"I am not the kind of princess that needs saving. I'm probably not a princess at all. You can be the gallant prince all you want, that's fine. But, get the saving me part out of your head. I am not a damsel in distress, I am not a trapped girl. If I...
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"I am not a stranger to the dark."
~ Unknown
¤~☆~¤
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
"You know." Stefan relents, his lips forming a line as he accepts his defeat.
"Well, you didn't exactly make it hard to figure out." I shrug casually, stepping back to lean against the railing around the porch as I fold my arms after placing my water bottle down, allowing him to step out and close the door.
"Yet, you still came?" He asks, confused.
"I may know what you are, but there are still questions that need to be answered." I inform him, to which he nods slowly.
"Everything you know. . . And, every belief that you have is about to change." The dramatic vampire warns lowly. "Are you ready for that?"
"Honey, I've known about all of this for years before you popped back up in town." I state bluntly with the raise of my brow, shocking him. "My family keeps journals detailing everything. My parents liked to play it off as dumb fictional stories my ancestors liked to write, but they're journals, something private for only the writer and those in the family it gets passed down to to read; they were never published; and, I highly doubt that every member in the family is going to write basically the same story as the previous -- talk about a lack of creativity. For another thing, my father was a doctor and he never once wrote stories on the side, yet his own journal held the same things as the others." I roll my eyes. "And, if they were just stories, there'd be no reason to have an actual arsenal of weapons to kill fictional monsters." I add offhandedly as I whip out the gun and point it at Stefan's face, making him shift uneasily as he watches me warily.
He nods slowly, carefully raising his hands as he takes a step back, as if trying to seem less threatening.
"What do you need answered?" The bunny-snatcher asks, switching his gaze between my blank features and the barrel of the gun.
"All those attacks they're covering up as animal attacks, those people that died." I mention, tightening my hold on the weapon. "Who was it?" I ask firmly. "You? Your brother? Both? Or, are there more of you?"
Stefan quickly shakes his head at the accusations.
"No." He says quickly. "That was Damon. It's just us, there aren't any others -- not anymore."
