Damn Red Head Chick (Kasumi????? I cannot remember her name) just wanted to be nice to this little old lady on the train and some asshole just puts himself in the seat like dude she didn’t offer the seat to YOU
WHEN: March 26th, 2019
WHERE: Mystic Falls, VA. & Whitmore College
TW: blood, kidnapping
WORD COUNT: 494
He hadn’t passed out yet. Stefan was just laying there, bleeding out of his neck. He was trying to open his mouth to scream for help, but he couldn’t physically muster the energy to do so. His hands push against the cold ground, trying to prop himself up, but as much as he pushed, he wasn’t able to. He doesn’t know where his phone is, and can’t think of where it is, either. Everything is blurry, hazy, and the sharp pain in his neck was the only thing preventing him from passing out. The pain soon faded though, and his eyes struggle to stay open. After a grueling ten minutes, Stefan finally succumbs to what his body needs, unconsciousness. He was hidden in plain sight, seen from the sidewalk if you really looked, but not unhidden enough that the first person who walked by would get help.
Unbeknownst to Stefan, though, the very same people who had taken his brother were prowling around, looking for some more vampires to experiment on. The Salvatores had been in town newspaper clippings for decades, unaging, but reappearing, time and time again. After they had taken Damon once again, they were aware that it was time to find his other vampire brother once they returned to Mystic Falls. They were just looking for any vampire in general in the woods as the sun set upon the town, and through this, they stumbled upon what looked like the victim.
“Oh god, we need to take him to the hospital,” the man told his partner, the woman, and urged her to help him flip over the body. He gasped once he saw the distinctive features of Stefan Salvatore, the face looking the exact same as it did in all of the pictures his boss had collected from the past of him.
“He’s human?” the woman asked in surprise, the man trying to figure out what to do.
“Looks like it. Let’s take him. It’s definitely him. They could use him in the new human section.”
They both looked around, looking their arms under Stefan’s body and lifting, Stefan still unconscious, almost a deadweight in their arms.
—
Stefan awoke slowly, eyes adjusting to the bright light, wrapped in white sheets, a monitor beeping to represent his steady heart rate. He sighed in relief. He was safe. He lived. He would still get to be with his wife.
And then he saw the handcuffs on his wrist, the iron bars, the three cold walls around him. He started to panic, looking around what he thought was a safe hospital room to find that it looked more like a jail cell. He doesn’t want to scream, to draw attention to himself. Maybe his phone was nearby. Maybe someone was tracking him. He would be fine, right? He shouldn’t panic yet, he told himself.
He squinted to make out what was on the wall closest to him, numbers etched into the wall: 24035.
