Stefan and Damon approached the large, weathered building with purpose, the moon casting long shadows behind them as they strode up to the door. Damon's eyes sparkled with his usual mischievous glint, while Stefan remained focused, his expression neutral but tense. The old house, worn down yet still imposing, seemed to loom over them, and Stefan could feel the tension in the air.
Damon was the first to knock, rapping his knuckles sharply against the wooden door. A few seconds passed before the door creaked open, revealing an older woman standing in the dim light of the doorway, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in the sight of the two men before her.
Damon's lips curved into a sly smile, his eyes flicking over her with obvious amusement. "Well, would you look at that," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "They kept the old hag. How charming." He chuckled to himself, as if entertained by his own remark. "Guess Pearl doesn't want other vampires getting too cozy in her little territory."
The older woman's eyes darkened slightly at Damon's words, but she said nothing, holding her posture stiff and composed. Stefan, sensing the tension, stepped forward with a calm yet firm tone. "We're here to see Pearl," he said, his gaze steady. "Tell her the Salvatore brothers are here."
The woman raised an eyebrow, her gaze lingering on Stefan for a moment longer, as if sizing him up. "And who should I say is calling?" she asked, her voice rough and unimpressed.
Stefan met her gaze evenly, his tone steady but with a hint of impatience. "Just tell her the Salvatore brothers. She'll know who we are."
The woman gave a slow nod, her movements deliberate, almost as if she was weighing whether to actually comply. She turned on her heel, her back hunched slightly with age, and began to shuffle back into the house.
As she retreated, Damon leaned in toward Stefan, his voice a low murmur filled with amusement. "You'd think after all these years, they'd upgrade their doormen. Maybe someone less… ancient?"
Stefan shot his brother a warning glance, shaking his head slightly. "Focus, Damon," he muttered under his breath.
Damon merely shrugged, his usual smirk never leaving his face as he leaned casually against the doorframe, waiting.
After a few minutes, Pearl appeared in the hallway, though she kept her distance, standing at the threshold of the dimly lit room. She didn't trust the Salvatore brothers—not fully—and her instincts told her to be cautious. Her gaze flickered between them, sharp and calculating, her hands folded in front of her as if to maintain an air of control.
"To what do I owe this pleasant visit?" she asked coolly, her voice laced with suspicion, though she maintained a polite demeanor. Her eyes narrowed slightly, studying their expressions as if waiting for the trick she was certain they were hiding.
Stephen, not wanting to waste time, stepped forward, his expression serious. "We're here for the other half of the device," he said plainly, his voice steady and direct. "And this isn't just a request from us—it's coming from higher up. He saved you, Pearl. On the behest of your daughter, no less. It would be a waste if you died, so he's giving you a chance. Take your daughter and leave town as fast as you can."
Pearl's eyes darkened at his words, her brow furrowing as she took in what Stephen was saying. Her lips pressed into a thin line, her posture stiffening with indignation. She wasn't one to respond kindly to threats, no matter how veiled they were. Her fingers twitched slightly, betraying her irritation.
"I'm afraid I'll have to refuse your generous offer," she replied, her voice cool but firm. Her eyes locked onto Stephen's, unyielding. "And you can tell whoever sent you that if they want something from me, they can come here themselves. I don't negotiate through intermediaries, especially ones I don't trust." Her words were sharp, final, as she turned on her heel, preparing to leave.
But before she could fully turn away, Damon's laughter rang out, cold and mocking. It echoed through the hallway, causing Pearl to pause in her step. Damon stepped forward, his eyes flashing with amusement as his lips curled into a smirk.
"How laughable," Damon drawled, his tone dripping with sarcasm. His gaze shifted from Pearl to Stephen, as if to emphasize how ridiculous he found her response. "You think refusing us is safe? Us being here, Pearl, was already a risk to your little sanctuary." His smirk faded, replaced by a deadly seriousness as he took another step toward her. "When he arrives… he's going to burn your so-called safe haven to the ground with nothing but a snap of his fingers."
Damon's eyes turned dark, his vampire features emerging—veins bulging beneath his eyes, his fangs visible as he spoke. "So I'm going to say this one last time," he hissed, his voice low and menacing, "hand over the piece and get out of town, before you force me to make you."
The room grew tense as Damon's words hung in the air, thick with the weight of his threat. Pearl's face remained composed, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes as she processed his words. For a brief moment, her fingers twitched at her side, as if debating whether to strike back or stand her ground. She stared at Damon, her resolve wavering, though her expression remained defiant.
Stefan, watching the exchange closely, remained silent, but his gaze flickered toward Damon, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. He knew his brother well enough to understand that the playful banter was over. This was now a dangerous game.
Pearl's expression hardened as she turned away from the Salvatore brothers, her posture rigid, refusing to give in to their threats. "Do your worst," she said icily, her voice resolute. Without another glance, she strode down the hallway, her footsteps echoing ominously in the stillness of the room. She motioned to the older woman standing nearby. "Close the door on our visitors."
The old woman nodded obediently and began shuffling toward the door, her movements slow and deliberate. The tension in the air was palpable, as the brothers stood unmoving, their eyes following her every step.
Stefan sighed heavily, his gaze narrowing on the old woman's retreating form. "Big mistake," he muttered under his breath, his eyes darkening with a sudden, lethal intensity.
Before anyone could react, a wooden stake flew through the air with terrifying speed. The old woman barely had time to turn before it impaled her chest, pinning her to the wall with a sickening thud. Her eyes widened in shock, and within seconds, her body went limp, lifeless. The threshold that had kept the vampires at bay flickered and vanished.
Damon's lips twisted into a devilish grin, his fangs glinting as his vampire features became more pronounced. He turned his head toward Stefan, his voice smooth yet menacing. "After you, ripper."
Stefan met his brother's gaze, his once calm demeanor dissolving as his own face contorted into a wicked grin. His eyes gleamed with a sadistic hunger, veins creeping beneath his skin. "Oh, with pleasure," he growled, the thrill of violence electrifying his voice.
In a blur of movement, Stefan vamp-sped into the house, his body moving with terrifying precision and speed. Damon followed closely behind, his expression one of cold amusement as he watched his brother revel in the chaos. Stefan's movements were fluid, controlled but brutal, as he targeted the remaining vampires inside, his eyes gleaming with the familiar bloodlust that earned him the name 'ripper.'
Damon, always the observer, leaned casually against the wall for a moment, watching Stefan with a twisted sense of pride. "Always one for dramatic entrances," he mused quietly, before springing into action himself, his laughter echoing through the room as he joined the fray.
Pearl, hearing the commotion, froze mid-step, her heart sinking as the sound of Stefan's rampage reverberated through the house. She turned slowly, dread pooling in her stomach as she realized the magnitude of her mistake.
The brothers were in.