face as she looked up at him.

Pathetic, but this was her friend’s husband. The love of her life. Whilst every muscle was twitching to snap his neck, she told herself to remain calm. She didn’t want to snatch away Sofia’s husband. “You have five seconds to lower your weapon and tell me where Sofia is or I will be forced to retaliate.” She kept her eyes locked on him, ignoring the arrow hanging out of her back.

“Five, four, three, two…”


CHRISTIAN CALLAWAY

The moment the arrow pierced her back, rage stirred inside of her, but mainly towards herself. Should she have noticed the texts she had received weren’t from Sofia? Had her ‘friend’ lured her into a trap? There was no logic to this and there was a bite of sadness when she considered the idea that Sofia wanted to hurt her. Kill her even. Had this been her plan all along and Aurora had failed to see through it? She was too wrapped up in the idea that maybe she’d found a friend in the empty town.

Despite her warning, it didn’t look like he was going to lower his weapon. An apology to Sofia would be necessary after she finished killing the hunter. She considered Sofia a friend, but not to the point she was willing to spare her husband’s life and risk her own. In fact, there was barely anyone who reached that threshold. The only people who sprung to mind were Tristain and Damien. Naturally, she was willing to put her life on the line for her brother, but no doubt she would do the same for Damien. If only Tristain could hear her thoughts he would drag her away from the small town. Away from Damien because he wouldn’t allow her to fall in love in case it all ended in heartbreak, pushing Aurora into darkness.

She’d just made it to one when he threw something towards her, which exploded as soon as it hit the ground. A burning sensation overwhelmed her senses, causing her to cough harshly as she stepped backwards trying to avoid the smoke. Vervain. The man was no novice hunter which was further confirmed when she felt the wooden arrow rip through her skin. Inches above her heart. Too close for comfort.

No apology would be needed as Sofia was dead. She’d offer her condolences but it sounded like they weren’t needed. “Made her?” Aurora exclaimed, squinting to see through the smoke that was starting to clear, but her eyes remained red and irritated. Water streamed down her cheeks as she tried to wipe away the burn. His little speech sounded like something straight out of the movies, so inspiring. “If you believe I turned Sofia then you are mistaken.” Had her friend filled her husband’s head full of lies before she died? Perhaps in a feeble attempt to lay some blame on Aurora for the countless bodies, Sofia had dropped throughout Mystic Falls. “Your wife was already a vampire when I met her. One who was unable to control herself... I suspect that caused some problems in your marriage.” Sofia never mentioned whether or not her husband knew about what she was, “I hope your vows did not slip your mind when you found out the truth... for better and for worse.” She couldn't imagine hating a species so much that she was prepared to turn her back on someone she loved.

CHRISTIAN CALLAWAY

If running off the road into a tree at close to 80mph hadn’t stopped them, then why should death?

The woman’s shrill voice echoed in the tight confines of the shattered car. Damien flopped back in the back seat, squirming as the suitcase that had launched itself into the back of the woman’s seat, breaking her neck in the process, dug into his side. Her body was slumped over the dashboard now, although the woman didn’t seem to notice it. Her husband’s body was mostly out of the car now. Brand new boots projected back through the shattered windshield, his body crumpled on the equally crushed hood. The tree they’d hit loomed overhead, blocking out the moonlight, but he didn’t need it to see their spirits.

His expression apathetic, Damien sat and waited for one of them to take a breath – not that either had to now. He’d tried yelling ’hey!’ a half dozen times after he’d arrived, hadn’t worked a single time. Either they were deaf (that wouldn’t have been a shocker considering the way they screamed at one another), or they were so caught up in Aunt Marge’s cottage and who was going to be listed on the title to the place now they’d inherited that they literally didn’t know he was there. It wasn’t like he wanted to be.

Damien huffed out a breath, rearranging his legs in the tight space to get a little more comfortable for what seemed like it would be a long night. Would Death just send someone else if he blipped out of there right now? Knowing his luck, if he did, it would be Elias, taking the lack of movement on this reaping as some failing on his part. The image of Elias wedging himself forward between the seats to counsel these two into taking his hands for the short ride to hell had him laughing out loud. Oh, that had the woman twitching, although there was barely a hitch in her voice as she reminded poor Robbie that he hadn’t been half as close to his own aunt as she had been. He guessed Aunt Marge had a thing for mouthy harpies who browbeat their husbands.

The phone buzzed in his pocket – a human trapping in a car that had become the battlefield for people who couldn’t lay claim to the title anymore. Aurora. In an instant the sound of Annie’s nerve grating voice grew muffled. The messages had been a meandering stream since he’d been called to pick up the biker she’d dropped after their first night together, a touchstone for him in a town that only held two – Aurora and Sonny. The job? This he could’ve done anywhere, Mystic Falls couldn’t be the only place with an endless stream of souls to reap. The two of them were unique in a world where everything else he’d been sure about had been stripped away by random tragedy and that black eyed thing that still had its claws in his brother.

While Annie went to swipe at her husband, Damien tapped a message back, asking Aurora to let him know when she was heading out. If this was the last job of the night he’d swing by to get her, to sink back out of this misery and into that strata of his life where the job didn’t matter, only losing himself in those deep green eyes did.

”What happened?” The voice was muted now, shocky. Oh yeah, he knew what that was like.

Damien slipped the phone into his pocket, looking up to find Annie looking back at him. Her eyes were blown wide open, her hands shaking as she realised her own dead body was practically sitting in her lap. The argument had finally petered out without his involvement. Hallelujah.

Craning forward between the seats, Damien offered the husband and wife a smile. ”Congratulations, you’re both dead. I guess Aunt Marge is gonna have some company. Maybe. I’m your reaper for this evening, and, luckily, you have a choice …” The spiel tripped out, a little brighter at the edge out of absolute gratitude for this not taking all night.

Still, it was a while before they both decided to go – he hadn’t been about to tell them they both had an eternity in hell ahead of them (didn’t anybody tell you it was a mortal sin to cheat on your wife, Robbie?). The lights of emergency vehicles were approaching by the time he got back to the car. Damien slipped his hand into his pocket, imagining he’d find another text to Aurora he’d have to apologise for missing. Nothing. No update.

Something like the luggage lodged under his diaphragm. There was plenty of trouble in this town, and not just of the sort that killed back drivers. He skimmed over the address she’d been going to again, cursed out loud as he recognised it. The bloodbath. Fuck.

One moment the man in the suit was standing there at the edge of the road, perfectly visible to the cops, the next there was nothing but the shattered car and its two still occupants.

The house seemed just as still and quiet this time. Damien appeared just inside the front door. He paused there on the threshold., breathing shallowly as he waited for the tinkle of female laughter he doubted was coming. A second later it was a man’s voice lashing out instead, demanding to be told more. The scent of blood was in the air, as familiar now as anything. Not even a heartbeat passed and he was out of the hallway and into the living room, appearing between a bound and seated Aurora and the grieving husband. ”I wouldn’t if I were you,” Damien growled. ”Is that what you used on her? Your wife I mean. You know … I should’ve caught on to the address before, although we don’t really get the house number when we come knocking.” They followed that invisible wire there, only gleaning small details. The husband had been one of them, rushing in as he’d been dealing with his wife’s victims. Human him might’ve stopped the guy killing his wife, but the rules on his job were perfectly clear, its not your business, don’t interfere.

Without turning his head more than a fraction, Damien tried to get a look at Aurora. There was the blood, staining her clothing, the ropes raising smoke from her skin like steam. Hurt by this guy, who was determined, apparently, to find out how his wife had gone from Little Miss Perfect to a blood sucker all without him noticing. ”Aurora, are you alright? How badly did he hurt you?” There was a tightness to his voice, one that threatened to snap. The crossbow wasn’t going to do the guy any good then, not that it would now. Reapers were a little beyond human weapons.

Tagged: AURORA DE MARTEL & CHRISTIAN CALLAWAY * Word Count: 1148

Aurora knew barely anything about Sofia’s marriage. She assumed they were happy though. Pictures of the loving couple were scattered amongst their home once, but she had barely made it past the front door to see whether those photos were still displayed or if he had discarded every single memory of his wife in some poor attempt of forgetting what she had become. She would have offered sympathy to the man if he hadn’t shot an arrow through her neck, presuming Aurora was the problem. The one who had dragged Sofia along with her, but he was so wrong. Sofia was usually the one doing the dragging and Aurora was more than happy to go along with it.

Who was she to judge the man’s actions though? Love made people crazy, herself included. She committed suicide in the name of love, surrendering her human life and believing she was about to spend eternity with Klaus. A person who was nothing but a fading memory by now, replaced by her feelings for Damien. He’d proven to her he was a thousand times better for her compared to Klaus. For starters, he didn’t have a deluded family lurking in the shadows. More importantly, he was here to save her from the hunter.

Sofia’s husband was desperate for answers, which rang through his voice as he yelled at Aurora like she held all the pieces of vital information he needed for closure. Damien was quick to bat away the questions though, insisting they were leaving the man behind to wallow in sadness. Comfort set in once he wrapped his hand around hers, but she wasn’t ready to vanish into thin air just yet. The tiniest shred of empathy started to scratch away at Aurora. “Wait.” She whispered to Damien, before drawing her attention back to the other man. “It was foolish of you to come after me especially because I do not hold the answers to your questions. All I know is she was turned at the hospital… vampires must learn control which can take months if not years… you did not give your wife the opportunity to exercise control.” It wasn’t easy to ignore those beating human hearts every second of every day. Aurora had been doing it for over a thousand years therefore she was considered an expert yet she didn’t offer any help to Sofia when she came asking for it.


CHRISTIAN CALLAWAY - yeee last round