Night World

Damon stared at the gate in front of him. For that past two days he had been trying to get inside of the town called Wormwood, only to be stopped by some unseen force. It was as if he had not been invited into someone's home and he couldn't, for the life of him, figure out why. He wanted to get to the woman inside for she reminded him of Katherine, for some reason. If he couldn't be with Katherine for all of eternity, he'd be with that woman. As soon as she came outside.

The young vampire's ears perked up as he heard her voice coming from the other side. “I do not know, Anna. Father has not talked to me about it since the day it happened,” was her reply as Anna asked her about the hunter from the attack. “All I know is that your mother and the Hale's mother was able to save him. Though he does not seem to recall who it was that attacked him.”

“He must have been compelled,” Anna stated, bending down next to Charlotte who looked up at her with a confused look on her face.

“Compelled,” she asked, dipping her bucket into the cool water of the creek.

“It is something that the vampires can do with their minds,” she explained, an exasperated look on her face. “Has your father told you nothing?”

Charlotte puffed out her chest, furrowing her brow, “He is protecting me,” she mocked in a deep voice.

“I think your voice needs to drop a few octaves before you get it right.” Charlotte and Anna jumped, spilling the water they had collected as they turned around.

“Father, we just,” she motioned between her and Anna, “I was just-”

“My mother's expecting me.” Anna bowed her head quickly as she stood up, walking as fast as her short legs would carry her. Charlotte cursed her for leaving her alone, at the same time wishing she could think of an excuse to leave. But this is where she was supposed to be, collecting water.

“It is alright, Charlotte. I was your age once and I, too, mocked my father.” He looked down at her, a look in his eyes Charlotte had never seen before. “We mock the ones that try to protect us the most. We would like to think that we need no one, that we are invincible.”

“I never said I was invincible. You make it clear to tell me so everyday.” Charlotte turned back to the creek as she picked her fallen bucket up. She was nothing like her father, she hated it when he tried to compare the two of them.

“Charlotte,” he sighed before a scream echoed off of the Gate walls. Henry quickly jumped into action, running up the side of the water to see what had happened.

Charlotte continued to sit, her bucket in the water, as her eyes followed the Mayor consoling a woman on the ground. Perhaps she fainted, she thought turning back to her bucket. She noticed the color change as the water washed over her hands that went in to retrieve the full container. Her heart slowly began to beat faster as she followed the trail of red. The closer it got to the entrance in the wall the darker it got.

They were officially back.

Crimson Creek was given it's name soon after the Older Generation first settled in Wormwood. The creatures of the night became frustrated after they realized they could not enter the Town. In retaliation they would wound someone and spill their blood into the water, hoping to scare the citizens into a frenzy. These creatures were later found out to be called Vampires.

Mayor Henry Wormwood went directly to the witch's houses after the first incident and questioned them on everything they knew of these demons. He learned of their strengths—speed, immortality, the power to heal—and of the weaknesses—sunlight, vervaine, stake through the heart. The one thing that scared the Mayor most was their need to feed on blood; human blood. After his talk with the two witch families he repeated his new found knowledge to the rest of the Town. He then gathered a group of men, sending them into the forest during the day in search of the plant the witches mentioned. Not even half of them came back; this was when they decided to rename the forest that surrounded them the Forbidden Forest.

But with those few men came buckets of vervain. The witches made jewelry with the plant inserted inside and gave a piece to every single villager. When a child was born another piece was made and placed on it. Thus, broke them free of the demon's compulsion. The Mayor had then tainted everything consumable with the plant. In turn, this tainted their blood. The demon's couldn't drink from them.

This angered them even more. So instead of killing them for a meal, they would kill just because they could and taunted the Town with the decease's bodies and blood. This continued until six months ago. It all ended so abruptly. No one in the Town was complaining of this fact, just confused most, worried the rest.

But now it had started again. In the past four days since the first recurrence blood has flowed in Crimson Creek sixteen times. It happened in six hour intervals, at the exact same time. Always on schedule. The Mayor insists the Vampires want something. But what is it that they want, thought Charlotte.

Oranges and purples slowly began to overtake the sky as the sun began it's descent of the earth. Charlotte watched from one of the windows in the built in library as the celestial body turned a dark golden shade, dancing with a darkening cloud. She had always preferred sunset to sunrise. It was an indefeasible end, the previous day to never happen again. She longed for the future and hated looking into the past. There was nothing to do to go back, so why dwell inside of it, she often thought.

She looked down to the book in her hands, fingertips running over the cover as she let out a longing sigh, What lay behind those walls? Was it really as bad as everyone makes it seem? Maybe, she thought, standing, maybe the reason my brother was never heard of again was because he found a better life away from this all.

She placed the book back in it's spot before leaning against one of the shelves in the darkening room. Charlotte couldn't leave Wormwood. No doubt she didn't want to, it just was not plausible. Too many people depended on her. I would just have to stop whining and realize my place is here, she straightened herself up with a determined look on her face. My place is here.

A soft knocked resonated through the large room before Harriett opened the door, “Your mother wishes to speak with you, Miss. Wormwood.”

“Do you know what of,” Charlotte asked, smoothing out her day dress as she walked closer to Harriett.

“She did not say, Miss.” Harriett nodded, “She is in the kitchen,” she told her before leaving the library.

Charlotte looked out the window at the fading sun once more before leaving the library in search for her mother. The house was quiet as she walked through it. Everything was done for the day—dinner made, children bathed—so all the servants, save for Harriett, had went back to the quarters and everyone else was finishing dressing for bed. The sun was almost completely down. No one ever stayed out past night fall.

Amelia sat on a stool at the counter, arranging a vase of flowers when Charlotte found her. She motioned for her to take the seat next to her, not taking her eyes off of the bouquet. “Harriett said you wanted to speak,” Charlotte said after a few moments of silence.

“Your birthday is tomorrow.” Amelia smiled, determined not to take her attention away from what was in front of her. “It is not everyday that a woman turns twenty-one-”

“Mother,” Charlotte interrupted her, “what is on your mind?” She took her mother's hands in her's, bringing them to rest in her lap.

“Something happened the last time your father went into the City,” she said vaguely, still not looking at her daughter. “A man approached him about a betrothal.”

“Lou-Annd is a little young to be thinking about marriage, is she not,” Charlotte laughed, shaking her mother's hands. She thought that her mother had wanted to laugh with her for she believed, just as much as Charlotte, that marriage was something two people needed to decide on their own. But Amelia didn't laugh. “Mother,” Then it hit her, her smiling falling. “It wasn't for Lou-Anne, was it,” she asked, biting her lower lip.

“Charlotte,” Amelia sighed, closing her eyes.

Charlotte jumped up, snatching her hands away from her mother's, “You have said to me ever since I was a little girl that marriage is something not to be entered into lightly. That I would always have a choice on whether or not I married because you saw what it did to Aunt Lydia,” she said in a calm voice. “You swore to never make me marry, you swore to never make me marry,” she repeated as the new information slowly began to seep in. “You swore on it,” she yelled, tears starting their stinging sensation.

“Charlotte, please,” Amelia said, standing up in front of her daughter.

“You lied to me,” Charlotte choked. She couldn't breathe. She needed air.

“Your father thinks-” she stared.

Charlotte scoffed, interrupting her, “My father. You want to know something about my father,” she spat, “he can go to hell.” She turned on her heel, walking out of the kitchen door, into the darkness of the night.

Wormwood was completely silent except for the sounds of crickets chirping and the patter of running footsteps. Charlotte didn't know where she was running to, all she knew was that it felt good. If she stopped she would surely suffocate and die. Dying was not an option for her.

She skidded to a halt, barely stopping in front of the Barrier. The only reason she was willing to stay was for her family. She thought that they needed her but she obviously wrong. Was she willing to leave now? Cross over the Boundary and never look back? Her breathing slowly started to get heavier as she leaned against the brick wall. Hands met tears as she covered her face, sliding down to the ground, silent sobs wracking her body.

When Charlotte was a small child of eight her Aunt Lydia came to visit the Wormwood's and their Town. The last time that Aunt Lydia had been to see them had been three years prior. She was exuberant, she exuded happiness and kindness—much like her eight years older sister. But, then, on her last visit, she had become so sullen. Amelia knew it had to do with her betrothed, though, prove it, she could not. She had her theories, none of which she ever confronted her younger sister about. If she had it would have been overstepping, Amelia never overstepped. So she let her sister suffer in silence at the hands of her husband.

She could do nothing for Lydia, but she could do something for children. She had sworn to Charlotte, and to Charlotte's sisters, that if they did not want to marry that she would not force them. She would never tell them that they had to marry or pick their husbands. Marriage was love, love was something you could not choose. And from that moment, Charlotte swore that she would never marry. She witnessed what it had done to her Aunt. She saw everyday how her father treated her mother. That was not something she would ever want.

The tears had subsided after a few long moments, her throat soar and her body spent. She made her move to get up, but something outside of the Gate caught her eye stopping her. It was a man, not much older then herself, clad in brown trousers and a dirty, white untucked shirt. His dark brown hair in disarray, slightly curling at the ends. Through the darkness she could still see his eyes, an unusually bright shade of blue. I could look into those eyes forever, she thought, a smile smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

She was even more beautiful with the short distance in between them, even though she had been crying, leaving her face puffy and blotched red. Her red hair flowed down her shoulders like a waterfall flowing over a cliff causing her soft blue eyes to shine with the help of the stars and moon. Damon wanted—no, needed—her right in that moment. I will have her, he thought taking one step closer.

Charlotte was taken back when he took a step; she had started to think that he was a mirage, and now her mirage was moving. She breathed out slowly, bracing herself on the brick wall as she slowly moved closer to the exit. If I was ever going to leave, why not now, she thought as her foot crossed the Boundary.

A rush of adrenaline rushed through her as she closed her eyes. Her entire world felt different. It was as if she entered a parallel existence where she could hear everything, feel everything. The wind that gently blew across her skin leaving goosepimples felt different. The hooting of the owl in the far distance sounded different, it had not been there before.

I will not have to wait forever, Damon thought as she moved her foot outside of the boundary that kept him out. He watched as the woman whose name he had learned was Charlotte shut her eyes, relishing in what it was she feeling. It was as if she had never felt the cool breeze before. He felt like he could watch her all night.

Charlotte opened her eyes, the man still standing in the spot she had left him in. Everything looked clearer, too. Like a veil was lifted from her eyes. Everything was so much brighter. She smiled again, moving her other foot outside of the Boundary. A hand fell on her shoulder pulling her back inside the Town, whipping her around to face them.

“Let go of me,” she yelled at her father.

He took her by her shoulders, shaking her, “What do you think you were doing,” he yelled. Charlotte only turned her head away from him, tears prickling her eyes again. “You may ignore me, but you are coming home.” He let go of her shoulders, grabbing her hand before continuing, “It is dangerous out here, Charlotte.” Henry looked around as if something was going to jump out at him as he hurriedly started the walk back to the Manor. Charlotte turned back to look at the man one more time, but he was gone.

There were so many questions floating through Charlotte's head, they needed to answered. She had not planned on talking to her father, she just had no choice. “Have you been following me,” she asked abruptly taking her father by surprise.

“Yes,” Charlotte stopped suddenly, pulling her hand away from Henry's. She had just thought she was being paranoid. She never thought he would actually follow her around. “Charlotte,” he started, turning around to face her, “whether you want to believe it or not, we are exactly the same.” He stopped her before she could interject. “You are just are curious and careless as I am. And just as damn stubborn,” he chuckled, giving her a small smile. She turned her head away from him, he could not make this right with a smile. “I don't want you to get hurt, darling. I know you have been thinking about life outside of these walls. Do you not think I have?” She gave him a skeptical look, rolling her eyes. “Can you just listen to me, please? It is dangerous out there. More then you know. Do you think Vampires are the worst demons?”

“How would I know, father,” she started to yell, but caught herself. It was too late to be yelling in the Town Square. “You tell me nothing. I never knew of compulsion before Anna told me. We need to know all the strengths Vampires have. Not just the ones you find necessary to tell us.”

“Is that what you want, for me to tell you everything I know?”

“It would be a start,” she deadpanned, glaring at him. “Can I ask you whatever you want, and have your word you will not lie to me?” He nodded his head “If you wish for me to not be hurt why are you making me leave and get married?” For Charlotte the silence that fell in between them said everything. And it hurt. “You want to be rid of me. This is why you accepted the proposal.”

“No, Charlotte, not to get rid of you,” he replied, making it sound like his answer was the most blatantly obvious thing in the world. “I'm doing it to protect you.” Henry sounded and looked hurt when she didn't figure it out. “Why can you not see that everything I do is to protect you, to protect us. If you stay here you will only end up dead.”