A/N: I miss them. I also wanted to show what could happen if Asma let her anger out and why she’s desperately trying to reign in her anger.
Xxxxx
Mystic Falls, Saturday night, 9 pm
Asma was playing with her glass of wine, twirling the glass as if she didn't care if it spilled over the table she was drinking at or not. As a matter of fact, the witch didn't care. She was too busy thinking about Klaus' whereabouts and the motives that had him come back to Mystic Falls. She had a clue, given how popular this place with supernatural creatures, was. Her time there had her meet with the resident trouble-makers and danger-magnet: Elena Gilbert and her best friends, the Salvatore brothers who happened to have caused a lot of damages since they became vampires. Klaus stated that he wanted to find his enemies and end them before they could hurt him and his family. She could understand. She would have done the same. As much as she hated that side of hers, the cursed witch had a strong survival instinct. She had not told him yet about what she did centuries ago. She had not confessed her bloodlust to him that was still taunting her. Hell, she even buried the memories she had when she was unleashed. Asma hated losing control, she hated it because she relished in it.
That night, she chose to drown her sorrow with alcohol, thinking that it would spare her the shame that threatened to burst out of the neat bubble she put it in. Shame... why would she feel shame for protecting herself? why would she feel shame for wanting to live? Her forefinger tapped against the half-full glass of wine and she pursed her lips into a pout. It was different and she knew it. There was a thin line between self-defense and straight-up murder. No matter how she called it, what she did to those witch-hunters, that was murder. She hunted her hunters and when the cursed witch found them, she was merciless. A frown crept on her face, causing a small crease in between her eyebrows. Why did she go on a rampage again? How did she do it? Asma started to think. She searched through her memories, trying to unlock what she'd been avoiding for decades. Yes! Decades! Her last rampage was only a couple decades ago, during the '70s.
Asma had found a shelter in France, a place that was far more welcoming than America at the time -or so she thought- She didn't feel like an alien anymore, instead she belonged. Asma managed to become a musician. She would play piano at night, complimenting the voice of the Jazz singers who wanted to try their luck on stage. She could enjoy the city life, she could blend in. The witch always made sure to hide her eyes with a pair of sunglasses, pretending to be blind so people wouldn't ask her to remove them and wouldn't be too curious about her. her hair at the time was still natural, a beautiful jet-black color that framed a perfect face. The woman was gorgeous, and her curse enhanced that beauty to extraordinary levels. She had to admit that it took her some time to recognize herself in the mirror, to dominate her fear of the odd color of her eyes. It took a while to see the impact her newfound beauty caused others. It would attract people whether she wanted it or not. It would make them curious, envious, jealous, and violent. It would increase the probability of incidents and she was proven right.
She could trust no one. Humans, Witches, Vampires, and Lycans were meant to hunt her down. France was the first place she encountered witch-hunters and realized that her legend was still going strong. Witches kept the memory of what she did alive and some decided to take matters into their own hands. One of the musicians at the bar she was playing, told her that two women were looking for her. He described them to Asma as well as the tablecloth one of them used to doodle on. Asma recognized them as witchcraft symbols. She thanked the man and started her own investigation, using the tablecloth to cast a spell and find the witches. Her memory became foggy again. She couldn't remember very well what happened after she learned witches were looking for her. It was blurry but she could remember bits and pieces, especially how she was feeling.
She felt like a trapped animal, determined to kill those who wanted to kill her. She remembered the anger at the whole situation, how unfair it was that she was denied a normal life and how that anger turned into a blind rage. She remembered the screams of pure terror from the witches, the blood that splattered all over her frame. Asma didn't know how long she stayed with the two witches, but she did remember taking her time killing them. She gave them a slow and painful death, throwing at them her frustrations, her pain, and her anger all at once. The memory almost made the witch throw up and she put her glass on the counter. It was awful, as a matter of fact, she did catch a glimpse of the gruesome scenes before her and the nasty satisfaction she felt upon seeing her carnage.
They deserved it! All of them! They didn't know how it felt to have her curse! they didn't know how awful the solitude was, the betrayal, the constant fear of being exposed and hunted down. Asma had always looked behind her shoulders, always covered her tracks -or at least, tried to but her enemies proved to be relentless. she learned the hard way to always be cautious, especially in a monster hub like Mystic Falls. Still, she was sick to her stomach upon her memories. It felt as if she could smell and taste the blood that was on her face. It felt as if she could hear the pleas and screams of agony and her whole body was shaking from the inside. Shame should have been the emotion she would be feeling right now. When she was in her right mind, Asma felt ashamed for her past deeds...for her bloodlust and for the sadistic joy she had when she avenged herself on those who wanted to kill her.
A tit for tat, after all, wasn't it? A tit for... she frantically searched for her money and threw it on the counter before she ran away from the bar. Her heart started to beat faster as she was uncomfortable and it was so overwhelming that she didn't notice when she bumped against Stefan. The Salvatore brother furrowed his brows and put his large hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright?" He asked, concerned about the witch. He instantly recognized her, mostly because not so many people in the small town of Mystic Falls had this type of hair color. There weren't many who would wear sunglasses at night either, so he recognized Asma. "Asma?"
"Stefan... I... I'm alright. Don't worry about me. I was just in a hurry."
"Anything I can help you with?" -He genuinely asked. She looked panicked as if she was running away from something. Since she was a witch, he suspected it was either a vampire or a werewolf but Asma was still shielding herself from Elena's friends and loved ones. He felt the reluctance of the witch to answer and released her shoulder. "If you need anything, Asma, you can come to our manor. You've always been helpful to Elena, Caroline and Bonnie. You also have helped my brother on several occasions. I owe you."
"You don't owe me anything. I chose to help, and I am glad it worked. I... Stefan... I have to go." -She begged him. her voice was shaking and he noticed her shivers and goosebumps. She was terrified, yet, he moved away so she could leave.
"I insist. If you need help, please call me." -He said as she started to brisk walk away.- "Think about it!" -He said a little bit louder before he turned around and kept walking-
She heard him loud and clear. She knew Stefan was actually a good soul trying to do the right thing and make amends for the days he was the Ripper. He didn't know her but he knew she was helping those he loved and that was enough for him. She heard him loud and clear and yet, her memories screamed louder than his voice. Her worries about Klaus' unfinished business forced her to consider what he was trying to do. His absence was stressful to her, mostly because she didn't know where he was and when he would be back.
If he would be back.
- TBC-
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