[*M Chapter Fifty-Five*]

Warning: slight torture, blood and gore (and unedited).Are you ready?!! It's the chapter we have all been waiting for—the showdown between Darcella and Isobel and maybe a few extra playmates thrown into the mix.

*-*-*-*

Buckle up your seatbelts and strap yourselves in tight.

Darcella cordially welcomes you to the main event.

But first, we're gonna play a game of catch me if you can!

Tick tock, the clocks ticking!

*•*•*•*

Thirty minutes before she struck...

John Gilbert turned up at Isobel's residence after receiving a call from the female vampire. Parking his car beside hers, he entered the house when Cherie had granted him access, noticing the suitcases in the entry as he walked into the parlour.

"I see you're packing. That's a good sign."

Isobel sat on the couch, staring out of the large glazed doors, facing the back garden. She smirked and stood up. "It won't be long now."

"Did you get the missing piece? Where is it?"

"I don't have it yet," she scowled irritably.

John frowned. "Then, why did you call me here?"

She motioned him to follow her into the dining room. "Because I have the next best thing."

Curious, John followed and entered the room. He falters, stopping in his tracks in the doorway, not wanting to believe what he was witnessing.

Sat in a chair at the dining table was a brown-haired boy. He sucks in a ragged breath, for even though the boy's head was bowed and couldn't see his face, his conscience already knew who it was. Yet, another part of him begged it wasn't real.

Bracing himself, his eyes flit anxiously over to Cherie and Frank standing on either side of the boy as he took slow, cautious steps across the room, pausing when he was before them. Jonh's shaking hands find themselves under the boy's chin and tilting upwards.

He gasps, staring at Jeremy's unconscious face, gaze darting from his closed eyes to the bloody gash on his forehead, the bounds securing his hands and feet to the chair, and then finally resting on the gag strapped to his chapped mouth.

John swallows thickly, shifting his hands and placing two fingers against Jeremy's neck, checking for a pulse. A rush of breath expels upon feeling the slow, steady heartbeat.

They are all dead. It's inevitable at this point.

Gently lowering Jeremy's head, he whips around to Isobel, who had remained watching the scene in the doorway. "What the hell have you done?" he demands.

Isobel grinned, satisfied with his expression. "Getting what I want."

"Yeah, but he is my nephew, and you're going to let him go right this second!" John exclaimed.

"That gaudy ring on your finger comes off," she berated.

"Come on, Isobel. I know you, okay? It's me, John. You can't hurt a kid," he said, urging her to listen to him. "You're lucky he's alive."

"I was rather impressed. The kid put up a good fight. I'll give him that," Isobel stared into John' eyes and chuckled. "However, if I don't get the invention, I'll kill him to prove you wrong."

She wouldn't? Not a kid, surely? Not his Nephew. But he already knew; the dark promise in her gaze.

He stared at Isobel in astonishment, his thoughts veering to this morning's altercation with Darcy. Her words caused him to squeeze his eyes tight and tug on the little hair that resided on his head. She warned him. How foolish was he to not deem her words? Why didn't he believe her? He should have listened, and all this could have been avoided. Except he didn't, and here Jeremy sat — unconscious, bound, gagged and wounded. He fears none of them will come out of this unscathed.

And, oh, how accurate he was. None of them would. Their fates were sealed the moment Frank had taken Jeremy. Unharmed or not.

John opened his mouth to retort but ceased when a smash suddenly sounded from the parlour room, pursued by several more crashes coming from the back of the house. From where they gathered, they were situated at the front of the house. A hallway then separated the two rooms, splitting off in two directions. To the left were the stairs and the entrance to the kitchen. To the right was the front door.

Isobel ordered Frank and Cherie to check what had happened. He exchanged a glance with the female vampire when several more crashes and an angry growl reverberated, vibrating the walls, eliciting Isobel to speed from the room, also motivating John to investigate.

The glass fragments on the tiled flooring captured his attention upon stepping into the parlour room. He lifted his gaze to the floor-length windows overlooking the front garden and noticed they were smashed; jagged shards and spiderweb cracks slithered in the glass. John went to take a step forward when he heard a metal contraption go off behind him. Familiar with the whizzing sound, he dived out of the way, earning a wild howl when an arrow embedded into Frank' stomach.

John stared in disbelief as Isobel attempted to pull the warped arrowhead from Frank's stomach but couldn't because whenever she touched it, she'd wrench her hands away, hissing upon contact.

"What the hell is this? Vervain!" Isobel demanded over Frank's pains of agony, peering down at her blistered hands. Her head snapped up, readying to open her mouth to speak again but stopped when something at the back of the room caught her attention.

"No!" she growled.

From where John was still rooted in the doorway of the parlour, he could see the female playmate splayed on the ground. He can recognise a dead vampire when he sees one; many have transpired at his hands. Their skin turns grey, and black veins merge underneath the skin. Their last facial expressions freeze them as something gruesome — in this particular case, protruded eyes and gaping mouth.

Four methods can kill a vampire; rip out their heart, burn: either by sunlight or fire, decapitation, or the wooden stake impaled through Cherie's heart.

But how was that possible? How did they get in?

"Did you see where they came from or who it was?" he questioned Frank, as he marvelled in muscled vampire finally succeeded in ripping out the arrowhead and tossing it on the floor.

Frank's face turned an angry shade of red, his chest heaving with pent up frustration. "There's more than one. One came at me, and the other at Cherie," he growled.

"Whoever it is left a note," Isobel gritted out, ripping off the sheet of paper that was punctured onto the stake.

"What does it say?" John dared to ask, creeping closer, his heart hammering against his ribcage.

"One down, three to go."

John swallowed and jumped when another smash erupted from the dining room. The windows shatter before a second arrow shoots in, whizzing above Jeremy's unconscious form and piercing the eye of a painted woman fixed to the wall.

Isobel shot into the room, an enraged scream spilling past her lips when another shot after her, puncturing into her back. She choked, falling to her knees, dry sobs tearing from her throat. She can feel the burn surging beneath her skin, the vervain spreading into her bloodstream. Dropping onto her stomach, she desperately sought to grip the arrowhead to yank it out. Yet, her actions were powerless, finding the lethal device also fused with the herb.

"Get. It. Out! Get-it-out! It hurts! Help me, John!" she howled.

Hearing her agonising wails, John couldn't help but find pity within him, running over and yanking out the arrow. Dropping the tool at his feet, he assisted her in sitting up, only to be pushed on his rear after Isobel knocked him down, pouncing to her feet and darting angrily around the house in search of the fugitive. Frank proceeded after her.

"Who's responsible for this? When I get my hands on them, they're going to wish they were dead!"

"Can't you pick up on a heartbeat? Distinguish if they are human or vampire?" John said hoarsely.

A hush descended before a startling bang echoed, followed by furious bellows, detonated upstairs. Isobel chased after to investigate, only to reach the upper passageway and a heavy force barrelling into her, Frank's body knocking her down the stairs, both landing in a heap at John's feet.

'So it's a vampire?' John thought. A human wouldn't sustain such strength.

He watched Isobel and Frank pounce to their feet. They soared off in different directions, and he too made a run for it, realising he had nothing to protect himself with — that, and he thought he wouldn't need protection, thinking with Isobel being the birth mother of his daughter, she wouldn't harm him — clearly, he's a fool. He could run back for the arrows or the stake in Cherie' torso, but if it's another vampire at play, he fears he wouldn't reach on time.

Isobel sped into the kitchen and halted in her tracks in the centre of the room, gaping at the open-wide kitchen door leading to the property's backyard. How? That's not possible. The door was locked, and the keys were in the dining— zipping back to the room. She skidded to a halt again upon noticing Jeremy was no longer seated at the dining table, and the bounds and gag lay in a pile on the floor.

"No! He's gone. They've taken the kid!" she screeched, picking up a porcelain plate and hurling it onto the floor.

During their haste to flee and the three scrambling around like headless chickens, they failed to notice they had left Jeremy open for the taking.

John froze, his feet skidding to a halt and tripping over Cherie's body in the entryway. Jumping back to his feet, he ran back to the dining room, his breath rushing out in rapid pants. He staggered to a stop, staring at the now empty seat Jeremy had previously resided. Glancing around his surroundings, he felt the atmosphere dissolve into an ominous silence - as if they were waiting and biding their time for their climax entrance.

Whoever it was behind the games was intelligent, using the ability to turn their minds against them and manipulate them.

"The keys! Someone took them," Isobel clamoured, checking the display unit where she had previously left them, only to materialise empty-handed. She screamed, knocking down the ornaments and knick-knacks in her anger.

John frowned. "Who else has been here that would have taken them?"

Flinging her bag aside, the female vampire tugged on her hair anxiously as she attempted to conjure up who would take them. Frank and Cherie stayed indoors unless she had them run an errand. They wouldn't need a key because Isobel would be there. And the same for her. If she were out, the two would be at the house. The only other people who had entered the property were John and—

"Damon bloody Salvatore!"

"Damon?—"

A clapping noise sounded from somewhere within the house, sending cold shivers down John's spine.

"Ding dong, we have a winner!" a voice taunted mysteriously into the air before evaporating with a cackle and the thudding of boots scampering across the tiled flooring.

Just as Isobel was about to exit the room and give chase when something on the wall caught her attention, pinned with a sleek black dagger, was another note.

Snatching up the dagger, Isobel hissed, dropping it to the floor as more burns scorched her hand. With her unharmed hand, she hastily read aloud over the scribbled letters.

Let's play a game; tag you're it!

But first, you've got to find me.

I'll give you a clue; "How to kill a vampire 101".

Tick tock, the clocks ticking!

"Frank, it's the hunter. Find her and kill her!"

Hunter? Her? This can't be her doing.

John hurried back into the parlour and glanced out of the front window. He let out a string of anxious curses. Sat underneath the dull glow of the street lights were two additional cars parked behind his and Isobel'. An all too familiar black-tinted Range Rover and peeking behind, he could make out a shimmering blue car.

If possible, John' heart kicked up its pace, threatening to lodge in his throat. He briefly wondered if she would spare him before the thought was washed away when he felt a cold draft whip past his back. Spinning around, John caught a glimpse of the black blur before it barrelled into him and struck him off his feet. As his head collided with the floor, he saw the blur speed further into the house, agonising screams erupting from Isobel as they went.

"Ahhh!... Stop shooting!... Ahhh! Just wait, you little bitch I'm going to tear out your throat...Ahhh!"

"Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five— come and find me, Issy, come play with me. You know you want to. However, there's a trick. You've got to find me before I reach to 1," a sickly sweet sung from the walls of the house, towards the back of the house.

John had just gotten to his feet when abruptly the lights switched off, dousing the house into darkness. His hands turned clammy, harsh breaths expelling from his lungs, unable to make much out in the gloom, except for one or two black shapes lurking in the shadows and the exchanged grunts sounding through the lower flooring of the property.

All sanity lost him as he thought he could make a run for it and forgot that vampires had enhanced eyesight and hearing, as well as their speed.

The eldest Gilbert member ran towards the front entry, hoping to grasp the front door and flee. He jerked on the handle only to find the door locked before his body was picked up and launched back into the parlour room, letting out a pained yell when he hurtled into a wall and slumped to the floor with a groan. The mirror hanging above him dropped, the glass shattering atop of him, several shards piercing into his hands and face as he attempted to cover himself.

"Frank! Get her! Whatever you do, make sure you kill her!" Isobel snarled when another black mass jumped out in the hallway and stabbed her in the stomach with a wooden stake. Several crashes proceeded as the pair erupted in a tussle, knocking the furniture over as they vaulted into them.

John had just crawled to his knees when the air wooshed out his lungs, the force of the kick to his chest sent his head smacking onto the tiled floor for a second time that evening, and a cold hand yanked the ring off his hand.

"Four."

"Don't need that now, do we?" a masculine voice taunted into his ear.

John was then hauled up onto his feet and dragged across the room. The person clutching him laughed when they purposely bumped him into the staggered furniture strewn around the room and a door for their further amusement. "Oops, sorry, Johnny boy, didn't see that there," and then being flung onto what felt like a wooden hard-back chair. He winched, feeling something bulky and rough thread tightly around his wrists and feet. He tried fighting, but the several blows to his head stunned him, rendering him feeble against the vampire's strength.

"Let me go, please," he protested weakly against their grasp.

A deep chuckle and a mocking slap to his cheek came as his reply. "No can do. What the Princess ordered, she shall get."

"She wouldn't– Darcella wouldn't," he continued to plead.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, town's favourite son. This is just the beginning. Sit back and enjoy the show. I know I will," Damon replied as he exited the room, leaving John with his counterpart and bound to the chair.

"Three – you know, for a vampire, Issy, you're awfully slow," her sickly sweet voice sang.

"Just you wait! When I get my hands on you, I'm going to drain you of every ounce of your blood!" Isobel screamed back in retaliation.

"Ooh, threatening me with a good time, such a turn on. Come sink your teeth into me, Issy!"

"Frank, where the hell are you? Why isn't she dead yet!" Isobel dived out of the way when an explosion rattled the foundation, dousing the air with an aroma of smoke and gunfire. "Kill them all!"

"Ahh, about that...I'm afraid darling Frankie is having a little time-out," her voice came back over the sound of grunts and squelching as something heavy and metal hacked against the tiled floor. "Don't worry, though. He'll come back in one form or another – fucking hell, he's a big fucker, isn't he? Jesus Christ, what did his mother feed him, children?"

Isobel replied with another furious scream.

"Two -  you can scream all you want, sweetheart, or you can come out of your little hidey-hole and come play with me. So, what is it going to be? Scream or play, or perhaps we could turn this party into both?"

Isobel chose to scream, dashing out of her hide-out from the cupboard beneath the stairs. She had just darted into the hallway, aiming to reach the front door and escape. Grasping the handle, she pushed and pulled, hollering when she found it locked. Changing tactics, she whipped around and headed for the back exit. She snarled when in her haste, she tumbled over her suitcases, earning a peal of laughter from the dining room.

Freedom was just right at her grasp. All she had to was reach it without the huntress or one of the vampires getting to her first. It should be simple, right? With her enhanced eyesight, she could see the door still open, urging her to take advantage and flee. And so she did.

That was her second biggest mistake yet.

Isobel had just sped past the doorway of the kitchen, her fingers kissing the night air when something heavy and circular from the darkness came hurling towards her like a bowling ball, aiming for a full strike. Letting out an anguished shriek, she attempted to backpedal to avoid stepping on it. Yet was unsuccessful, and with a resemblance like a large bumpy boulder when she had trodden on it, her descend was inevitable.

The precise moment when the predator became the prey.

The black shadow merging from the night stepped inside the house and slammed the door shut, and sealed her demise by engaging the locks.

Like a caged animal, Isobel whirled around in circles and fled back into the direction of the front entry, as her hunter intended. However, in her haste, her feet skidded in the slippy and sticky residue painting the kitchen floor and fell to her knees, the perfect opportunity for the vervain dart to shoot into her neck. She growled and reached up to wrench it out when an arrow next pierced into her upper back, striking between her shoulder blades. Another promptly entered above her posterior — the unexpected blows blasting her onto her anterior.

The triple doses of vervain rendered her weak and powerless as the lights turned on and revealed The Protectress hovering above her.

"Peek-a-boo, change of plans, I found you!"

"Oh, God, no, not you. Get away from me!" Isobel howled, dragging her body across the floor in an attempt to get away. Her pleas went on silent ears as cold blue eyes stared dead at her, slithering towards her.  

"Yes, yes, I love it when they beg for me!"

A black boot stomped down on the arrow embedded in her lower back, puncturing the tool straight through before a wooden stake was then stabbed into her back. Isobel gasped, feeling the spike brush against her heart and the warm breath blowing down her neck as Darcella crouched next to her, whispering into her ear, "Feel that scraping your heart, darling? A centimetre to the right, and your heart will be mine. You wanted to play dirty, but I'm about to show you the meaning of filthy. Get ready. This is just the beginning."

Darcella stood to her feet, staring down at Elena's birth mother as she withered and cried. Pathetic. "Damon. Put her with John," she ordered.

She waited and watched as Damon stepped out of the dining room and grabbed Isobel by the legs before leaving the room.

*•*•*•*

"She got you good, huh? I warned you about being a curious kitty," he commented. And with a smirk and a whistle-tune, he then proceeded to drag her along the floor, arrows and stake still embedded and all. Entering the dining room, he deposited her at John's feet, who now, because of his rambling, had a gagged stuffed into his mouth.

"Where'd Darcy go?" Stefan commented as he stood up from his seated position at the head of the dining table. With gloved hands, he rounded the table, causing John to flinch when he paused in front of him to assist Damon.

"To fetch her little playmate...or what's left of him," Damon' eyes flashed with irritation. He grunted, hauling Isobel to her feet, and restrained her arms behind her back, making sure to keep the stake in her back in case she wrestled free, whilst Stefan wrenched out the arrowheads. Though the vervain wouldn't kill her, the amount she had was enough to knock her unconscious for a little time, enough to tie and bound her.

Stefan laughed, storing the arrows into his pants pocket. "Oh, don't tell me you're jealous..." Damon rolled his eyes. "Wait, you actually are. This is gold."

"Yeah, laugh all you want, but when Princess is done with Isobel, you bet you will be next. She did tell you to stay with Elena."

Stefan shrugged, his amusement fading into a look of resolute validation. "I had to make sure she was safe. It's all or nothing, Damon, and I choose to go all in."

A fierce emotion washed over Damon. "All in, Brother. Thanks to Darcy, I've just got you back, and I don't plan on losing you again. They've not only hurt her, but they also want to kill us too, and I intend to find out why. Promise me, Stef, we'll fight this together? Me, you, and Darcella?"

"Together," Stefan vowed, squeezing Damon's shoulder and bounded Isobel to a chair with the vervain slathered ropes. He winced, the pungent stench wafting up to his nose, and prayed he would never be the one in Isobel's place.

*•*•*•*

John struggled to comprehend if this was his reality or if his mind was playing tricks. Vertigo and his muddled head made it difficult to see through the blur of the sheen, misting his senses when Darcella emerged from around the corner with a horrifying object in her grasp. The blood splatters on her face harmonised his theories, along with her crimson-smeared hands clutching Frank's dismembered head. With wide eyes, he watched as she waited until Damon and Stefan had Isobel secured next to John before stepping fully into the room and sauntered over to the dining table and depositing the maimed head onto the dark-oak countertop.

John began to squirm when her dilated blue eyes flickered to him. She grinned as she placed down the Pneumatic Stake and Arrow Launcher that he had now noticed was secured to her wrist and pulled off the quiver and arrows strapped across her back, settling them into a duffle bag that was already set on the table. Panic mumbles gargled behind the gag stuffed in his mouth when she shredded off her leather jacket, revealing the harness fastened around her waist and threw it on a chair beside her. Though it wasn't the harness itself that had him frightened, it was the sleek black daggers and the wooden stakes attached to it. His sight drifted to the two empty slots.

She really was the mastermind behind the operation, whilst the Salvatore's were her buffers.

Pulling out a bottle of golden liquid that resembled apple juice, John knew to be vervain. A manic grin spread across her ruby-painted lips as she dragged the chair from the table and positioned it in front of him and Isobel. She waited until she made eye contact with the brothers before taking a seat and diverting her attention to John.

Darcella slipped a dagger out of the harness, unsheathed it and unscrewed the bottle of vervain and then dipped the blade into the liquid. Staring into John's eyes, she leant forward and stabbed Isobel in the thigh. The vampire woke up from her unconscious state, a blood-curdling scream spilling past her lips as her watery eyes met with The Protectress.

"Welcome back, Isobel. Glad to have your attention," she tilted her head, "What was that? Can't quite hear you over your wailing."

"I-I said when I get my hands on you, I-I'm going to kill as I should have originally!" Isobel screeched, tugging on her bounds and hissing when the vervain ropes cut into her wrists.

"Issy, Issy, there's no need to be aggressive. We just want to have a little chat," Darcella tutted, playfully shaking her head.

Once Isobel quietened down somewhat and stopped wriggling, she continued. "Now, if I have your attention, we're about to play another game... it's called eenie meenie, miny, moe, catch a vampire by its toe." Isobel glared at her with hatred, prompting Darcella to chuckle. "Heard of it, right? If they holler, let them go?"

Isobel snarled in reply. "Yes, yes, I know, you're in quite a predicament... since I caught you and made you holler... several times, might I add. Now the question is, do I let you go, or do I repeat the cycle?"

Stefan stepped forward and sat on the edge of the dining table, just off the side to John and crossed his arms. "You said vampire, right?" Darcella nodded. Stefan kicked John's chair. "Since John is... human, what does the game entail for him?"

"Glad you asked, Steffy. For John, we're gonna make some adjustments. We can't leave him out, now can we?"

John widened his eyes and wriggled in protest. "Aww, Johnny, don't worry, you'll get your turn," she looked at the occupants in the room, prompting Damon to step closer.

"When the dagger points at either of you, you must answer the questions we supply you. Failure to do so will result in the form of punishment. It can be any as we see fit. You can either comply, or force will be applied, which I'm sure Damon and Stefan will gladly oblige."

Damon smirked and rubbed his hands. "When do we start?"

"Now," she stood up and circled the wounded duo. Damon jumped in her seat like an excited puppy. Stefan removed John's gag.

"Darcella-"

"You're no longer permitted to call me by such name."

"- Darcy, please. Don't do this. This isn't you."

She wrenched his head back and hissed into his ear. "You do not get to question who I am. You helped create this person. You would not be seated here as the victim if you had heeded my advice. Now shut your mouth. The game is about to begin."

"Why do you want the invention?" Stefan stepped forward, questioning Isobel.

"No comment," Isobel shook her head in protest, causing Darcella to look at Damon for his next step of action.

Damon grinned, preening. He stood up and approached Isobel and wrenched the dagger out of her thigh.

"No, okay! I'll tell you!" Isobel screamed.

"I love it when they scream," he ignored her, stabbing her in the same spot, the vervain seeping into the already bloody and irritated wound.

"Stop! I'll tell you!" John croaked.

"You're brave... or stupid," Damon raised a brow and reclaimed Darcella's seat. "Go on, squeal, I'm all ears."

"The invention... it's a device to kill the towns vampire element."

"You're telling us what we already know," Stefan said. "Why don't you tell us something... more valuable? We want to know why Pearl gave it to Damon. There's a bigger reason here."

"Ahh, yes. I forgot to mention, John here has already disposed of Pearl. Go on, tell them how you killed Pearl," Darcella chimed in.

"Pearl's dead?" Damon said, exchanging a look with Stefan.

"Well, he didn't quite clarify, but he also didn't deny," she walked around John and crouched to his level. "Did you or did you not kill Pearl?"

John bowed his head, though his eyes revealed no remorse. "Yes. I killed Pearl and another one of the tomb vampires. They were the only ones at the house. I think they were planning to leave Mystic Falls before I turned up," he admitted in defeat.

"So, I'm assuming Pearl handed over the device with the knowledge of its intention and then attempted to buck it?" Damon clarified.

"And for it to backfire," Darcella added. "I told you her 'apology' didn't add up."

"Maybe Pearl expected to hand it over to Damon and intend to keep it away from John and Isobel?" Stefan piped up.

"And then do a runner knowing her plan could end up in jeopardy? That's more likely," Darcella replied with an eye roll. She stood back up and moved over to Isobel. Pearl knew what she was doing and wanted the fire off her back when it struck. Yet, karma came regardless.

"You're quiet over here, Issy. The next question is for you," Darcella said sweetly, reaching forward and tugging on her ponytail playfully. "Why are you in Mystic Falls?"

"I already told you... I wanted the invention," Isobel growled.

"Actually, let me rephrase your statement there. You came to Mystic Falls to contact Elena, who you wanted to get the invention for you. That's cheating, don't you think, or do you enjoy people doing your work for you?"

"I wouldn't have needed to come here if John had done his job correctly! So, it's down to his failure. I'm here. There you go, you got what you wanted, and now you can let me go, and we can forget all this transpired," she screamed.

"Well, you didn't exactly do a perfect job yourself, either!" John exclaimed. "All you had to was get it from Damon and hand it over to me!"

Darcella slammed her hand down on the dagger, digging it deeper into Isobel's thigh. "We use inside voices indoors, sweetheart. There's no need to shout. We can all hear you perfectly well."

Isobel bit her tongue, blood filling her mouth in her attempt to quell her screams. "Good girl. Almost at the end now... Ugh, stop wriggling. You're dripping blood on the floor," the Protectress pouted down at the bloody puddle forming beneath Isobel's chair.

"So, we know the device kills vampires, and Damon had it. But I want to know, what was the next plan in motion?" Stefan asked.

"Pearl said she had given it to Damon, which Isobel was meant to get from him," John said.

"Yes, 'cause you are too wimpy to get it yourself," Damon replied smugly. "Couldn't do the job yourself, so you ask your girlfriend to do it for you."

"I'm not his girlfriend!" Isobel shouted.

"If I recall, you said John had a little crush on you when you were teenager's," Stefan smirked.

"Yes, but we were never together," she continued to deny, glaring at the green-eyed vampire.

"Didn't stop you from opening your legs, though, did it?" Darcella chimed in.

Isobel snapped her head at the dark-haired woman. "What are you implying?"

"I think you should be asking John that question. He did impregnate you after all," she smirked.

Damon jumped to his feet, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. "Wait... wait! Are you saying John and Isobel did the frisky-tango, and a sprog popped out the oven?"

Darcella grinned and nodded. She was enjoying this way too much.

Damon turned to the frustrated duo, smirking arrogantly. "Ohh, you filthy animals!... Wait! Hold on, let my head catch up... frisky-tango resulted in a sprog, which Isobel is the sprog's mother and John sprog's father. That means... Elena is the sprog! Holy shit, this is getting good," he laughed and slapped John on the shoulder. "Nice one, buddy!"

"And Elena doesn't know," Stefan said, cutting Damon off.

"And she won't ever know!" John exclaimed.

"Ouch, that's a foul play. Still nice, maybe not for you when she finds out," Damon snickered with a wince, imagining the showdown. One he wants to see.

"Alright, let's continue before Damon combusts," Darcella said. "I'm getting bored... You are both committed to the exact motive. We know the invention kills the vampire element. John conveniently arrived after the tomb vampires escaped. Which he would only know if someone was watching from the shadows."

"Or perhaps, he was close by all the long," Stefan added.

Darcella pointed at the fair-haired vampire. "Or that indeed. I'm voting for both, though."

John's face paled as he shared an alarmed glance with Isobel.

Suddenly, Darcella pulled out a dagger from the harness and jabbed it under John's chin, forcing him to look her in the eye.

Damon and Stefan stepped forward, ready to intervene.

"I'm getting close to hot, aren't I?" The Protectress whispered.

"No, you're wrong," John gulped, wincing when she trailed the blade lower and applied pressure to his jugular.

"You're lying. I can feel your pulse hammering. Do you want to know the other reason how I know so?"

John shook his head in denial. A bead of sweat trailed down his face.

"Damon, want to do the honours and tell him how?"

"It will be my pleasure, my lady," Damon grinned, wiggling his brows. "Earlier as Isobel would know. I paid her... a friendly visit. After a little playtime, two things were revealed... A; the invention was stolen from me. B; Isobel confessed that you, she, and another all sought the same goal."

John shot Isobel a look of betrayal that caused her to backpedal. "I didn't! I said we're on the same side."

Stefan frowned when Damon and Darcella shared a look of amusement on what they clearly knew, but he didn't. "Which side?"

"Katherine's," Darcella revealed.

"Impossible," Stefan shook his head. But he, too, deep down realised there were too many connections not for it to all add up.

"The invention was stolen!" John yelled. "How is that possible? How can someone take it from under your nose! How can you be so foolish!"

"Someone is playing games! Which is why I took Jeremy as a punishment— Ahhh!" Isobel erupted into a long, agonising howl when a stake was stabbed into her chest, brushing against her heart. "Please, please! Stop! I'll tell you everything I know. Please!"

Hands gripped her face, forcing her to look into a pair of steely blue eyes. "Mother and daughter really do share something in common– your lack of brain cells. You think you can walk into my town, hurt the people I care about, and not foresee the consequences. Very foolish of you! From the moment you've stepped in here and started commanding your arse about. I've been ten yards ahead of you, anticipating and intercepting your every movement," she paused, directing her following sentence to Damon.

"Get me her phone."

Stefan stepped forward, sensing her mounting emotions and rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. "What are you doing, Darcy? Don't you think this is enough?"

"I SAID GET ME HER PHONE!" Darcella roared, ripping the stake out of Isobel's chest and plunging it again immediately after.

A tear trailed down her cheek upon remembering the vision that had materialised into her mind when the three scapegoats were distracted by the Salvatore's. There was a small moment just before she released Jeremy from the bounds. A moment like a flash, she had seen a different boy.

Stab!

A brown-haired boy, adorned in old frocks, and the colour of crimson seeping through his pores.

Stab!

The boy who plagues her sleep.

Stab!

The boy she seeks their redemption.

Stab!

The boy who had left a hollow hole in her chest.

Stab!

And then, just like thin air, he evaporated. Lost and trapped... and somewhere far and between.

Multiple stabs followed, the howls and screams erupting from Isobel went on silent ears over the anguish wracking through Darcy's body. Wrenching her away, Stefan sat on the floor with her on his lap and wrapped his arms around her frame, burying his head into her neck. The Salvatore ignored the yells and the hits to his chest, remaining his soothing and restrictive hold.

This was the girl who changed his perspective on his life. He wouldn't be sitting there today, learning to embrace who he truly is. Vampire and all. He's slowly coming to terms with that being his destiny. Helped repair a bond that was once ripped to tethers and now reforming into resilience. The girl who had taken his life into her hands and then put her own at risk so he could escape death. The girl who helped him discover what falling in love really felt like. And sitting here, with her gripping onto him like he's her anchor, Stefan finds she is as much broken as he is. 

Isobel and John was the cause for her last thread to cut.

And hell may be dammed, but he won't have a pointless death sitting on her hands, one that could potentially haunt her conscious in time to come—making eye contact with his brother, who held his shoulder in silent support. He nodded, signalling for him to comply with Darcella's last request.

Damon sped from the room and returned moments later. Crouching, he brushed aside the wet strands stuck to her cheeks and handed her Isobel' phone. They watched cautiously from over her shoulder as she stood to her feet and sped through the contacts. They sucked in a breath at the one she selected, opting for a video call.

She turned the phone to face Isobel. "I'm about to show you what happens when people harm things that don't belong to them."

Isobel stared at the contact name on the screen and cried. "No, no! Do anything but this. Anything, please! You don't know what mistake you're about to commit. Above everything that has happened, you seem like a bright, courageous girl. If you follow this through, you'll be making a grave mistake, one that would cost you your life."

Darcy ignored her and contacted the call. She shrugged, hearing the dial tone. "I don't have any qualms about dying for those I care for. If it means there's an opportunity for my family to come out unscathed, I'll do anything to strive for that. Death or not," she paused, hearing the phone connect. She shifts, keeping Isobel in the line of sight.

"Did you find the device yet?" came their greeting.

"Do you want to confess on how you were such a failure, or shall I do the honours?"

Isobel shook her head. "Please, if you have an ounce of mercy within you, you will rethink this."

"That's where you're mistaken, Isobel. There's no ounce of mercy within me. You can't commit treason without paying the price. And this happens to be yours."

"Darcel—" John began but stopped when Darcy shot him a murderous look. "Don't do this. Think of our family. You'll be putting them in danger before you can end the call."

"Hello... Isobel? The device... Did you get it?" the voice called out again.

A chuckle escaped Darcy before she spoke. "Humour me, do you make a tradition of assigning incompetent lackeys? I mean, seriously, they are horrendous."

A thud sounded on the line, a noise as if someone had dropped something on the floor. She raised a brow and took a peek at the screen, seeing white vast expanse surroundings and a flash of brown whip into view before she turned the phone back onto Isobel. 

"Who is this, and how did you get Isobel's phone?"

"I'm afraid she's a little tied up, quite literally. Here look, I'll show you," Darcy said, tilting the camera to show the bound ties around her wrists and feet and then pausing on the dagger still attached to her thigh. "Isobel got herself into a bit of a pickle, and well..."

"Stuck?" they replied through a cough.

"That, and sticking her nose where it's not wanted. Tell me, do you enjoy others doing your dirty work for you? One fails, so you send another, only for them to flop, too. It's pathetic, really." There was a shuffle and a brief pause before they replied again. "What excuse warrants you to speak to me in such a way?"

"Let me take you back to a flashback during the 19th century. This memory should be very vivid; you were a major character after all. Upon the founder's council finding out the identities of the vampires, you had faked your death and escaped being sealed into the tomb with the aid of another. Now we are with some very angry tomb vampires who have escaped. But you already know that. You do plan to finish the job with the help of John Gilbert, don't you, Katherine?"

"Well, someone's a smart cookie and read up on their homework," she chuckled. "Since we're on a first-name basis, do I get to learn yours?"

"Is that before or after I kill Isobel? You should know I already have a wooden stake brushing against her heart. A flick to the right, her hearts mine." The Protectress handed the phone to Stefan and circled Isobel's wriggling form.

"You wouldn't. I don't think you've got in you," Katherine's bored tone sounded over the video call. Yet, her body language defied her, moving closer to the screen when the back of a slim figure stepped into view and began to circle Isobel like prey and pause behind her seated and bound form. She caught a flash of red fixed to a chest before the long dark hair hid it from view and draped an arm around Isobel's torso, fingers caressing the wooden stake impaled through her chest. 

Just before they pulled out the stake and plunged it into Isobel's heart, the figure lifted their head. 

Not much terrified her. However, the pair of blue eyes staring back into the camera had her dropping the phone onto the floor a second time. The first was when she heard her voice. Many would forget names and faces after time. Yet, some had left a lasting effect. This one would remain for eternity.

Once upon a time, she had been the light of many hearts and remains.

Once upon a time, she had changed so many lives, never to be the same again.

Still to this day, her name brings pain in its wake.

Turning a family into bloodthirsty creatures who sought to cure their hollow cores.

Darcella Mikaelson, the girl who died in Katerina Petrova's arms five hundred years ago.

And to this day, she's been her biggest lie and secret yet.

-

What a plot twist, huh? Did anyone see it coming? Expect more to come from Darcella's and Katherine's storyline in season 2. It's really touching and grabs at your heart, yet also makes you want to scream in anxiety for what's in store for Katherine in the future. 

I'm a mess. This chapter put me through a range of different emotions. From excitement, rushing adrenaline and sadness. 

The next chapter/episode is the finale. I will say now. I will need some time to brush things up and say brace yourself. It's going to be epic!