SAINT STEFAN THE RIPPER

CHAPTER 1: A WAKE-UP CALL

Damon Salvatore rolled over in bed, having just been awakened by the ringing cell phone on the nightstand. It was only 4:22 a.m., too damn early for anyone to be calling, he thought. Yet there was the phone, ringing and ringing, mocking him. Damon reluctantly reached out from under the black satin bedsheets, picked up the phone, and when he noticed that the caller was Liz Forbes, he answered without hesitation.

"Damon? I'm sorry to bother you so early," Liz apologized, "but it just couldn't wait."

"No apology needed, Liz," a groggy Damon responded. He rubbed at his eyes with his free hand.

She continued. "This morning, a deputy found two bodies in an alley. Both teenage females. We're trying to I.D. them right now," she said.

"Let me guess: two puncture wounds on the neck, drained of blood?" Damon offered with a degree of confidence.

"Not exactly. These girls weren't drained, at least not in the normal sense..." Liz trailed off. Damon detected just a hint of shakiness in her voice. He knew right then that something had to be really off. Liz wasn't the type to be easily spooked.

"Liz, you sound a bit rattled, are you alright?" Damon asked with genuine concern.

"I'm fine," she quickly assured him. "It's just that I've seen a lot of attacks, but never anything like this..." Liz trailed off again. Damon was about to say something to prompt her, when she continued. "These corpses were mutilated, almost beyond recognition. It's like the most vicious animal attack you could imagine, times ten. They were just ripped to shreds. I've never seen anything this gruesome, Damon."

In a flash, Damon sat up in bed. All of the sleepiness had instantly vanished from his body. "Did you say 'ripped?'" Damon asked, hoping that her story would somehow come back completely different from the one he'd just heard.

"That's right," she confirmed. "All torn up, limb from limb. Flesh and organs all over the place. Maybe you should alert the Council?"

Damon paused briefly to think. "Not just yet," he answered. "Better not to freak everybody out until we can at least get a better handle on the situation."

"Alright," she said, "I'll call you as soon as any news comes in."

"Talk to you soon," Damon responded. "Oh and Liz... take care of yourself, alright?"

"Thanks; I will," Liz assured him, and hung up.

Damon put the phone back down on the nightstand and collapsed back into bed, exhaling deeply. "Not good, not good, not good . . ." he muttered to himself quietly, as he considered the situation. He was just about to get up when a very drowsy and sleepy-eyed Elena rolled over to his side of the bed, draped one bare arm over his chest, and rested her head against his shoulder.

Elena yawned. "Not good." Her speech was slurred, due to her state of half-sleep. "It was wonderful."

"Did I wake you?" Damon asked. He stroked Elena's hair lovingly.

"The phone did," Elena replied. "Sheriff Forbes?"

"Did you sleep alright?" Damon asked, dodging the question. He didn't want to burden her with the bad news. Not now. But he knew he would have to do it very soon.

Elena just smiled. "What we did last night hardly counts as sleep, don't you think?" she playfully suggested.

Elena wanted to bask in the moment. After all, it was a special one. She had spent many a night in the old Salvatore boarding house, but last night was the first one that she was able to spend in Damon's bed. Elena's relationship with Damon had always been such a slow burn. But last night was more like a raging inferno. She always had that idle spark of Petrova fire hiding beneath the surface, and Damon knew exactly how to light it up.

It was never her intent to drive a wedge between the two brothers. She certainly never wanted to follow in Katherine's footsteps. Yet here she was, with a Salvatore on each arm. It was not Elena's style to jump from one bed to the next. But when their feelings for each other became undeniable, Elena and Damon decided they had to finally confront Stefan with the truth. And, after a period of depression, Stefan had actually begun to show signs of acceptance.

Poor Stefan. Elena never wanted to hurt him, but she didn't exactly feel sorry for him, either. She had grown tired of his jealousy and subtle manipulation. She finally realized why Stefan had become increasingly clingy and possessive. It was not a matter of love or affection, but rather a means to prevent her from growing closer to Damon. Too late for that! Elena had already surrendered to her true feelings. Moreover, she had given up on all the excuses Damon ever gave her to hate him. She wasn't sure if she was even capable of hate in the first place.

Elena often wondered what it was exactly that kept her and the Salvatores tied so closely together. What Elena had with Stefan was so sweet, and comfortable. But what she found with Damon was like pure electricity. Damon always pushed her buttons, and she pushed right back. He awakened something in her that was otherwise hidden, and she did the same for him. She felt that Damon truly helped her grow as a human being. He made her feel incredible highs. Of course, he was also very capable of doing the complete opposite. That was the downside. That was always the risk.

Stefan was always the safe choice. Elena knew that she and Damon had the potential to literally destroy each other, and the idea absolutely terrified her. Nevertheless, she finally decided it was a risk worth taking. She knew the risk, but she had to know him. Stefan was her boyfriend... but Damon! Damon was her Man.