Not That Kind Of Witch • Kai Parker #1

02: who's here?

Valerie was disturbed from her reading when a plate was dropped in front of her. On said plate there was a pile of honey covered pancakes and the dick who dropped them plopped his ass down across from her. After spending six weeks in hell with a guy you get to learn a lot of about their character. And this douche was a certified dick.

His name was Damon Salvatore. His companion and the dick himself had insisted she stay at his place instead of live out eternity alone at her house, eating breakfast where she'd died every morning did sound a tad too morbid even for her.

Turns out she was in some sort of realm or plane that was just like the real world but they were the only three people here. Considering she was an atheist and believed she'd rot in the ground and become worm food after she croaked, this was a much better improvement. Also, it turns out vampires exist. It wasn't that hard for Valerie to come to terms with considering she was dead herself.

The third member of their trio was the one and only Bonnie Bennett, who she had known, well, she says known, she'd heard about her before she had her head smashed in. Luckily the giant gash on her face had healed up, she wasn't sure of the logistic behind it but Bonnie and Damon said the same happened to them. Bonnie was a self-proclaimed witch with no magic and at this point Valerie was more inclined to believe that Damon was a vampire than Bonnie was a witch. But that probably had something to do with him drinking blood from a bag every now and then.

"Bonbon! Breakfast is served." Damon shouted.

"Why do you make her pancakes every morning when you know she doesn't like them?" She pondered, digging into her plate whilst simultaneously reading her book.

She'd decided, on discovering she would spent the rest of her days here that she may as well learn something new. Valerie had always wanted to learn languages, so she was giving it a try. She'd been taking a stab at German, she wouldn't proclaim herself fluent but she was getting there.

"I make her pancakes everyday because I enjoy making pancakes and hope maybe one day my amazing cooking skills will sway her."

Nodding her head, Valerie hummed, "Sure, good luck with that."

Several minutes later, Valerie was two pancakes into her pile when Bonnie strolled in, yawning and holding an ancient book. She had been researching prison worlds in Books stolen from the vast Salvatore library.

"Morning."

Smiling up at her, Valerie asked, "Any success at finding out what this place is? Or what brought us here?"

Sitting down at the end of the table, Bonnie shook her head, "No, nothing yet."

Sounding anything but satisfied with Bonnie's optimism, Damon proclaimed, "I made you pancakes. Bon appétit."

"Damon, everyday since we arrived here, I've told you I hate pancakes." Bonnie reminded him, frustration rolling off her tongue.

A snide smirk lifted Damon's lips as he replied, "I know, but I do it for you anyway."

Valerie smiled, it was pretty much like this every morning. Every day was the same and it had become routine to listen to them bicker every chance they got.

Picking up her newspaper, Bonnie questioned, like she does every morning, "What's a seven letter word for kill me now?"

Apparently the crossword loving woman didn't know when to give up. Looking up from her book, Valerie answered, "I have no idea."

Stuffing the last of his pancakes into his giant mouth, Damon quipped, "That joke got old six weeks ago."

"And so did this crossword puzzle, I've tried this thing everyday for the past two months and I still can't figure this thing out." Bonnie interjected, throwing her pen and the paper onto the desk.