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˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ༆ 𝗢𝗹𝗱 𝗟𝗼𝗰𝗸𝘄𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗖𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮𝗿 ༆
"So, the Lockwoods really have no clue these creepy tunnels are right under their estate?" Elena asked, her voice echoing slightly as she, Alaric, and I made our way deeper into the cold, musty underground.
"Nope," Alaric replied, aiming his flashlight ahead. "Watch where you shine that thing, though. Bats hate the light."
"Wait—what?" Elena paused, blinking up at the low ceiling like a bat might drop on her head any second.
I snorted. "Relax, Elena. If anything flies at us, I'm sacrificing Alaric."
"Wow. Thank you for that," Alaric deadpanned, right before Damon suddenly materialized out of the shadows behind Elena.
"Boo," he whispered, smirking.
Elena jumped back with a gasp. "Ah! God, Damon!"
"Scaredy-cat," he teased, flashing his signature grin.
"Real mature," I muttered, rolling my eyes. "You planning to grow up any time this century?"
"Nope," Damon replied smugly, sticking his tongue out at me.
"Just ignore him," Alaric advised Elena. "It's the only way to survive him."
We reached a spot where the tunnel widened, but Damon abruptly stopped. "Well, this is where I hit my vampire wall."
"You really can't go any farther?" Elena asked.
"Nope. Even the ancient Lockwoods were anti-vampire, apparently."
"Ancient?" Elena frowned. "What do you mean ancient?"
Damon simply gestured ahead. "See for yourself."
I felt a chill run up my spine as we entered the deeper part of the tunnel. "Okay, seriously, I hate this place," I muttered.
"You and me both," Elena whispered back.
The flashlight beams skimmed over the walls, revealing intricate carvings—symbols, animals, and figures—etched into stone.
"What is all this?" Elena breathed, eyes wide.
"It's a story," I said, stepping closer to the wall. "A really, really old story. Like, before-wifi old."
