DOPPELGÄNGER.

The first thing you noticed was the quiet.

It was the kind of silence that didn’t feel natural—too thick, too heavy, pressing in on you like the walls themselves were listening. Your eyes fluttered open to the dim glow of daylight filtering through the thick curtains. For a moment, you weren’t sure where you were.

Then it hit you.

The Salvatore house.

A deep unease settled in your chest, spreading through your limbs like ice. You sat up abruptly, the silk sheets pooling around your waist as your mind raced to piece together what had happened. Klaus? Running. Barefoot through the streets. Stefan. His hands grabbing you, his voice urgent, telling you that you weren’t safe. That you couldn’t go home.

That you were a doppelgänger.

Your stomach twisted at the memory. No matter how many times you replayed it in your head, it didn’t make sense. None of it did.

You swallowed, glancing around the large room. It was elegant in a way that felt too old for the world you knew—dark wood furniture, antique décor, books stacked on a desk near the window. Everything about this place felt like it belonged in another century. The air was cool, carrying the faintest trace of something old, something lingering.

You threw off the blanket and swung your legs over the edge of the bed. Your bare feet hit the cold hardwood, grounding you for the briefest second before the panic returned. This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t your life.

You needed to get out, your feet carrying you to the door.

Just as you were gonna turn the knob on the door, it creaked open.

Stefan.

He lingered in the doorway, his sharp green eyes scanning you carefully. His presence filled the room with something unspoken, something you didn’t have a name for yet. He wasn’t just watching you—he was studying you.

You crossed your arms over your chest, shifting under his gaze. “You can’t just keep me here.” Your voice came out sharper than you intended, but you didn’t care.

Stefan exhaled through his nose, stepping further inside. “You don’t understand what’s happening. If you leave, Klaus will find you.” His tone was calm but firm, like he had already decided this conversation for you.

Your jaw clenched. “And what if I don’t care?”

Something flickered in his expression, gone too fast for you to read. “Then you’re not thinking clearly.”

—“No, you’re just not listening,” you shot back, stepping away from him. “I don’t know what you people are talking about. I don’t know what a doppelgänger is. I don’t know why that psycho was chasing me, and I sure as hell don’t know why I’m here.”

Stefan hesitated, watching you carefully. Then he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Sit down.”

—“No.”

His jaw tightened. “I’m trying to help you.”

—“Then let me leave.”

He took a slow step forward. “You really think you can go back to your normal life after this? That Klaus will just forget you exist?”

You didn’t have an answer to that.

Your silence was enough for him to press on. “You’re part of something bigger than you realize. Doppelgängers aren’t just random people, and Klaus didn’t find you by accident.”

Your throat felt tight. “I’m not a part of anything.”

Stefan studied you, his expression unreadable. Then, quietly, “You look like someone from a long time ago.”

A chill ran down your spine.

Your voice came out unsteady. “…Who?”

Stefan didn’t answer immediately. He was still watching you, as if waiting for you to catch up on your own.

—“It’s not just about looks,” he said eventually. “It’s about blood. About fate. Every doppelgänger is connected. And now that you’ve been found—”

You backed away.

It was too much. Too fast. Nothing about this was real. It couldn’t be.

Stefan noticed, his gaze darkening. “I know this is a lot, but you have to trust me.”

—“Trust you?” A humorless laugh slipped past your lips. “You kidnapped me.”

—“I saved you.”

—“I don’t feel very saved.”

Stefan sighed, rubbing his temples like he was getting frustrated. You didn’t care. You wanted answers, not cryptic warnings.

Your heartbeat hammered in your ears. “I don’t believe in fate. I don’t believe in this doppelgänger crap. And I sure as hell don’t believe that my life is suddenly—”

A blur of movement.

Before you could react, Stefan was suddenly in front of you. Too fast. Way too fast.

Your breath caught in your throat as he reached for your wrist, holding it firmly but not painfully.

—“You should,” he murmured.

Then—a sharp prick.

Your eyes widened as you yanked your arm back, staring at him in disbelief. “Did you just—”

Stefan lifted his thumb—smudged with your blood.

You took another step back, heart pounding.

Stefan’s expression didn’t change. If anything, his grip on reality seemed to tighten, like this was the confirmation he had been waiting for.

—“You’re one of them.”

The room tilted.

You stumbled slightly, breath uneven. “No. No, this is insane.”

—“You know I’m not lying.”

You didn’t. You couldn’t.

And yet, deep down, something in you knew that Stefan wasn’t the type to make things up.

Before you could process anything else, the door creaked open again.

You didn’t have to look to know the energy in the room had changed.

Then—a voice. Smooth. Amused. Dangerous.

—“Well, isn’t this cozy?”

Damon.

Your stomach twisted uneasily. Unlike Stefan, who carried an almost reluctant sort of protectiveness, Damon’s presence felt like a loaded gun—dangerous, unpredictable. The way his piercing blue eyes roamed over you, the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips—it was unnerving.

He stepped inside without invitation, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. “I thought we were done with the whole doppelgänger thing. But nope, the universe just loves making copies, doesn’t it?”

Your head spun. “You know too?”

Damon’s smirk deepened. “Oh, sweetheart. Everyone knows.”

Your pulse pounded in your ears. This wasn’t just Stefan’s crazy theory. This was real.

Damon tilted his head at you, eyes dancing with amusement. “She doesn’t believe you, does she?” he asked Stefan.

Stefan sighed. “Not yet.”

Damon clapped his hands together. “Well, then. Let’s make it easy.”

Before you could react, he was suddenly in front of you.

Too fast. Way too fast.

Your entire world tilted as you realized—this was real. All of it.

You didn’t know how, or why, or what any of it meant.

But one thing was certain.

You weren’t safe anymore.

—————: ̗̀➛

The moment Stefan and Damon left the room, you didn’t waste a second.

Your body moved on instinct, driven by a singular thought—get out.

The room was large, but not inescapable. Your heart pounded as you hurried toward the window, grabbing the heavy curtains and yanking them aside. Locked.

Your fingers fumbled at the latch, shaking slightly as you tried to pry it open. Nothing. Damn it.

You turned sharply, scanning the room for another way. The door? No. Stefan had just walked through it, and you had no doubt he would hear if you even tried. The bathroom? Maybe there was another window there, one that wasn’t sealed shut like some kind of prison.

With quiet, careful steps, you crept toward it, pushing the door open just enough to peek inside. Dim lighting. A clawfoot tub. A window—yes.

Hope flickered in your chest. You moved quickly, stepping onto the cool tile floor and reaching for the lock. Your fingers wrapped around it, twisting—

The door slammed shut behind you.

You whirled, breath catching in your throat.

Stefan stood in the doorway, arms crossed, an expression of pure frustration etched into his face.

—“Are you serious?”

Your pulse thundered. You swallowed, gripping the edge of the sink. “You left. I thought—”

—“That I’d just let you run?” He let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “God, you’re stubborn.”

—“I’m not stubborn, I just don’t want to be here!” you shot back, your voice rising. “I don’t know you. I don’t know what the hell a doppelgänger is. And I sure as hell don’t want to be locked up in some creepy house with a guy who thinks fate is real!”

Stefan’s jaw clenched. He exhaled through his nose, tilting his head like he was actually trying to control his irritation.

—“Do you think I want to babysit you?” he muttered. “You’re not the first doppelgänger I’ve dealt with, and I promise, this is just as annoying for me as it is for you.”

Your stomach twisted. Not the first.

Your lips parted slightly, your mind catching on those words. How many others? Who were they?

Stefan must have seen something flicker across your face because his expression shifted, some of his frustration fading into something heavier. He took a slow step forward.

—“I know this is hard to believe,” he said, his voice calmer this time, but no less firm. “But you’re not safe. Klaus won’t stop. You don’t understand what you are, but he does.”

You shook your head, backing up until the sink dug into your spine. “I don’t want any part of this.”

—“You don’t have a choice.”

The words sent a chill through your bones.

Silence stretched between you. His patience was wearing thin. You could see it in the tightness of his jaw, the slight twitch in his fingers.

Finally, he sighed, raking a hand through his hair. “Look. I get it. You’re scared, and you should be. But stop trying to run. I’m the only thing standing between you and Klaus right now.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of everything pressing down on you. Your throat felt tight.

You wanted to believe he was wrong.

But deep down, a part of you knew—he wasn’t.

—————: ̗̀➛

The Salvatore house was too quiet.

You had spent the night tossing and turning on the unfamiliar bed, your thoughts tangled in knots, replaying everything Stefan had told you. A doppelgänger. A fate I never asked for. A man named Klaus hunting me. It didn’t make sense. None of it did. But that didn’t change the way your body felt—like prey trapped in a cage.

The silence pressed in on you, heavy and suffocating.

Every now and then, the house would groan—old wood settling, the distant hum of the wind against the windows—but it only made you more alert, more paranoid.

What if Stefan was wrong? What if this was a kidnapping?

Eventually, exhaustion won over fear, and you drifted into restless sleep.

—————: ̗̀➛

The next morning, you awoke to the distant murmur of voices downstairs.

Your body ached from how tense you had been all night, but the moment you realized where you were, the sharp pang of awareness snapped you back to reality. You were still here. Still trapped. You sat up, rubbing your face, trying to push away the lingering exhaustion before slipping out of bed.

You needed answers. You needed out.

When you stepped out of the room and descended down the staircase, the smell of coffee hit you first, followed by the sight of Damon and Stefan, already deep in conversation.

—“Oh look, Sleeping Beauty’s awake,” Damon drawled, swirling a glass of bourbon—in the morning? He grinned at you from where he sat, kicked back in a chair like he had no care in the world.

Stefan, on the other hand, looked immediately annoyed. “Damon.”

—“What?” Damon shrugged. “I’m just pointing out how incredibly lucky she is to be here with us instead of, you know, running barefoot through the woods with Klaus on her heels.”

Your fingers curled into fists. “I didn’t ask to be here.”

Damon raised an eyebrow, smirking as he took a sip. “You never do.”

You turned to Stefan instead. “I want to go home.”

—“That’s not happening,” he said without hesitation.

—“Why? Because of some ridiculous prophecy?” you snapped.

Stefan sighed, rubbing his temple, already looking exhausted with this conversation. “Because if you leave, Klaus will find you. You might not believe any of this, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s real.”

Damon made a noise of amusement. “Stefan, I think you broke her reality.”

You ignored him, crossing your arms. “So what? I just stay locked in this house forever?” Stefan hesitated for a second too long.

—“Oh my God, that’s actually your plan.”

Damon chuckled. “Trust me, it’s not as fun as it sounds.”

Before you could argue, the front door swung open.

Elena.

Your breath caught as she stepped inside, her eyes immediately landing on you, curiosity flickering behind them. You recognized her, of course. Everyone in school knew Elena Gilbert. But you had never spoken to her. Never had a reason to. Yet here she was, looking at you like you were some rare animal in a zoo.

—“So… you’re the doppelgänger,” she said softly, stepping closer.

You stiffened. “Apparently.”

Elena studied you, her brows furrowing. “You really don’t know anything about this, do you?”

Your irritation flared. “Is that so hard to believe?”

Elena glanced at Stefan, something unspoken passing between them, before she looked back at you with pity. You hated that.

—“I know how you feel,” she said. “I didn’t believe any of this at first either.”

You swallowed. For a second, you almost wanted to ask her—How did you deal with it? When did it start making sense? Did you ever feel normal again? But before you could say anything, Damon clapped his hands together.

—“Alright, now that the bonding moment is over, can we move on to the part where she realizes running away is a dumb idea?”

—————: ̗̀➛

You waited until the house was quiet again. Until they all assumed you had given up. You hadn’t.

Carefully, you slipped out of the bedroom you’d been sleeping in, slipping through the halls, your eyes scanning for any opening. A window. A door. Keys left unattended. Something.

When you found the car keys resting on a side table in the living room, your heart leapt.

This was it. You reached for them, barely brushing your fingers against the metal— A hand shot out and snatched them away.

You spun, pulse spiking. Damon. He held up the keys with a smirk, dangling them just out of reach. “And here I thought we were past the rebellious phase.”

Your frustration boiled over. “Give those back.”

—“Mmm, no.” You glared at him, stepping forward, but he tilted his head. “Be careful. You wouldn’t want me to think you’re attacking me.”

There was something dark beneath his teasing tone, something that sent a shiver down your spine.

—“You can’t keep me here,” you said, your voice shaking slightly.

Damon’s smirk didn’t fade. “That’s where you’re wrong.”

Before you could retort, the front door burst open.

Stefan was there in an instant, his eyes sharp, his whole body tense. And when you followed his gaze, your stomach dropped.

There was blood on the door. A message. Written in dark, dripping letters.

["Mine. - K"]

Your throat tightened. Klaus.

Stefan turned to you, his expression unreadable. “Still think we’re the crazy ones?”

—————: ̗̀➛

The night stretched on. The weight of that single word—Mine—hung over you like a noose.

You sat on the couch, numb, barely listening as Damon and Stefan spoke in low voices. Finally, Stefan turned to you. His gaze was firm.

—“You have two choices.” You swallowed.

—“Stay here, where we can protect you.” Or.

—“Learn how to protect yourself.”

Damon leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “I’d go with option two. Unless you like the idea of Klaus treating you like his new favorite pet.”

Your hands curled into fists. Your heart pounded. You looked up at them—at Stefan’s unwavering seriousness, at Damon’s amused but knowing smirk.

And you realized—you had no way out.

But maybe. Just maybe.

You could fight your way through.