Forever Is Not Enough

The Ripper of Monterey

1912 - Mystic Falls, Virginia

Elena sat in front of a large window in her bedroom, as she had done every night for a fortnight. The sky was pitch black and only a sliver of the moon was visible. The farmhouse was completely silent, for all of its inhabitants had fallen asleep long before. Jordan stirred in the bed behind her, pulling the covers up to his chin and letting out a deep sigh before settling back into the mattress. A large oak tree swayed lazily in the on the outskirts of the Gilbert's garden.

Irritation tingled in her belly, and for the thousandth time since she arrived in Mystic Falls she imagined ripping every thread of hair from her head. At least then, she would have something to do. She took the cigarette that had been dangling passively between her lips into her fingers flicking the ash onto the floor. Bonnie hated when she smoked in the house, and it brought a smile to her face just thinking about her finding the mess strewn across the floor. She watched the few smoldering bits of ash gently disperse across the ugly brown rug below her, gleaming up at her as though they were eyes, and then gently fading to a dark gray.

She replaced the cigarette between her lips and her head fell with a dull thud on the back of her chair. Perhaps Abby had been wrong in prediction, as both her mother and father had insisted, yet Elena believed still. How could Abby have known otherwise? Elena had been avoiding him for decades now. He followed her from state to state and then from continent to continent. She rolled her eyes just thinking of it. Stefan Salvatore, she thought. The gallant and love-struck ignoramus set on avenging Katherine Pierce, a murderer and madwoman. Elena pictured Stefan, clad in a knight's metal suit, tripping over his own feet and accidentally piercing himself with his own sword. Her late "aunt" was just there, tied to a tree, watching helplessly as Elena, the beautiful villainess laughed victoriously before putting her out of her misery. The thought cheered her some.

The prospect of Stefan coming to kill her was more of an annoyance than a serious threat, in Elena's opinion. He was reckless and stupid. He thought Elena would be as easy to kill as a fragile human. She spoke of dangerous adventures and trips through the desserts. She spoke of a sun that was so bright, even their rings did not prevent them from turning an ugly shade of red until they found shade to cool off. All was very well and normal until at the very end, as though it was only an afterthought, she mentioned that Stefan had appeared out of nowhere and attempted to stake Klaus in broad daylight. She assured Elena that neither her or Klaus were marked by as much as a scratch, yet he fled before either of them could put a stop to him. All in all, it seemed that Caroline thought of it as more of an anecdote than a warning.

Elena spent many years putting space between her and Stefan, for she was realistic. They were more evenly matched, and should he show his face, she would have to put up much more of a fight than Caroline and Klaus, who were very old and very strong. However, it had been many months since Elena had heard any troubling news about her old friend. She had not given him a second thought until Abby mentioned him in her prediction. Of course, she was only a child, Elena reasoned. There was no way that her power could have manifested at such an early age. Even so, Elena remained guarded, more for her family than herself. Sometimes she wondered if she cared for them or if she would rather kill them than let anyone else.

It was a dreadfully tedious existence; she was stuck inside during the day with the curtains drawn, and she was stuck inside during the night, watching out her window. The only break from it all was feeding, which had grown inconceivably more boring, and her time spent with Jeremy, though he had grown so feeble that even lying in bed and chatting with her was too tiring after long.

She decided that once Jeremy was gone the Gilberts would have to fend for themselves. Surely Little-Miss-Witch would be more than capable of killing a vampire, as she so often liked to remind Elena. To ease her mind, she convinced the family to assign ownership of the house to Grayson almost immediately after her arrival, though the family was less agreeable about inviting her in again.