The bleeding walls weren't the worst part. It was how methodically the blood flowed - each droplet falling with perfect precision, forming patterns that suggested meaning just beyond comprehension.
"Don't look at the patterns," Katherine warned sharply, her eyes fixed firmly on the floor. "That's how he gets in - through meaning itself."
But Alexander couldn't look away from his reflection - or rather, the thing wearing his face in every reflective surface. The black eyes seemed to hold entire universes of darkness, and the smile...
"Brother," Stefan moved toward him slowly, "step away from the window."
"I can't," Alexander whispered. "He's... he's showing me something. Through the reflections, he's..."
The bleeding walls began to pulse in rhythm with Katherine's scar, crimson light spreading through the boarding house like veins in a living thing. Every shadow gained depth, suggesting spaces that shouldn't exist.
"Bonnie," Elena's voice shook slightly, "can you-"
"No," Bonnie cut her off, her witch's senses overwhelmed. "My magic... it's like the whole room is holding its breath. Like the world itself is waiting for something."
Damon moved to pour another drink, but the bourbon in his glass had turned to something darker, thicker. Something that moved with purpose.
"Okay," he set the glass down carefully, "new rule - nothing liquid is safe right now."
"Nothing is safe right now," Katherine corrected softly. Her hand hadn't left her scar, which pulsed brighter with each passing moment. "He's not just watching anymore. He's..."
She never finished. Every reflection in the room - windows, mirrors, even the surface of Damon's abandoned bourbon - suddenly showed the same scene:
A vast chamber carved from living shadow, its architecture part beautiful, part horrifying. Pillars rose like teeth from the ground, each one carved with faces frozen in eternal screams. And suspended in the center...
"No," Katherine breathed, genuine terror cracking her voice. "No, he can't be showing us..."
But he was. Through every reflection, they saw them - Rebekah, who they recognized and who they - save Katherine - assumed were Kol, Klaus, alongside others they didn't recognize, all perfectly preserved in crystalline cases that pulsed with crimson light.
"The collection," Bonnie realized, her ancestral knowledge providing context she wished she didn't have. "He's showing us where he keeps..."
"Their souls," Stefan finished grimly. "What Elijah and Mikael told us about."
But something was wrong with the scene. The preservation wasn't cruel or torturous - it was... careful. Loving, almost. Each crystal case was a work of art, designed to complement its occupant perfectly.
"Look at their faces," Elena whispered. "They're not in pain. They're..."
"At peace," Alexander said quietly, understanding dawning in his voice. "They're not prisoners. They're... protected. Preserved."
Katherine's laugh held an edge of madness. "Of course they are. That's what he does - takes what he loves and makes it eternal. Perfect. Unchanging."
The reflections rippled, showing them more of the vast chamber. Each crystalline case was a masterpiece of preservation, the souls within suspended in moments of perfect contentment or despair - depending on who they were to the King.
"He's showing us what we could be," Katherine whispered, her voice carrying a strange longing. "What it means to be part of his collection."
Through the mirrors, they saw Rebekah dancing in endless summer, her face radiant with joy. Kol surrounded by magical knowledge he'd always craved, his essence finally whole again. Klaus creating art with Aurora at his side, their love frozen in eternal perfection.
"This isn't torture," Bonnie realized, her witch's senses overwhelmed by the beauty of it. "This is..."
"Salvation," Alexander finished softly. His reflection smiled wider, those black eyes holding promises of peace. "He's offering us..."
The bleeding walls formed new patterns, showing them glimpses of what could be:
Elena eternally young, forever with Stefan, never having to worry about once more losing those she loves
Bonnie with power beyond imagining, her magic unfettered by nature's laws
Stefan finally at peace with his nature, his ripper side transformed into art
Damon finding the acceptance he'd always craved
Alexander feeling himself worth something, not as but an echo of someone else, but his own person.
"Stop," Elena tried to look away, but the visions were everywhere. "This isn't real. It can't be..."
"But it is," Katherine's voice held wonder now, her earlier fear transforming into something else. "Don't you see? He doesn't want to destroy us. He wants to perfect us."
The shadows moved closer, gentle now, almost caressing. The crimson light pulsed with warmth rather than menace.
Through Alexander's reflection, that layered voice spoke again: "Why fight what you already know is true? Why resist perfection? Look at them - look at how peaceful they are in my care."
"He's lying," Bonnie tried to assert, but her voice wavered. "This has to be..."
"A trick?" Katherine laughed softly. "No. This is the truth. He doesn't need to lie to us, we are already exactly where he wants us to be..."
The bleeding walls formed new patterns, each one showing them their deepest desires made real. The shadows danced with promise, offering peace, offering belonging.
"All you have to do," Alexander's reflection smiled gently, "is let go. Let me in. Let me make you perfect."
The room seemed to hold its breath, reality itself waiting for their answer. The choice hung before them - resistance with all its pain and uncertainty, or perfect, eternal peace in his collection.
The moment stretched, when suddenly the boarding house doors burst open. Elijah and Mikael's entrance shattered the seductive spell, the bleeding walls retreating like startled animals.
"Step away from the reflections," Elijah commanded, his voice carrying ancient authority. "Now."
But Alexander remained transfixed, his eyes locked with his reflection's black gaze. "You don't understand," he whispered. "He's showing us the truth. About peace, about perfection..."
"That's not truth," Mikael growled, moving forward with predatory grace. "That's his oldest trick - offering exactly what you desire most, making damnation look like salvation."
The reflections rippled, the peaceful visions trying to maintain their hold, but Elijah's presence seemed to disrupt their power. The shadows retreated further, though the crimson light still pulsed faintly through the room.
"Look at how peaceful they are," Alexander insisted, gesturing to the fading images of the collection. "Rebekah, Kol, Klaus - they're not suffering. They're..."
"Preserved," Elijah finished coldly. "Like butterflies pinned to a board. Perfect, beautiful, and utterly devoid of free will."
Katherine laughed suddenly, the sound sharp with hysteria. "Free will? Is that what you think we have now? Dancing to his tune, playing our parts in his grand design?"
"There's a difference," Mikael stated firmly, though something in his voice wavered. "Between playing a part and being... frozen. Trapped in a moment of false joy."
The reflection wearing Alexander's face smiled wider, and when it spoke, the voice carried echoes of ancient patience:
"False joy, father? Tell me, what makes their peace false? Because they chose to let go of pain? Because they accepted perfection instead of clinging to the illusion of freedom?"
Elijah moved with supernatural speed, placing himself between Alexander and the window. "Enough," he commanded. "You've shown them enough."
The bleeding walls had almost completely receded, but the crimson light remained, pulsing gently like a lullaby. Through every remaining reflection, they could still see glimpses of that vast chamber, of souls suspended in eternal bliss.
"Have I?" Alexander's reflection asked softly. "Or have I merely shown them what you fear they'll understand - that resistance isn't noble, it's merely... unnecessary?"
"Brother," Stefan grabbed Alexander's shoulders, forcing him to look away from the windows. "Whatever he's showing you, whatever peace he's offering - it's not worth the price."
"Isn't it?" Katherine's voice was dreamy now, her hand still pressed to her pulsing scar. "To never feel pain again, to be perfectly preserved in your highest moment of joy..."
"That's not life," Elena insisted, though her own voice shook. "That's... that's death made beautiful."
"Perhaps," the reflection conceded, its smile gentle now, almost loving. "But isn't that better than ugly, painful life? Ask Katerina - she's spent centuries running, fighting, surviving. Wouldn't peace be sweeter?"
Mikael suddenly roared, the sound more primal than human, and smashed the nearest mirror. The reflection simply appeared in the fragments, multiplied now, showing them the collection from dozens of angles.
"You think breaking mirrors will stop him from showing us truth?" Katherine laughed. "He's everywhere. In every reflection, every shadow, every moment of doubt..."
"Bonnie," Elijah's voice cut through the growing hysteria. "Spell. Now."
Bonnie's hands shook as she began to chant, ancestral power flowing through her. The shadows resisted at first, but gradually began to retreat. The crimson light pulsed once more, almost regretfully, before fading.
The reflections returned to normal, though Alexander's eyes remained fixed on where the visions had been. The bleeding walls dried, leaving no trace of their impossible patterns.
"Well," Damon broke the heavy silence, his voice strained. "That was... enlightening. Anyone else need a drink? A real one this time?"
But no one moved. They all felt it - the weight of what they'd seen, of what they'd been offered. Perfect peace, eternal joy, the end of all pain and uncertainty.
"It would have been so easy," Alexander whispered. "To just... let go."
"That's why we have to be stronger," Elijah stated firmly, though his own gaze lingered on where the visions had shown his siblings at peace. "Because he knows exactly what we want most."
"And he can give it to us," Katherine added softly. "That's the real horror, isn't it? That everything he offers is real. That peace is possible, if we just..."
"Stop," Mikael commanded, but his voice lacked its usual force. "This is exactly what he wants - to make us doubt, to make us long for..."
He couldn't finish. They all understood too well now. The true danger wasn't in fighting his power - it was in wanting what he offered. In knowing that peace was possible, if they just stopped resisting.
The night pressed closer around the boarding house, and somewhere in the darkness, the architect of their temptation smiled, knowing that seeds of longing had been planted. Seeds that would grow into the sweetest kind of surrender.
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(Author note: Hello everyone! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter!
How did you all find it?
What the hell is Vali even playing at?
Why did he do what he did?
Or has he even done this? Is this an illusion?
What happened these past 1000 years?
What about Tatia, Aurora, Tristan and Finn?
Find out next time on drago- I mean, the Boy King in TVD/TO!)