Prophecy

Beginning Of The End

Chapter Six

The night is cool and quiet as I walk along the deserted streets of Mystic Falls. I've always loved the silence here, the way the town feels almost timeless under the starlight. But tonight, I can't shake the feeling that something's about to change.

I'm just leaving the Grille when I see him—Damon, leaning casually against his car. His face lights up with that familiar smirk as he watches me approach.

"Couldn't resist a midnight snack?" he asks, his voice low and warm, inviting me closer.

I shrug, trying to play it off. "Could say the same about you."

He pulls a flask from his jacket, offering it to me with a mischievous grin. "Care to join me? It's the perfect way to end the night."

After the witch wine debacle, I wasn't thrilled to have alcohol anytime soon.

I hesitate, eyeing the flask. "What's in it?"

"Just a little something to take the edge off," he replies with his sultry eyes and lips daring me without saying it. "Come on, Blaire. Live a little."

Against my better judgment, I take the flask and bring it to my lips. The liquid is harsh, with a faintly sweet yet metallic taste. Like a sweet bourbon, but it's not unpleasant. I hand it back to him, wiping my lips as a strange warmth spreads through my veins.

"Not bad," I say, though there's an odd feeling in my stomach like I've swallowed something I shouldn't have.

Damon's smirk widens, and he glances toward the woods. "Come on," he says, his tone casual but with an edge that pulls me in. "Let's get out of here. I know a spot by the falls where we can enjoy some peace and quiet."

Without waiting for a response, he heads into the trees, and I find myself following him, drawn in by his enigmatic presence. We walk in silence, the woods around us growing denser, the air cooler. The only sound is the crunch of leaves beneath our feet and the distant rush of the waterfall. The place feels almost magical under the starlight, as though it exists outside of time.

Damon leads me to a secluded spot near the falls, where the water cascades down a rocky cliff, catching the moonlight in a way that makes it glow. He sits on a boulder, gesturing for me to join him, and I settle in beside him, the flask still warm in my hand.

"This place... it's beautiful," I whisper, the sight and sound of the falls almost hypnotic.

Damon nods, his gaze fixed on the water. "One of my favorite spots," he says, his voice unusually soft. "It's a good place to think, to escape. Out here, you can forget everything for a while."

I glance at him, caught off guard by the hint of vulnerability in his tone. "What do you have to escape from, Damon?"

He chuckles, but there's no humor in it. "You'd be surprised." He meets my eyes, and for a moment, I see a flicker of something deeper, something almost human.

"It's getting a bit chilly." I tell him while ribbing my arms together. 

He shifts, breaking the spell, and pulls the flask from his pocket, taking a sip before handing it back to me. "Here, have another. It'll warm you up a little."

I hesitate but take the flask, drawn in by his charm and the strange warmth of the alcohol. The taste is stronger this time, and there's that faint sweet metallic tang again, but I push the thought aside. I feel a sudden rush, like my senses are coming alive, everything sharper, more vivid.

Damon watches me intently, a small smile playing on his lips. "How do you feel?"

"Different," I admit, feeling a strange energy pulsing through me. "Almost... alive."