𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 | 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐀𝐋𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐄

𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑

CHAPTER FOUR | FOR WHOM THE BELL TOLLS

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

IT WAS REMEMBERECE DAY IN MYSTIC FALLS, AND IT WAS WIDELY CELEBRATED. Mystic Falls was a town that suffered an incredible amount of loss, so it was only fitting that they had an occasion to celebrate that loss. Damon and Evelyn hoped that taking Stefan for a drink to go over the past one-hundred-and-sixty years help him remember everything else that he had forgotten. Everyone in the Grill was gathered around tables and raised their shot glasses as they celebrated fallen loved ones and family members.

"This town always so upbeat about dead people?" Stefan raised an eyebrow as he watched the dozens of people in the bar cheer about Uncle Steve, who was apparently dead, then they took a shot.

"Not usually." Evelyn chuckles softly once she lowered her shot from the air and downed it. "But I guess death happens so often in this town, now it's just an excuse to get hammered."

Damon nodded in response, then placed his tumbler of bourbon onto the table in front of him. "Well, in the theme of morbid town tradition, you go back to the 1820s when everyone was so paranoid about the cholera-thing that they would occasionally bury a body before it's time."

Stefan slowly nodded in understanding while he furrowed his brows. "So, we have a holiday dedicated to burying people alive?"

"Well, they were so paranoid that they would actually request to be buried with a string attached to a bell above ground. Then, the whole family would hang around the grave for twenty-four hours in hopes of hearing the bell and that their loved ones would come back, but not it's really just a kick-ass excuse to get hammered."

A waitress headed over to the table and started to clear up their empty shot gasses and the trio a smile. However, Stefan's attention was taken by the pulsing vein on her neck. "Hey, can we get another round in please?" Evelyn asked with a smile cast on her face, just as the woman nodded and walked away.

Stefan blinked a few times with a look of confusion across his face as he looked between Damon and Evelyn. "What the hell was that?"

"That, my brother, was you jonesing for something a little stronger than a blood bag," Damon vaguely explained with a sigh.

"So, what's the problem? You spent the whole day trying to convince me I'm a vampire. I'm convinced. Now let me act like one."

Evelyn pushed her hand onto the vampire's chest, in case he made any sudden movements. "Sorry, Stef. No can do." She watched Stefan glare harshly toward her. "I mean, there are two different types of vampires, okay? There are ones that can control their bloodlust, and then there's you. A Ripper."

"Well, I'm no shrink." Stefan shrugged, then he turned to Damon. "But, maybe killing our father, and turning into a vampire, and all the trauma associated with that is what made me become a vampire, who feeds on people and rips their heads off. But now I don't have all those memories and all that guilt, maybe the Ripper thing won't be such a problem."