The Mystic Falls Boarding House sat like a gothic painting at the end of a winding road — ivy-covered, eerie, but oddly welcoming. Malik hadn't planned on landing there, but Mrs. Flowers, the sweet old woman who ran the town's smallest inn, told him it was cheap, quiet, and had "a big-ass bathtub."
Sold.
The house had charm, he'd give it that. But something about it felt… preserved. Like time moved around it, not through it.
The owner — an old guy named Zach Salvatore — had given Malik a curious once-over when he showed up.
"You just passing through?" Zach asked.
Malik gave him that grin that got him through airport security with no questions. "Maybe. Town's got a vibe. Could be a good reset."
Zach studied him a second too long before nodding and showing him to a guest room upstairs. No questions. But definitely questions.
Malik dropped his duffel on the bed and stood in front of the mirror. He looked tired. Not the sleepy kind. The worn-through-the-soul kind.
"You ever feel like you're walking into something bigger than you?" he muttered to his reflection.
He didn't get an answer.
But behind him — just for a second — the lights flickered.
🕓 Later That Day…
Downtown Mystic Falls was like a Hallmark movie if you added a splash of teenage attitude and took away cell service. Malik walked the streets, learning faces, catching glances.
The people were… polite.
Too polite.
"First day and you're already being stared at?"
The voice came from a bench near the clocktower. A girl, maybe his age, book in hand, legs crossed like she owned the sidewalk.
Light brown skin. Curly hair pulled into a bun. Glasses sliding down her nose. She looked up over the top of the book like she'd seen something Malik hadn't.
He raised an eyebrow. "You keep staring at me, too."
"Difference is, I'm not pretending I'm not."
He laughed. "Okay, okay. I respect that. I'm Malik."
"Jade," she said, closing her book. "You're not from here."
"Wow. What gave it away? The outsider energy or the better taste in clothes?"
"Both," she said with a small smirk. "Let me guess — looking for a fresh start?"
He nodded slowly. "How'd you know?"
"Everyone who stays in Mystic Falls either has roots… or ghosts."
She looked away after that like she hadn't said anything weird.
Malik watched her for a moment. There was something in her eyes — like she'd seen too much for someone so young.
They ended up walking. Talking.
Turns out Jade knew a lot about the town — its history, its people, and its strange rhythm. She pointed out the school, the Salvatore family legacy, and a tree she claimed had "real blood" soaked into the roots.
"You're making stuff up," he said.
"Am I?" she replied. "You'll see. This place… doesn't let people stay innocent."
That line stuck with him.
🌙 That Night…
Malik lay in bed at the boarding house, staring at the ceiling.
There was a noise outside his window. Branches scraping glass. He got up, looked out — no wind, no movement. Just the stars and the edge of the woods in the distance.
But something was there. Watching.
He felt it in his chest.
Not fear. Not danger.
Recognition.
Like something had been waiting for him to arrive.
And now that he was here… the clock had started.
In the woods, deep past the tree line, something stirred.
A flicker of ancient magic burned, pulsing softly in the earth.
Waiting for blood.
Waiting for him.