Disclaimer: All characters belong to L.J. Smith.
Author's Note: Damon and Stefan are both drawn to Katherine. My version of their death scene.
Time: The Vampire Diaries: Stefan Diaries: Origin and The Awakening (I took a little from both)
Time: Italy 1600s
Genre: Romance, Drama, and Angst
Date: June 13, 2011
Rage filled me as I watched her and Stefan dance the night away. I wanted to killed my little brother.
There he was with my lover.
The one who I was suffering for right in front of me with the wrong person.
The endless nights we spent together clearly met nothing to her. She was so carelessly throwing it away to my brother. My little brother for that matter. The older brother wasn't supposed to lose to the younger brother. It was supposed to be the other way around.
I took a drink from my bottle. Ah, the sweet drink helped ease the pain.
It wasn't the fact that couldn't get a date. In fact, I could have taken any girl in this town. It's the fact I couldn't get her.
She chose him over me!
She was probably drunk when she made the decision.
Or maybe she was trying to make me jealous.
And if that was her intention, it was working.
I threw my bottle down against the floor. It broke into hundreds of little pieces.
Jus like Stefan will in a few short days.
There was only one option after all: I had to kill Stefan.
Or die trying.
The next morning, I woke up slightly hung-over. It wasn't enough to stop me. I had important business to attend too. I dressed and went downstairs.
Emily, her servant, was standing in the entryway. "Sh-she killed herself," the girl said. Her voice was filled with angst. She held out a ring, it was her ring.
I left the girl and went outside. Before I stepped out, I grabbed my sword.
Pain. I was trying not to cry. How I loved her so! She was my world, my very reason for existing.
I wanted to die.
I wanted revenge.
I wanted to kill the last person to see her alive.
Stefan, my little brother.
There he was. He was charging at me with his sword. He stepped in front of me and looked at me then my sword.
I looked at him. "So, this has what it's come to, little brother?"
Stefan looks at my own sword in my hands. "Looks that way." He made a strike at me.
I dodged it easily. "I see." I swung at him.
And we fought.
I felt nothing. Numbness had taken over my body, my soul. I could hear someone yelling, urging us to stop this madness. I couldn't. I would never back down.
I had to avenge her death.
Somehow, he ended with the upper hand. He knocked my legs out from underneath me. I landed flat on my back. Stefan stood over me with his sword raised. He wouldn't have to nerve to do it. To bring to sword down into my heart. He was too weak.
Boy, I was wrong.
I watched with my eyes wide in horror as he brought it down and stabbed me. Just like the bottle, my heart broke into hundreds of pieces.
Dying I reached for my own sword. Stefan, thinking that I was out of the fight, had lowered his guard.
"Little brother," I hissed.
Stefan turned to me. That was his mistake.
I plunged my sword into his chest.
"Surprise," I hissed.
In the end, there was a pile of ashes. It was only ashes and nothing else. Three souls were lost that day to a demonic plaque. They were to roam the earth forever.