The morning was almost an usual one. The Salvatore School was hit by the cold winds of winters, and the sun had yet to rise from behind the horizon.
Creek…
The wood used to make the stairs crunched under the feet of the apparent only soul awake in the school. His hands swung with every step down, his sandals protecting the sole of his feet against the cold floor.
Reaching the ground floor, John slowly turned his head to the upper levels of the building, the phantom of a frown on his forehead.
Strange… Thought the young man, his eyes falling back to look ahead. Calmly, he stepped away from the staircase, heading towards his destination–the library.
To reach there, the boy passed by the great hall, taking in the eerie silence consuming the place. It appeared the place was submerged into a creeping darkness despite no apparent change in the environment–bar by the fireplace was in a rare moment not burning, which sank the room in a shivering gray cold color of morning.
As he crossed the hall, John darted his eyes around, slightly perturbed by the ambience while approaching the library.
Only when he stood under the archway connecting both rooms did the young man straighten his eyes, more so to focus on the only other person his senses could find awake right now.
"Mr. Williams."
Listening to someone call his name, the librarian–Dorian–turned around. "John, up already?" His tone wasn't high, almost restrained.
"Didn't even sleep." John replied in an equal low tone, approaching the man at slow steps. "Spent the entire night studying a few general things, so as not to waste time." He said, raising his hand. Held between his fingers, stacked, were three books.
Taking them up, Dorian briefly glanced at their covers. By the end, his brows lifted in some mild surprise. "Changed from magic to languages?" He asked, lifting his eyes at the boy.
"I just wanted to test one thing." John said, casually. "And you, if I may ask. What is your reason to be awake at 5 in the morning on a saturday?"
"Habit." Dorian promptly replied. "I sleep early, wake up early. And if I stay in bed, I feel uneasy." He paused briefly in his words. "Even more so on days like these."
John snorted, comprehending the man's reasons. "I see." Slowly, the boy looked over his shoulder. "Is that why the school seems to be under… an eerie environment despite no one awake yet?"
Surprisingly, the librarian scoffed a little humorously at the boy's words. "You are not wrong on that." Dorian said, crossing his arms. "You can say everyone is on edge even in their sleep."
"No kidding…" John said, retracting his sight forward under slow movements. I thought I had closed that. He thought, his eyes going blank for a moment. I see… it loosened a bit. Strangely, I don't remember doing that. Inwardly, the young man frowned. Shit, I got to control these things. The last thing I need is for my mind to go to full capacity and I have to hear and feel every single thought and emotion in this school.
The environment around the boy was slow at this moment. Despite having thought and found what was the reason for his slight uneasiness, he was still turning his head due to the normal speed he was using to complete the action.
In other terms and simply explained, the young man's mind and body were behaving under different rates. A slight trick he learned while spending hours reading.
And then, despite the short moment needed for the boy to act, it was more than enough for the boy to raise a prospect–almost an intrusive thought–in his mind.
Hm… The boy contemplated the idea, finding it an interesting one. It's worth attempting. He decided, the idea gaining the foothold needed for him to attempt it.
For those who observed the boy, or better yet, the only person observing him, the changes he would undergo would seem abrupt. However, for John, who slowly dropped down that barrier around his mind, it was a gradual process.
It started slow. Immediately, the boy felt almost nothing upon full release of his mind, only the faint thoughts escaping the mind of the man next to him. But still, those were something the young man had trouble to comprehend. What he mostly understood were the sentiments behind the librarian's thoughts.
There was curiosity, and then underneath it there was a sensation of waryness. And even deeper in the man's thoughts–unrelated to the boy he stared at–was a growing, gnawing worry. So much so the mere contact upon the emotion left the boy feeling a weak knot in his chest.
Unfortunately for the boy, the librarian's worry wasn't the only negative sensation he felt.
The impact felt was similar to a wave, one carrying all the emotions and sentiments of dozens of individuals. And since most of the school was asleep, their emotions in action were free.
Anxiety was prominent, and the sheer amount of it which hit the young man made every fiber of his body stiffen slightly and a sense of unease crept into his mind.
It would be one thing if the emotions the boy felt were from a single person, but unfortunately for John, the entirety of the anxiety of everyone in the school conglomerated and reached his mind.
Shit…! John thought, the sentiments affecting him through his mind. The feeling of his body reacting to others' emotions, one such as anxiety, made him feel a deep discomfort.
It was too sudden, too abrupt. At a point, not even one second after John released his mind, he felt his vision blurring. The figure of the librarian in front of him distorting so much so he couldn't even discern the fact his expression was changing by noticing the sudden unease surfacing on the boy's expression.
And when it reached the level of when he started to feel his muscles becoming unresponsive, John felt a small sign of urgency. I must get out of this! The boy thought, immediately closing that part of his mind again.
Immediately, everything returned to normal. Still, John already had felt the impact.
"Wow." Dorian weakly exclaimed after seeing the shifts in the boy's expression. He pushed himself away from the table he was leaning on and approached the boy. "Hey, John. Are you alright?"
"Huff…" To get some of the unease away, the boy exhaled profusely. "Yeah, I am. I just…" John didn't properly finish his words before finding the closest table to lean on for some support. "Sorry, I just felt a lot at once."
Despite Dorian not understanding what exactly the boy meant with these words, the librarian still calmly nodded. "Okay, no worry." He said, observing the young man taking deep breaths to retreat to some state of normalcy. "I was surprised. Your face just abruptly changed. I thought you were being possessed."
"Ha…" The boy dryly laughed. "Not too far from that, depending on the angle you see it." John dropped his head, letting it hang by his neck as he looked at the floor. Shit, I totally didn't expect that.
"You look tired." Dorian commented.
"Just mentally strained for the moment." John responded. "I will get better in no time." He said, slowly standing up. "I will see if I can find anything in the kitchen for me to eat. I suddenly lost the will to wait till breakfast."
"Okay, okay." Dorian said.
As his expression gradually cleaned, John looked at Dorian. "Could you get me some books by the time I am back?"
"Sure, no problem." The librarian nodded. "What do you want?"
"Dictionaries and language-teaching books."
"Okay." Dorian said, his eyes immediately darting around the library as he remembered where these books were located. "You will have them ready when you return."
"Thanks, Dorian." John turned around and walked away from the library, his hand weakly rubbing against his forehead.
…
Whoo…
The small glass door to the top wall cabinet was pushed to the side, revealing for the boy a set of large glass mugs.
"Perfect." John grabbed one of them before closing the cabinet.
Walking a few steps, the young man stopped before one of the kitchen isles in the room, setting down the last thing he needed.
"Eggs, bacon, chocolate powder, milk…" He murmured the ingredients over the surface, followed by a light nod from him when confirming he had everything. "Let's start."
The next minutes flew by unnoticed by the boy as he immersed himself in his actions and thoughts. From the moment he coated the pan with olive oil to heating up the milk, John was unperturbed as he flawlessly coursed through the kitchen in his preparation for his meal.
If there was a moment he went slightly sidetracks was when he was mixing the milk and cocoa powder.
When he slightly sped up the movement of his wrist to create a stronger centrifugal force, the boy weakly smiled when he almost soaked his shirt with the drink. Thankfully, the sweet drink was stopped and held mid-air by John's mind.
He weakly scoffed at that before proceeding to normally prepare his breakfast.
Fifteen minutes–give or take–was all the boy needed for him to prepare the meal before him.
Wiping his hands with a tablecloth, appreciating with his eyes and nostrils the meal prepared. "Should I prepare one more plate?" John abruptly asked.
"If you could prepare some coffee for me instead, I would gladly accept."
Turning around, John spotted his spectator for the last couple of minutes.
She stood there, leaning on the door's frame. No pants or jeans, just some sport shorts, a black blouse barely seen under the hoodie hiding her curves, and a pair of slippers on her feet.
Two necklaces adorned her neck, their pendants resting over her chest–almost protectively. And surrounding three of her fingers were rings, the three spectacularly beautiful from first sight, the small gems on them just losing in beauty against the pale blue eyes of their owner.
Just seeing her there, standing under the pure white light above and the darkness of the room behind her, perfectly contrasting her figure, the still lingering stress holding his shoulders disappeared when the young man rested his eyes over her.
"Good morning, Hope."
The girl smiled beautifully. "Good morning." Hope said. "How was your night?" She asked, at slow steps approaching the boy.
"Almost the same as the last." John said, walking around to get more ingredients. "The difference was that instead of almost not getting any sleep, I didn't get any sleep at all." He said while opening the refrigerator.
Unnoticed by the boy, a slight wisp of worry resurfaced on the girl's eyes. "Are you fine?" Hope asked, and if the emotions in her eyes weren't visible for the boy, the same couldn't be said for the tone of her voice.
Rising his head from behind the refrigerator's door, John calmly laid his eyes on the girl. "I am fine, I feel fine. But…" He paused. "Huff… how should I say it? There is a slight strangeness on the back of my neck." He weakly slammed the door shut. "The last three days, for example, almost feel like one sometimes when I think of it."
Hope's brows furrowed. "I don't know if it applies to you but, even for immortal beings like vampires, staying awake for too long isn't a good thing." She said, observing him carry some ingredients in his hands.
"I know, I read about it." John said, putting down the ingredients. When remembering that prospect–about that idea written in the book–the boy couldn't resist but divert the topic of the conversation ever so slightly. "Don't you think that's interesting? Vampires apparently retain certain parts of their mortality?"
"Maybe in a different way than you." Hope replied.
The young man tossed a look at her. "I mean, they are immortals, even if with a lot of 'buts'. And one of these buts is that their bodies still behave similarly like those of mortals." John broke the eggs on the edge of the stones surface, ripping it apart on the frying pan. "Just like mortal creatures, they bleed, they have the need to sleep, and though abated by their hunger for blood, they still feel hunger in a small decree."
"Maybe that's the same with you?" Hope suggested.
Subtly, the boy nodded in recognition of her words. "You are not wrong about that…" John looked over his shoulder. "How would you like your eggs?"
There was a short silence before Hope's words. "Fried."
John returned his sight forward, proceeding to prepare the eggs as Hope wished. "What you said certainly makes sense." He said. "When I learned about me, about my parents, my origins, there were a few reasons I believe to contribute to the fact I didn't experience an existential crisis. One of them is that–in a way–I'm still somewhat human." The boy paused in his words, expecting some comment from the girl standing behind him. However, from Hope's part, only silence followed.
And even if so subtly, the atmosphere changed. Nothing severe or heavy, just a serenity that accompanied the air.
Noticing it, the boy proceeded with his words. "Hard to believe?" He asked. "Just because I can fly and can achieve certain feats by myself, that doesn't mean I'm not human."
That doesn't make a single sense… Hope mentally whispered. Her view of the boy's words was influenced by the world she lived her whole life.
Nonchalantly, John flipped the eggs in the air. He flawlessly caught them with the pan, now frying its former up part. "I can't say much else about me in that regard. Not because it is some big secret, but more because I myself don't know certain pieces about myself. But I can certainly say I am human, or at least partially."
"How…what you don't know about yourself?" Hope asked, the curiosity from her heart getting released.
Unfortunately for her, the boy wouldn't satiate her curiosity.
"A few truths, of the real things." John said, twisting his hand as he lowered the stove's temperature. It certainly is strange to know something is missing, but not exactly knowing what. "But that's not what we were talking about. We got slightly sidetracked." He turned around, facing the girl
"You sidetracked." Hope casually, even softly, corrected him. "I just went along."
"Fair enough, I guess." John nodded, weakly snorting. "But in regards to what we were talking about, I think it makes a somewhat sense that I do not feel comfortable in regards to staying so long without sleep. I was a mortal, a human. And partially, I still am. But now, with the touch of immortality upon me."
Upon listening to the boy's words, Hope blinked. Not once, but twice before a look of confusion replaced her eyes. "Some of the things you are saying now just don't make any sense to me."
"For example?" John asked as he continued to prepare the girl's breakfast.
A beat of silence followed the boy's words before Hope parted her lips to reply. "The fact you say you are still human."
Despite having his back facing her, Hope could tell the young man raised his brow in a sudden reaction out of surprise for her words. And genuinely, she felt her words had some effect upon him despite his continued movements.
Hope was about to continue her words, to continue her thoughts. However, the boy's words didn't let her.
"If I am not human, Hope, what am I?" John asked, eyeing his hands carefully preparing the ingredients.
"You, you are…" Listening to the question, Hope didn't properly think much for an answer. The words coming out of her mouth were more instinctively said than anything.
And before she had time to think about it, the boy replied. "I am no vampire, Hope. No werewolf. And despite being capable of magic, I am not capable of doing it the same way as you or other witches from what I have seen. So, what am I?" John asked again. However, he never pretended to hear an answer for this question. "Believe it or not, I am somewhat human." A part of me, at least. He murmured inwardly.
Getting the pieces off the cheese he cut, John calmly brought it to the frying pan. He put it over the olive oil as well, letting it grease as he gently took the eggs off the pan, placing it on a plate he had picked beforehand.
He did all of this through a silence that weakly permeated the kitchen, for the only other person in it was found silently staring at the young man's actions.
She observed as the young man suddenly put his hands on the kitchen island, and he seemed thoughtful for the moment.
"Speaking truthfully-" John spoke again. "Even I am not aware of what exactly I am."
"You are starting to really confuse me now." Hope blurted out.
"Hmph." The young man humorously snorted. "I guess I am." John said. "So, for you to not get more confused nor I start to get confused, how about we end it here?" He asked, giving a small glance at the girl. "I am about to finish your meal anyway."
Again, there was a short silence placed between both teenagers. One because he had given their suggestion, and the other because she thought carefully of what to say.
"Okay…" Was all that Hope said, her one-word phrase backed by her soft voice.
Giving a peek at the girl behind him by looking over his shoulder, John lightly smiled. "There will come a day… that I will fully explain to you what I said today." There was a drop of gentleness in his words. "And thank you."
"For what?"
"For helping me think through a few things." John replied. "There wasn't exactly a moment that made me doubt it or forget it, but I guess it did me some good–even if a little–to remind myself loud and clear that I am human." He paused in his words "Or somewhat human." He added, followed by the muffled sound of a chuckle.
Following the boy's words, Hope didn't say anything. For she didn't know what to say.
She just stood there, observing her new friend as the crackling sound of the olive oil burning against the cheese and bacon echoed throughout the kitchen.
"How about you go get our table while I finish it here?" He asked, casually. "I will bring everything in a minute."
"… Sure." Hope nodded, blankly. "I will be waiting for you."
"Okay."
But her leave wasn't immediate.
Hope stood there for a few couple moments after her words, her eyes glued to the young man's figure.
It was just after those few seconds that she turned around, slowly. And even if not made for it, the sound of her slippers echoed strangely well in the silence of the morning.
And as the sound of her steps became infinitely low for anyone to hear, even himself, John stood still, hands dropping against the surface of marble as he weakly dropped his head.
"Sigh…" He exhaled, profusely. What the hell was that conversation? John asked himself.
…
Sitting down on her usual seat in the dining hall, Hope stared into the void, lost in her own thoughts.
She would only break out of it when the doors to the hall opened, a tall figure stepping past them.
When seeing John, with him emptyhanded, the young woman frowned a little in doubt, asking herself what happened to the breakfast.
And sincerely, Hope was surprised when she saw two dining plates floating in the air behind the boy. And the surprise was further increased–even if not much–when she saw two mugs following the plates, with one of them having a small cloud of vapor coming off its top.
"I guess that's a way to serve food." Hope commented, not putting much weight in her words.
John just offered a weak snort of amusement in return while he placed down the plates. "Here it is, the best breakfast you will ever eat in your life." He stated, sitting down opposite of the girl.
Those words only made Hope lift her eyes at the boy, doubt in them.
And John noticed them. "If you don't believe in me, you just need to take a bite off it and say I'm wrong."
"You sure are confident." Hope said, taking hold of the cutlery.
In slow moves, Hope raised her knife and fork. And the first thing she did with them was cut a piece of the bacon, the flawlessly fried food especially attracting her sight.
"After this, we will help Dr. Saltzman with the things, okay?" Hope said, bringing the piece she cut off to her mouth. She bit on it.
John, drinking his hot cocoa, nodded weakly as he put the cup down. "Okay." He said, not minding help out. "Anything I need to know before proceeding there?"
Raising her hand in a gesture for the boy to wait as she chewed on the food, Hope gulped down her meal. It actually tastes very good. Hope thought. "First thing we will do is to inspect the bunkers, to verify if everything is in place. A final check before the full moon."
"Bunkers, hm…" John muttered. "I imagine they are hidden somewhere, right? Since we didn't stumble upon it on our tour before yesterday."
"They are in a part of the forest people normally don't go to." Hope explained. "It is underground, for safety."
"I see." John nodded. "The transformation… it doesn't seem like a good experience to go through."
"It isn't." Hope's tone changed, her words carrying a more seriousness to it. Her eyes stared into the void, with her reminiscing of her first transformation. "You have all your bones broken. Your flesh rips apart and changes to that of a wolf. Your mind… it goes blank as your consciousness is forced to surrender to nothing but primitive thoughts." Her grip on the hand of the mug slightly tightened as the memories came. "There is nothing a werewolf doesn't attack. If it does not recognize you as part of its pack and you move, it will try to bite your head off."
That bad… John thought.
"The worst is the fact we live in a building with at least a couple dozen vampires." Hope said, raising her mug to half the distance to her mouth, letting it hang in the air momentarily. "It doesn't matter if the vampire is ten meters or five miles away from the wolf, it will sense them, and will do everything to reach them."
Right, because dear old Nature apparently decided that werewolves should be a counterforce against vampires. John thought. And as he thought of it, an idea popped in his mind. Now that raises the question. Why werewolves exactly? Was it because the Mikaelsons had werewolves as neighbors? It couldn't be because of the blood feud created by Mikael, since it started after their transformation. Maybe some other connection that I'm missing? I should take a look at that after.
As the boy delved in his thoughts, Hope put down her mug of coffee. I think the coffee I usually drink got pushed down a few levels. She thought, giving her lips a quick lick to wipe away the small drops of coffee on it. "I just expect everything to go well tonight."
"You say it like things haven't gone before." John said.
Hope pursed her lips, a small indirect act of her confirming his words. "One year ago…" She exhaled sharply when remembering that night. "We didn't expect one of the new wolves to reach a level of aggression and power. It tore apart the steel chains and ran away towards the forest."
"What happened?" John asked, keeping his thoughts to himself.
"It happened that I had to go after it." Hope said, rather casually. By her tone alone, the outcome didn't seem to be an unfortunate one. "He killed a few deers and one bear. I got to it one mile away from the residential area. Held it down with Mr. Gilbert, he drugged it and we brought it back."
"Can't you do the same, then?" John asked, straightforwardly. "Drug them all to keep them docile during the full moon."
"You are mistaking it." Hope said, staring into the boy's eyes. "The wolfsbane we used didn't make the wolf docile. It is a poison, used to weaken them. If we administer wolfsbane in them during the full moon, when they are completely wolves, when they are most susceptible to the plant, the night for them will be even more hellish." She paused, sighing. "It was a last resource. Not to mention, there could be a bunch of other problems with that."
"So… chains and bunkers it is." John said, biting off the cheese on his fork.
"It's what we have." Hope said, offering a dry smile.
[Scene Break]
Despite the sun welcoming the world with its presence, the sun rays of light weren't enough to disperse the coldness of winter lingering in every corner of the forests around Mystic Falls.
However, the environmental temperature didn't seem to be a problem for either of the two teenagers walking through the thick forest, their figures covered by the shadows of the trees' crowns and branches.
Crack!
A small branch recently fell from a nearby tree snapped apart when stepped by the young man, the unusual sound acting as a trigger for him to stop on his steps and look behind, his eyes peering through the countless trees around him.
"We are pretty far into the forest." John commented, returning his gaze forward. He stepped forward, approaching Hope, who was a few steps ahead of him. "At least a kilometer away from the school."
"As I said, it's for safety." Hope said, going around a bush that stood in their path. "We are near, only two or three more minutes to go ahead."
"Okay."
And just like Hope said, John found himself staring at their destination, with Alaric by its side.
"Some surprising seeing you here, John." Alaric said, standing beside a small structure of concrete. There wasn't much to say about it, as the structure that was apparently a little smaller than the boy's room only had a door on it. "Not complaining, of course. We will need a new pair of hands."
Hope looked around, seemingly searching for someone. "Where is Mr. Gilbert?" She asked, not spotting the hunter.
"Away, the reason why we need a new pair of hands to help." Alaric looked at the girl. "Earlier, Dorian learned of a new wolf being nearby, at Columbia. Jeremy went there to fetch whoever recently triggered the curse." He turned to John. "Hope already let you know what we are going to do?"
"Basically." John nodded.
"Good." Alaric said, stepping up in front of the metal door of the concrete structure. He took hold of the rusty hand and pulled it, opening the door.
Despite the headmaster standing in front of him, John could say what was being hidden before the door.
It was a staircase, leading downwards into a complete darkness.
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