To All A Goodnight (Opener Perhaps?)
Damon Salvatore is many things; sadistic, monstrous, cruel, manipulative and borderline evil. Yet, beneath all that there is still a man. A man that had once been human and brought up to be a Southern gentleman who respected the Southern belles or any other girl he met for that matter. It’s that man who every now and then surfaces when he spots some idiot not understanding the word ‘no.’ It’s that man who doesn’t take kindly to a woman being taken advantage of and it’s that man whose attuned hearing picks up on the sound of a woman in the streets of New York struggling to break from her captor.
It’s the night before Christmas and even though most are spending time with their loved ones there are still individuals doing some last minute shopping. Maybe it’s because they procrastinate or their job is their life but either way this woman had been at the wrong place at the wrong time. Walking into the darkened alley he spots shopping bags on the ground and the woman pinned against the cold brick wall. He remains silent for a moment, cobalt blues assessing the situation and noting that the attacker is using his burliness to his advantage. That drawing Damon to smirk because the games just been changed.
“Well I know who will be getting coal in their stocking”
Announcing himself as the man turns around to see who the hell had been stupid enough to interrupt.
“Piss off pretty boy she’s already taken.”
The comment only drawing Damon’s smirk to widen.
“Yes, she seems quite taken with you given the fact that she’s trying to break free from your grasp.”
Feeling a hint of bravery the woman calls out to Damon.
That earning her a slap and causing Damon’s jaw to tick as he steps forward.
“You know I’m trying to accept the Christmas spirit and be jolly but you’re making this really difficult for yourself.”
Laying his hand on the man’s shoulder which results in the burly man’s fist coming straight towards Damon’s face but he’s already anticipated this. With ease he catches the man’s fist and shakes his head. Gone is the amusement mirroring in his eyes and the Cheshire cat smirk on his lips. Leaning forward, his movements fluid and steady as he does so and for a moment he just stares the man down as he increases his grip on his locked fist. When he does speak it’s clipped. His voice deep and menacing as the monster takes over.
In one fluid motion he snaps his wrist back. The man howling in pain as he drops to the floor. Attention now diverting back to the woman who is paralyzed in fear. Cupping her face in his hands, his pupils dilating as he draws her under his spell.
“You’re going to collect your bags and leave. This didn’t happen. You went shopping. It was chaotic and stressful but soon as you finished you went straight home and made yourself a much deserved glass of eggnog, Merry Christmas.”
Robotically the woman brushes past him, collects her things and takes her leave. Casting his attention back towards the man on the pavement the blueness in his eyes a soulless black.
“Now what am I going to do with you?”
Considering it before he grabs him by the collar of his jacket and slams him against the brick wall. Reveling the monster within as veins appear beneath his eyes and pupils begin to dilate pulling him in.
“Don’t move in fact don’t even speak”
Without another word Damon is releasing his hold on the man and stepping over towards the dumpster as he spots something that catches his full attention.
“You know what I’m not a fan of rats. They’re disgusting little things. There is nothing remotely good about them. They sneak into places where they are unwanted, dirty little things and let’s be honest just plain ugly.”
Retrieving the bottle he spins on his heels and flashes a disturbing smile to the man who is rooted to his spot.
Slowly advancing towards him with a slight pep in his step as he jabs him in the chest with his finger.
“You’re a rat. You look like you haven’t showered in days, your breath reeks with a mixture of alcohol and smoke and well those advances you made towards that woman tonight were unwanted and I don’t take kindly to that. You know how they go about eliminating rats?”
The distaste in his voice sharp enough to cut through glass as he unscrews the cap of the bottle.
Once again Damon’s eyes darken and his pupils dilate as he shoves the bottle into the man’s hands.
“Since you enjoy drinking so much here’s your poison. Rat poison to be exact and you’re going to finish the whole bottle.”
The struggle in the man’s eyes is borderline satisfying to Damon. Catching sight as tears well in them because he’s trying to fight off the compulsion but failing. His mind is screaming to drop the bottle but his hand raises it to his mouth.
“Oh how the tables have turned. Sucks to be powerless doesn’t it?”
Tears starting to run down the strangers face as his mouth touches the rim of the bottle.
“Now you know how all those past victims felt when you took advantage of them”
Gulp after gulp he watches as the strangers life suddenly begins to fade from his eyes. Blood starting to trickle down his nose but Damon doesn’t even flinch because there’s no way in hell he’s tempted to take a sip.
Enhanced hearing listening as the man’s heartbeat begins to fade until finally his now lifeless body sags to the cold pavement.
Dangerous yet delighted blues casting down towards the dead man as Damon claps his hands together.
He smoothly supplies, stepping over the body without a care, wandering back onto the New York streets and whistling a holiday tune.
