𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 ━ 𝘵𝘷𝘥

༉‧₊˚. 𝟶𝟹

❛ they may die but their
memories won't leave me ❜

CHAPTER 03
AU REVOIR SOUVENIRS

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[ TVD :: 03:07 ]

   DESPITE HAVING DONE the maximal proportions of damage mitigation from the position she had found herself in without giving herself away to the rather rowdy crowd of supernatural beings in the town, they had quite the knack for finding themselves in crises more often than not. The lot had somehow managed to screw up death ━ allowing for the veil between their mortal plains and purgatory drop, allowing for those with affairs left unfinished to complete said affairs, affairs most commonly being satisfying their lusts for vengeance. How that had come to be? It is beyond anyone's level of understanding.

   Their solution to the problem? Making those in purgatory visible, as though it would be a piece of cake to explain to the nosy humans in their town why there so many dead men walking in their town. Simple enough.

   But despite all that there is a bright side to their consistency to disappoint, taking every opportunity of the falling veil had opened up Elena had took in Lexi's aid to get Stefan back on track whilst Mason Lockwood had lead Alaric and Damon down the century's old passageways towards a dark and rather dingy cave, stories drawn into the walls as well as carvings etched by a blade. Although, Damon was left to rot beyond the barrier seeing as apparently no vampire was allowed entry within its walls.

   Once the veil had been lifted back up and Mason Lockwood was gone, Damon and Alaric lead Elena down towards the caves. Elena's eyebrows furrowed, flashing her torchlight at one of many of the depictions of the wall, "What is all of this?" "As far as I can tell, it's a story," the teacher answered as more of a question than an answer, he had yet to get to the part of deciphering said stories, "In simple archaeological terms, it's a really, really old story." He pointed the light towards the drawings on the wall which depicted a man and a wolf.

   "A werewolf," concluded Elena as a show that she understood what he was telling her. At the edge of the magical barrier stood the eldest of the Salvatore's, "Yeah, it's the Lockwood diaries. Pictionary style," he quipped humorlessly. "I don't understand, I thought the Lockwood's came here with the original founders in the 1860's."

   "Maybe the Lockwood's dead. But according to this wall, these werewolves have been here a lot longer than that," Alaric went on to explain his eyes still scanning the script etched into the walls. "How long?" "Long. Get's better. Show her Ric," he humored. Alaric pointed the flashlight in his hand towards smaller etchings at the upper corner of a wall in the cave, unlike the the drawings they were a clear read, "Names. And they're not native. They're written in runic, a viking script."