Malik woke up the next morning to silence.
No cars. No birds. Just an eerie calm floating through the Mystic Falls Boarding House.
He sat up slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. That dream again.
The same tree. The same blood running through the soil. The same voice, low and distant, whispering a name that wasn't quite his but somehow still belonged to him.
He shook it off. Threw on a hoodie. Headed downstairs.
Zach Salvatore was in the kitchen, reading the paper and sipping black coffee like he hadn't aged since 1975.
"Sleep alright?" he asked without looking up.
"Define 'alright,'" Malik replied, reaching for a piece of toast. "This house got weird energy, man."
Zach glanced at him. Noted something. Didn't say it.
"You heading to the school? Or just lurking around the town again?"
"Gonna check out the high school. See what the vibe is. I heard there's a grill nearby too."
"Yeah," Zach said carefully. "Be mindful of who you talk to."
Malik raised an eyebrow. "What, is this one of those 'everyone has secrets' towns?"
Zach didn't laugh. Just took another sip of coffee and said, "You'll see."
🏫 Mystic Falls High
It was like every small-town high school Malik had seen on TV — banners in school colors, football players with too much testosterone, and girls with that same bored-but-deadly stare.
He walked the halls with the kind of swagger that didn't need permission. He wasn't a student, just "checking it out," but he moved like he owned the floor.
Some of the kids stared — not in a racist way, just in a who the hell is that and why is he built like that kind of way.
One guy with a football jacket bumped into him.
"Yo, watch it," the dude muttered.
Malik smiled. "I am watching. You just got in the way."
Before it could turn into anything, someone stepped between them.
"Tyler, go be annoying somewhere else," a girl snapped.
She had long brown hair, hazel eyes, and a presence that made the hallway fall quiet. Malik recognized her from earlier — the girl he winked at near the Grill.
"Damn. You're everywhere," he said.
"Elena," she replied with a small smile. "You're the new guy."
"Malik Rivers. First of his name. Master of none."
She laughed softly. "Welcome to Mystic Falls, Malik."
🍁 Later That Day…
Malik met up with Jade again — she was sitting in the town square, feeding birds with one hand and scrolling her phone with the other.
"You look like you saw a ghost," she said.
"I think I saw three," he replied, dropping onto the bench beside her. "This town's got tension, like… like a string about to snap."
Jade looked at him sideways. "You ever heard of ley lines?"
"Sounds like a bad rap group."
"They're magical lines that run through the earth. Power flows through them. Mystic Falls sits on top of several."
"You believe in all that?"
She shrugged. "I believe in patterns. And this town? It's a damn pattern waiting to break."
🌙 That Night — In the Woods
The dream came back. Stronger.
Only this time, Malik wasn't asleep.
He'd gone for a walk to clear his head. But something pulled him into the woods — beyond the trails, deeper than he'd meant to go. No phone signal. Just wind and trees and a pressure in his chest that kept growing.
And then he saw it.
A massive tree, its bark cracked and dark, its roots sprawling like veins. A strange symbol burned into the trunk — not carved, burned. Still faintly glowing.
He stepped closer, heart pounding.
As he reached out to touch it—
FLASH.
A vision slammed into his head.
Blood. Fire. A woman's voice chanting in a dead language.
A man — him, but not quite him — screaming as magic split his chest open.
The world twisting. Roots turning to veins. A crown of thorns made from white oak branches.
Malik dropped to his knees, gasping.
Then — a whisper. Closer than ever.
"Malik… it's time."
He looked up.
And someone — or something — was standing at the edge of the clearing.
Eyes like molten gold.
Watching him.
Waiting.