Salvotore Boarding School...
As the black SUV pulled into the gravel drive of the Salvatore Boarding School,
Its headlights cut through the mist curling along the tree-lined road.
The iron gates closed behind them with a low groan, sealing the group back into familiar grounds.
Jojo stepped out first, his boots landing with a soft crunch against the wet earth.
Caroline, Bonnie, and Elena followed closely behind, each of them visibly tired but intact.
The night still clung to them like a second skin—
Rain-soaked memories, blood, and fire.
Waiting at the entrance were faces lined with tension and relief.
Rosalie stood front and centre, arms folded across her chest, expression unreadable.
"____"
Until she strode forward and, without warning, drove her fist into Jojo's gut.
THUMP.
Jojo doubled slightly with a grunt, hand instinctively reaching for the spot.
He didn't bruise.
Not anymore.
But the hit still made its point.
"You disappeared for three days."
Rosalie snapped, voice sharp with worry.
"And you didn't pick up once."
"I was a little busy being nearly eaten alive,"
Jojo muttered, straightening up.
"Thanks for the welcome."
Alice was next, stepping closer with narrowed eyes and furrowed brows.
"I couldn't trace you. At all. Like you blinked off the map. That doesn't happen—ever."
Her voice trembled at the edges.
"I know,"
He replied softly, the ghost of guilt flickering behind his eyes.
Freya gave him a subtle nod from beside Hayley and Klaus.
Nod~
By the look in her eyes, Jojo was sure she would have a long talk with him.
Inadu simply observed, her gaze sharp as glass, while Esme stepped forward and cupped his face gently like a mother would.
"You keep testing them, son-in-law."
She said with a faint smile, brushing a strand of ash from his cheek.
"One day they will test you back."
Jojo gave a faint chuckle, then turned toward Alaric—
Who stood stiff, arms crossed, his eyes flicking warily toward Klaus.
Chuckle~
"____"
"Don't start,"
Jojo warned quietly.
"We just got back."
Behind them, Damon leaned casually against a pillar, though the tightness in his jaw gave away the worry he refused to show.
Lizzie and Josie pushed past him to reach Caroline, who wrapped them into immediate, relieved hugs.
"It's okay,"
Caroline whispered into Josie's hair.
"We're back. We're all right."
Caroline nodded at Aleric as she let Lizzie crush her in an embrace.
"All of us."
As voices overlapped and emotions ran high, Jojo took one step back and let it wash over him.
PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE...
The old grandfather clock ticked steadily in the corner,
Casting long shadows on the wood-panelled walls.
Books lined every shelf, and the scent of parchment and aged leather filled the air.
Jojo stood at the far end of the room, arms crossed, flanked by Bonnie, Caroline, and Elena.
While others are looking at them for explanation.
Across from them sat Alaric behind his desk, stone-faced and silent.
"____"
Damon paced slowly near the fireplace, tension radiating off him like heat.
"I know it's hard to believe,"
Jojo began, voice even,
"But we didn't just vanish. We were caught in a temporal field—created by an artefact located in a house at Glore Valley."
"A temporal field?"
Alaric repeated, squinting.
"Time moved differently inside it,"
Bonnie added, nodding.
Nod~
"What felt like hours to us was actually three days in the real world."
Damon stopped pacing and turned to face Elena.
"And you thought going into a place like that—without powers—was smart?"
Elena didn't answer immediately.
"____"
She looked down, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.
"We weren't planning to fight,"
Caroline said, stepping in.
"We went to investigate a distress call that Jojo received. We became curious about his work, so we tagged along. It turned into something else."
The explanation continued.
"Yeah, Wendigos,"
Jojo said, voice low.
"A whole nest of them—created through forced transformation. Dr. Hill, a mad scientist, was running underground experiments. Starving people. Twisting them. Watching it all like it was some kind of show."
Alaric exhaled sharply.
"And he's dead now?"
Jojo nodded once.
Nod~
"Dead and burned. His data, too. No one's continuing that work."
Damon turned to Elena, eyes burning.
"But you could've been killed, Elena. You don't have magic anymore. You're human."
Elena looked up, steady.
"I know the risks. But Caroline, Bonnie and Jojo are with me, so I am safe."
Damon's fists clenched, his jaw tight.
"____"
"Next time you want to play hero, maybe remember you don't have vampire speed or strength anymore."
"Enough,"
Jojo cut in, his voice firm.
"Everyone came back alive. And more importantly, we saved someone who still has a future—someone who'll need our help."
There was a long silence.
"____"
"____"
"____"
The fire crackled behind Damon, casting wavering shadows across the walls.
Then Alaric leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled.
"So what now?"
"She's not a monster,"
He said quietly.
"Just someone who was forced to become one. I offered her a chance to learn. DMC can guide her… if she wants it."
Alaric nodded slowly.
Nod~
"Keep me updated. And next time, don't vanish into an alternate timeline without telling someone first."
Jojo smirked faintly.
Smrik~
"I'll send a postcard next time."
Damon didn't laugh.
He just turned away.
"____"
ONE WEEK LATER...
NEW ORLEANS – NIGHTFALL...
The city breathed with jazz and shadow, moonlight spilling across cobbled streets and ancient buildings draped in moss.
A breeze carried the scent of magnolias and bourbon as streetlights flickered under the weight of the coming night.
Inside a cosy, candlelit restaurant tucked into a quieter street corner, laughter danced between clinking glasses and whispered words.
INT. PRIVATE BOOTH – JOJO, ALICE, ROSALIE, FREYA – NIGHT
Jojo leaned back in the plush booth, sipping dark red wine, eyes flicking from Rosalie's teasing smirk to Alice's amused glance to Freya's quiet stare—
Guarded but content.
The night was meant to be a reprieve.
A breath after chaos.
"I still can't believe Klaus didn't try to bite anyone at the school."
Rosalie quipped, swirling her drink.
Jojo chuckled.
Chuckle~
"He was too busy glaring at Alaric to do anything else."
Alice leaned forward, eyes sparkling.
"So, no monster hunts, no curses, no near-death visions. Just… this. Feels unnatural."
Jojo shrugged, half-grinning.
"Even we get to breathe sometimes."
Freya hadn't said much.
She'd been watching the candle's flame, lost in its dance—
Until Jojo's hand gently covered hers.
Her eyes flicked to him, and something flickered behind them.
Gratitude… and warning.
LATER THAT NIGHT...
JOJO'S Mansion...
The windows were open, letting in the late-night breeze.
Jazz music drifted faintly from the streets below.
Inside, the lights were low.
Shadows wrapped the room like a veil.
Jojo was shirtless, standing by the dresser, removing his watch.
Freya didn't speak when she stepped into the room.
Her lips were tight, her brow furrowed—
Not in anger, but in a tension only Jojo could read.
She had smiled all night.
Laughed at Rosalie's jokes.
Teased Alice.
Sipped her wine like a goddess untouched by war.
But Jojo knew better.
And when her fingers pushed him onto the bed,
She climbed over him like a storm rolling in from the coast—
He understood.
"____"
This wasn't a desire for pleasure.
This was fear masquerading as dominance.
This was the need to feel something she could control… him.
Their mouths collided.
Desperate. Breathless.
As if she were trying to silence the scream stuck in her chest.
Jojo didn't resist.
He let her set the pace—
Fast, hard, frantic.
Fingernails scraped down his chest.
Legs wrapped tightly around his waist.
Her magic hummed against his skin like static.
"You're not allowed to die,"
She whispered between gasps, her forehead pressed against his.
"Not before me."
Jojo cupped her face, but she shook him off.
Not now. Not tenderness.
Tonight, she didn't want comfort.
She wanted a fight.
And Jojo gave it to her.
Not in anger, but in understanding—
Meeting every move, every claim, every thrust with presence.
Her body shook, not from exhaustion, but from everything she had refused to cry about.
As the night deepened, so did their rhythm—
Until it slowed.
Her lips softened.
Her breathing faltered.
And when she finally let him hold her,
When her head rested on his chest and he ran his fingers through her hair—
She whispered, barely audible.
"You don't get to vanish from me… Not like the others."
Jojo didn't reply.
"____"
He just pulled her closer, listening to her heartbeat steady.
Because in that moment, she didn't need promises.
She just needed him—
Alive, warm, and holding her like this is all she needed.
FORKS...
Jojo's Mansion...
Rain drizzled softly outside, mist curling against the windows of the isolated base nestled deep in the forests of Forks.
The glow of monitors cast a soft blue hue across the otherwise dim room.
Sara, the sleek AI assistant,
Her voice—clear, calm, and efficient—cut through the silence.
"New case logged under Paranormal Tier 1. Origin: Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Submitted via private encrypted channel. Probability of genuine metaphysical activity—74%. Recommending field investigation and possible recruitment."
Jenny, seated at the table, leaned forward.
Her eyes flicked across the screen as the file opened.
A boy.
Ten years old.
Name: Cole Sear.
Attached were scrawled digital notes and a scanned form—
Simple words, but chilling in tone:
"I see dead people. All the time. They talk to me. Some are angry. Some need help. I'm scared. Please."
Jenny's expression hardened.
"____"
It wasn't exaggerated.
It was truthful.
Beside her, Lorine sat with quiet grace, sipping her tea, half-listening until the words of the kid could see sprits caught her attention.
She set the mug down with a light clink and turned to the screen.
"That's not just any haunting… That's a child reaching out in the only way he knows how. Fear like that... doesn't lie."
She narrowed her eyes, reading the boy's psychological profile, which his mother had taken several times for counselling.
Her tone became thoughtful.
"And if he's really seeing them... we're not just looking at a potential case. We're looking at someone like us. A child born with a gift."
While Sara interjected while thinking about her bad memories.
"Or cursed by them."
Sara's voice returned with information.
"Local authorities dismissed the case as a child with trauma-induced hallucinations."
Jenny stood up, already pulling on her coat.
"I will go there. We leave within the hour."
Lorine smiled faintly.
"I'll pack salt, sage, and silver—just in case."
The screen dimmed as the file closed, the last image lingering for a heartbeat: Cole Sear's solemn face, staring into the camera, eyes tired and old beyond their years.
Jenny didn't hesitate.
With Lorrine and Leah accompanying her, the three women boarded a flight to Philadelphia.
They didn't approach the boy immediately.
Instead, they observed from a distance, careful not to disturb the rhythm of his routine.
For three days, they watched.
Jenny kept detailed notes while Lorrine silently sipped her tea at every stakeout spot, eyes sharp behind her glasses.
Leah remained alert, her instincts always reading the room—
Even from across the street.
They saw him flinch whenever a spirit passed nearby.
Once, he stopped mid-step, lowering his head as an elderly man brushed past him.
Muttering, gesturing toward the boy.
The man had no shadow.
No one else acknowledged him.
But the boy did.
"____"
He was tense—
Shoulders tight, eyes darting toward the corners where no one else seemed to exist.
"____"
"____"
Jenny narrowed her gaze, exchanging a brief glance with Lorrine, who gave a quiet nod.
There was no doubt anymore.
The boy, Cole Sear, could truly see the dead.
They followed him to his school and waited till today's classes ended.
The final bell rang, echoing through the school halls as students flooded out—
Chatting, laughing, pushing each other in playful chaos.
But Cole walked alone.
"____"
His steps were slow, his backpack slightly lopsided over one shoulder.
His eyes flicked toward the sidewalk cracks more often than the world around him.
Even the boy who sometimes sat with him at lunch had already run ahead, not even a glance back.
To them, Cole was strange.
Weird.
Broken.
He turned down the quieter street that led to his house, kicking at a loose pebble when suddenly—
Three figures stepped into his path.
He froze.
"____"
Three women stood before him like they had stepped out of some old mystery film—
Calm, composed, each carrying an air of quiet certainty that didn't belong to the ordinary world.
The one in the centre stepped forward.
She was tall, dressed in dark tones that mirrored the seriousness in her gaze.
She knelt slightly to meet his eyes without towering.
"Cole Sear?"
She asked gently.
He gave a small nod.
Nod~
"I'm Jenny. This is Leah, and that's Lorrine."
She said, motioning to the woman on her right with sharp features and alert eyes, and then to the other—
Calm, serene, sipping from a thermos like this was just another afternoon stroll.
"We're from DMC."
Jenny continued, her tone steady but warm.
"We received your report."
Cole blinked.
"You… what?"
"Your complaint,"
Leah added, folding her arms, watching the boy with quiet curiosity.
"About the ghosts. You filed it through the DMC portal."
The boy's mouth opened slightly, stunned.
"You… actually came?"
Jenny gave a faint smile.
"We don't ignore people like you, Cole."
And for the first time that day, the boy's eyes lifted—
Really lifted—
And something like hope flickered behind them.
Just across the street, a dusty blue sedan rolled to a slow stop at the curb.
Lynn Sear leaned forward behind the wheel, one hand still on the gearshift, her eyes narrowing as she caught sight of her son.
Cole was talking to three unfamiliar women.
They weren't from the neighbourhood.
They weren't teachers either.
And something about the way they stood—
Confident, composed, too focused on her son—
Sent a jolt of unease straight through her chest.
Her mind immediately snapped back to the news that morning.
A breaking segment on the TV.
"...Authorities are still investigating the surge in child abductions allegedly tied to an underground organ trafficking ring. Children are urged to avoid talking to strangers..."
Her grip tightened on the steering wheel.
The woman in the centre knelt down slightly, speaking softly to Cole—
Who looked surprised, but not scared.
Still, it wasn't enough to ease Lynn's rising panic.
Her motherly instinct screamed louder than logic.
"____"
She flung the car door open, not even bothering to close it behind her as she stormed across the street.
"Cole!"
She called out sharply.
The boy turned immediately, startled.
The three women looked up calmly—
But with no hint of surprise, as though they'd anticipated this exact reaction.
Lynn reached her son in seconds, pulling him protectively behind her as she faced the strangers with a glare.
"Who are you?"
She demanded, eyes flicking between them.
"Why are you talking to my son?"
Jenny didn't flinch.
She kept her posture relaxed but respectful, speaking in the same calm tone.
"Ma'am, my name is Jenny. This is Leah, and that's Lorrine. We're investigators with DMC. Your son filed a request for help through our official portal. We're here because he asked us to come."
Lynn's gaze flickered to Cole.
"____"
"You… filed what?"
Cole shrank slightly, guilt and hope tangling in his expression.
"I—I just wanted someone who believed me, Mom."
Lynn's eyes softened for a breath—
But only a breath.
She turned back to the women, arms folded.
"I don't care what organisation you say you're from. If you want to talk to my son, you're going to do it with me present. Or not at all."
Jenny nodded, offering a professional smile.
Nod~
"Of course. We'd expect nothing less from a protective mother."
There was a long pause.
Then Lynn sighed heavily.
Sigh~
"Fine. But we talk at our place. I don't like people standing around in the street like this."
Jenny exchanged a glance with Leah and Lorrine, then turned back.
**********************************************************************************************************************************************************
(Author's POV)
(A/N):
Thanks for reading the chapter!
Please give a review and power stone!!!