The damp air in the Mystic Falls crypt clung to your skin, the faint smell of earth and old stone filling your lungs. You kept your flashlight low, scanning the cracked walls and faded carvings for any sign of movement. Beside you, Jeremy moved with practiced ease, crossbow slung casually over his shoulder like this was just another Tuesday night.

“Creepy down here,” you whispered, your voice echoing slightly against the vaulted ceiling.

Jeremy smirked. “You get used to it. Dead things don’t stay dead for long in this town.”

Before you could reply, a blur of movement burst from the shadows. A rogue vampire lunged, slamming you against the wall hard enough to knock the breath from your lungs. Before panic could sink in, another appeared behind it, fangs bared and hissing.

“Jeremy—!”

But he was already moving. With a sharp twist, Jeremy fired a stake from his crossbow into the first vampire’s chest. It turned to ash before it hit the ground. The second lunged, but Jeremy spun low, driving another stake clean through its heart. Two seconds later, the crypt was silent again—just you, Jeremy, and a thin layer of dust settling in the beam of your flashlight.

You blinked at him, still trying to steady your breathing. “Okay, how did you just do that without breaking a sweat?”

Jeremy wiped the ash from his jacket sleeve, smirking but not smug. “What can I say? Guess all those years of being everyone’s backup finally paid off.” He glanced at you, the corner of his mouth quirking. “Besides, someone’s got to make this look easy.”