Chapter Text
“Alright Lizzie-bear, what’s first on the agenda?” Damon asks.
The Mystic Falls Halloween Fair lies before them, a magical event filled with games and the promise of spooks, but Lizzie can’t enjoy any of it with her guard dogs sticking beside her.
“First thing is you not calling me ‘Lizzie-bear’ like I’m still five,” Lizzie says. “And I still don’t know why I need two chaperones to go to a town fair.”
Damon claps his hands together performatively. “Because, Lizzie-Lou, your parents have lived in this town for years, and before you were born, for some unexplained reason, misfortune befell every event that took place here.”
“They’re a little paranoid, naturally,” Enzo says simply.
“But! I don’t know if you remember, given we haven’t spent any significant amount of time together since you were a tiny little witch, but Enzo and I are your fun uncles,” Damon says. “We’ll stick with you for five, maybe ten, minutes and then conveniently get distracted by something. Then you’ll be free to get into all kinds of trouble, and we’ll be keeping our excellent vampire ears ready to catch your desperate cries for help.”
“In other words, just meet us back at the entrance around ten and we won’t tell your parents we let you out of our sight,” Enzo says.
Relief fills her. She thought the two of them were going to be attached to her hip, which would have been super embarrassing.
“Is he always like that?” Lizzie asks, pointing toward Damon, who gives her a wide, toothy smile.
“Unfortunately.” Enzo rolls his eyes. “I actually think he’s gotten worse over the past decade.”
Lizzie can’t imagine that. In her early memories, she knows he was around, but she was too young to really register him as a person. Now, he’s been so dramatic the entire time he’s been back in town that Lizzie has started to think it’s just how he is. Damon winks, smirking.
“Alright, now scram. You’re not going to have any fun sticking around with us,” Damon says.
“Alright, I’m going!” Lizzie says as she walks away.
The fair lies before her, a veritable feast of sights and sounds. Now that she’s free of her uncles watching over her, she has no idea where to start first. Everything looks fun, the games, the rides, the other attractions. Lizzie is frozen for a moment. She would have had a whole plan laid out, the perfect order in which to do everything, but she hadn’t known she was coming to this before about an hour ago. Lizzie kicks herself into gear and decides to just try the first thing she sees and go from there.
#
“Stay safe, keep your phone on, and don’t be embarrassed if you run into us in there,” Hayley says.
Hope rolls her eyes. “I will, I will, and I won’t.”
“And keep an eye on the time. We meet back here at ten, got it?” Klaus reminds her.
“Yep!” Hope says. “Really guys, I’ll be fine.”
Hayley pulls her into a hug. “Okay, go have fun.”
Hope waves goodbye to them before running off into the fair on her own. There’s so much to do and only so many hours in the evening, so Hope starts with the biggest thing—the haunted house. It’s still light out, the sun won’t be going down for at least thirty minutes, so it’s not the most crowded, but the line is still fairly long. Hope gets into it and waits, playing on her phone while she moves slowly forward.
Eventually she gets inside, and her excitement rises. This attraction isn’t advertised as the scariest thing in the festival—that honor goes to the hay maze, which Hope plans on going through last, when it’s dark—but she liked the symmetry of starting and ending the night with a horror attraction.
She’s pushed into a group with the four people ahead of her and ushered into the anteroom between the outside and the haunted house proper. Two of them are an older couple, arm in arm and looking nervous, and one is a blonde girl about her age. Hope smiles at her. She waves back, unsure. Neither of them speaks as a voice from the speakers above them comes to life. The lights flicker, creating a spooky atmosphere. The voice says something about a haunting and the terrible spirits and killers that run around the space. Hope doesn’t pay too much attention, too busy looking at the pretty blonde and how her eyes fill with a nervousness Hope hadn’t expected. She looked so brave a moment ago. Hope moves in the dark the few steps it takes to get to her side.
The lights come back on; the girl looks around as the voice wishes them luck, and she spots Hope now next to her.
“Hi,” Hope says. “Pretty spooky, huh? I’m Hope.”
She laughs nervously, playing with her hair. “Yeah, super spooky. I’m Lizzie.”
The door opens, and Hope offers her arm to Lizzie. “Guess we’re stuck together for this. Shall we?”
Lizzie smiles, looking a little more brave. She loops her arm with Hope’s. “We shall.”
They follow the older couple into the house. They all step in, and as soon as she and Lizzie are across the threshold, the doors slam shut. Lizzie jumps, then laughs at herself for jumping. Hope smiles, then tugs her forward. The outside of the house was just a big box with posters and paint to make the walls look like the outside of a home, and the inside definitely matches that exterior. They’re presented with a long hallway, broken chandeliers above them and portraits on the walls.
“Creepy,” Lizzie says.
“Totally,” Hope agrees, though she has to admit the hallway, at least, reminds her of a few back in her own home in New Orleans.
The couple ahead of them are slow, so Hope gets a good look at all the pictures. They’re just of random, well-dressed people, but there’s an effect on them that makes the eyes look like they’re following them. As they’re walking through, someone pops through one of the picture frames, dressed fancy like the other ones. It would have been scary, but it happened up in front of them, effecting the couple more than them. Honestly, Hope only jumps because the two of them scream dramatically. Even Lizzie only jumps at them being loud, and judging by how she reacted to the door slamming, she probably would have screamed there.
When they person disappears back into the wall, the couple turns around to them, looking embarrassed.
“Sorry,” the woman says.
“You know what? You two look brave. Why don’t you go first?” the man offers.
Hope shrugs. “Sure.”
Lizzie seems a bit more unsure, but she doesn’t argue. The two of them switch places with the couple, passing the actor in the painting as they do, who looks at them with wide eyes, their head twitching in a way that’s supposed to be off-putting.
The hallway ends shortly after that, leading them to the left into a bedroom. There’s no door, so Hope and Lizzie can look inside before they go. It looks empty, but Hope thinks it’s just a setup for something to jump out at them. Beside her, Lizzie takes a deep breath, craning her neck to look around the room.
“Ready?” Hope asks.
Lizzie nods. “I’m fine.”
Hope smiles. She’s only just met this girl, but she likes her courage. They step into the room, and Hope immediately looks in the corner. No one’s there, and no one jumps out at them.
“Seems fine,” Hope says.
They take three more steps into the room before the ground gives out beneath them. Hope gasps and Lizzie screams, but after a moment they both realize that it’s simply a trampoline-like net on the floor, concealed in the dark. They quickly touch the ground below them, only falling a few inches, but it definitely got the both of their heart rates up. Hope laughs, then slips her hand down Lizzie’s arm to take her hand.
It’s hard to walk on, but it doesn’t stretch for very long. Soon they’re back on solid ground, and hand in hand they move from the bedroom to the next hallways.
“HEY girls!” someone shouts when they get through the doorway, causing the both of them to jump.
This actor is dressed far more gruesomely than the last one. They wear the same old clothing, but it’s ripped and torn, and their face looks bloody, with part of their cheek coming off.
Lizzie tugs her further down the hallway, clearly eager to get away.
“You sure you want to be going further into the house?” they call after them, and then the couple catches up. Hope looks over her shoulder and watches as the woman shrinks away from the actor’s hands. “Look at what they did to me! Turn back! Turn back while you still can!”
They devolve into tears, and Hope grins, charmed by their performance. She looks back in front of her and finds the hallway leads to a staircase that they take together. Of course, halfway up, something brushes against their legs, hands reaching out to grab them. Lizzie squeals, jumping up the stairs in a panic. Her grip on Hope’s hand is iron-tight, pulling her up as well. Hope stumbles, but it just makes her laugh as she rushes up the stairs with her.
At the top, when the hands are gone and the couple below is looking up in fear at the thought of going up after knowing what’s waiting for them, Lizzie pushes Hope’s shoulder.
“Are you laughing at me?” she pouts.
“Only a little!” Hope says through her smile.
Lizzie scoffs, offended. “It’s not funny! And those hands are seriously dangerous. What if we tripped?”
“It’s a little funny,” Hope says, pushing Lizzie to keep moving.
“It’s not!” Lizzie argues.
Hope puts her free hand on Lizzie’s shoulder and squeezes. “You’re right, you’re right. It’s not funny.”
“Thank you,” Lizzie says as they enter the next room.
This one is a bathroom, big and ornately decorated, with the claw tub separate from the shower.
Hope leans in close to Lizzie, angling her head up to whisper to the taller girl. “Jump scare from the shower?”
Lizzie shakes her head. “Too obvious.”
She turns out to be right. There’s a shadow behind the curtain of the shower, which makes Hope think someone is going to jump at them, but while she’s looking at the shower curtain, she completely misses the bathroom mirror, which cracks loudly. Hope jumps, her head whipping in that direction. Blood seeps from the mirror, and then the lights start flashing and someone screams behind the mirror. Bloody hands press against the glass, slamming repeatedly, and all the chaos makes her and Lizzie flee from the bathroom.
Only for a man to jump out of the closet in the next hallway. This makes the both of them scream, but they don’t let go of each other’s hand. They’re fully separated from the other couple in their group, and the guy who jumps out of the closet yells loudly, and with all the adrenaline from the bathroom, Lizzie and Hope run. The man chases after them down the hall, which seems to stretch forever.
Finally, the hallway comes to an open door, and since it’s the only doorway with an actual door that they’ve come across, they instinctually close it against the man running after them. They each have one hand on the door, unwilling to let the other go with their other, and they breathe a sigh of relief as they hear the man walk away from the door on the other side.
“Well, hello, who are you scrumptious guests?”
They whirl around, only to find they’re in a study where a man stands over a woman laying on a desk. She reaches for them weekly, her stomach covered in blood and cuts.
“One moment, you wonderful delights. I’ll get to you in a moment. Why don’t you take a seat over there?” he points with the knife in his hand toward the chairs in the corner.
On the other side of the room is the doorway—once against without an actual door, they just have to get past this man first. Hope inches forward, Lizzie stuck to her side.
“Oh, no thank you, sir,” Lizzie says.
They inch past him, almost getting to the door. He looks between them and the woman on the desk, and sighs.
“Well, if you won’t stay on your own, I supposed I’ll have to get my pet to round you up,” he says.
He goes back to the other door and opens it wide, letting in the man—who is definitely a different actor, just dressed the same. In the light, Hope can see he’s got fur on his face and arms, his clothes ripped. He looks like a bargain basket werewolf, but the fear of the room and wanting to get away makes him terrifying all the same.
Hope and Lizzie dash down the dark hallway, this thing once again chasing them. It feels like a maze of halls, turning left, then right, then left. Eventually, they come across a smaller opening—big enough still for the wolf-man, but smaller than the wide hallway. They rush into it, and the wolf-man makes a show of pretending he can’t get to them. They push forward, and Hope thinks this would be terrible if she was claustrophobic. As it is, they simply walk through it, the wolf-man’s cries fading behind them.
“How long is this stupid house?” Lizzie asks.
“We have to be getting to the end,” Hope says, though she isn’t sure that’s true.
The small hallway gives way to the normal hallway, and then a set of stairs going down. Logically, she knows they’re just going back to the first floor, which means they’re probably close to the end, but the stairs are wooden and it definitely looks like they’re going into a basement.
“Oh, great,” Lizzie says, squeezing Hope’s hand. “I love this.”
“We’re almost done,” Hope reassures. “Come on.”
Together, they descend the stairs, ready for whatever this last section offers them. If it even is the last section. It’s very dark when they get to the bottom of the stairs, but as soon as they take another step, they must hit a motion sensor or something, because the lights flicker on. It’s still dark, but at least they can see a little.
Lizzie gasps at the sight in front of them, turning so she can rest her forehead on the top of Hope’s head and hide from it. All around them are bloody bodies hanging from the ceiling. It’s clearly fake, but Hope can understand her initial shock, though.
“It’s not real,” Hope says softly.
“I know!” Lizzie squeals. Slowly, she looks up ahead of them. In the distance, the sound of a chainsaw revving sounds. Lizzie jumps.
“We should move,” Hope says urgently.
“Agreed,” Lizzie says.
They walk forward, through the hanging bodies, following the track of lights along the ground that seem to lead them to where they’re supposed to go in this area. The darkness swims on either side of them, making Hope paranoid. The chainsaw stops, then starts again on the other side, closer. They huddle together, as if being closer will save them from what might come out of the shadows.
They have no way of knowing if they’re near the end with how dark everything is around them. The next time the chainsaw roars to life it’s directly behind them, and she screams along with Lizzie this time. Neither of them have to tug the other, they just start running. She knows the actor won’t actually saw either of them, but the sound alone scares her brain enough that she doesn’t stop running until they break through the open doorway and out of the house.
“Woo! Whoaa! Okayy!” Lizzie says, laughing nervously as they walk away from the house and further toward the lights and sounds of the rest of the fair. “That was exciting!”
“See? I told you we were almost done,” Hope says.
“I never doubted you,” Lizzie says, grinning at her.
It’s then that they realize they’re still holding hands, and now that they’re out of the haunted house, it becomes awkward. Hope remembers that she just met Lizzie about thirty minutes ago, even if it feels like they’ve been friends for years. They let go, and Lizzie scratches the back of her neck.
“Uh, well,” Lizzie says, clearly searching for something to talk about to calm her nerves after the haunted house. “Do you live in town?”
Hope shakes her head. “I’m from New Orleans. My family and I are just visiting.”
“New Orleans? Cool!” Lizzie says. “What’s it like there?”
“I don’t know, normal?” Hope says. “But hey, we should exchange numbers! I’m in town for a few more days. We could hang out!”
Hope starts reaching into her pocket for her phone, but then Lizzie says, “Oh, I don’t have a phone.”
“Oh.” Hope puts hers back in her pocket. “Well, I might move here, so we could always run into each other again.”
“Really?” Lizzie shakes her head. “You’d move here from New Orleans?”
Hope chuckles and jerks her head toward the game area. “I’ll tell you all about it while we play some games.”
#
“I have only one rule for you: have fun,” Hayley says.
“Why do you say that as if I don’t?” Klaus asks.
“Well, because for the past however many years I’ve known you, your idea of fun has always involved bloodletting and power plays,” Hayley points out, to which he can’t argue. “And the last time you had genuine, pure fun was probably when you were a child, which was like a million years ago.”
Klaus scoffs, an offended hand landing on his chest. “Not all of my fun involves blood! I am perfectly capable of playing a few festival games.”
“Hmm,” Hayley says, crossing her arms. “How about this; for the next few hours we’ll play the games, and whoever wins the most prizes for the other, wins.”
“Sounds easy enough,” Klaus says.
“But, no using any powers.” Hayley raises her eyebrows, a small smirk on her lips.
He rolls his eyes. “Yes, fine. No powers. Easy.”
Hayley holds out a hand and Klaus shakes it, but instead of letting go, she pulls him forward and kisses him. “Game on,” she says against his lips.
She darts off, laughing as he runs after her, through the lights and music of the fair. All around them are classic carnival games, just with a Halloween twist, and the game they land on first is a ring toss. On the other side of the counter is a werewolf, the kind that is humanoid but with wolfish features. On different parts of his body are pegs that stick out, meant for the rings, which are a silver color. The goal is to throw the silver on the heart peg to “kill” the wolf. They get three rings.
“I’m not sure our abilities could even help us win these games,” Klaus says as he looks around at the other games.
“Maybe not all of them, but if I didn’t point it out as a rule, you would have used your speed or strength to cheat,” Hayley says, then she pays the man at the counter his two dollars to play and is given her rings.
She focuses, and while she misses the first attempt—the ring going wide and landing on the arm instead of the heart—the next two find their mark. She gets no extra points for getting two rings, but she smiles triumphantly at it, anyway.
“Well done,” Klaus says.
She selects her prize, a small keychain adornment shaped like a ghost. Hayley dangles it in front of him. “That’s one. Your turn.”
Klaus steps up to the counter, pays, and throws the rings. Just as he releases the first one, Hayley comes up behind him, putting her hands on his hips and slipping her fingers beneath the hem of his shirt. He gasps. The ring hits the leg peg.
“What are you doing, little wolf?” he asks.
“Nothing. Keep going,” she says.
She does nothing more for the next throw, but it still misses. He growls softly, annoyed. As he raises the next ring, Hayley rises to her tip-toes and whispers in his ear.
“What? Can’t focus?” Hayley asks.
“Your little games won’t work on me,” he says, and true to his word, even as she kisses his neck, he makes the last throw.
Hayley slips away from him. He picks out a matching keychain for her, this one a skeleton, and smirks. “Seems we’re tied.”
Hayley glares playfully. “Not for long.”
They move on to the next game, which is a knock-em-down centered on knocking over a certain number of gravestones. They both, once again, win a prize for the other. Hayley takes a step back during Klaus’s turn, reevaluating her strategy. If she wants to win, she’s going to have to cheat. They’re too evenly matched for her not to. They do another game—shooting arrows with suction pads instead of arrows in to the head of cardboard zombie cutouts—and this time she manages to jump scare Klaus every shot, causing him to miss entirely and her to win the only prize.
They move away from the counter to let other people play, and Klaus grips her hips and pulls her to his chest.
“I thought you said no cheating,” he says.
“Actually, I said no powers. I didn’t say anything about cheating,” she says, batting her eyelashes at him.
“Alright. If that’s how you want to play,” he leans in close to her and whispers, “game on.”
Then he kisses her neck, sending full body shivers through her. He pulls away with a smirk, then heads to the next game. Hayley follows, curious about what he’s going to do. The next game they find involves hitting a base to make a plush candy corn fly into a basket. Hayley doesn’t do anything to Klaus—she’s already up by one. She can afford to let him win or fail on his own. He misses two shots, but one goes into the basket, which is all he needs to win her a prize. When she goes, she’s on edge, so much so that it ruins her focus. She keeps thinking he’ll jump scare her or push her or something to get back at her. She misses all three attempts because of it.
She glares at him as she walks away from the booth.
“What?” he asks, fiendishly innocent, a smug grin on his face.
“Not fair,” she says.
“Fair? I thought cheating was allowed, little wolf? Or are we changing the rules now? Because I can certainly go back to playing a clean game—can you?” He says it all with innocence in his eyes, but he ends the sentence with a devilish tone.
Hayley crosses her arms. “Fine. One last game to break the tie, no cheating at all.”
“Agreed,” he says as he folds his hands behind his back. “So, what shall it be?”
Hayley looks around. There are a million more games like the ones they’ve just played, but they all seem too repetitive. Too clean. Three chances to do something, and they’ve both proved they’re evenly matched in strength and aim. Then her roaming gaze catches on a less popular game, off in the corner.
“That one,” Hayley says.
They head over to the apple bobbing, and Hayley prepares herself. There are two buckets side by side for competition. There’s no way they can mess with each other here, and there’s no way they can use their powers to help. They settle down at the buckets and the lady running this game fishes a hair tie out of her apron and hands it to Hayley, then explains the rules. They’ll have five minutes to get out as many apples as they can and whoever fishes out the most, wins.
She starts the timer and the two of them dive into their respective buckets. It’s been years since she bobbed for apples, and she’d forgotten how actually difficult it is. She gets two apples, feeling the time slipping away from her, and when she looks over, she finds three apples by Klaus’s basket. Fuck. Hayley dives back in with renewed fervor, desperate to get a few more apples before the time is up. Now she knows how she could use her powers; using her hearing to pinpoint when he’s coming up for air or just keeping track of how many apples she hears fall to the ground, elongating her fangs to more easily dig into the apple, but they made an agreement.
She gets another two, but in trying to get a fifth—chasing the fruit around the bucket feeling like a strange monster—the timer goes off and the lady calls the time. Hayley leans back, afraid to look over at how many apples Klaus had gotten. The lady hands them both a hand towel to dry their faces.
“And. . . that’s four to three! The lady wins!”
Hayley doesn’t believe it at first, but then she looks over and sure enough, Klaus still only has three apples. She gets to her feet and laughs out a victory call. Klaus stands and dusts off his pants.
“Alright, alright, bask in your victory,” he says.
She picks out a small plush vampire for him, smiling all the time. They walk back a bit into the festival and Klaus clips his keychain prizes onto the belt loops of his pants.
“Cute,” Hayley says.
“Well? Am I having enough fun for you?” he asks.
She takes his hand. “I think we could probably find some more fun.”
#
“It’s not going to be scary,” Damon sighs.
“It could be scary,” Enzo argues.
“Enzo. We’re vampires. We are literal monsters of the night. We’ve done scarier things than whatever we’ll find in that stupid maze,” Damon points out.
Enzo smirks at him. “So you’re saying you don’t want to go? Afraid I could be right?”
Damon rolls his eyes. “I’ll go through the stupid maze if you want me to. I’m just saying it’s not going to scare either of us.”
“Oh, where’s your sense of adventure? Your draw to new experiences?” Enzo asks. “I think you’re getting boring in your old age.”
Damon scoffs. “Me? Boring?”
Enzo shrugs, all casual, but there’s a mischievous look in his eyes. Damon knows he knows exactly what he’s doing. Still, Damon doesn’t have it in him to fight against Enzo.
“Fine, I’ll keep an open mind,” Damon says. “But if neither of us get frightened by anything in there, you have to buy me a drink.”
Enzo furrows his brow. “Wasn’t I going to buy you a drink, anyway?”
Damon shrugs one shoulder. “Now you have an excuse.”
There’s a bit of a line to get into the maze, but it only gives the two of them more time to talk about nothing and finish their hot ciders, which they toss in the trash near the entrance of the maze. They walk into the hay, which is taller than the both of them, but wide on both sides. For the first several minutes, it’s just them walking through the maze in silence, only speaking when they need to decide which direction to go in. All that happens to them is that they hear rustling every so often, or the screams of the people up ahead of them. They run into a dead end twice.
Then, finally, something happens. A man dressed in a bloody costume with makeup to make it look like his face has been carved jumps out in front of them before they turn a corner. It doesn’t make either of them jump, and as the guy attempts to move in weird directions or make startling noises, Damon just gives him an unimpressed look and moves on.
“Alright, well, that one was cheap, but I’m sure there are much more terrifying things ahead,” Enzo says.
“Yeah, whatever you need to believe.” Damon pats his shoulder.
There are a few more scares as they move through the maze—a girl covered in fake blood, a guy dressed in all black, etc. etc. Most of them just jump out of various places in the maze, but a few of them touch and push—which they’d been told would happen while in line. Still, none of that does anything to get Damon’s heart rate up. Or Enzo’s, for that matter. As much as he campaigned for keeping an open mind, even he isn’t frightened by any of this. One guy creeps up behind them, but Damon heard his footsteps in the hay a while back, so when he grabs them, Damon is ready for it.
“You’re cheating,” Enzo says after they make it past that guy.
“How am I cheating?” Damon scoffs. “I’m just walking through the maze, like everybody else.”
“You can hear them coming, which ruins the whole surprise and shock factor!” Enzo argues.
“So can you!” Damon says.
“I’m not letting myself hear anything further than a foot in front of me—it’s called control, Damon. Though I’m sure you wouldn’t know much about that,” Enzo says, smirking.
“Ouch,” Damon says. “But still, even without hearing it all coming, you’re not scared either.”
“I’m . . . entertained,” Enzo says.
“Well, I’m bored,” Damon says. They turn a corner, nothing happens. “And we’re walking in circles. I swear, we’re never getting out of here, and the next person I see I’m going to eat.”
Enzo slips his hand into Damon’s, almost like a leash. “Damon,” he warns. “As much as I would love to tell you to go crazy, your brother already killed me once. If he finds out you fed on innocent fair-goers, he just might kill me again for being a ‘bad influence’.”
“You’re no fun when we’re visiting.” Damon pouts, leaning into Enzo’s space.
He stops. “Alright, tell you what.” He fishes his phone out of his pocket. “You run, I’ll chase you.”
Damon shakes his head, confused. “Okay?”
“You make it out of the maze in. . . ten minutes—” He punches the time into his phone—“without me catching you, I’ll buy you that drink. I catch you before we make it out, you buy me a drink. Deal?”
Damon tilts his head. “Alright.”
“No vampire speed,” Enzo clarifies. “You have a fifteen second headstart. Go.”
Damon wastes three of those seconds kissing Enzo, before he dashes off through the maze. He rushes past actors, who look by in confusion at his running, and pretty soon adrenaline kicks through his bloodstream. Not because any of this illicits any kind of fear in him, but rather something else. He’s always loved the chase, and as he hears Enzo hot on his heels, apparently he likes being the prey as well as the predator. His mind fills with a thousand things they could do when Enzo catches him—unfortuantately not while they’re at a fair in town, still, excitement buzzes under Damon’s skin.
Damon runs faster, choosing left or right at random. Of course eventually this means he runs into a dead end. His heart spikes as he comes to a stop. The maze is wide enough that he could dodge around Enzo, right? Damon turns around, ready to slip past him, and when Enzo finds him he does just that, darting one way only to feint and spin, putting his two-hundred-year-old football skills to good use. He makes it past Enzo, who grasps uselessly onto his shirt only to lose his grip.
He runs past other groups of people, scaring them as though he was part of the maze. He tries to listen to the other people to figure out what direction to turn, not wanting to run into another dead end, but no matter where he goes, he feels like he’s running in circles. How the hell is he supposed to get out of here in ten minutes? He supposes the circles people walk themselves into are part of what’s supposed to make this so scary—constantly running into the scare actors that were most off-putting to you.
He’s so concentrated on running and trying to remember which direction he’s already been, that he doesn’t hear this person lying in wait. This time, when they jump from behind a corner, screaming loudly, Damon jumps. Half of him thinks Enzo found some shortcut and got in front of him, the other knows it’s just a scare actor. He stops running, momentarily shocked by the guy. And because of his momentary halting, Enzo catches up to him, barreling into him from behind and wrapping his arms around Damon’s waist.
“Ha! Got you!” Enzo says.
The guy who scared him glares. “There’s no running in the maze,” he says.
“Sorry,” Enzo says. “We were just having a bit of fun.”
“Well, have it outside of the maze. You’re almost at the end,” he says, then he jerks his head for them to pass him.
Damon rolls his eyes, and Enzo walks them forward with his arms still around Damon.
“You got scared,” Enzo taunts.
“I did not get scared, I got startled. There’s a difference,” Damon argues.
“You got scared and now you owe me a drink,” Enzo says. He kisses Damon’s cheek before saying. “Suck it up.”
Damon chuckles. If Enzo wasn’t hanging off of him, he would shrug casually. “Alright, fine. You win.”
Enzo lets him go, returning to walk by his side, and soon they find their way out of the maze.
#
Near ten o’clock, Hope and Lizzie make their way back to the front gate, chatting and laughing like they’ve been best friends for years. Damon and Enzo get there next.
“Hey Lizzie-bear! How was the fair?” he asks.
Lizzie crosses her arms. “I told you not to call me that,” she says, embarrased now that Hope is around to hear him call her that.
“‘Lizzie-bear’,” Hope says, smiling as she looks at Lizzie. “Cute.”
Lizzie blushes. Maybe it’s not the worst nickname if Hope thinks it’s cute. . .
“I see you’ve made a friend,” Damon says.
“I’m Hope,” she says.
He opens his mouth to introduce himself, but then he looks past her and laughs. “Well if it isn’t the big bad Klaus Mikaelson—back in town.”
Klaus and Hayley step up to them, stopping near Hope, and Lizzie wracks her brain for where she knows that name, because she’s sure she’s heard it before.
“Damon. How nice to see you again.” Klaus looks over at Enzo, confusion in his eyes. “I don’t believe you were around the last time I was in town.”
“Enzo,” he says reaching forward to shake Klaus’s hand. “I was otherwise incarcerated—but I’ve heard plenty about you, mate.”
“Not all bad, I hope,” Klaus says. Hayley rolls her eyes, then introduced herself as well.
“Mikaelson,” Lizzie says, the realization dawning on her. She turns to Hope. “You’re Hope Mikaelson?”
Hope laughs, though she looks a bit awkward now. “Yeah, Lizzie. And judging by your tone, I’m guessing that means you haven’t heard much good about us.”
“No, I—” Lizzie starts, but then she looks back at Klaus, and all the horror stories she’s heard comes back. Her mother had spoken about him briefly, but most of what she heard was from aunt Elena or the other kids gossiping in school, and it was never anything nice.
“Lizzie. . .” Klaus says, then looks at Damon. “And if you’re with him that means—Elizabeth Saltzman.”
“Wait, Saltzman?” Hope asks, then clarity comes into her eyes. “No wonder you responded like you did.”
“Well, now that we all know that we know each other, how about we move on from this game of Rocky Horror Picture Show,” Damon suggests. “Why are you in town? Not planning on taking over again, are you?”
His tone is light enough that they all know it’s a joke. Klaus chuckles and shakes his head. “Actually, we’re thinking of enrolling Hope in that school of yours.”
“Really?” Lizzie asks, excitement coursing through her.
“Yeah, we think it’s time she hangs out with people like her that are her own age,” Hayley says.
“We’ve kept her cooped up for too long,” Klaus agrees.
“Have to seen the school yet?” Lizzie asks, wondering how in hell she missed giving Hope a tour. If Josie did it without her and didn’t even tell her. . .
“We just got to town. We’ll be getting the tour on Monday,” Klaus says.
“He’s been scared about how Alaric and Stefan will react,” Hayley says. Then, “mostly Ric.”
“Hey, if he holds any gruges against you, just call me,” Damon says as he puts both his hands on his own chest. “I’ll march right down there and kick his ass for you.”
Damon smiles and Enzo cuts in. “Yeah, and these two have clearly become best friends tonight. I’m sure the old man. . . and the other old man wouldn’t do anything to tear them apart. Caroline would kick their asses herself—no offense, darling.” He directs the last bit to Damon.
“None taken, you’re right,” he says. “Stefan wouldn’t want either of those girls to be upset about anything, either. Really, it’s only Ric and his pride you’ll have to fight against.”
“Good to know,” Hayley says. She looks to Hope. “Are we ready to go?”
Hope looks at Lizzie and smiles. “I guess I’ll see you Monday.”
“I’ll give you a tour of the school!” Lizzie says, beaming.
“Great,” Hope says. She waves goodbye and she and her family walk away.
“Are either of you hungry?” Damon rubs his hands together. “I’m starved.”
Lizzie follows them toward the parking lot, but she keeps her eyes on Hope until she’s completely out of sight. She hopes desperately that her parents let her come to the school, Lizzie thinks she would be absolutely distraught if she didn’t get to hang out with Hope every day for the rest of her life. Lizzie blinks, silent as she gets into the backseat of the car. Is she. . . ? Does she have a crush on Hope? On Hope Mikaelson?
“Lizzie?” Enzo asks, looking back at her. “Did you hear us?”
“Hmm?” she says. “Sorry.”
“Would you like to stop somewhere to eat?”
“Uh, sure,” Lizzie says.
If Hope does end up coming to the school, there’s no way Josie isn’t going to figure out that Lizzie has a crush on her. Oh god, she’s going to be so annoying about this. . .