Catastrophe | Damon Salvatore [3] ✔️

n i n e t e e n

Chapter Nineteen

Sighing, I sat back on the black leather couch, crossing my legs on the coffee table in front of me. I twirled the sharp knife around my fingers, whistling as I waited impatiently for the next white oak stake to be thrown at me.

"I have to give it to you, Damon." I say, thinking a bit about my words before I spit them out. "I never thought you'd use that brain of yours."

Damon laughs sarcastically before his face falls blankly and he sends me a glare. I laugh, winking at him as I grab the stake that Stefan handed me. I start scraping the end of the wood stake, making a sharper point for it.

Apparently, the Wickery Bridge was made out of a white oak tree. Rebekah burned down all the wood so there were zero chances to kill the Originals. But, Damon found the sign of the Wickery Bridge which was also made out the white oak tree.

So now we were making white oaks stakes from the white oak Wickery Bridge sign. It's a complicated activity but we have to do it in order to kill the Originals.

Stefan and Alaric are cutting the sign into smaller pieces for a stake. Damon is turning the wood planks into a stake. And my job is to sharpen the stakes.

I sigh, wiping the sweat from my forehead using the back of my hand. "I guess I don't need to workout today." I mutter, pursing my lips as Damon throws me a stake from across the room.

I catch it, rolling my eyes at him as I start scraping once again. "Ugh my arms - "

"Stop complaining, Emilia." Damon grumbles, "We're almost done."

I scoff, "Says the dickhead."

"What did you call me?"

"I called dickhead. Why? Got a problem with that Damon?"

Damon stands up but Stefan gets in the way and sighs. "Please stop fighting like little babies. We've got work to do and if it's not done, then god knows what might happen."

I huff, falling back on the couch before I send one last death glare to Damon. "Alright, wise Stefan." I mumble, grabbing another stake that Damon throws at me before I start scraping.

"Looks like you guys have got this under control. I'm gonna call the Sheriff." Alaric says, pulling on his jacket. The three of us turn to look at Alaric with a confused look. "I want to turn myself in."

"You want to what?" I ask, sitting on the edge of the couch as I stare eyes wide at Alaric. "Who in their right mind would want to turn their self in?"