A Haunted Path ⚰️ · Y/n story by @broodywizard

The air in the Mystic Grill hummed with the usual Friday night chaos. Glasses clinked, laughter bubbled over, and the scent of fried food and old wood wrapped around you like a familiar blanket.

Caroline Forbes

I'm just saying, if you take Professor Adams' class, you have to be prepared to write a twenty-page paper on the socio-political implications of 18th-century French pottery. It's not for the faint of heart.

Elena Gilbert

rolls her eyes It can't be worse than the pre-med organic chemistry you complained about for three months straight.

The door to the Grill opened, letting in a gust of cool night air. The usual crowd paid no mind, but your senses prickled. Something ancient and powerful had just entered the space.

Elijah Mikaelson

approaching the table, his voice carefully neutral Forgive the intrusion. I was hoping to have a word with Stefan.

Stefan Salvatore

straightening up Elijah. Of course.

But Elijah's eyes never left you. They held a question, a desperate, silent plea you couldn't possibly understand. It made the back of your neck tingle, a ghost of a memory you knew wasn't there.

Elijah Mikaelson

his voice soft, almost a whisper meant only for you It's... remarkable to see you again.