Author's Note: I know, fast turnaround time on the update, but I couldn't get this out of my mind and I was super excited to see how you as the readers would react once I finished it. A lot of you have been calling for action against the Salvatore brothers, so this should be interesting! ;)

*Warning!: Slightly disturbing and graphic scene ahead! It doesn't contain any of the big issues (abuse, rape, etc.) but for those that are faint of heart, it might be a bit much. There's a twist to it though, so if you can brave it, I would. If it gets to be too much, you can scroll down to the line break. You can gather a bit of information just from that, but the entire chapter is important.
-Something to keep in mind, Amelia is most definitely going to be looking for retribution. However, she's with the Mikaelson's now, and Damon's typical method of rash revenge or Stefan's usual brooding plans aren't going to cut it. I hope you thoroughly enjoy! Please, let me know what you think. I'm excited to see how this will be taken!

Feel free to follow, favorite, review, and what not! I love story feedback and suggestions, but please keep any flames or negativity to yourself! I covet constructive criticism, etc., but I do not accept bullying. Mikaelson's are pretty volatile after all! ;)

Disclaimer: See first chapters. I still don't own TVD. Pouty face here!

~Chapter Three~

Six Days Later
Salvatore Boarding House-

He laid there, stretched across the mattress that cradled their bodies softly, his eyes unblinking as he watched her sleep. From time to time she would squirm or burrow into his side, an incoherent mumble of his name bringing a silly, soft smile to his lips. Her dark chocolate hair fell in long, straight locks to the middle of her back, and the naturally tanned, smooth skin of her bare body stood out against the pristine white of the down comforter. He couldn't keep himself from staring, soaking in his time with her before he had to return to the real world.

"Stefan…"

Being with her, it made the horrible memories go away.

With her warm body nestled against his side, he didn't have to think about anything other than her, just as he had always wanted to. There were no intrusive siblings, there was no constantly rotating list of problems and near-death experiences popping up each day.

"Steefff-an…" The voice called, trailing off in a giggle.

Her heartbeat thudded against her ribcage, sending a faint vibration into his own and filling his senses. It was all he could hear, the comforting thump, thump, thump. It drowned out all logic, all reason. Beating in his ear, against his hand where it rested on her breast as he clutched her to him. It overtook it all, leaving him blissfully unaware of the blood he knew stained his hands.

"Tut, tut Stefanie! Is this what you dream about?" It gave a scandalous gasp, shaming him. "Aren't you a naughty boy!"

If only he could stay there, wrapped up in nothing but sheets with her warm softness resting against him, never to return. They could steal away into the night, leave all their troubles behind-

"Stefan!"

The scream pierced through his consciousness and he found himself springing up from his bed, the room dim with only the faint light of the moon through the balcony doors and windows in the room to light it. Panic and adrenaline coursed rapidly through his veins, but as he blinked the bleariness of sleep away so that he could see more clearly, the reality of his situation began to sink in and the urgency to aid the owner of the scream faded away.

It had been so realistic though, sounded just like her.

The youngest Salvatore heaved a sigh, dragging a hand down over his face before he scratched a bit at the small growth of scruff on his jaw. His green eyes peered through the darkness, making sure that nothing was out of place even though he knew the unlikelihood of such a thing. It was all there and in the exact same spaces he had left it before, though the sight of the large bedroom was beginning to make him feel sick, regardless.

But he was stuck there for the foreseeable future.

He had no one to blame, himself aside, despite his halfheartedly pure intentions. Sure, he could blame Damon for retrieving the witch and persuading the old woman to anchor him to the dwelling on house arrest, but given Stefan's less than favorable personality swings as of late, hopping from Ripper quality to a slightly more humanistic version, it really was his own fault.

The eternal teenager grumbled to himself, shrugging out of the tight shirt that had plastered itself to his skin, soaked through with sweat once the scream of his nightmare had taken hold of him.

"Stefan…"

He froze.

The search for a new shirt remained forgotten as wide green eyes stared back at him in the mirror, an expression of slight disbelief on his features. He didn't move a single inch, the breath in his lungs and the already sluggish beat of his heart diminishing even further as he listened to the noises of the house around him. The silence was so heavy and full, it nearly made his skin crawl, but still he strained to pick up on the breathing or the heartbeat of another, the similar sluggish heart beats of his brother aside.

A quiet, almost childish giggle tittered about the air.

Stefan had blurred to the closed bedroom door without another thought, nearly denting the doorknob as he gripped it and threw the door open.

The light pouring from lamps spaced throughout the hall made him blink, his pupils contracting after being used to peer through the darkness of his bedroom. He had expected to find the culprit there, or at least the faint blur of an escape if they were something other than human, but there was nothing. He looked left, noting a dim light peeking from underneath his brother's bedroom door, then he looked right, but his only company were a few stray dust-bunnies that had managed to escape the maid's attentions. He took a single step into the corridor, leaving the door frame behind cautiously, refusing to breathe in the hopes that he might hear another's, but it was in vain. He let out a sigh of relief, dragging his hand down his face and then back through his hair once more; there was nothing.

Drip…drip…drip…

He paused after turning around to disappear into his bedroom, his eyebrows furrowing as he stared blankly in front of him.

Drip…dripdrip…drip…

Stefan's hands slowly fell from his face, coming to rest loosely at his side. He hesitantly turned his head, green eyes glancing toward the dark wood that made up a wide staircase. They were cast in shadow, just out of the lamp's reach of light. He didn't remember there being a leaky faucet, they would have fixed it immediately, that constant dripping sound would drive any supernatural being crazy.

There was a dim glow coming from the parlor, and he stepped forward in confusion, this time toward the stairs. Usually Damon would secure the fire before retiring, maybe he was still…

"I know your dirty little secret, Stefan."

Without waiting to consider the situation, he sped down the stairs, coming to a blurry stop in the wide hallway just off the parlor. The voice was coy, filled with a sinister amusement that he dared not try to decipher. It sent a chill down his spine, the gleeful cackle seeming to echo around him from all directions, bouncing off the ceiling and soaking through the walls. The darkness permeated his surroundings, the flicker of the flames casting an eerie glow instead of actually providing light to see by. He felt…almost vulnerable; unable to see or scent a threat while his instincts continued screaming out fierce warnings anyway.

Dripdrip…dripdrip…drip…

Another giggle floated down the darkened hall, a shadow slipped by the slim crack of light beneath a swinging door.

The kitchen door gave a quiet, ominous squeak as he gently cracked it open, trying to get a glimpse of what the galley held. The dripping sound reflected off the counters and cabinets, and his eyes flitted across the appliances, counter-tops and furnishings in search of it after taking note that the faucet seemed silent and unused.

Stefan's mouth ran dry when he pinpointed the source.

He wasn't sure quite how he had missed the scent; there was enough that he should have been able to smell it even from his bedroom upstairs. It doused his senses now, flooding through his nostrils, the coppery tang nearly tickling the back of his tongue. He swallowed heavily, his fingers snapping the wooden backing of the counter stool that he had grabbed after lurching forward without giving his legs permission to do so.

It glinted faintly in the light.

The blade was sleek steel, sharpened to a fine point, he knew. It had been left on the wooden chopping block haphazardly, almost like it had been forgotten after being used and set aside. It was shiny, aside from where it was alarmingly stained a seductive crimson color. The liquid trickled down the blade, smudged the handle, and pooled across the tanned wood of the board it rested on before dripping onto the counter-top, spreading out through the tiny cracks and patterns.

Drip…drip…dripdrip…

Ice.

It felt like ice water pulsed sluggishly through his veins now, tremors rippling through his muscles as he stared at the sight before him. That sound, it was the sound of blood dripping from the counter onto the pristine kitchen floor. It pooled there as well, inching its way across the floor.

He shuddered violently, the scent teasing his instincts, calling forth the darkened veins that slithered out from under his lashes and the blood red color that seeped through his eyes. He couldn't look away from the macabre sight; the blood coating his kitchen counter, the carving knife smeared a deep red, the blood-pumping organ sitting innocently there- sliced open, cooling rapidly, a clear chunk ripped out by sharpened teeth.

The shock of it brought him to his knees.

Blood soaked through the fabric of his pajama pants, blooming slowly through the plaid material. It stained his hands in a tantalizingly tempting way, the desire to suck the precious fluid from his fingertips slightly overshadowing the sudden bout of fear that left his breath cycling through his lungs in a quickened rhythm. He blinked away the bluriness in his eyes, trying to settle the raging thoughts – who the hell had been in their house, tearing apart hearts, and where the hell was the owner of said organ?! –when he noticed the blonde strands dipped in the puddle of blood next to him.

"No..." He whispered, voice cracking on the soft sound.

She was sprawled out on the floor, like she had simply been tossed away once she had served her purpose.

Blue-green eyes opened wider than he'd ever seen them, a reflection of pure terror captured there that would last until the end of time, her mouth dropped open in a silent scream that would never be heard. Soft curls fell around her face in a halo of blonde, bloody locks, the pool of viscous liquid growing beneath her body, a consequence of the gaping hole that had been punched straight through her chest.

Stefan choked, feeling nauseous, his hands trembling as he reached out to smooth her hair from her forehead. "Caroline-"

The malicious laughter that followed his grieved whisper was almost physically painful. An icy breeze tickled the back of his neck, making him shudder again while what felt like chilled fingers traced lightly down his spine, frigid lips ghosting beneath his ear.

"Enjoying my present?" It cooed, soft fingers stroking his hair. "Ripper…"

He snarled viciously, jumping to his feet, the blood that stained his pants and hands forgotten. His head whipped from one side to the next, but the kitchen was deserted aside from the body on the floor, and the door to the kitchen remained perfectly still, not at all like someone had run through it. Deranged snickers drifted back through the hallway, and he could hear the scratchy beginnings of a cutesy piano tune coming from the dining room. Darting through the side door in hopes of cutting them off, the rage of his alter-ego fraying at his mental blocks, he stumbled to a stop as soon as he turned the corner, biting back his own cry of horror.

There was so much blood.

So many bodies.

Blood, so much blood.

An appalling squelching noise made him nearly gag as he stepped foot onto the thick rug, warm liquid rising between his toes and staining his feet a pale red color.

But his eyes could not be torn from the sight before him.

They were sickeningly positioned as if they had shown up for a fancy dinner, completely unaware of their fates, and perhaps that was exactly how it had happened. The long table was set with full cutlery, the silver purely immaculate and the crystal sparkling in the glow from the chandelier. He stepped forward, his hand raised in some silent denial, there was nothing he could do after all, it was far too late.

Hair was tangled and matted, skin speckled and dotted with back-splash. Throats had been ripped open or slit wide with yet another knife, necks draped delicately over the shining soup bowls that had been placed precisely to capture the flow of blood. Wounds the size of small fists were punched through backs or chests, bone splintered and muscle torn so that the precious organ within could be harvested. They rested in crystal drinking glasses, arteries transformed into gruesome sipping straws, while a pitcher of blood stood at the corner of the table- as if waiting to be used for refills. Their skin held pale, bluish tints of death, and all of their eyes had been wide with the absolute fear and horror they experienced before their deaths.

The chilling sound of the piano continued to fill the air, making the room spin as he raised his hands to his face and hair, his slow heartbeat hammering against the inside of his chest .

Animal crackers in my soup,
Monkeys and rabbits, loop the loop,
Gosh oh gee, but I have fun!
Swallowing animals one by one…

The voice joined in, disturbingly childlike yet deadly vicious at the same time. An urge to be sick gripped him in the very pit of his stomach, churning and roiling within. His hands shook violently, the tremors rising up his arms and through the core of his body. He was breathing, but little oxygen seemed to make it through to his lungs, colorful spots bursting across his vision.

Matt Donovan, Tyler Lockwood, Alaric Saltzman; throats shredded, eyes staring blankly into one another's from where they sat.

In every bowl of soup I see,
Lions and tigers watching me,
I make 'em jump right through a hoop,
Those animal crackers in my soup!

Bonnie Bennett- her throat slit with special care, the cut clean and precise for the greatest ability to harvest the crimson gold within. Sheriff Forbes and Carol Lockwood; carotid arteries slashed by fangs, punctured deep and angled perfectly to spill into the bowls in front of them.

When I get hold of the big bad wolf,
I just push him under to drown.
Then I bite him in a million bits,
And I gobble him right down!

A thudding noise freed him from his vise of destruction, the sound like something heavy hitting along something solid over and over. Crazed giggles accompanied the noise and he pushed back the sounds of his panicked breathing and that horrible, horrible song as he listened.

Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!

Stairs. They were going upstairs.

"Come, Stefanie!" It beckoned with a psychotic excitement. "It is time we play…"

He straightened from his crouched position, still partially heaving as his eyes swung around wildly. Rushing from the dining room, his blood-soaked feet slid along the hardwood floors, and he cringed at the squeaking sound. His heart dropped to join his stomach when he glimpsed the bloody stains along the floor, like a body being dragged behind something.

It didn't take an idiot to recognize the two missing from the massacre downstairs and, tensions set aside, he knew he couldn't live without either of them.

When they're inside me where it's dark,
I walk around like Noah's Ark…

The voice had become more tangible, leaving behind its spectral quality. Footsteps echoed in the hall above and a door slammed with enough force to shake the glass of the frames he passed. Her laughter was more profound, though still maniacal and wicked sounding. In that heart-stopping moment, he froze on the last step that led back to his bedroom, awareness dawning like a wave of ice and pure fear, far stronger than what he thought was crippling only minutes before.

He knew that laugh, twisted and sinister as it may be.

That voice was one he had listened to as it talked him into dating her sister, promised him that one day he and his brother would truly be alright again, screamed for her very life.

Amelia.

I stuff my tummy like a goop,
With animal crackers in my soup!

"…'Melia!" Stefan shouted, sprinting down the hallway.

She giggled madly in reply.

He made contact with his door, practically ripping it right from the hinges that held it aloft. It splintered, sending chunks of wood and metal across the flooring as the girl who had been terrorizing his home came into view. She was perched on his bed, straddling the body that she dragged casually up the stairs, as if it were an everyday thing. Blood smeared a pathway to his bed, speckled the furniture nearest after hoisting the body up, and soaked through the fluffy comforter he had left after being awoken.

But that wasn't what made him scream.

It was the chocolaty hair, darkened to near black and stained by blood. The silky, smooth tanned skin that contrasted with the white of the down so beautifully- now a sickly yellowed color with the loss of life and smudged with blood. It was the lack of heartbeat in the body she toyed with, a paring knife slicing intricate patterns into the smooth skin, parting it like it was only butter on a hot day.

Elena.

He choked. He heaved. He bent over at the knees and lost all that he had consumed the day before, adding his own mess to the one she had made.

"W-What…" He almost sobbed, pain radiating through his entire being. "Oh, o-oh god what have you done?"

Amelia hummed as she worked, a touch of insanity tainting the happy sound. A short cotton sundress clung to her curves, the once snowy white material long since stained deep reds and soft pinks, heavy with the weight of blood that had soaked clean through. It smeared her skin prettily, making something dark and sinful unfurl deep within his gut as he watched her. Her coppery-coffee colored locks were wild, like she had been running through the wind, and the small knife in her hand glinted in the light she had flicked on upon entrance. She turned her head up curiously at him, cocking it to the side, the picture of an adorable kitten who seemed utterly confused at his questioning.

If it weren't for the blood coating her hands and the malicious mirth that reflected within the silvery pools of her eyes.

"Isn't it perfect?" She asked, her eyes shining with pride, waving her hand at her work. "I did it all by myself!"

Stefan crumpled to the floor when Elena's body became fully visible, the sight something he could not have imagined even in his worst nightmares. Her deep brown eyes were lifeless, wide open and filming over with a sick gray color. Scratches marred her face, cutting from the corner of her eyes down to her chin, and blood leaked from the corner of her mouth and nose. Swirls, strange runes, and a coupling of random cuts were scattered across her once unblemished skin; strokes of the sharp blade Amelia held no doubt responsible.

"Now, she'll never steal from me again." Amelia vowed, her tone dark and damning.

Elena was dead, nearly unrecognizably defiled, her heart no longer beating. His love was dead.

"What have you done!?"

The yell was a roar, shaking the windows and filling the room.

Amelia cackled insanely in response, lifting the knife to continue, even as Stefan lunged for her with his fangs bared. The impact jarred him to the bone, but she rolled with it, kicking her twin sister's lifeless corpse to the floor with a sickening crack. She found herself pinned beneath the Italian vampire, his green irises surrounded by a deep red as his upper lip curled back in a feral snarl, long fangs glistening in the moonlight. She stared up at him with only a smug mirth contorting her features, a smothered giggled echoing around them that was less than sane.

She was…laughing at him.

A rage bloomed in his gut and surged through his body; her ruthless games, the bodies and blood that littered his home, Elena's torturous demise and careless toss aside. It all compounded, manifesting into an anger unlike any he had felt before. His fangs pierced her neck before his mind could catch up, driving deeper than they had when he had killed her. Stefan reveled in her scream, the way it echoed through the room and no doubt the trees beyond.

But something changed.

The blood running across his tongue and pouring down his throat was different than the last time. A wickedly dark feeling, the one he had but a touch of when he had raked his eyes over her bloodied form, rushed to overwhelm him. Her blood was pure sin; velvet seduction he could not understand, nor avoid. A deep moan rumbled within his chest, a hum of satisfaction mewled out from the girl beneath him.

He wanted to stop. He didn't want this.

Elena's dead body rested on the floor beside them, and Stefan found himself providing an unsolicited roll of hips against the hips of the girl who had taken her life; her own sister.

Amelia, Elena…Amelia, Elena…

With the lack in concentration, he suddenly found himself flat on his back, the comforter puffing up around him as he stared upward with eyes that had darkened to near black, his fangs no longer buried in the silky flesh of the girl he had already killed once. Amelia rested atop him, once more straddling a body on his bed, uncaring of her dress that had hiked up her waist- leaving bare, warm thighs to press against the skin of his sides and abdomen. Blood trickled from the holes in her neck, reaching down to pool in the valley of her breasts, and her left hand rested flat against his bare chest, silvery eyes boring into his own.

"Naughty, naughty Stefan…" She chided him, wagging the knife back and forth in front of his nose with her free hand, her eyes glinting playfully. "Santa won't be bringing you any new toys this year now!"

His hands had come to lie on her thighs, smearing the creamy skin that had been left untainted with the blood on his own. He breathed heavily, chest rising and falling under the weight of her slim but curvy body, and he licked the remnants of her precious blood from his lips.

There was something wrong here. Something distinctly…other.

But he hadn't a clue what it could actually be.

"I'm sorry Stefan…" She pouted at him, her full lips curving downward in a frown that looked so out of place on her carefree face.

He didn't believe her. The pure satisfaction glowed in her silver orbs as she peered at him. The heady, lustrous feeling of power one obtained when experiencing the rush of bloodlust and revenge. It glimmered madly in her eyes, making them smile and sparkle even as she pretended to frown.

"I would have been content to destroy that which you held dear, for you to see the truth- that I choose me, even if no one else did."

She was mocking him.

Her eyes were innocently widened, her head tiltined patronizingly, as if she were speaking to a child. Her words flowed and caressed him, even as her tone turned coy and amused, the mask of sincerity she had played dropping to display pure joy as the tables turned.

"But I'm just…so hungry."

He didn't have a chance to react.

Amelia swooped down on him with only a second to pause, sharp fangs tearing through the skin of his neck, nails turning to claws that dug into the flesh above his heart. They ripped through muscle and tendon as he cried out, agonizing pain setting his body on a torturous fire. He could feel the way her fingers curled around his heart, even as she drank her fill, stroking the slow-beating organ almost tenderly before she began to tear it out. A searing burn resonated in his chest, the chilling piano melody drifting up the stairs, and her crazed giggling once more echoed in his ears.

"Sweet dreams, Stef."

His world faded to darkness.

"…the fuck are you doing Stefan?!"

He tumbled from the couch, landing on the floor with a loud thud and a dull shock to his body. His mind whirled frantically, unable to form coherent thought as he gasped for breath, coughing hard enough that his entire body trembled from the force of it. The feeling of drowning took hold, like something was blocking his airway even as he sucked in deep pulls of oxygen. Large hands grappled with him, hoisting his weight with ease until he found his back against the couch once more, a dark and blurry figure crouched in front of him. He dry heaved as he leaned forward, causing the figure to stumble back a step in fear of being puked on.

Animal crackers in my soup,
Monkeys and rabbits loop the loop,
Gosh oh gee, but I have-

"S-song..." He croaked, his voice raspy and raw.

Damon glared down at him, lips twisting in a sneer. "What?"

-tigers watching me,
I make 'em jump right through a hoop-

"Turn it off!" He shuddered violently, pleading with his brother, fighting off the icy fear that surged forward to meet him. "The song, turn it off, please!"

The elder Salvatore looked at him like he was crazy, which he couldn't blame him for considering he was halfway wondering the same exact thing as he sucked in breath after breath, doing his best to slow the unsafe rhythm of his slowed heartbeat. He wiped at his eyes so that he could see better, his knees buckling when he attempted to stand so that he could shut the vile thing off himself, but jerked back when his hand came back stained red.

No. No, please god no.

Stefan's eyes swung wildly as he scrambled to move, blurring toward the first room that he had last seen coated with blood that he could reach. The dining room doors slid open with a bang and he braced himself on the door frame, staring at what was left within.

Nothing.

There was…nothing. No blood, no bodies of everyone he knew, no blood-soaked carpet and dark feast of the crimson liquid.

"Real…" He trailed off softly, shaking his head to try and clear it. "But it was so real!"

"What the hell is going on Stefan?" Damon snapped, blurring to his side.

When they're inside me where it's dark,
I walk around like Noah's Ark…

The record player sailed across the parlor, smacking into the opposite wall from where it had been sitting with a crash as pieces rained down on the floor below. The horrid noise instantly died, cutting off with a squeaking gurgle, and he could have sworn he heard a high-pitched giggle before the entire Boarding House was left in a resounding silence, aside from his panting breaths.

A firm palm suddenly knocked him flat on his ass, he winced at the sting in his chest before meeting icy blue eyes that were filled with confusion, contempt, and anger.

"Explain." Damon spat, fisting his hands at his hips. "Now."

The raven-haired brother gestured to the other, prompting Stefan to glance down at his body for the first time since awakening from the horror of his conscious. Blood coated his chest, dripping down in lazy trails along his stomach and hips, all from five small marks that were rapidly fading above his heart. His hands were stained with it, tinted a faint pink on his palms and spattered up his forearms, caked beneath his fingernails.

"Because little brother," Damon continued snidely, though a note of concern lurked below. "Right now it looks like you've been trying to take the easy way out."

Stefan shook his head in denial, his eyes trailing from his brother to the remains of the record player, then to the shadowed forest that stood beyond the windows, afternoon sunlight glinting off the deep greens.

"Amelia," He whispered, not missing the way Damon stilled in shock. "She's alive…and she's pissed."

Few Things-
*Song Credit: Animal Crackers In My Soup, Shirley Temple
*Review Responses- I promise I will respond to all your amazing reviews in the next chapter, or message you personally. It's just four o'clock in the morning and I'm dying for some sleep, but my mind wouldn't shut up until I got this out! Please don't let this stop you from reviewing, I promise I'll get to you!
*There was a bit of a time jump here, you'll be able to see how it fits into the storyline next chapter! And please don't think I'm crazy for the way the chapter came out! Amelia is to blame! :p