Chapter 52: Hunters and Vampires
The morning sun was sluggish in its rise over Mystic Falls, sending warm rays through the curtains of the Salvatore house, where traces of the previous night's party still lingered: empty cups scattered across the tables, a tilted banner that read "Finally Free," and the scent of champagne mingled with a faint magic that crept through the air.
Alexander was the first to wake, sitting silently in the kitchen sipping a glass of water, when a loud, insistent knock echoed through the front door.
Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.
Alexander furrowed his brows, staring toward the door. "Someone's lost their patience," he muttered irritably.
When he opened it, his expression froze in surprise. Standing before him were two men, their clothes layered with dust, their eyes sharp and alert, radiating the familiar aura of monster hunters.
"Dean Winchester," Alexander said with a small, side-smile. "Still driving that metal beast?"
Dean laughed. "Her name's Impala, man. Show some respect."
"Alexander," Sam greeted calmly, extending a hand to shake. "It's been a while."
Alexander shook his hand firmly, then looked between them with sharp curiosity. "What the hell are you two doing in Mystic Falls?"
Dean shrugged indifferently. "First, we heard there was a party… and second," he tilted his head slightly, "we've got a problem. And you're the only damn one who might understand it."
Alexander sighed coolly. "Let me guess… ghosts, demons, or cursed angels?"
"Worse," Dean said, stepping inside. "Let us in. We need to talk."
---
A few minutes later
Stefan was the next to wake, hair still tousled, eyes half-closed as he walked into the living room. He froze when he saw Alexander speaking with strangers.
"Alexander? Who are these—?"
Alexander interrupted, "Stefan, these... are old friends. Sam and Dean Winchester."
Stefan slowly furrowed his brow. "Wait… the Winchesters? The hunters?"
Dean nodded with a side-smile. "Yep. Heard of us?"
Damon's voice rang from the top of the stairs. "Who hasn't?" He descended slowly, half-dressed, holding a half-full bottle of bourbon. "You're the guys who nearly killed an archangel, kicked off the apocalypse, and still walk around like it's a Sunday stroll."
Dean raised an eyebrow. "Hey, we stopped the apocalypse, genius."
Alexander chuckled lightly. "Guys, meet the Salvatore brothers. Damon, the charming disaster. Stefan, the cautious one."
Sam stepped forward. "Nice to meet you both. We didn't come to stir up trouble."
Damon narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You're hunters in a vampire town. Sounds like trouble's already invited."
Alexander raised a hand to calm things down. "They didn't come to hunt. They came to help."
---
Later that morning – Salvatore Library
The five gathered around the large table, now covered with maps, papers, and folders, like an FBI operation. Dean opened a worn, leather-bound journal.
"This was our father's. The first hunter… John Winchester. He wrote about some ritual, an ancient blood curse. Back then, we thought it was just a myth. But we found something… new."
He slid over a photo. A seal drawn in blood. Alexander's stomach twisted the moment his eyes fell on it.
"I know this symbol," he whispered.
Damon and Stefan leaned in closer to see.
"What is it?" Stefan asked anxiously.
"This is Elias' work," Alexander said, voice unsteady. "He used it… when he tortured me. It was carved into the cell walls."
Sam nodded grimly. "It's appeared again. The same symbols, up north in New York. And with them, bodies. Lots of them. Burned from the inside."
Damon's face darkened. "You think Elias is back?"
"No," Dean said. "We checked. Alexander really did kill him this time, but… we think someone's continuing what he started. Followers, maybe. Or something worse."
Alexander slowly rubbed his chin. "That doesn't make sense. That curse ended when I killed him. It can't be recreated."
"Unless," Sam said, "they found something else. A way to turn it into a weapon."
Silence fell.
"Great," Damon muttered sarcastically. "So we're hopping in the Impala to play Scooby-Doo chasing a cursed cult?"
Dean smirked. "You said Scooby-Doo, bloodsucker."
Alexander leaned forward, his expression serious. "If someone's using Elias' legacy to hurt people, we stop them. I'm in."
Stefan nodded confidently. "Me too."
Damon sighed, rolling his eyes. "Guess I'm in as well. Can't let you hog all the glory."
Dean glanced at his brother, then smiled. "Looks like we've got a team."
---
The road stretched ahead of them, cutting through thick forests veiled in early morning mist, a grey and somber scene like a faded memory. The black car glided smoothly over the asphalt, silence reigning within — a silence heavy with past burdens and a mission darker than any they'd faced.
Dean Winchester drove with one hand, gripping a large coffee cup with the other, its warmth long gone. His face was tense, eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses, even though the sun barely peeked through the trees.
Beside him sat Sam, flipping through an old, tattered notebook. Its pages were yellowed, margins covered with symbols written in a mix of Latin and an older… darker tongue.
In the backseat sat the Salvatore brothers and Alexander, each showing their tension in different ways. Damon leaned against the window, brow furrowed, eyes tracking the vanishing trees. Stefan sat at the other end, tapping his knee with a nervous rhythm. Between them, Alexander sat rigid, face expressionless, hands clasped tightly in his lap.
It had only been a few hours since the Winchesters knocked on the Salvatore door, bringing with them old memories, heavy warnings, and a case all too close to scars that hadn't yet healed.
Damon spoke, breaking the silence:
"Remind me again what you found."
Sam looked back and said:
"We found a body in a nearby town—killed in a ritualistic way. Heart removed, the symbol carved into the neck. And when I saw the mark, I knew immediately this wasn't the work of some random cult. It's the exact symbol we saw only once before."
Alexander's voice came low, sharp:
"Elias Marrow."
Dean nodded. "Last time we saw that mark, it was decades ago. And back then, Alexander wasn't exactly on speaking terms with the living."
Alexander replied, his tone ice-cold:
"I remember… barely. But I remember enough to know that whoever's using that mark now isn't playing around."
Sam said:
"They're definitely not. We tracked a series of similar crimes across the South. Same rituals, same symbols. All pointing to a cult that believes Elias can be brought back."
Stefan said quietly:
"They don't just believe… they're trying to."
Dean let out a dry laugh:
"Oh, it gets better—blood analysis at every site? Matches people missing from Mystic Falls."
Damon turned sharply, eyes blazing:
"You're saying they're taking people from our town?"
Sam answered:
"That's what it looks like. And we think they're close to finishing the ritual."
Silence fell once more in the car. The forest thickened as they veered off the main road, following a dirt path mapped in one of Sam's files.
Alexander finally spoke, voice calm but filled with fury:
"If Elias returns—if they succeed in bringing him back in any form—it won't just be Mystic Falls that suffers. He'll tear this world apart. He learned things in death… things he shouldn't know."
Dean frowned, glancing at him through the mirror:
"You think he came back worse?"
Alexander's eyes narrowed:
"He died. And returned from beyond death. Whatever comes back… it won't be human. Or vampire. Or even demon. It'll be something far worse. I mean, look at me — I came back stronger. Imagine what a monster like him would become."
Stefan said firmly:
"Then we stop them before they finish what they started."
The car finally pulled up to a collapsed church deep in the woods. The wood was rotting, the ground littered with black leaves reeking of old blood. They stepped out one by one, silence surrounding them, weapons hidden under coats, danger written in every step.
As they approached the church, Sam murmured:
"There's a ward here. Old… but still active."
Alexander stepped forward, raising a hand in the air:
"A cursed fire barrier… they're expecting someone. But not us."
He released a burst of dark red energy from his palm, sparks crackling through the air. Damon and Stefan watched cautiously, even Dean didn't hide his surprise.
Dean said as he watched:
"Looks like you've learned some new tricks."
Alexander answered with a grim smile:
"I died. Then came back. You'd be surprised what that teaches you." Then he thrust his hand forward, and the barrier shattered like broken glass.
They entered the ruins of the church. The floor was stained with old blood, bones arranged in a horrifying pattern at the center, candles still glowing faintly around the edges. Strange symbols were carved into the stones at the back, like claw marks.
Sam muttered as he crouched to examine the bones:
"This is real… a full ritual."
Dean kicked a crumbling skull. "Looks like they were in the middle of it."
Damon stood near the entrance, examining the symbols with narrowed eyes:
"These are summoning marks… they're trying to bring something forth."
Alexander stepped to the center of the blood circle, staring at the ground with a pale face:
"This isn't just a summoning…" he whispered. "It's a key. They're trying to open Elias' final tomb. He left behind a part of himself… something they need."
Sam's eyes widened:
"A soul vessel?"
Alexander replied:
"No. A soul tether. Something that kept his essence suspended between life and death. I destroyed his body… but the tether survived. He hid it from me, buried it somewhere I couldn't reach."
Stefan asked:
"So what do we do?"
Alexander looked at them, his eyes burning with determination:
"We find the tether. And destroy it before they use it."
Dean cracked his knuckles:
"Now this is a plan I can get behind."
And as they ventured deeper into the ruins of the church, none of them noticed the black shadow watching from between the trees—eyes gleaming with the last light of dusk.
The cult knew they were coming.
And they were ready.
---
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