Chapter 48: The Calm Before the Storm
The morning in Mystic Falls was colder than usual. Mist crept across the ground like ghosts slinking between the trees, whispering ancient secrets. The Salvatore house stood in watchful silence, as if its very walls were holding their breath, waiting for what was to come.
Alexander stood in the backyard, facing the woods, the rising sun behind him casting his shadow over the dewy grass. His shirt was damp with droplets of moisture, his hands clenched tightly at his sides. His jaw was tense with every breath, the strain in his muscles like a coiled spring on the verge of snapping.
The dream hadn't left him.
Not really.
Not the screams, nor the darkness, nor Elias' twisted smile as he dragged him—young and helpless—into the depths of the shadows. Not the sickening sound of bones breaking under unbearable pressure. Nor Katherine's laughter echoing in the background while her witch whispered spells that bound his soul to eternal pain.
Thirty years.
He didn't remember everything, but what he did… was enough.
The worst part? The silence. The isolation. To be stripped of everything—his identity, his family, his future—then reshaped into something hollow.
Until he escaped.
Until he stumbled, broken and half-dead, into Mystic Falls. And now… he was alive, but still haunted.
"Good morning," Stefan's voice came from behind him.
Alexander didn't turn, but the corner of his mouth lifted in a faint smile.
"How long have you been standing there?"
"Long enough to know you're not just enjoying the view."
A moment of silence passed.
Alexander spoke softly:
"I remember everything now. Almost. What he did to me... what she did... and what I became."
Stefan stepped closer until he stood beside him.
"And now what?"
"Now… it hurts."
They stood in stillness, the kind only brothers know—heavy with understanding, history, and unspoken worry.
Stefan said with certainty:
"We'll end this. Together."
"I know."
---
Inside, Damon stood by the breakfast table, examining an old journal belonging to one of Mystic Falls' witches—the very journal that contained the first mention of Elias Maro. Beside him, Alaric sat, rapidly taking notes.
"Here," Damon said, pointing to a small symbol etched in the margin. "This symbol. It appeared in Alexander's dream."
Alaric leaned in for a better look:
"It's a magical seal. Used in blood-binding rituals. Looks like Elias used it when Katherine's witch cast the curse."
Damon's jaw clenched:
"So they didn't just curse Alexander. They made sure he lost his memory... and was erased from existence."
Alaric said in a calm tone:
"And they almost succeeded. But they didn't count on Bonnie."
A proud smile tugged at Damon's lips:
"No one ever does."
Alexander entered, joining them at the table.
"We need to find Elias. What we killed before was just a shell. The real one is still out there. We need to find him—fast."
"I've sent feelers to my contacts," said Damon. "But he's good at hiding."
Alexander replied firmly:
"Not for long. Now... I remember everything. And I know where he'll go."
Alaric raised an eyebrow:
"Where?"
Alexander looked up, his eyes burning:
"The cave he locked me in. That's where it all started. And that's where it'll end. The place where we destroyed the shell was where he cursed me—but he tortured me somewhere else."
From the doorway, Bonnie entered quietly, her gaze going first to Alexander.
"Then we'll be ready."
Stefan followed her in, concealing a dagger inside his jacket.
"It's time to finish this bastard."
Damon grabbed his coat, a sharp look in his eyes:
"And remind him what happens when someone messes with the Salvatores."
Alexander looked at each of them. His family. His anchor.
"Let's end it."
---
The Next Morning
The morning air was thick with tension. The Salvatore house lay in an unusual hush, as if the very walls were holding their breath.
Alexander stood in the hallway, dressed all in black. His jaw was tight, his gaze fixed straight ahead like a man walking to his execution. He had made his decision.
Bonnie stood a few steps away near the front door, her arms crossed tightly. She looked at him as if she could stop him from leaving by sheer will alone.
She said quietly:
"You don't have to go alone. I should be there. I want to be there."
Alexander shook his head without meeting her eyes.
"You want to help. I know. But this is different, Bonnie."
She stepped closer and forced him to meet her gaze.
"I'm not afraid. And you know that."
He answered with a quiet, weighted voice:
"Neither am I. And that's the problem."
Her brow furrowed.
"What do you mean?"
He spoke, his voice nearly breaking under the weight of what he held inside:
"I'm not afraid of losing myself. Or of killing him. What really scares me is what I'll become when I do. And if you're there... if he touches you, or I hear you scream—I won't come back."
"Alexander…"
"I'll tear him apart and burn the ground beneath him. And I won't be able to stop myself."
She reached out and grabbed his hand tightly.
"You're not a monster."
He smiled faintly, bitterly.
"That's what monsters say… when they're trying to convince themselves they're still human."
She took a deep breath.
"Then let me remind you. Let me fight beside you."
But he gently pulled his hand away, placing his palm tenderly on her cheek.
"You already did. You saved me from hell, Bonnie. Let me return the favor… by keeping you away from it."
Before she could speak again, Damon's voice rang from the living room:
"Alexander! It's time."
Alexander gave Bonnie one last look—a silent goodbye—then turned and left.
---
Stefan leaned against the passenger-side door of the car as Damon closed the trunk after loading the last of the weapons.
"I'm still not convinced this is a good idea," Stefan muttered. "Going without the others…"
Damon slammed the door shut:
"It's not like we're taking a parade. This is our fight… with Elias. It always has been."
Alexander joined them moments later, his face hard as stone.
Damon raised an eyebrow.
"Everything okay?"
"She's staying," Alexander replied.
"Bonnie?" Stefan asked. "You told her not to come?"
Alexander nodded.
"But why?" Damon said. "You know how strong she is."
Alexander spoke quietly:
"I know. But she's not fast enough. Not immortal. And if something happens to her while I'm fighting Elias…"
Stefan tilted his head:
"You think you might lose control?"
"No," Alexander answered firmly. "I know I will."
Silence fell, the weight of his words filling the air.
"I've been holding this fire in my chest for years without knowing," he continued. "Now I know who lit it. And it's time to put it out."
Damon exhaled slowly:
"And if you can't?"
"I will."
---
The forest on the outskirts of Mystic Falls was drenched in heavy silence—a silence that clung to the skin like humidity before a storm. The brothers stepped out of the car, weapons strapped to their backs, Alexander's eyes glowing with an unnatural flicker.
Stefan tightened his grip on a silver stake.
"Any sign of him?"
Alexander looked around:
"He's here. Waiting."
"Why is he waiting?" Damon asked.
"Because he wants me to find him," Alexander answered. "He wants it to be personal."
As they moved deeper into the forest, Stefan finally spoke what had been on his mind:
"What happens after you kill him?"
Alexander didn't stop walking.
"Then… it all ends."
Damon frowned.
"You think you'll be free after that?"
Alexander shot a sharp look over his shoulder.
"I know."
Stefan hesitated.
"And if you're wrong?"
"Then bury me next to whoever dies with him."
---
After a long, long search—so long it felt to the three of them like they'd been searching for a century—
They found him…
He stood in a clearing under a gnarled, ancient tree, Elias Maro. His black coat fluttered slightly in the breeze, his eyes black as scorched ash. Burning… empty.
He spoke with a wicked smile:
"So, the Salvatore boys came to dance."
Alexander stepped forward.
"No dancing today. Just your death."
Elias eyed him.
"You've grown. I remember how you used to scream every night in that cage."
Damon's fists clenched. Stefan's jaw tightened.
Elias continued, circling them slowly:
"You remember the cage… the chains… the dreams I ripped from you. The soul I burned to ash."
Alexander said nothing, just kept moving forward until only a breath's distance separated them.
Finally, he said:
"I remember your face. But I don't remember being afraid."
Elias smirked:
"Oh, you were. You just forgot. I made sure of it."
Alexander whispered:
"Let me remind you," then punched him so hard the trees behind Elias shook from the force.
---
The battle erupted like lightning in a storm. Stefan and Damon lunged with weapons gleaming under the dim light, while Alexander became something else entirely—fast, savage, unforgiving.
Elias fought like a beast born of ancient magic. Shadows poured from his fingertips, forming blades and claws. Every move was meant to kill.
Over the years, Elias had absorbed the souls and energy of the creatures he captured and tortured—
His magic.
Werewolves.
Vampires.
Any creature he caught.
He drained their power for longer life and greater strength.
Now he was fighting with it.
But Alexander didn't falter.
He dodged blows, twisted, struck back with a force that shook the earth. Every hit was a scream from the past, every punch a memory avenged.
Damon was slammed into a tree, blood on his lips. Stefan took a deep wound to his arm but kept fighting.
Alexander didn't even notice them. His focus was absolute. His rage… sacred.
"You tortured a child," he growled, slamming Elias with a rock. "You erased my family."
Elias laughed, blood dripping from his mouth:
"Yet... you came back broken. A curse on two legs."
Alexander roared, driving his fist into Elias' chest—but Elias vanished into shadow, reappearing behind him and hurling a black flame that struck his back.
Alexander fell to one knee, but didn't stop. Didn't scream.
Elias whispered from behind:
"You forgot... you're no hero. You're my creation."
Alexander rose slowly.
And said with steady finality:
"No… I'm your end."
.
.
.
.
You can contact me through my official page on the following Accounts:
telegram:
miraclenarrator
tiktok:
miracle_narrator
instagram:
miracle_narrator