Thunderstruck ━ elena gilbert [2] ✔

𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑒𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑛

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
What Are You?

All of the rage built up, but Preston felt it coming beforehand, so she had gotten herself out of Mystic Falls and into a larger town outside of Mystic Falls. The mark was a much darker red than it previously was. Preston hadn't really slept in days, and from what others had noticed, she hadn't eaten in days. Both were unusual for her. And somehow she didn't feel ill despite the hold on food and sleep.

At 4:30 in the morning, Preston realised that she could summon a certain blade into her grasp. It helped when she was standing in front of a man who was bluffing about being able to fight her.

"I'm pretty sure I can win a fight against you. Hell— I can kill you!" The man said cockily.

Preston tilted her head, scoffing as a dark smirk took over her lips. There was always a man who acted tough, yet, they were always proven wrong. And Preston wasn't going to discard that idea. "You really think that you can kill me?" Preston stepped forward, summoning the blade that was placed on the wooden table.

"Sweetie," the second that he called her that, she clenched her jaw, "I am much stronger than you."

Preston got tired of him, so she twirled the knife for a few seconds before throwing the knife at his throat. Then she walked over to the man with a haunting smirk on her face. Preston grabbed a hold of the knife that only caught the collar of his white shirt, which was held against the wall. Preston tightened her grip around his right wrist, breaking it, then she took her knife which left a tear in his shirt, and dug the knife into his throat, leaving trails of blood on his throat. But it wasn't enough.

Preston removed the knife from his throat and drove it through his heart. She twisted the knife to do even more damage, and she laughed as the guy dropped to the floor. When she removed the knife from his chest, blood splattered onto her face, clothes, and hands. She looked down at the dead body with a pleasant expression on her face.

"Well that was quick." Preston commented to no one in particular.

She walked away from the now crime scene with no sense of guilt as she would let the body decay for hell knows how long. Preston found herself walking into an old, large, abandoned warehouse. She glanced around, seeing all of the lights were out.

"Fight us like a true hunter!" A man's voice yelled.

"Keep your voice down, you're gonna give me a headache." Preston replied.

"You're a monster." Another man said.

All of the lights flickered and stayed on. There were twenty men standing around her in a circle. Preston looked around at the twenty men as she turned around. She started to laugh.

"You think you're funny?" Another asked.

"I think I'm adorable." Preston snarked.

"You surely can't kill us all."

Preston had a devilish smirk on her face. They didn't realise the mark on her forearm. She didn't say a damn word, the silence was enough.

"We can kill you—"

"You can try." Preston taunted.

The twenty men rushed to attack her all at once, which she easily dodged. She threw a few of them to the wall with the newfound strength she had gained from the mark. Preston barely even used a knife. She left one alive for a minute.

He was knocked to the ground, then stood up, shaking in fear as he leaned against the wall. "What are you?"

"I'm a goddamn Winchester."

"Please... just... let me go."

"Alright," Preston smirked, snapping the vampire's neck, "there, I let you go." She dropped the body to the ground.

Preston wiped the blood splatter from her mouth, then she walked out, smiling at the thought of the dead bodies. Nothing was putting an end to the madness. It just felt like everything else was buried underneath dirt and stone in a casket. She didn't know where she was walking off to, but she just kept walking until she reached the woods.

A sharp pain quickly formed in her head for a minute, and she instinctively held her head and closed her eyes. She saw red, then black, then psychic bullshit. Part of her wanted to open her eyes, but the human part of her held curiosity for it. The man from her previous vision that calmed her down when she met Qetsiyah, he was in this vision, but he was much clearer.

From what she saw, he had short, dark brown hair, she couldn't really see the colour of his eyes, but there were quick scenes of him that switched. The first showed him with a blonde girl, maybe a year or two older than Preston, but it looked like the '70s or something, she was outside of a cell and he was in the cell. The second was him and what looked like Damon, which confused her. The last was where he was in a cellar and the entire place was lit by flames.

Preston's eyes shot open and she realised that she had sat down. She tried to catch her breath, realising everything she had done. Preston looked at the mark and saw it had faded a little bit. All of the blood. All of the lives she had taken just today.

But the guy, she needed to figure out who the hell he was and why he was able to calm her bloodlust.

She's gonna meet him soon, and you have no idea how excited I am to write it-

And, we had her bloodlust & murder rampage happening in this chapter

Okay, bye!