The city of angels is devils just covered in diamonds.
Caroline sat on the floor as she contemplated the circular shaped item she still held. The golden stem still spun wildly as if it couldn’t stay in a fixed position, as if it was searching for one direction to stick with. It reminded her of a compass but there were no labels for north, west, east, or south. She figured it was broken and placed it to the side to look at the opaque stone. It was milky-colored and had a flat ovoid shape. She held it up in the moonlight that was still streaming into the room from the lone window. The light seemed to illuminate the stone, making it appear somewhat transparent. She set the stone down beside her to take a look at more of the items from the hole beneath the loose floorboard. Amongst the yellow legal sized folders, there was an aged leather-bound book and a vintage iron necklace that held a gilded stone with yellow hues. Turning her attention back to the book, she flipped through the pages coming to realize that it was a journal. She stopped at a random page and began to read.
136Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0dwmpWwdmn
September 9th, 1864
Mystic Falls, Virginia
136Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCXlDq1yoRy
This great town has been overrun by newcomers. There are devils that skulk in the shadows under the cover of night and I am one of them. I killed a man once. This man tried to rob me on my homebound travels from Georgia, it was merely self-defense. Alas, for my sins, I succumb to this unconquerable rage. It changes me, makes my hands and feet grow into large paws with razor sharp claws and talons. My bones break and reform into something inhuman in the gaze of the moon. I have no memory during these bouts of mania, just that I wake up every morning after the ordeal covered in the blood of my fellow townspeople. Such a consequence for my actions leads to this happening every month for upwards of three days and nights. I had no name for myself at the beginning of my journey to self-discovery, only what another sort of devil told me as she bartered for her life with a milky-white stone. I accepted her terms, of course, with the demand for more about what I am, what I could be. With that knowledge, I orchestrated the eradication of the demons that walk amongst us playing at humanity. It was the only way I could think of to cover my own tracks, figuratively and literally.
136Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOd3iW77qDW
Caroline was shocked to say the least but she was no fool. She knew what kind of creature could appear as a man and befall the pull of the moon. An endless amount of books, movies, and television shows benefitted off such myths and legends. She had read and watched many of them herself to fill her time as a child in a lonely house. She flipped to the beginning of the journal, seeking the name of the owner, seeking the identity of this… werewolf. When she found it, she gasped. In neat script on the pealing pages read George Lockwood. A week ago, she would have laughed reading anything from her unprecedented finds. But now? Everything had changed. She lived in a world where vampires and werewolves were real, where witches weren’t a thing of fantasy.
Don the talisman of the white witch out of time until she crosses the veil, its bite will sting your enemies.
Caroline paused as soon as she heard the voice, it sent trickles of wariness through her. This is the voice that sounded like her own, the one taunting her to unlock the secrets of her consanguinity and free herself from the shackles of man. She shook her head in disbelief. She just learned the secret of the Lockwood family and its consanguinity. Hearing her own voice on the wind telling her to question her own was sending her thoughts into overdrive. Could it be that her own ancestry should be put under the proverbial microscope? Not only was that possible conclusion mind boggling, being told to wear a witch’s talisman was completely shocking. There were no talismans anywhere, how was she to know—
Just then, the vintage necklace with the yellow gemstone caught her eye again. She considered the aged piece of jewelry and wondered if this was the talisman the voice spoke of. Picking it up, the necklace was caught in the moon’s gaze. Golden light refracted around the room, casting geometric shapes of illumination on the walls. It made it easier to see that she was in an office. If finding a journal from an ancestor of the Lockwood family told her anything, it was that she was probably her classmate’s mansion.
A glass encasing flashed in the corner of the room on the wall by the window from the light scattered around the room as a result of the necklace. Putting it on, it clinked against the other as she slinked her way over to see just what was what. Inside the case was an old-fashioned piece of paper that looked as if should be in the archives instead of Tyler’s house. She read through the contents to see that it was actually the document from the first founders’ party, it even had all the attendees listed. She kept reading until she stumbled across a very familiar name. The name of the new boy in town. Stefan said that he was distantly related to the original Salvatores that settled in this town but what if there was a connection even clearer than that? What if he actually was one of the original settlers? This startling discovery nearly sent her tumbling to the ground, she had to steady herself on the wall. Now sure, he could just be named after the guy but come on. With the existence of vampires being pretty fucking guaranteed, it was entirely plausible for Stefan to be one. When she was in tuned with Bonnie at the grill, the voice said that Stefan was turned by a woman, that he in turn forced someone else to have the same fate. The same voice was upset because they weren’t the only one, that Stefan wasn’t even supposed to be included. The voice that spoke was familiar to her as well but she couldn’t quite put her finger on why.
To unravel the coiled knots of a broken mind, you must put me in. Put me in, deep inside your neck. Turn me once, turn me twice, you’ll end up in your head.
Put me in, put me in, deep inside your neck. Turn me once, turn me twice, you’ll end up in your head.
Caroline cocked her head to the side as she considered the words. She didn’t take the time to really listen to the rhyme earlier, did it truly mean that she should literally put the key in her neck? Would it fit? Where the hell would it even go? Picking the key up from her bosom, it clinked with the other key she found. Upon closer inspection, she noticed an inscription on the key’s stem in a language she couldn’t comprehend. Well, it felt like she should know what the words were saying. It was like the meaning of the phrase was just beyond her reach. It was as if all she needed to do was think a little harder and she would be able to decipher its meaning. Now that she thought about it, the symbols on it matched that of the first key she had found. She really did need to come up with some names for them so as to not confuse her damn self.
Put me in, put me in, deep inside your neck. Turn me once, turn me twice, you’ll end up in your head.
Almost as if she was in a trance, Caroline turned to face the window. She could just barely see her reflection in the glass. Raising the key still connected to her necklace to the back of her neck, she felt a peculiar sensation. As if the skin of her nape was opening and closing. Like it couldn’t decide if it should be open or not. As it stands, she could just barely feel a faint breeze on the area as well. She raised her other hand gasped quietly, she could feel the hole. Steeling herself, she inserted the key. She turned it once and turned it twice before almost jumping in surprise, for there she stood. She was beside herself, having a literal out of body experience. A carbon copy of herself was standing in front of the window with back facing the rest of the office, right next to the old parchment in its encasing. What’s more was that just beyond her line of sight, in the corner of her eye, laid a strange door. It was wooden with a black vintage handle, and seemed to be painted a brown so deep that it was almost the color of pitch. Strange symbols covered the door as well, much like the ones written on the keys themselves. Among them was a symbol that looked like a tree inside a circle and another like an elaborate wolf. A symbol that caught her eye the most was the one that was made up of nine lines. Three of them vertical, three of them diagonal from the right, and the other three diagonal from the left. She knew that had to mean something but couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was. If standing in the middle of the office staring at her doppelgänger didn’t throw her off, the door with symbols that appeared out of nowhere certainly did. It seemed like it was literally pulled out of thin air. Why did this happen? Did it really have something to do with what that voice of the key said? Was this door truly the entryway that would lead her deep inside her head?
Glancing once more at her carbon copy, she waved a hand back and forth in front of her eyes. The doppelgänger really was frozen in place, not reacting to any outside influences. With that in mind, she turned her focus back to the strange door. After what seemed like an entire minute, she opened it slowly. It didn’t creak on its hinges like that of an aged southern manor without any inhabitants to maintain the place, it didn’t make any noise at all. For a moment she had second thoughts as she looked into the pitch-darkness that laid beyond the entryway before shaking her head, as if to fortify herself. There had to be a reason for all of this, she needed to figure out why she could hear voices, to discover their hidden meanings. Determined to understand all that she had come to know, she crossed the threshold. She blinked a few times as her vision grew cloudy. Between one breath and the next, she was standing in the cemetery with the infamous woods encroaching on the gates. It was quiet like most resting places for the dead are, but there was a somberness to the silence. Before she could put her finger on what exactly made the mood feel this way, the cemetery seemed to bleed out of existence. Even though she was in her head, it appeared in whatever manner that suited her needs. Case in point instead of the cemetery, before her laid a picture of serenity, her surroundings awash in a golden haze. She was fully in the woods now, the birch and hickory trees standing tall and strong in the light of day. The vegetation flourished all around her making the air smell fresher than she was used to. Her hometown as she knew it never smelled like this. In the distance, she could see a great tree stretching into the sky. She figured she was mistaken though, there was no way a tree could be so tall that it surpassed the clouds. It must be her vantage point making it seem like that, getting closer would, of course, prove her correct. Just then, a muted crashing sound resonated with her. It reminded her of when water hits a flat surface and there was only one place where such sounds could exist. The falls in Steven’s Quarry. Following the sounds of running water, Caroline journeyed toward the great tree.
The scent in the air grew crisp in its freshness the closer she got to the quarry. When it came into view, her jaw dropped at the sight of the great tree. It was so tall that it truly did soar beyond the clouds. The rich greens of the leaves were visible from the lowest of the hanging branches and the bark of the trunk was a deep brown. It was so large that about a third of its roots sat atop the waterfall, another third reached into the lake below, and the other third was nestled into the grounds of the woods nearest the shore. The roots that buried themselves in the woods were thick and made groves in the ground. Some of them reached over each other creating a web of channels that she could walk through. At the roots nearest the edge of the shore, she saw a mature looking woman. The woman’s porcelain skin shone brightly in the sunlight making the sheer cloth appear reflective like glittering tule, giving her an ethereal radiance. Her waist-length tresses were a warm blonde, they tickled her skin as she dragged a wooden bucket through the water. Caroline watched as the woman carried it over to the shore to see her pouring the contents over the roots there. As the woman walked back to the water, a maiden with a similar appearance seemed to emerge from her skin. She had a youthful air about her, her features softer and reminiscent of the past. A moment later, a matron joined them emerging from the opposite side. She exuded wisdom in the way she held herself, the crow’s feet around her eyes a tell of her lived experience. Together they carried buckets of water to the roots, adding mud as they went. They seemed to work in sync with each other, moving with elegance and grace.
“Hvernig komstu hingað? Hér á enginn að vera.” Caroline was stunned, she didn’t know what the maiden said at all. The language sounded familiar to her, perhaps she learned about the ethnic group that spoke it in her previous world history class.
“‘How did you get here? Nobody’s supposed to be here.’ is what my young sister said.” The middle aged woman put her bucket down, her hands miraculously free of mud, before wading through the water toward Caroline.
“Caroline Luciana Forbes, do you know where you are?” All three women spoke in unison, the maiden and the matron coming forward to join their sister a few feet in front of the great tree’s roots on the shore.
“I’m…” she trailed off, looking around. “This is Steven’s Quarry, in Mystic Falls, Virginia… But, it doesn’t look like any Virginia I know.”
“This is indeed a visage of your Mystic Falls.” The mature woman opened her arms, gesturing to the world around her. “Albeit, an ancient version of it.”
“Have I been sent back in time or something?” Caroline asked.
“Have you forgotten so soon about the tokens you wear around your neck?” The maiden asked, this time forgoing her native tongue.
“I… so, I really am in my head?”
“Indeed child,” the matron said.
“So then who are you and how did you get here?” The women chuckled at her.
“We three have many names, collective and apart,” they said speaking in unison again. “We weavers three know all, the past, the present, and the future. We tend to the great ash tree and guard the waters from the holy well so that the worlds continue to thrive under the watchful eye of the alfather.”
Caroline took the information in stride, she would have to sit down and dissect everything they said with a computer or two in front of her whenever she left her… head. The word alfather struck a cord within her. She had heard the term before in her world history class during her sophomore year of high school when they were learning about Nordic countries and their cultures. The alfather, the great tree, and the holy well were all in reference to… no. No way. There was no way that could be real. Could it? Fucking seriously?!
“This is Urda,” the mature woman said gesturing to the maiden. Her lips were laced with a smirk as if she knew exactly what Caroline was thinking. “I am Dandi and this is Skella.”
“At least she isn’t completely ignorant.” Urda crossed her arms over her chest, giving off a nonchalant air. Caroline pressed her palms together, resting them against her bottom lip.
“Okay. Regardless of being in my head and this whole surrounding area appearing as the Mystic Falls of old. If you truly are the Nor—.” Caroline’s jaw locked shut on the word, she couldn’t even bring herself to speak it aloud. At least, not yet. She cleared her throat before continuing. “I mean, those aren’t your real names, if you are who I believe you to be. What is this place to you?”
“I think you know.” Dandi gave her a wry smile. “Besides, I doubt could even pronounce our given names.”
Dandi was probably right about that. Caroline took a deep breath before crossing her knees as she sat on the ground. This whole thing was just getting better and better. Mythical keys, talismans, vampires, werewolves, witches, and beings straight out of the Poetic Edda. She rubbed her fingertips against her temples. This was a serious mind fuck.
“Come now,” Skella said. “We mustn’t overwhelm her.”
Caroline scoffed. “Yeah, a little too late for that.”
“YOU DARE RAISE YOUR VOICE TO ME?”
“No, dad, I was just trying to get you to listen to me! You never—”
The voice cut off with the sound of skin hitting skin. Caroline jumped at the familiar voices, they sounded way too loud and close. Dread coiled in her veins when she realized that it was the mayor and his son having a discussion. If it could be called such with all the aggressive taunts coming from Mayor Lockwood and the rather violent sounding smacks rattling around in her… head. It appeared that the rumors about that father and son relationship were all true. She felt bad for her classmate.
“It is time for you to go, my dear.” Caroline’s head snapped up as the women gathered around her, all of them touching some part of her skin as they gently pulled her up from the ground. They began leading her through the woods before coming to stop before the still open doorway, the dimly lit office clearly in her sights.
“But, I still have more questions. How can I protect myself from vampires and werewolves?” She whispered. “I fled from my home because one was trying to attack me, he might still be there!”
“Your home is already infested with chaotic blood. That vampire is now gone, purged violently from your property. He will no longer be able to enter,” the women said in unison. “Now, you need to go.”
“After you leave this place, you must close the door to your mind then take the key out of your neck,” Dandi said. “It’s important that you do this in that particular order. Perhaps you can come back when you have found a safe haven. A place where you can be protected while frozen on the outside.”
Chaotic blood? What the fuck did that even mean? Caroline huffed as she crossed the threshold, exiting her mind and coming back into Mayor Lockwood’s office. She could see the items she was inspecting still scattered on the floor. She turned back to the door to find that the weavers three were still waiting for her to follow their given instructions.
“May we meet again, promised child.”
The words were swept away on an unnatural wind as she closed the door to her mind with a soft click, but she still heard them. Such a saying was yet another phrase she would have to dissect later. Perhaps she should start a journal or something dedicated to her finds. As many whispered murmurings have slinked their way into her ears, it would behoove her to write them all down to try and uncover their hidden meanings. She quietly meandered over to her still frozen doppelgänger and gingerly removed the key from her neck. Her body jerked a little bit, as if she was waking up from a short cat nap. She looked around to see that the door to her head, mind, mindscape, was gone. The only physical piece of evidence left from the entire ordeal was the key resting in the palm of her hand. Tyler and the mayor’s raised voices continued climbing higher until Mrs. Lockwood’s joined the mix. She wasn’t paying attention to them in the slightest, their aggressive discussion likened to white noise at this point. Though not wanting to get caught, she used their own racket against them, and quietly knelt down to pick up the items she left on the floor. The aged journal, the milky-white stone, and the golden compass were all that was left. Considering the items, she pocketed both and held the journal to her chest. Before putting the floorboard back in its rightful place, she regarded the legal envelopes. Making a snap decision, she took those too, effectively cleaning out the hidden hole in the floor. Perhaps when the mayor realized he had been robbed, he would put more energy into figuring out who it was rather than putting his hands on his only son. She smiled at the thought, likening herself to a benevolent force saving a lost child from their manic sire. She closed everything back up the way it was before and slinked over to a side door in the office. She took the first key and inserted it into the keyhole. She thought of her bathroom as she turned the key. Opening the door, she was relieved to see that the magic worked. She took the key out and it clinked quietly as it bumped against the stone from the talisman and the mindscape key. She took the key out and stepped through quickly, shutting the door behind her. Opening it again, all she saw was her undisturbed bedroom. It was as if no one was there at all. The weight of everything that happened over the course of the day and later that night seemed to press heavily on her entire being. She crashed into bed, resolving to save all journalling and research for another day.
A few days later, Caroline sat at the back of the classroom in the dreaded eleventh grade history period contemplating her life and how the hell she could be a promised child. She hadn’t forgotten a thing from that night and it was still fresh in her thoughts. Honestly, she wanted to tell Bonnie all about it but wasn’t sure if she should. What would she even say? Hey Bon! Beings from mythology are real and hey, let’s not forget about werewolves in addition to vampires and witches because they are real too! She rolled her eyes before face planting onto her desk.
“Not getting enough sleep, Care?” She looked up at Bonnie’s voice. She was sitting at the next desk over. Caroline glanced over to see that Bonnie had been drawing numbers in her notebook. There were looping eights, jagged fourteens, and swirling twenty-twos. They covered the page as if Bonnie had been at it for a long time.
“What are you over there doodling?”
Bonnie finally looked down at the page. “I don’t know, I just… I can’t stop thinking about these numbers. I don’t know what they mean or anything.” Caroline hummed at her friend’s words as Mr. Tanner tried to gather the rest of the class’ attention.
“World War Two ended in… anyone got anything? Miss Yuan?” When the student in question shrugged, their teacher sighed. “1945. Pearl Harbor, Miss Gilbert?”
Elena stumbled before Stefan jumped in to save her hide. “December 7th, 1941.”
“Thank you, Miss Gilbert.” The sarcasm rolled off of Mr. Tanner in waves as chuckles made their way around the room at their teacher’s expense.
“Anytime,” Stefan said with a smirk.
“Very well, the fall of the Berlin Wall—
“1989, I’m good with dates sir.” Stefan cut Mr. Tanner off for the second time in history. What was the world coming to?
“Are you… how good?” Mr. Tanner asked. “Keep it to the year.”
This should be good, Caroline thought as she sat forward in her seat. Stefan was unknowingly proving her right about his status as a member of the living dead. Of course, he truly could just be a history nut but that theory flew right out the window when she stared at that document in the Lockwood Mansion. She was going to figure everything out but she needed to be careful. Stefan didn’t seem to carry himself like her abuser but that didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous. The voice that actually suspiciously sounded like Elena’s, if it was sassier with a little bit of coquette thrown in, did say that he played rougher…
“Civil Right’s Act.”
“1964.”
“John F. Kennedy assassination.”
“1963.”
“Martin Luther King.”
“1968.”
“Lincoln.”
“1865.”
“Roe vs. Wade.”
“1973.”
“Brown vs. Board.”
“1954.”
“The Battle of Gettysburg.”
“1863.”
“The Korean War.”
“1950 to 1953.”
“HAH!” Mr. Tanner exclaimed in triumph. “It ended it 52.”
“Uh actually, sir, it was 53.” Stefan stared at Mr. Tanner, a challenge clear in his eyes.
“Look it up!” Mr. Tanner barked at the rest of the class. “Somebody, quickly.”
“It was 19…53!” One of the students called out.
The class clapped in slow-building surprise at the turn of events. Caroline sat back in her seat and crossed her arms over her chest, staring a hole in the back of Stefan’s head. She would get to the bottom of this, she just had to. She tuned out the rest of the class as per usual and turned her thoughts to her other classes, specifically Classic Literature and Music Technology 1. Those were shaping up to be the most interesting even though she skipped a few days ago. The syllabi for both classes promised some pretty interesting topics—
They are people, Damon. She’s not a puppet, she doesn’t exist for your amusement, for you to feed on whenever you please.
Sure she does, they all do. They’re whatever I want them to be, they’re mine for the taking.
No. Not again. The voices, they’re back and they’re not kind or alluring in the slightest. Stefan and… and— That’s… that’s his voice! The voice of her rapist and his name is… Damon. Damon and Stefan Salvatore? Like the on the old piece of parchment from the mansion? She almost popped out of her seat at the realization. Stefan might be connected to her rapist in the worst way possible, by blood.
Alright, you’ve had your fun. You used Caroline. You got to me and Elena, good for you. Now, it’s time for you to go.
That’s not a problem because I’ve been invited in, and I’ll come back tomorrow night and the following night and I’ll do whatever I want with your little cheerleader. Because that is what’s normal to me.
Caroline’s head spun. Stefan knew about what the Damon guy did to her! How could he stand by with that knowledge and do nothing? Was everything he ever said to her a lie? Were those little gestures of a budding friendship all ploys to keep her sweet and oblivious? Did she mean so little to everyone around her when Elena stepped into the picture? Her blood sung a canticle of fury, her senses seemed to kick into overdrive, flaying her body alive. Rage seared through her and just when she thought she wouldn’t be able to sit still for any longer, goosebumps raised the hairs on her flesh. A fraught tension vibrated in the air, one that only she seemed to be in tune with, and a sort of crackling energy resonated beneath her skin. She opened her eyes, didn’t even realize she had closed them, and they widened. Tendrils of pitch and scarlet swirled around her fingertips, taunting her as they flowed back and forth between the palms of her hands. Caroline could barely contain her rage or her shock. Her brain was overloaded to say the least. After making such a horrifying connection, she honestly didn’t know how to move forward with all this information. If that wasn’t the kicker, then getting so angry that her blood boiled and manifested as red coils of energy in the palm of her hands definitely was. The entire situation had her shaking in her seat as she hid her hands under her desk in history class. It was a miracle she even managed to power through the rest of the school day, especially as she avoided Stefan like the plague. As soon as the last bell rang, she hopped into her car and sped all the way home. She needed answers and quickly. The only way she could think of to get them was to venture back into her head again to see creatures of myth, and who even knew what she would find then.
