Emma Fell hated being immortal. She spent every day wishing she could go back to her life when her heart would still beat. She missed her mother and father. She missed Mystic Falls. Worst of all, she missed Damon Salvatore.
Maybe this is why she nev...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Sweden, 2009
Emma's pissed off today. Then again she always seems to be pissed off recently. She decided long ago that immortal life really didn't suit her. She missed feeling alive. She could pretend all she wanted but she knew the endless dreary coldness of being a vampire would never compare to feeling the warmth of the sun on her face.
She gave up on finding enjoyment out of her eternal life somewhere around the early 1980's. She bleached her hair and changed her style from sundresses to leather jackets. She stopped putting flowers in her hair, and instead opted for messy black eyeliner. She figured if she was going to live in misery, she would own it.
She and George had managed to stay together for about four decades before the looming of forever split them up. They were turned together, about six months after their wedding, and navigated the early years of immortality together. That was bond they both held close.
She still called him once a week. They loved each other still, but years had turned their love more platonic than the deep romance it once was. He had moved on, having spent the last near century with his partner, Jamari, who he had met on a visit to Africa.
Emma was happy for them, of course. She adored Jamari and thought the two of them were perfect for each other. She couldn't help but feel jealous at times, though, that they had found one another. She was tired of being alone. But here she was, in Sweden, alone in a packed club that she decided to work at.
The club she's working at is playing shitty music, and a British tourist won't leave her alone. It's taking everything in her to not crawl over the three feet of bar in front of her and strangle the man to death.
He's drunk, probably blacked out at this point, and slurring his way through the worst pick up lines Emma has heard in maybe a century. The worst part was, the most Emma could do was smile condescendingly at him while he did so. She was 'working' after all.
Her M.O. for the last fifteen years was working at night clubs around Europe. It was perfect really. She never had to be out during the day, and there was always a skeezy man for her to feed on.
Don't worry, she never killed them. Just drank enough to leave them passed out in the alley.
She decided about thirty minutes ago that Casanova across the bar was a perfect fit for a quick meal. He had moved on from her to young woman that had sat down next to him. She is probably more intoxicated than he is, and very much not aware of surroundings. That is exactly how the asshole was able to slip a pill into her drink without her noticing.
This, of course, really pissed Emma off. She got the attention of the security guard, nodding at the guy. Without hesitation, security grabbed him and took him outside.
Emma promptly took the drink away from the girl before she could have any, threw it away, and left the bar. The girl didn't even notice the loss of her beverage, or even the tainting of it. Her boss, also drunk, didn't even notice her leave.
