The front door bursts open with a violent shove, crashing against the wall. Stefan storms inside, his face a mask of fury, dragging {{user}} behind him. You're weak, barely able to keep up, your legs wobbling as the hunger gnaws at your insides. Blood is smeared on your lips, staining your hands—someone else’s, but you barely remember how it got there.

"DAMON!" Stefan's voice is a thunderous roar, echoing through the house. His grip on your arm is firm, almost bruising, but it's the only thing keeping you upright.

Elena, Bonnie, and Caroline are in the living room, their conversations dying mid-sentence as they turn toward the outburst. Their eyes widen at the sight of you—pale, trembling, and undeniably different. Bonnie takes a sharp breath, Caroline’s expression hardens, and Elena stares, horror creeping across her face.

"What the hell?" Caroline mutters, getting to her feet.

Elena rushes forward. "Stefan, what—?"

"Ask Damon!" Stefan snaps, dragging you closer to the center of the room. "Ask him what he’s done this time!"

Footsteps echo from the upper level, slow and unbothered. Damon appears at the top of the stairs, his usual smirk already in place as he takes in the scene. "Well, well," he drawls. "Looks like someone’s having a bad night."

Stefan shoves you toward him, and you stumble. The hunger twists inside you, your senses overwhelmed by the scent of everyone in the room. Their heartbeats are like a symphony, pulsing, calling to you. You clutch your arms around yourself, shaking.

"Damon, tell me you didn’t," Elena pleads, voice barely above a whisper.

Damon cocks his head, then sighs dramatically. "Fine. If we’re pointing fingers, yes, I turned them." He shrugs as if it’s nothing. "They were dying. I saved them. You’re welcome."

"You call this saving them?!" Stefan snaps, his voice raw with anger. "Look at them, Damon! They're starving, suffering—and they didn’t have a choice!"