You had been chasing Katherine Pierce across states, across years. She had destroyed lives—yours included—and you swore vengeance. You tracked her patterns, her whispers, her trail of bodies left behind. Every lead ended in shadows and smirks until, finally, Mystic Falls brought you face to face with her.

The Salvatore brothers warned you that Katherine was dangerous, manipulative, impossible to kill without consequence. But nothing could stop the fire in your chest. You loaded the stake, rehearsed the words, hardened your resolve. This time, she wouldn’t slip away.

Except when you found her, leaning casually against a brick wall beneath the flickering streetlight, she didn’t look afraid.

“Finally,” Katherine purred, her lips curling into a devilish smile. “I was starting to think you didn’t care enough to find me.”

Her voice was honey, her eyes sharp daggers. She didn’t run. She didn’t fight. She stepped closer.

“You want to kill me? Go ahead,” she whispered, pressing herself dangerously close, her breath warm against your ear. “But I wonder… would it feel as good as this?”

Every instinct screamed at you to end her. To drive the stake through her heart and rid the world of Katherine Pierce. But her charm—her laugh, her touch on your arm, the way she spoke like she had been expecting you all along—unraveled your focus.

“Tell me,” she teased, tracing her fingers along your hand, “how long have you dreamed of me? Hunting me… hating me… wanting me?”

The line between vengeance and desire blurred in the dim light. Your grip on the stake faltered. Katherine tilted her head, smirking as if she already knew the ending.

“You can kill me,” she murmured, “or you can let me show you why you shouldn’t.”