» 11/6/2022 - stefan x mate oc x damon poly « (THE WONDERLING SERIES: book 1)
Arwen Steele was pretty much someone who didn't really understand the vampire diaries TV show but watched it anyway, she knew the names and where they were, but Arwen was...
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ARWEN'S EYES SNAPPED open at the sound of a creaking door, and unwelcome goosebumps shivered down her spine like a wildfire. Her fingers gripped tighter to the bedsheets, trying to see through the blackness of her room with wide, stretching eyes. What the fuck was that?
Immediately, her brain came up with images of terrifying monsters, spooky ghosts or any other sort of paranormal demonic creature that could be waiting for her right outside her bedroom door. Arwen's imagination had always gotten the best of her in these sorts of things, so she often scared herself shitless when it came to being in the dark.
Arwen dramatically rolled her eyes at her own childishness and sat up. It was still dark outside her bedroom window. The world outside was oddly quiet and the room was almost pitch-black if it weren't for the light that peaked from the crack in the slightly ajar door. Slightly creepy and... strange.
An unsettling feeling made Arwen bite her bottom lip. She never leaves her bedroom door open at night. Not even a little bit. She preferred sleeping in the pitch black (despite her childish fears), so why in the hell was her bedroom door open unless someone had come inside? The thought caused her heart to drop with deep dread.
Yeah, naur, I was not made for this horror movie shit. Arwen pulled the covers back in denial, wincing at the coldness that rushed across her body. Her mind screamed for her to go back into bed and huddle under the warm blankets, but something else made her walk over to her door and slowly pull it open.
The wonderling blinked, puzzled. What the fuck?
This wasn't Sheila's upstairs hallway. The walls that used to be painted white were now made of rich, carved wood with polished dark floorboards draped in dark red carpet. Dim, yet warm lights were turned on along the long hallway and Arwen could spot familiar renaissance-style paintings hung up here and there. It was when she saw those that she knew exactly where she was. Only one place around town was this gaudy and majestic. Arwen let out an uneasy groan.
Being in the Salvatore Boarding House again was a little nerve-wracking to say the least. Arwen had only been here a couple of times, and she still gets goosebumps and a fluttery feeling in her chest when inside. But why the hell was her room from Sheila's house in the Salvatore brothers' upstairs hallway? This was making no fucking sense.
Then again, she thought to herself. Nothing makes sense to me nowadays.
"Uh, guys?" Arwen called to no one in particular. Maybe either Damon or Stefan. She couldn't be sure which one would be around right now though. She didn't even know what the time was. "Anyone awake?"
Only silence answered. Welp, that's just great. Either they were asleep or just weren't home.
Involuntary shivers rushed through her body at the chilly air, which made Arwen outwardly cringe. Though she wondered, in the back of her mind, about her very strange bedroom situation, she couldn't help but lose track of that mystery as if it was like trying to catch fog with her bare hands. Instead, Arwen started to walk down the hallway and towards the stairs that led down into the parlour. Why? Who knows. At this point her legs were just taking her places, and she strangely just wasn't really processing anything very clearly at the moment.
