The Art Of Hiding Your Death

Chapter One: Welcome To The Afterlife

 Disclaimer: This is an Originals fan fiction and I do not own any the Originals/ TVD. This story though, and specific characters are my own. Any characters that are my own shall be specified, otherwise, I do not own them.

PART ONE: REBIRTH 

Crap.

No, No, NO!

Crap! Bloody Hell! Crap!

I awake with a gasp and sit up, flying around for a second before I realize that I am no longer being strangled. If I knew this was how the night was going to progress, I would have firmly insisted that I was fine and do not need to go to the hospital. I only got a bullet in the arm, and it was already healed, but that wasn't the point.

I was dead.

Well, not completely dead, undead is a better word; strangled to death a few hours ago by a masked man with no mercy.

It's almost darkly ironic that I died in a place that saves lives and I would have laughed had the situation not been so grim. I spring out of bed and dash to the mirror to confirm things. When I see the horrifically beautiful monster that emerges upon my features, it confirms everything. I have lost my membership to a mortal life and gained a new one that places me in a group of monsters.

I moan, and drop my face into my hands on the cold bathroom counter. This was not supposed to happen. I was supposed to choose this. And what I am now was definitely not intentional.

When the masked man killed me, he didn't feed me vampire blood first. That means he wanted me dead. Dead without a return ticket.

Well bully for him, because now we're both in an awkward situation, though I'm sure he doesn't know it. I do though. And it's a big problem.

Not only that though, but me turning into a full vampire and even being somewhat alive right now is a big coincidence. I'm definitely not in transition though. I'm full vampire. And I want blood.

Pushing my intense craving to the side for the moment with years of experience (only the yearning was lesser), I force myself to calm down and think. I shouldn't exist, so everything about me is uncharted territory and my whole life it's been very 'we'll guess and learn as we go'.

My family's extensive education means that though I have a far greater understanding of the supernatural world, all of that information is useless when it comes to me.

I step back suddenly, and drop my arms to my side, loudly saying, "Great!", and then wincing, because of the time. The hospital is dead silent, no pun intended. I walk back to bed and sit rigidly with my legs crossed, too tense to focus on anything else right now. First things first, I need blood. I can't feed on any of the staff because my family or one of their lackeys will know the second either comes to check on me that something is wrong, so that leaves blood bags, which I normally use to sate my hunger. I flash out into the hall and steal three blood bags from the hospital's stock, then return to my bed.

Three is probably overkill, but I'm hungry and I don't want to risk losing my battle of willpower over hunger to a poor, unsuspecting human. As I slowly drink them, I move on to the next matter at hand. Hiding this from my family. Which will be hard to do considering that they're all original vampires, exempting Mom, who matches up to that because she's a hybrid. The reason to hide my unfortunate life status grows with every second that I mull this over. Everyone in my family, including me, has the highest ranking status in the entire supernatural community, but that means that me, being the puny child, heir, and youngest, is the weakest in their eyes. That means that they are extremely overprotective of me.

They treat me like I'm made of glass, even though I was and am by no means as fragile as the fully human children.

But given the fact that I couldn't stop myself from getting murdered, I'm grudgingly starting to agree with them. I love my family, but they're kind of crazy in the lengths they go to keep me safe.

Stemming from lifetimes of paranoia, enemies, and people he loves getting hurt, Dad is by far the worst. I bet if he had it his way, I'd be magically barred from exiting the house and have an army of vampire bodyguards watching my every move (thank goodness he doesn't) to prevent his frail princess from ever getting a scratch. If he finds out that I was killed, he'd probably murder half the state to find out and punish whoever did the deed and then proceed with the whole "lock up our baby wolf and never let her out of sight so she never gets hurt" plan and refuse to let anyone stand in his diabolical way. Therefore, it is imperative that I keep the fact that I am now a vampire under wraps for as long as I can until I can figure out a way to tell them peacefully what I am.

How the hell I'm going to do that is a problem that I'll worry about later when my mind isn't so foggy and somewhat loopy from sheer and utter panic.

On to the next item on my list. Do I still have my magic? Because me still having the ability to perform magic would make life so much easier, and it will (if I can find a way to hide my deadness) prove even more that I am mortal, because normally, you can't be a witch and a vampire at the same time.

If I have lost my magic due to vampirism, I'm screwed, because sooner or later, someone in the family is going to need a spell and then the entire ruse will crumble.

But, as always, I'm the exception when it comes to the rules confining the supernatural and I hold on to that thought more tightly than ever as I go into my rooms lavatory and turn on the sink as quietly as possible. Taking a deep breath, I attempt a simple water manipulation spell non-verbally (something that only extremely powerful witches like myself can do) holding my breath. I can feel the magic running through my veins, but there's only one way to tell.

Hesitantly, I open one eye. And let out a burst of laughter.

Oh the sweet relief!

The cold water that rushes from the tap now looks like one long, fat tentacle, growing and swaying with the movements of my hand.

I still somehow have my magic. I didn't lose it!

Feeling elated from the success of my harrowing experiment, I stop the spell and lean over the sink, turning off the water.

The heightened emotions that come with vampirism are affecting me full force now, and the lightness and warmth of relief fills every vein in my body, from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. I shouldn't be letting it affect me, but unfortunately it, and the exhaustion that I had been denying myself carry me out the door and into my room, pulling the curtains shut and falling into bed, praying that I can keep this up and that whoever killed me doesn't come back to check.

If only I knew then what the next day would bring.

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