Bryce stared into the eyes of his dinner, a young woman who looked like she was in her mid-twenties. She was pretty, with a slender body and a oval shaped face with dark green eyes and curly blonde hair. He hadn't took much from her, only enough to satisfy his hunger. After compelling her to forget what happened and smearing a little of his blood to heal the two puncture marks, he let her go, watching as she got into her red Explorer, driving off. When she was out of sight, Bryce got into his silver BMW, heading home himself to shower and clean up a little bit. He lived just outside of the city square of Mystic Falls, only a ten minute drive. He bumped down the dirt road and pulled up to a two story log home. It was a beautiful view, trees were all over and behind his log cabin was a beautiful shimmering lake. He had his own motorboat, which he kept tied to the dock he built himself.
This was his home for six years, since he had moved to Mystic Falls. For the first few years, he kept to himself, after all he couldn't be around for six years and not age a bit. For food, he would go to the next town, it was only three years since he's been in Mystic Falls, as a permanent resident. After parking his BMW and shutting it off, he got out and went inside, closing the oak style door behind him. He tossed his set of car keys on a small round table he kept beside the door. Looking around, he made sure everything was still in place. His cream color leather furniture was just as he left it that morning in the living room. The 65" plasma screen TV hung on the wall, under it a fireplace with logs ready for a fire. A white fur rug rested between the couches and the fireplace, a ebony coffee table with a stack of magazine in the center. He walked to his bedroom, a four post bed against the far wall. He went into the master bathroom, starting up a hot shower.
After standing under the hot water massage for twenty minutes, relaxing his muscles, he washed up. After he was clean and rinsed off, Bryce got out and grabbed a brown towel, drying himself off. After dressing in boxers, a pair of dark jeans and a forest green sweater, he combed through his hair and brushed his teeth. It was mid-October and a small chill was in the air. Of course, it didn't bother him any, he couldn't feel the changing temperatures. He didn't get hot, cold, sick, nothing. One of the perks of being immortal, but he still had to fit in and at least appeared human.
After making sure all the lights were off and there was no running water or anything that could cause a fire, he picked his keys back up and got back into his BMW. It was nearing seven that evening, and there was going to be some type of festival on the square at Mystic Falls, it would be rude of him not to go. He sped down the highway back to Mystic Falls.
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Cynthia held the hand of the older man. He was on his deathbed and close to dying, this man was her grandfather. He knew what she was, and what she could do. His wife, her grandmother, died six years ago and that was his last request, to see her and their wedding day. Usually, this would be impossible, but not for Cynthia. She had one power- she could create illusions. She didn't use it to hurt anyone, though if provoked she could, but she used it to help. "Granddad, just relax. Clear your mind." Cynthia said, holding the hand of her grandfather. The blonde witch closed her eyes and channeled all her energy. She stood to the side, they couldn't see her, but she could see them. It was her grandfather, looking just as he had now, but instead of being in a hospital gown, he was in a black and whit tuxedo, a red bow tie around his neck.
Standing across from him, holding his hands was her grandmother. She was just how she was when she had her stroke and died, but dressed in her vintage wedding gown, her thinning grey tie pinned back with a pearl comb. It was them, their wedding day only they were much older then they were 53 years ago. Her grandfather was smiling as he stared into the eyes of his wife, who appeared completely healthy. They both looked happy. They were standing in a meadow, white daises and yellow sunflowers surrounded them. The bright sun beamed down, but the heat didn't both them, or Cynthia. They leaned in and kissed, a soft romantic kiss. Cynthia smiled as they began dancing, soft music playing as if it were coming from the sky.
The flat line beeping caused Cynthia's eyes to flutter open. Her grandfather's hand went limp in her own, but a look of peace and serenity was on his face. Nurses rushed in and Cynthia gave him a small kiss. "Good-bye, Granddad." She said and stood back as the nurses and his doctor, Dr. Ghering, announced and documented his time of death. He gave Cynthia his condolences and she walked out. He was her last family left, her parents died in a car accident, she had no siblings or aunt and uncles, just him. Not she had no one. She sighed and left the hospital, keeping her feeling bottled up, something she was pretty good at these days. She drove to the Grill to have a few drinks and grab a bite to eat to regain her strength and energy.