[Location: Whitmore College – Maxfield's Lab] [Time: 4:15 PM – The Day After the Party]
The microscope hummed, a low, steady vibration that felt like the only honest thing in my life.
I adjusted the focus knob. On the slide was a smear of Tyler Lockwood's blood, stained with a purple reagent I had synthesized from Dr. Maxfield's stock.
To the naked eye, it was just human blood. But under 400x magnification, the anomaly was screaming at me.
The white blood cells weren't round. They were... aggressive. They had jagged edges, almost like thorns. They moved with a frenetic energy that defied standard biology.
"The Lycanthrope Gene," I whispered, scribbling notes in my encrypted journal.
In The Vampire Diaries, being a werewolf is treated as a mystical curse triggered by killing a human. But here, looking at the cellular level, I saw it for what it was: A dormant virus.
The gene was there, waiting. It was like a loaded gun. The act of killing someone didn't just "magically" activate it; the adrenaline and specific hormonal dump of taking a life must act as the chemical catalyst that unlocks the transformation.
This was crucial.
If I wanted to become an Upgraded Original, I needed the venom of all seven packs. Tyler carried the gene of one pack (likely the North East Atlantic Pack).
Hypothesis: If I can isolate the catalyst—the chemical signal that turns the "human" cells into "wolf" cells—I might be able to extract venom from a werewolf without them having to turn into a wolf. Or, I could force a transformation in a controlled environment.
I pipetted the blood sample into a cryo-vial and placed it in the deep freeze, labeled "Subject L - Dormant."
I closed the freezer. The cold air hit my face, refreshing me.
I checked my phone. Three missed texts.
From: Dad Logan Fell is stopping by tonight. Wants to interview us about the "New Mystic Falls." Be home by 6.
My stomach dropped.
Logan wasn't coming for an interview. He was coming for the Gilbert Watch. He hadn't bought my story at the party. He was coming to toss my room while pretending to interview my parents.
I grabbed my backpack. I had to get home. I had to plant the decoy.
[Location: The Cross Residence – Living Room] [Time: 6:30 PM]
The house smelled of lemon polish. My mother was nervous. Being interviewed by the local news anchor felt like a big deal to her.
I sat on the couch, wearing a clean shirt, looking like the picture of teenage innocence.
The doorbell rang.
Dad answered it. "Logan! Good to see you. Come in."
Logan Fell walked in. He was wearing a sharp suit, holding a notepad. But his eyes were scanning the room like a predator. He wasn't a vampire yet, but he had the soul of one.
"Robert, Sarah," Logan smiled, shaking hands. Then he looked at me. "And the young historian. Adrian."
"Mr. Fell," I nodded politely.
"Please, call me Logan. 'Mr. Fell' makes me sound like my grandfather." He sat in the armchair opposite me. "So, Robert tells me you've been helping him secure the house? New locks? Deadbolts?"
"Just precaution," my dad said. "With the animal attacks..."
"Smart," Logan said. He looked at me. "You know, Adrian, I was thinking about that watch you mentioned. The broken one."
Here it comes.
"The one I scrapped?" I asked.
"The Council is putting together a time capsule," Logan lied smoothly. "Even broken pieces of Gilbert history are valuable. I'd love to take a look at it. Maybe we can restore it."
He was pushing. If I refused, he'd know I was hiding it.
"Sure," I said, standing up. "I think the pieces are still in a box in the garage. Let me go check."
"I'll come with you," Logan said, standing up instantly. "I love a good workshop."
It was aggressive. He wasn't letting me out of his sight.
"Okay," I said, keeping my cool. "Follow me."
We walked through the kitchen to the garage door.
I opened it. The garage was cool and cluttered.
I walked over to my workbench. I had staged it perfectly an hour ago.
On the table was a cardboard box filled with random junk—old spark plugs, wires, and the smashed remains of the decoy watch I had bought on eBay. The face was shattered, the gears bent and scattered.
"Here," I said, pointing to the mess. "Like I said. I stripped the screws and kind of... rage-quit the project."
Logan walked over. He picked up the casing. It looked like the Gilbert Device—silver, etched pattern. But it was empty.
He picked up a bent gear.
He looked at me. His expression was hard to read. Disappointment? Anger?
"You really did a number on it," Logan muttered.
"I'm not a watchmaker," I shrugged. "Sorry. Is it still worth putting in a time capsule?"
Logan dropped the casing back into the box. "No. It's trash."
He dusted his hands off. He looked at me, his eyes narrowing. He was looking for a tell. A bead of sweat. A twitch.
I gave him nothing but a bored, apologetic teenager stare.
"Shame," Logan said coldly. "We really could have used it."
"Used it for what?" I asked innocently. "Telling time?"
Logan forced a smile. It looked like a grimace. "Something like that."
He turned and walked back into the house.
I let out a breath I had been holding for five minutes.
He bought it. Or at least, he accepted that the object in the box was useless.
He didn't know the Real Watch—the one wired with a piezoelectric buzzer—was currently taped to the underside of my bed frame upstairs.
[Location: Mystic Falls High – History Classroom] [Time: 10:00 AM – The Next Day]
We had a substitute teacher. Mr. Tanner was dead, buried under a "mountain lion attack" story that everyone knew was fake but no one questioned.
Alaric Saltzman wouldn't arrive for a few more episodes. For now, we had Mrs. Halpern, who put on a movie and sat at her desk reading a magazine.
I sat next to Stefan.
He looked exhausted. Dark circles, tension in his jaw. The "Vegetarian" diet was hard when there was so much blood in the air.
"You look like hell," I whispered, keeping my eyes on the TV screen.
"Didn't sleep," Stefan murmured. "Damon is... restless. He's bored. A bored Damon is dangerous."
"Has he killed anyone else?" I asked.
"No. He's feeding on... locals. Snatch, eat, erase. He's keeping the body count down."
"How noble of him," I said dryly.
I slid a piece of paper onto Stefan's desk. It wasn't notes. It was a drawing I had made from memory.
It was a sketch of the Crystal.
"Stefan," I whispered. "I saw Caroline with this the other night. She said Damon gave it to her."
Stefan looked at the drawing. He frowned. "That's an old amber talisman. It was in my father's collection."
"Why would Damon give it to a cheerleader?" I asked. "Is it magical?"
Stefan stared at the paper. "Damon doesn't do jewelry unless it serves a purpose. If he gave it to Caroline, he needs it close to the Founding Families. Or..."
"Or he needs a witch to touch it?" I suggested.
Stefan looked at me sharply. "Why do you say that?"
"Because Bonnie has it now," I dropped the bomb. "Caroline lost it. Bonnie found it. She said it 'called' to her."
Stefan's eyes widened. "If Bonnie has it, and Damon finds out..."
"Damon will kill her," I finished. "Or use her."
"I have to get it from her," Stefan said, starting to stand up.
"Sit down," I hissed, grabbing his arm. "If you take it, Bonnie will ask questions. She's already suspicious of you because she gets 'bad vibes' when you touch her. If you demand the necklace, she'll think you're the villain."
Stefan sat back down. "So what do we do?"
"Let her keep it," I said. "For now. She's safe. Damon thinks it's lost. If you take it, Damon might smell it on you. Let Bonnie hide it. Her magic might even mask it."
Stefan studied me. "You think about this a lot, don't you? Tactics. Angles."
"I play chess," I lied. "And I don't like losing pieces."
Stefan nodded slowly. "Okay. We leave it with Bonnie. But if Damon gets close to her..."
"I'll let you know," I promised.
[Location: The Mystic Grill] [Time: 7:00 PM]
I was sitting in a booth with Elena and Bonnie. I was firmly embedding myself in the "Inner Circle."
We were eating fries. The vibe was surprisingly normal.
"So," Elena said, dipping a fry in ketchup. "Stefan asked me to the bonfire tomorrow."
"Aww," Bonnie cooed. "He is so into you."
"He's intense," Elena admitted. "But... good intense. He makes me feel safe."
Safe, I thought. He's a Ripper who is one bad day away from tearing your throat out. But sure.
"He seems solid," I said. "Better than the guys who peaked in middle school."
Suddenly, the door to the Grill opened.
My pocket buzzed.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
I stiffened. The signal was strong.
I looked up.
It wasn't Damon. And it wasn't Stefan.
It was Logan Fell.
He walked in, looking pale. He was sweating. He was wearing sunglasses at night.
He went straight to the bar.
My watch was vibrating like crazy.
Logan is a vampire.
Wait. The timeline was wrong. In the show, Damon kills Logan after Logan stakes Stefan with the compass. That happens after the watch is activated.
Unless...
Unless Damon got bored. Or Logan got stupid.
I watched Logan. He grabbed a glass of water from the bar and downed it. Then he looked around the room.
His eyes landed on Jenna, who was sitting at a table grading papers.
He started walking toward her.
"Excuse me," I said to the girls. "I need a refill."
I stood up and walked toward the bar, intercepting Logan's path.
I needed to verify.
As I passed Logan, I "accidentally" bumped into him.
"Whoops, sorry man," I said.
My hand brushed his arm.
It was cold. Room temperature.
And on his wrist, I saw it. A watch? No.
I saw a bite mark. Fresh. Healing.
He wasn't a vampire yet. He had vampire blood in his system. He was in transition. Or he had been fed on and left for dead, but survived.
Logan looked at me. He looked erratic. Paranoid.
"Watch it, kid," he snapped.
He pushed past me and sat down opposite Jenna.
"Jenna," Logan said, his voice desperate. "I need you to invite me over tonight. I have to show you something."
Jenna looked up, annoyed. "Logan, we broke up years ago. I'm not inviting you in."
"Please," Logan begged. "I don't have anywhere else to go. My house... it's not safe."
He hasn't turned yet, I realized. But he knows something is hunting him.
Damon must have attacked him, fed him blood (maybe to turn him later?), and Logan escaped. Now he was running.
If Jenna invited him in, and he died in her house... he would wake up as a vampire in the Gilbert house. With Elena and Jeremy.
I couldn't let that happen.
I walked over to their table.
"Jenna!" I said brightly. "Sorry to interrupt. But Jeremy is outside. He locked his keys in his car again. He needs your spare."
Jenna groaned. "Seriously? That kid." She looked at Logan. "I have to go. No, Logan. The answer is no."
She stood up and walked away.
Logan sat there, trembling. He looked at me with pure hatred.
"You," he spat. "You little interruptions..."
"You look sick, Logan," I said coldly. "Maybe you should go to the hospital. Or the morgue."
Logan stared at me. His eyes were bloodshot.
"I know what's happening in this town," Logan whispered. "I know about the monsters. And I'm going to kill them all."
He stood up and stumbled out the back door.
I watched him go.
He was going to steal the Gilbert Watch. He was going to find the compass.
I put my hand in my pocket and felt the real watch.
"Good luck finding it, Logan," I whispered.
I had neutralized the threat to the Gilbert house for tonight. But Logan was a loose cannon.
I needed to find Damon. And for the first time... I needed to give him a tip.
[End of Chapter 12]