Repercussions of Choices:

Part 1:

Chapter 1

"Choices made, whether bad or good, follow you forever and affect everyone in their path one way or another."

― J.E.B. Spredemann, An Unforgivable Secret

It is dark, the light that's left barely shining through the tree branches, as the blonde haired male walks alone through the trees, his face twisting whenever he steps into the marsh under his foot. He decides after the first several times it happens that although he's never been in a swamp before, having only read about them before now, he's most defiantly not a swamp person.

Considering he lived all his life in a small town that has no swamp, the closest thing to it being near the Waterfall which he only went to once in a while, he's not that surprised that he's reached this decision. He consoles himself by the thought that he won't be spending that much longer in the swamp.

For a minute he thinks about turning around and walking back towards his car. It wouldn't take him that long to get back to it as it is parked only a short distance from where he is standing, on the main road that he had been forced to drive along to get here. It's a tempting thought that almost wins him over, especially when he remembers that he's near The French Quarter of New Orleans and all he would have to go to get back there is drive a little longer down the road.

But he pushes the thought away, as tempting as it is he has no need for it at the moment, he can do that another time, he's here for a reason. And that reason made him enter the Bayou during September in the middle of the night at the age of twenty. No way is he going to turn around and leave it now he is here, he's spent the past few months planning this, had only just worked up the courage to leave his home a few days ago.

He won't turn around and walk away, he won't return home with no answers, not when what he wants is just within his grasp, only a few hours to a day away from him. He's waited too long now to allow his own annoyance at the situation to get in the way.

The blonde won't allow it to get in his way.

After all, he has learnt how to be patient in the last few years since things started to change and his life was ruined in a way he couldn't fix. Not even Bonnie could fix this, not with the spells and curses that had been past down the females of her family for centuries and all the magic in the world she could wield without dying herself.

God, he thought of the Bennett Witch with a small sad smile, how she had tried and tried and tried to find a spell, a curse, a hex, anything that would help him. That would free him. He could still see her pouring over the Grimoires' that had been left in her possession, could remember her face as she cried and begged him to forgive her for doing this to him.

To this day he had found it odd how she had been more upset about the entire thing when he hadn't been when it had been him that would be facing it. Not even Tyler had been that upset. But then again, they hadn't know what it meant. Hadn't thought it through, hadn't believed in it. Perhaps, the male thought, it would have been different if another, an older one, had been around back then to lead them through it instead of them having to, with the help of their friends, piece together the facts from fiction.

There had been another, he backtracked as a memory flickered to life, for a while, he remembered. Mason, Tyler's uncle, had been like them, he had even tried to warn them through small hints that had they realized and listened to they wouldn't have ended up in this situation.

But there had been no Mason around to help them when it started, when they had needed him the most, as his body was buried in a ditch, his head and body no longer linked together by the spine that had once joined them, his heart lying next to him and blood crusted down his chin from where he had coughed it out as the Wolfsbane had been forced down his throat.

Perhaps, the male considered as the walked further into the marsh past even more trees that he had ever wanted to see in his entire life, that was why he was doing this. Besides that he wanted to find out where he belonged, where he had been born, where he would have lived had he been kept by his parents, the people that he would have called family, the life he would have led.

Perhaps he just wanted someone to explain it to him, to explain why he was cursed.

Why everything he touched turned to ash, - something his sister also had in common with him no matter how much she said otherwise. Why his parents' had abandoned him. Why it had to be him that had been cursed, why it couldn't have just been Tyler. Why his adopted family had been who they were, because as much as he loved them dearly, he knew, having learned this along with the patience, that very rarely was something by coincidence.

Especially considering who his sister was. She had become too much of a Doom and Danger Magnet in the recent years for his adoption, even if it was all those years ago before her Doom and Danger Magnet tendencies had been activated, to be by complete accident. It just couldn't be.

He didn't think he was being paranoid in the least to have this view on it.

Everyone else he knew that knew he was adopted which could be, roughly, counted on two to one hands at any given moment, agreed with him if slightly reluctantly on some parts. That, he knew, was quite a number to think that, even if it was smaller than twenty.

Once again he passes a few more trees and gives them a passing scowl as he stops a little while away between more trees, blinks and glances around for a minute before the frown returns. The woman, a Witch he believes considering her distasteful glances towards the Vampires' in the building, although he's never met a Witch with a rocker-chick style of clothing before, at the restaurant/bar had mentioned when he had slyly brought it into the conversation in passing, that the people he were looking for were in the Bayou.

He didn't know if she had picked up on what he was and hadn't cared, simply telling him because she wanted to, or if there had been another reason that she had told him.

The male couldn't help but start to believe the later ever so slightly as he continued to walk deeper into the Bayou. He hadn't seen a person or animal since he had arrived which led onto the only reason that stopped him from completely believing the Witch had lied was that there was no sounds, apart from the ones he was making, coming from the swamp.

There was no birds, no flapping of wings, no crowing or chirping, not even the sound of hooting. No toads or frogs either, he couldn't hear the sound of their 'ribbits' or the sound of their tongues snapping out in order to catch the non-existent insects or beetles. No turtles, no alligators or crocodiles snapping their teeth as they lay in wait for their prey, no bobcats meowing, no snakes slithering on the ground about to bite him for stepping on of of them by accident. He couldn't even hear a bear in the far off distance somewhere.

It was this silence that told him that while the Witch might have lied about it being where the people he was looking for were, it didn't mean she was lying completely. Something was going on in this Bayou, something not normal, something Supernatural. And he, as always, was curious about what it was. A part of him hoped that it was where the people he was looking for were since even if he was curious he didn't want to have spent all this time in a silent Bayou for no reason.

It it worked out that way he would have to pay both the Witch and Bonnie a visit. Bonnie for a pleasant visit that included a favour of a hex. The visit for the other Witch, the male supposed would be far less pleasant than the one to Bonnie. Maybe he'd even do it so the Witch would never know he had even been there in the first place.

The thought was a nice one that calmed down the rising panic that he had only just started to feel. He would be there soon, he told himself as he took another step, just a little longer, only a tiny but more and he would have the answers he needed.

True to his own thoughts it was only a few more minutes before he reached a empty clearing.

Well, he was slightly lying, while no living person was there it wasn't actually empty. There were houses sitting in rows. Houses that he imagined would have once been small but beautiful, standing tall and protecting their inhabitants. But now those houses were burned down, left as ruined and charred houses that still, since he could tell it had been done a few years back, smelt faintly of smoke and fire and blood. But beneath the scent, just barely, he can make out the scent of Werewolf and at the familiar, if faint scent, he lefts a breathe of relief out. The Witch hadn't been lying.

But he can't ignore the smell of smoke, blood and fire and the sight of the burned down houses and he has to stop himself from running to find the Witch and demand that she tell him what happened. Because this isn't normal. Isn't what he was meant to find.

He wasn't meant meant to find a place that tells him a story he would have rather never heard at any point in his life. But a part of him, the part that's left of the teenage boy that found out he was adopted a few years back, that had his entire world shook up, breathes a sigh of relief as a weight lifts off his shoulders. His biological parent's didn't abandon him because they hated him. They must have loved him, wanted to take care of him, give him a life.

He doesn't need to ask anyone if they loved him now, he can see pictures that hand, the words that are written on the ground and walls of the houses in the clearing that's in front of him and he wants to laugh, because now he knows but the answer isn't from them, it is from what they've been forced to leave behind. And what is left behind isn't much.

And what is left behind leaves him numb because the story is a sad one, he's always hated the sad ones, and while it tells him that he survived it also tells him that his parents weren't that lucky. That they died in a house they called their own, possibly even by people or creatures they had once called friends and smiled at and he would have known and called family had they lived.

The blonde feels odd, because he shouldn't know this, shouldn't be able to tell from scent alone the rough outline of what happened, but he does. God he does, and he can't help but wish that he hadn't known. That he had remained in the dark. That he had stayed in Mystic Falls with his family and friends because this isn't what he had wanted to know.

But the other part of him is content to know this, is happy to know this because now he knows who he's dealing with. Knows what kind of place he is in. Knows the difference between New Orleans and Mystic Falls. Now he knows that there's more chance of him dying if he does the wrong thing. Now he knows he'll have to watch his back.

New Orleans, apparently, doesn't take kindly to Werewolves.

The smile that curls his lips isn't a happy one. It's a sad one tinted with another type of feeling that bubbles in his chest refusing to let him go and that he's never been good at ignoring or dealing with in a positive way.

"What are you doing here?" A voice calls out disrupting him from his thoughts as he pushes up from the ground and turns around. In front of him is a woman, her hair is blonde and her eyes are blue. She's staring at him but at the same time frowning.

He sends her a smile he hopes is charming, from her narrowing eyes he suspects it's not that charming enough. "Just passing through," he answers.

"At this time in the night?" Is her dry response.

The male scrambles his brain for a believable answer. He hopes that she's noticed that he's only in his twenties, that will help him a long way. "I was planning on coming to the Bayou earlier on but arrived later than I had planned, but didn't want to let the opportunity get past," he gives a sheepish smile and shrug, "unfortunately I got lost in the Bayou."

The woman doesn't believe him, he can tell that but she doesn't say anymore about it obviously deciding that it was too late to try and get the truth out of him. "Come on then," she finally says, her graze still narrowed at him, "I'll take you to your car."

The male blinks before smiling at her. He could probably get back to the car himself but it would take a good part of the morning to get back. This woman looked like she knew where she was going, he wasn't going to turn down a gift horse. Or look it in the mouth, he couldn't remember which one it was. "Thank you Mrs..."

"Eve," she introduces herself with a small smile, "it's just Eve."

The blonde sends her a smile back in response, "Nick," he introduces himself, "Nick Rivers." He's already looking forward and trying not to fall over so he doesn't notice the slight widening of her eyes or the sharp intake of breathe she takes at his answer.

And that is it. So... what do you think so far?

I know, now exactly like 'Choices of Revenge' but I do have to say that without that story idea I would never gotten this one so I have to send it love.

Perhaps, at some point, I might go back to it and see what I can do, but for now, I think I'll try to focus on 'Repercussions of Choices'.

Thanks to everyone who has read this,

KiariKyoKiba.