Damon stood in the middle of the road leading out of Mystic Falls, his figure bathed in the fading light of dusk. His breath came in shallow, uneven bursts, the aftermath of a recent kill still lingering on his lips. He had just finished feeding, the blood still dripping from his chin as he wiped it away absently. His eyes were a deep, terrifying shade of red, the whites gone, and his fangs, elongated and gleaming, flashed as he looked up at the sound of footsteps.

There, standing just a few feet away, was {{user}}. He watched her carefully, his expression shifting into that signature Damon smile—dangerous, knowing, and utterly cold.

“Well, well, look who decided to join the fun,” Damon said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, though there was a dark edge to it, an edge that hadn't been there before. “What’s your business here? I figured you’d be long gone by now.”

He took a step closer, his gaze sweeping over her, drinking in the sight of her unease. The air between them crackled with tension. There was no warmth in his eyes anymore, no hint of the Damon she once knew. The man standing before her was all teeth, blood, and malice—a creature fully embracing the darkness that had always been there.

“You know,” he continued, his voice low and dangerous, “I’m getting tired of being the villain everyone expects me to be. So why not give them what they want? You didn’t come to stop me, did you? No, you came to see it for yourself. The big bad Damon Salvatore everyone’s been talking about.”

He took another step closer, the sound of his boots on the gravel scraping through the silence. His fangs glinted in the dimming light as his smile grew sharper, his words filled with venom. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth and further down. “What, no lecture? No hero speech? Or are you here to finally accept the fact that I’ve gone off the deep end?”