Why was it he found the crazies? Malia was sure of herself. She was in control. Kenzi freaked out. Jefferson was born freaked out, he was pretty sure. And now, Marie. Sweet, innocent, mutated Marie. One thing clicked into place, though. The reaction from their 'connection.' A woman who couldn't touch a soul finally achieving a gratification of sorts, one with no consequences and no comatose men. Or, dead bodies if she did indeed suck the life out of people.
He breathed in, then out.
"I'm a vampire. I died over a hundred years ago. My father shot my brother and I because we tried to save a woman we loved, who was also a vampire and who'd played the both of us. We were born in Mystic Falls, Virginia. We're ninety percent sure none of this is real, or this is what a witch back home might call a prison world. It's a parallel reality created to house whatever. The last one I was stuck in took place in the year 1994. My friend, Bonnie and I were there alone until we discovered a third person named Kai. I'm overwhelmingly unstoppably in love with a girl named Elena Gilbert who, until I got here, resided inside a coffin. Comatose, courtesy of Kai. A present he left Bonnie and me as revenge. I don't live here. I didn't grow up here. You live with a hundred people, I like with three." He held his hand up, illustrating each with a finger. "Human Damon. Vampire Damon. Damon Salvatore, upstanding back room bookie married to that girl my brother and I died for." He didn't mean to get upset over the last part, but he'd spent the last few weeks exasperated. "We know we're not crazy. I think, of everyone here, one guy is actually crazy. Everyone else spends two weeks being told they live here before their real lives bombard their senses. And then we're left to pick up the pieces and not talk about any of it."
It was a long diatribe, as evidenced by his heavy breathing after. In a way, it felt good to let it out. It was different with Jaiying. It didn't count. Not in their sessions. Marie was a mutant. Damon was a vampire. And unlike Malia, Marie was an adult. Maybe that was why he gravitated toward her honestly more than Malia.
"Not that it's a badge of honor, but I've been tortured to. I've also done the torturing, so on behalf of torturers everywhere." He sort of meant it, tacking on a, "Sorry."
no subject
He breathed in, then out.
"I'm a vampire. I died over a hundred years ago. My father shot my brother and I because we tried to save a woman we loved, who was also a vampire and who'd played the both of us. We were born in Mystic Falls, Virginia. We're ninety percent sure none of this is real, or this is what a witch back home might call a prison world. It's a parallel reality created to house whatever. The last one I was stuck in took place in the year 1994. My friend, Bonnie and I were there alone until we discovered a third person named Kai. I'm overwhelmingly unstoppably in love with a girl named Elena Gilbert who, until I got here, resided inside a coffin. Comatose, courtesy of Kai. A present he left Bonnie and me as revenge. I don't live here. I didn't grow up here. You live with a hundred people, I like with three." He held his hand up, illustrating each with a finger. "Human Damon. Vampire Damon. Damon Salvatore, upstanding back room bookie married to that girl my brother and I died for." He didn't mean to get upset over the last part, but he'd spent the last few weeks exasperated. "We know we're not crazy. I think, of everyone here, one guy is actually crazy. Everyone else spends two weeks being told they live here before their real lives bombard their senses. And then we're left to pick up the pieces and not talk about any of it."
It was a long diatribe, as evidenced by his heavy breathing after. In a way, it felt good to let it out. It was different with Jaiying. It didn't count. Not in their sessions. Marie was a mutant. Damon was a vampire. And unlike Malia, Marie was an adult. Maybe that was why he gravitated toward her honestly more than Malia.
"Not that it's a badge of honor, but I've been tortured to. I've also done the torturing, so on behalf of torturers everywhere." He sort of meant it, tacking on a, "Sorry."