Kismet | Damon Salvatore

Chapter 5

Maribel never thought she'd be imprisoned.

She'd never been detained by the police. Never drove over the speed limit. Never got caught drinking while underage. Never even parked where she wasn't supposed to.

And now she was rotting in a cell, her vision so blurred, she was sure she had brain damage. Whatever he'd injected her with was keeping her too weak to try and escape. So, instead, she lay curled up, a buzzing filling her ears and making it hard for her to know what Damon and Elena were saying.

"Maribel," pleaded Elena. "Maribel, wake up. You can't go to sleep."

"I know," she said softly, leaning up against the bars. The cold metal soothed her slightly. "Oh, I feel so sick..."

"Damon, we have to get out of here," pleaded Elena. "She's gonna die. Can you reach her? Can you give her some of your blood?"

"Maribel," urged Damon. "Get as close as you can to this side." He waved his hand out, doing his best to signal where he was.

"I don't think I can move," she said weakly. "My head hurts so bad, if I move I see spots."

She could hear Elena rattling the bars of the cage as hard as she could. "WES!" yelled Elena. "LET US OUT OF HERE! Maribel will die if you don't!"

"I don't think he cares about me anymore," whispered Maribel.

"Maybe when the vervain wears off, we'll be able to break through these," said Damon, imitating Elena.

"Why are we even here?" demanded Elena. "Why are these cells here in the first place?"

"Wes is carrying out the grand Augustine tradition," said Damon. "Getting his kicks off vampire torture."

"Did he tell you that?"

"He didn't have to," said Damon. "I've been here before. Someone in my family sold me out to the Augustines in 1953. Every day, this nut job Dr. Whitmore tortured us, cut into us, took pieces of our eyes out, pushed us to every limit he could imagine. And he had quite the imagination. Kept me in this very cell, and don't think I haven't appreciated the irony."

"How long were you here?" asked Elena. Maribel was just as curious, but was too weak to express it.

"Five years, give or take."

"Damon, how did you not go crazy?"

"Believe it or not, I made a friend. His name was Enzo. He was a soldier in Europe during World War II."

"How did he end up here?"

"Dr. Whitmore was working in a battlefield hospital when he discovered Enzo was a vampire, so he drugged him, locked him in a coffin, and shipped him overseas. He'd been here for ten years by the time I joined the party."

"Damon," said Elena slowly, "Wes knew my dad. They worked together. He said that my dad was an Augustine, too. I know that my dad was a vampire hunter, but he was also the town doctor. He was kind and gentle and loving. He wouldn't be part of a place that would cut your eyes out."

"People are full of surprises," said Damon. "I am so sorry I got you caught up in this. I promise you I will get you out of here, okay? Okay... I'll get you out of here."

Elena sighed. "I know. Damon... how did you survive all those years?"

"Enzo's friendship kept me alive, he gave me a reason to hang onto my humanity even when I thought I'd be a prisoner forever."

"Wait," mumbled Maribel tiredly. "Your brother... he can get us out, right? If he notices you guys aren't coming back... are his memories back?"

"His memories are back, but I've got some bad news for you, Beli, Stefan doesn't even know this place exists. Memories or not he isn't coming to rescue us."