A/N: I know what you all are thinking; why am I writing another story, if I haven't updated Insanity is Beautiful yet! Well, don't feel too bad, guys, I will probably update next week. For everyone here or near the tri-state area, we have endured the worst of Hurricane Sandy. Some of us were lucky, and others, and by others, I'm including myself, were not so lucky. My power has been off and on for the last day and a half, so I wanted to update this story as soon as possible, before the power leaves again. My prayers go out to anyone who has also been affected by the storm.

This is currently a one-shot. If you're into blood, gore, 19th century London history, and lots of smut, then this fanfic will definitely be for you. This is not for the weak-hearted or easily offended.

Also, I will only continue this if it grabs enough attention, which I hope it does, because I have a lot in store for this potential fanfic. There will be a lot of unanswered questions, but they will remain unanswered unless you all hit that precious blue button at the end that spells review :)

Here's a remainder, my friends: In this fanfic, there are no vampires, no werewolves, no witches, no supernatural, only science….and insanity. Is everyone human? Not everyone…not quite :)

Prepare yourselves. XD

Disclaimer: Don't even think about suing me. I'm dirty poor. No copyright infringement intended.

Chapter 1: Requiem in Pace

Hybrid: An alteration of a being from their original state into a more altered being with minor or severe abnormalities. Casualties may consist of, but are not limited to, abnormal behavior, thoughts, reactions, actions, desires, etc.

Alaric rubbed his hands furiously, trying to contain what little warmth he could within his fingers. Under his breath he cussed himself for misplacing his gloves the other night.

"It is a shame, is it not?" the man beside him gruffed.

"I beg your pardon?" Alaric raised an eyebrow, coming out of his thoughts.

"My daughter, my dear boy…she was young," sighed the man. "Death appears only favor the young these days."

Alaric frowned. "I see. I trust you're taking this tragic turn of events well?"

The old man shrugged. "What can I say? My daughter brought a certain light to my life. Now, it is dimmer. My wife, however, is taking the news much worse. She was our only daughter, you see."

"Ah," Alaric said. He knew the mother was, of course. She was the older woman who was bawling over the fresh grave, which held the corpse of her only daughter. Another older woman held her while she cried, consoling her. Two younger men stood beside them, talking amongst themselves. Their eyes were bloodshot, but it was clear they were trying to compose themselves. "Are those your sons?" Alaric asked, wanting to keep on a conversation.

"The dark-haired one is my son, our eldest," the man sighed. "The other was my daughter's fiancé."

Alaric heart dropped, nearly knocking out the breath in his lungs. "Her..her fiancé?" he stuttered.

"Yes," the man sighed. "She was engaged. She always fancied the idea of having her own family, since ours always seemed to be dying off. We have no other living relatives. No children in our family. My wife always desired having grandchildren." He sighed again. "I suppose there's still hope. After all, my son has been fancying a girl right here in London, fancy that. Perhaps, my daughter did not die in vain, after all." His voice broke at the end as his face became red and tight. Taking a moment to compose himself, he continued. "My deepest apologies, my good man. I fear I must keep a straight face…for the sake of my poor wife."

Alaric frowned again, once again consumed in his thoughts. Damon never told me she was betrothed…

"I want to thank you, my boy. You made her final days the most peaceful," a small, shaky voice spoke.

Breaking out of his trance, Alaric saw that it was the man's wife who spoke; the late girl's mother. "It was my pleasure, mum. If there's anything else I can do, please don't hesitate to send word."

The woman smiled at him, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Oh, I'll be alright," she sighed lowly. "I take much comfort knowing she is in a far better place."

Needless to say, the woman's words stabbed his conscious with much force. He flinched of course; he was always a bad liar. "I…shall keep all of you in my prayers, my dear mum," he gave her a sad smile.

To his relief, the small family dismissed themselves, walking off to their waiting carriages. They left him standing alone, next to the grave. Before letting out his sigh of relief, a voice startled him.

"I wanted to thank you personally, my good sir," a voice said softly, startling him.

Alaric turned to see the blond-haired man beside him. "Ah…you were her betrothed."

The young man nodded. "Yes. Matthew Donovan."

"Ah yes, I've heard of your family," Alaric nodded.

"Miss Gilbert…she was my dearest friend, ever since we were children. It pains me to see that my oldest friend and fiancée was snatched from my grasp by that wretched disease."

Alaric nodded again. "Yes…in fact, I fear that she will not be the last victim. Tuberculosis appears to be strengthening in its numbers, I'm afraid."

Matthew nodded. "I'm just surprised, you see. She had us all convinced that she would endure the illness."

"Don't be too hard on yourself," Alaric consoled at his best. "It has claimed far stronger men than she."

Matthew shook his head, smiling a melancholy smile. "If you had known her, you'd have understood what I meant. Elena is," he paused. "Was…the strongest woman I ever had the pleasure of meeting. Her behavior was not always ladylike," he chuckled, "which explains why she got along with her father far better than her own brother." He sighed, new tears forming in his eyes. "My God, I miss her."

Alaric inwardly groaned. He was not always the comforting type. "As Mrs. Gilbert said, she is in a better place. You will see her, in another life." He hated lying.

"I suppose you are right," Matthew sighed. "I'll take my leave now, then. Good evening, doctor." He walked slowly over to the entrance of the cemetery and boarded his carriage, driving off.

Letting out his long-overdue sigh of relief, Alaric looked around, making sure he was alone. He hated doing this. After all, he was raised by nuns. His conscious constantly fought him every time he did this. But he knew every well, as well as his conscious, that there was nothing he wouldn't do for his best friend, his life-long companion.

Letting out another sigh as he glared at the setting sun, he retrieved his shovel, which he had hid behind one of the older tombstones. Dusk was about fall, and he wanted to get it over with. With another look around to make sure he was alone, he stabbed the moist ground with his shovel.

It was almost an hour until he was finally done. He couldn't have only dug out the ground that lied on top of her coffin. He also had to dig around it, far enough so that he'd able to open the casket door and carry out the body safely, without actually removing the casket itself. This part was, after all, a one-man job.

Throwing aside the casket top, Alaric paused in awe. This girl truly was a beauty. She was dressed in long, elegant green dress, with matching green gloves. Her hair was curled perfectly. Small, white pearls were laid around her neck, illuminating in the moonlight. Her face looked just like he had seen it just several hours ago when she was alive: beautiful and vibrant, despite her current state.

He knew he had to say it, even if she wouldn't actually be listening. "Umm…I know you'll never truly know it, but I truly am sorry for what I've done to you. You put your life in my hands, and I betrayed you. Please," he quietly begged her. "Know that I did this with the best intentions." He paused. "I truly hope you'll survive this."

Gathering himself, he reached down and grabbed her with all his might. She wasn't as heavy as he'd expected; she had lost a good amount of weight over the course of the last few days, due to the illness…the illness he knowingly injected in her body.

Balancing the body as well as he could, he carried her to the nearby carriage that was hidden beside the large shrubs. Two very young men stood beside the horse, tirelessly waiting.

"About time you came!" Kol hissed. "We were beginning to worry about you."

"Please!" Alaric scoffed. "You were only worrying about making it on time to meet your new whores."

Tyler chortled. "Ah, my good man, it's true!" He howled. "We met a pretty bunch, over by Wearington street. A lively bunch, they are!"

Kol and Tyler were young boys, each barely fifteen, but they both hated that stereotypical term, so they both saw each other as young men. They were left to fend for themselves at a young age and lived off the streets and strangers' kindnesses. Alaric saw much of himself in the two lads, so he offered them work as much as he could, hoping that they would one day be lead in a good track. They were rebellious and unpredictable, but loyal to those they cared about. They always saw Alaric as a father figure, but were each too proud to admit to any form of emotional sensibility.

"Is this the latest one?" Kol asked him, looking down at the body in Alaric's arms. "She's a beaut, poor girl."

Alaric nodded. "Yes. Dr. Salvatore asked specifically for her. Needless to say, we best get a move on."

Tyler nodded. "Very well." Glancing at Kol, he breathed, "I'll close up the casket and fix up the grave. You meet me at Wearington's when you're done, right?"

"Right!" Kol laughed.

Alaric rolled his eyes and lightly scoffed as he left the two men and boarded the carriages. Closing the door after him, Kol sat out front and ushered the horses to commence their nightly run with a swift whip of his reins.

Alaric settled back into his seat and sighed heavily, feeling weary from his long day. He hugged the body close to him, stroking the corpse's hair. He felt too scared to set it down, after all, Damon always preferred his bodies fresh and well-treated. Besides, Alaric's conscious ate him alive knowing that the girl was so close to him.

Over the years, he had gotten accustomed to being around dead bodies, which is probably why one would find him talking to them in his office, or even in the morgue. He always treated his patients, alive of dead, with upmost respect, especially those that Damon requested.

He was about to drift off into a most peaceful sleep when the carriage came to its abrupt stop, starling the man.

"We're here!" Kol hissed lowly.

Re-gathering the body, Alaric skillfully boarded off the carriage. He held the tiny body in his arms.

The street wasn't busy, as usual. In fact, that was the reason Damon and Alaric had chosen this street for their experimentation, more specially, this particular building. It was the remains of the orphanage they grew up in. It went to waste shortly after they became of age and were able to leave. They hated the place for multiple reasons, and yet they chose to come back. "Ironic isn't it?" Damon would often say to Alaric. Then again, they weren't in the position to choose a more preferable location.

"You need help carrying her?" Kol asked Alaric, rubbing his hands together for warmth.

Alaric laughed quietly. "I'm afraid her flesh isn't as warm as your whores, my boy."

The younger man laughed at his words. "I'm not as young as you think, you know. I daresay I'm much more intelligent than yourself."

Alaric shook his head. "No, my boy, I shall be fine. Hurry up and meet up with Tyler. I'm not fond of the idea of leaving him alone so long."

"Will do!" Kol cried as he leaped onto the carriage and drove off to the night.

With much care, he walked swiftly into the courtyard and into the old building. The building looked as if it were near demolition, but in reality, it was more stable then it appeared to be.

Alaric walked up the long corridors and grand staircases. Shooing away all the cats that were in his way, he made it to the top floor, which only consisted of a few large rooms. Entering the last one of his right, he sighed heavily.

The room, as usual, was a mess. Beakers, doctor tools, papers, and tables were scattered everywhere, contributing to the dark essence of the room. "Damon!" he cried out. "Where are you?"

No reply.

"Salvatore, I've brought what you've asked for!" He cried out, glancing at the body in his arms.

After no reply, Alaric sighed annoyingly and walked over to the middle of the room to the only large-enough operating table that was still standing. With much care, he lied the corpse on the table, evening out her gown. Taking a step back, he glared over the body once again. His conscious stabbed him again; the poor girl looked as if she were in a peaceful sleep.

"What took you so long?" An amused voice spoke from behind him, startling him. Alaric jumped in shock and looked over his shoulder, only to find his long-lost companion. "My God, Damon! What on earth possessed you to scare me like that?!" He placed a hand over his panicking heart.

The blue-eyed man rolled his eyes. "Forgive me, my friend. I was under the impression that you enjoyed whenever I scare you close to death." He walked over the nearby lamp and turned on the oil lamp with the light matches. "What took you so long? Letting old age get the best of you already?"

Alaric scoffed. "Damon, I'm only five years older than you; get over yourself! Save it for our later years. Where the hell were you?"

"Out…about. I'll remind myself to bring you souvenirs next time," Damon chuckled.

"I brought what you ask," Alaric sighed, lowering his gaze.

The amused expression on Damon's face left upon realizing his words. His gaze moved over to the table a few feet away, where the corpse laid. "It's her," he breathed softly.

Alaric nodded furiously as he sat down on a nearby chair. "Yes, it's her! Who else?" He growled. "Damn it, man! You didn't tell me she was engaged!"

"It was of no importance, Ric," Damon said in a monotone voice as he turned his back to Alaric and walked slowly over to the body, as if in a stupor.

"No importance?!" He scowled. "You made me kill an innocent girl! Look at her, she's barely a woman!"

"I beg to differ," Damon muttered, standing beside the corpse, looking down at her and examining her womanly features. "She's only a few years younger than I."

"She had a life, Damon! She wanted children, a family!" Alaric hissed. "Even if she is revived by your experimentation, there's no way she could ever attain that!"

Damon shot him a look in anger. "You didn't say the same for our other patients!"

Alaric lowered his head, knowing Damon now stood on reasonable ground. "If she makes it," he sighed. "She'll hate us for this. Even if we don't tell her anything, she'll find out eventually."

"You should worry about your own soul. As for me, I have no such thing." He paused. "If we're lucky, maybe she'll turn out like me; incapable of feeling or emotion." Damon pulled out all his equipment and liquids, commencing his procedure.

"You know that's not true," Alaric muttered. He stood up and started out the room, but then paused upon reaching the doorstep. "She won't be human, will she?"

Damon, without looking back at his friend, shook his head. "No…not quite."

"Will she remember?" he asked.

"No," Damon simply shot out. "What's her name?"

"Elena. Her name was Elena Gilbert." Alaric was about to take his leave once again, when Damon called him back in. "Yes Damon?"

Damon now wore his long white coat and his small glasses, ready for the operation. "Thank you, my dear friend," he muttered lowly.

Alaric lowered his gaze. He knew it was not an easy task for Damon to extend his gratitude to anyone, including him. With a small nod and smile, he left the room, retiring for the night. He knew Damon preferred doing these procedures alone.

Damon continued with his elaborate procedure, knowing this would take most of the night. He took out his scalpel and cut open the corpse's dress, split it down the middle, pulling apart her undergarments. He felt himself harden at looking at her most intimate parts. She definitely wasn't like anyone he'd ever seen.

Licking his lips, he brought his scalpel to her lower abdomen and made the first incision, running the small blade across her flesh. Cleaning off some of her blood, he took injected his specially-made concoctions and injected it into her organs, moving as swiftly as possible.

His mind ran rampantly, thinking of all the times his procedures failed at bringing his patients back from the dead into hybrid state, as he called it. All his faith went into this small, beautiful girl, her afterlife in his hands.

After stitching up the incision, he moved on to her upper chest, right over her breast. He moved skillfully under her top ribcage and injected her heart and lungs with the liquid. Closing up again, he made his next move to her temples and the base of her head, injecting them as well.

Pressing the small metal values against her temples and heart, he pulled across his little electricity-producing machine and ran it up to full power. He watched intently as her body shook from the electrical currents. After a few minutes, he turned off the machine and laughed. Mary Shelley and her precious Dr. Frankenstein couldn't have done better themselves.

For a moment, only for a moment, he dared to run his fingers through her soft hair, relishing in her beauty. "Please," he whispered. "Please make it. Come to me."

There was now nothing to do but wait. By morning, if his efforts finally succeeded, she'd rise into her new life, into a new being. Her heart would beat once again, her hybrid blood running through her veins. She'd have no memory of her precious life, but that would keep her memories from fighting to resurface. As long as he would remember to inject her with his liquid, trilyxrin, he called it, every now and then, her memory would subdue.

He was not a patient man, but he'd have to wait. Tomorrow would come in a few hours, and he'd see if his efforts would be rewarded. Fate was never kind to him, but if it worked this time…

He sighed. Leaning over, he kissed to girl's…Elena's…forehead, whispering. "Ut vobis requiem in pace, solum ad resurgere renovator in nostrum inferno."

A/N: I know, a lot of questions running through your heads! The only I can answer them and continue this story is if you all hit that review button! Let me know your thoughts!

Happy Halloween, everyone :)

XOXO Emely