Back With A Vengeance

A Dark Reunion

3RD POV

John Gilbert reached into the fridge, rummaging for something to drink after the long, chaotic night. His fingers found a bottle of water, and with a sigh, he closed the door—only to be startled by a silent figure standing just behind it.

"Elena." His heart skipped a beat at the blank expression on his niece's face. "You scared me."

"Sorry," she replied softly, her voice unnervingly cold as she moved around the counter, beginning to clear up the scattered dishes from the night's earlier festivities. Something about her felt off, but John brushed it aside.

He glanced around the room, realizing something was missing. "Is Jenna home?"

Elena, or who he thought was Elena, kept her focus on the dishes as she placed them in the sink with deliberate precision. "She had to meet the fire chief about the building." She paused, glaring at him briefly. "She doesn't know the truth. They covered it up."

John's stomach twisted in guilt. The Founder's Day Parade had ended in blood and chaos. Jenna, like the rest of the town, had no idea of the supernatural underbelly of Mystic Falls—an underbelly he'd helped keep hidden.

"Yeah, I know," he muttered, unable to meet her gaze. He shifted awkwardly, trying to change the subject. "How's Jeremy?"

Upstairs, Jeremy laid unconscious in his room, teetering on the edge of life and death, but John had no clue.

Before the silence between them grew too thick, the sound of a car pulling up outside caught John's attention. He didn't think much of it—probably just someone from the Council making their rounds. But outside, four shadowy figures stepped out of the car and approached the Gilbert home with chilling purpose.

Back inside, John moved toward Elena, hoping to bridge the growing tension. "Can I help?" he offered, gesturing to the mess on the kitchen island.

Elena's eyes flickered down to his outstretched hand, specifically his left ring finger. Her face remained blank, but there was a flicker of something colder beneath the surface. "Sure."

As they worked in tense silence, the four figures reached the front door. A tall brunette took the lead, her hand brushing the doorknob. With a soft click, the door unlocked on its own, and they slipped inside as quietly as shadows.

Back in the kitchen, the atmosphere shifted. Without warning, "Elena" grabbed a knife from the counter, her movements swift and precise. Before John could react, she slammed the blade down on his hand with brutal force, severing his fingers—and more importantly, his special ring.

John screamed, clutching his mutilated hand as blood spurted onto the counter. He staggered back, pressing himself against the sink, eyes wide with horror. As his vision cleared, realization dawned on him. This wasn't Elena at all.

"Katherine," he gasped, his voice shaking as the woman before him smirked, revealing her true face—the sharp, predatory visage of a vampire.

"Hello, John. Goodbye, John," she sneered, lifting her hand to deliver a fatal blow. But before her strike could land, something stopped her. Katherine's body seized up, her throat constricting painfully as if an invisible force was choking the life out of her. The knife slipped from her hand, skidding across the floor until it landed near the feet of the four figures who had now made their way into the room.

Katherine's eyes widened in shock as she and John both stared at the newcomers. The brunette at the front, her presence commanding, smiled darkly. "Hello, Katherine. So nice to finally meet you." Then, turning to John, her smile twisted into something colder. "Hey there, Uncle John."