Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries or any of its characters (the CW does, as does L. J. Smith)

Chapter 5: Found

Previously...

He stared at me for a few moments. His expression was unreadable but I was sure he was deciding whether or not to kill me. There was no reason to keep me alive. I was nothing to him; just a stranger that betrayed what little trust he'd given me. I closed my eyes, awaiting his next move.

Before I even had the chance to open them, I knew he was gone. He'd left me, alive and alone, without even a scratch to commemorate my dishonesty.

Head heavy and eyes wet with tears I didn't know I was crying, I sat down, my back against the tree, and stared at the now cloud-covered moon. I fished my pocket for my phone and pulled it out to find I had a dozen messages and numerous missed calls from Damon. The most recent read:

We've got Elijah. Be careful Evelyn, Klaus is dangerous. You are not safe.

If he only knew...

"I'm coming back. I promise."

"Where are you? I'm coming to get you," he insisted. He was angry–I was sure of it. His tone was too contrived–too low and definitely too soft. He spoke as if his words had been carefully picked, as if he'd been waiting to say them to me. He probably had. I hadn't answered any of his texts or calls, despite the fact he'd tried to get a hold of me all night and all morning. Now that I'd finally answered, he wasn't going to risk losing me again, not before I divulged my whereabouts. Thus, he was attempting to mask his anger with concern, concern I didn't doubt he felt but knew came with irritation, among other things.

"Damon, I promise," I insisted right back, ending the call on my last syllable. I was going back. Just very…slowly. I wanted time to think, to re-evaluate and to maybe cry just a little bit more. Not that I hadn't sat at that tree and cried all night–I had. I'd cried over Klaus, a man I hardly knew but had already betrayed. I'd cried because I didn't even know if I'd acted out of character. I didn't know if lying and deceiving were things I condoned, or if I'd gone against my own moral code. And I'd cried because I'd been an emotionless vampire most of my life, and though I'd been alive for decades I didn't even know who I was or what I stood for.

I'd lived–really lived–for eighteen years. It had taken me those eighteen years to begin to understand myself and the world I was so sure I knew. Everything changed when I transitioned. It was hard, but it wasn't impossible. I could have gotten used to a life featuring vampires and witches and werewolves and ghosts and curses and–and I was getting used to it. I was getting used to it until I turned off my humanity. Until the hours and days and weeks and years were merely tied together by blood and feeding and ripping.

Now that I'd been given back the life I'd barely started–the person I'd barely begun to shape–I didn't know what to do. I'd jumped right back into life without even thinking. I'd gotten myself in the middle of a fight I didn't even understand. With people I didn't even know–dangerous people. I'd been impulsive.

Impulsive.

Maybe I was impulsive. Maybe that was part of who I was. Maybe that was something that I'd always been. I tried to think back to human Evelyn–what had I been like? I knew I'd been good. Or tried to be good. That I'd listened to my parents, that I was scared–scared of my father. I did what he said. I did what my mother said, even when she…when…I did what she said. Always. I obeyed my grandparents, my neighbours, my teachers, Damon.

Tears. The tears were back: fresh and hot.

I'd always obeyed. I'd always done what others had told me to do. Had told me was right. I wasn't even myself as a human, I was what others wanted me to be.

Klaus had said I was pure–that my heart was pure. That I was innocent. He was wrong. I was nothing. Blood had stained my pure heart years ago. I'd torn off too many heads to be innocent. He said I hadn't fallen apart, but I had. That I'd sat in his car trusting him, but I hadn't. Everything that intrigued him was a lie. He didn't kill me because he thought I had some sort of small worth.

But I was worthless.

A car was coming. I could hear the wind fighting its steel body; the tires sliding against the paved road; the music pushing against the windows in an attempt to escape. With a groan, it stopped right beside me, the driver's window disappearing as the man inside stuck his head out.

"Hey sweetheart, you need a ride?" I kept walking. I wasn't scared of a middle-aged man comfortable with hitting on a teenage girl. Though if I was human I'm sure I would have been. I was scared because I hadn't eaten. At all. Since before the Mikaelson's dance. And I could hear his heartbeat, the blood travelling through him like a freight train to feed his body. Feed. I could feel my eyes twitch as they changed colour, the veins rise uncomfortably across my cheeks and my fangs graze my lower lip. "Oh come on now, I won't bite."

I turned toward him, not even attempting to hide my appearance, and sped to the open window. Grabbing his wrist–feeling his rapid pulse beneath my fingertips–I watched fear take hold of his face. The way it made his eyes glaze over in panic and pulled his mouth open in a silent scream. Reining in my intense hunger and sick desire to break that round, scruffy face in half, I quickly compelled him.

"Drive away," I managed, my voice stiff and hoarse. He sat there, unmoving, and stared up at me. "Now!"

He was gone with a screech but my hunger stayed with me. My face pulsed with need–the need for food. For blood. I pulled my cellphone from Elena's jeans, ripping a pocket in the process, and dialed Damon's number with trembling hands. It rang twice.

"Come get me. Please."

I watched the afternoon light cook the pavement from my spot against one of the trees that lined the road. I was right, Damon was mad–for many reasons apparently. Reasons he ensured me he would outline the moment I was in his car. Thankfully, Stefan was completely ignorant of the previous night's events. Damon never told him that I'd interacted with Klaus or Kol, or that I'd been 'missing' for hours on end. As far as he knew, I was still moping around Mystic Falls and–according to Damon–would phone him as soon as I felt like talking. So, being his noble self, he was respecting my boundaries and waiting for my call. Damon, as I'd always known, was not one for respecting boundaries.

When I saw his car rush down the street, however, I couldn't find it in myself to care. I ran to the passenger door before he even came to a complete stop, yanking it open with an audible sigh. I was admiring my saviour's face, which was unsurprisingly distorted with both exasperation and relief, when I was thrown a blood bag. I didn't hesitate. Ripping the plastic with my teeth, I began to slurp its contents, using my hand to squeeze out every ounce. I could faintly hear Damon say something along the lines of 'we need to talk' as the thick liquid slid down my throat, but I didn't stop to answer him. I couldn't. Just as I couldn't stop myself from ripping the empty bag in two the moment I finished.

Damon's widened eyes went from my mouth, iced with blood; to my dripping neck; to my red hands, each holding a mangled piece of thin plastic.

"I think we need to put you on a bunny diet."

My arms fell, hanging limply at my sides, as realization took hunger's place at the center of my mind. This was what I was. A bloody, uncontrollable mess, defined by nothing but an eternally unsated appetite. I'd wanted so badly to find the true Evelyn. Well, I'd found her.

I know its been a while! Thanks for continuing to favourite and follow. I'd love for you to review and let me know your thoughts, opinions and ideas! Hopefully the next chapter will be up much sooner! Xoxo