Raven Echo Black, The Vampire Diaries FanFiction

A scream rang through the forest. If the Salvatore youngest had been focused on his surroundings and not his hunting activity, he may have noticed it.
“Afton! Get off of me!” Came muffled scream, followed by a yelp of pain. A Man’s booming voice signalled everything to go silent.
“Now get to your room!” he roared. A symphony of grumbles mixed with laughs sounded.
‘But dad...” a whiney voice moaned. “I was having –so- much fun.” He continued bitterly.
Salvatore stood ahead of a brunet beauty, her hair whipping around her in the contorting wind.
“Please don’t kill me!” she cried out. Her worse nightmare, the demons in the dark, was standing in front of her. A growl emitted from the young man as he lunged at her throat. An ear piercing scream encircled him as she struggled in this monsters hold. Wriggling frantically. He kept a tight hold on the girl’s arms and eventually she fell lifeless into the arms of a hunter as he finished his prey. Leaning the dead form against a tree, he struck a match and tossed it effortlessly to the corpse and watched the flames.
Casually strolling down the pebble clad drive way to his 1967 Chevy camarios; he was dressed in full black. Gucci jeans with a John Varvatos long sleeved shirt and Black ankle high hiking boots. To complement his perfect outfit he had his black leather jacket slumped over his shoulder. Shielding his fathomless icy blue eyes lay his reflective black rayban sunglasses. The eldest Salvatore brother looked the image of a male model.
Eighteen, maybe even nineteen, no older. A pale princess stumbled through the forest that very night. Terrified. Hurting. Dizzy. Her body slowly froze into an endless world of darkness; she fell to the floor huddled amongst the leaves. Desperately, a small whimper left her lips as a last call of help.
Blood. His only weakness. The tangy smell caught his nose in surprise. The scent of fear struck him. A panted breath hung in the air around the vampire boy. He slowly wondered away from his car and slipped into the woods to investigate. To his much surprise he found a small girl, curled beneath a tree. Skin as pale as snow, a tint of blue around her mouth.
“Hello?” he called as the blood started panging at his nostrils. All of his instincts were screaming at him to attack. Kill. It was trying to take over his mind. As the boy tackled with his thoughts, the girl took in a deep breath.
If she hadn’t of been bleeding out, he would have presumed she was dead. No more movement. No heaving chest. The only indicator of life in this tiny being was the throbbing in his fangs. His head was pounding, jaw aching. His mind telling him to bite; snack, finish her off. One look at the small girl, however, and he knew somewhere deep inside, he could not kill her.
Crouching down beside her; he bit his wrist and placed it carefully to her frost kissed lips, parting them gently.
“drink.” He commanded, to stop her from bleeding to death, and partly to stop the aching pain cutting into his guns as his fangs extended. He clenched his fist, forcing the blood into her mouth. She was struggling against his hold, the coppery taste tingling her taste buds. Finally she submitted to the help of this predator, her weak form relaxing into his strong arms.
Damon moved his wrist away and lifted her effortlessly from the snow. Her face, her chalky white face was in complete contrast to his Italian tanned complexion. The figure in his hold was freezing cold, weak and lifeless. From his experiences from being around human life, he knew, that if he didn’t get her warmed up... her body would go into lockdown.
Looking around for passersby, he blurred through the trees and into the house. He was half expecting to be greeted and bombarded by his over caring brother, to his dismay he wasn’t. The one time he could have used his wisdom and education of the ever brooding, saint Stefan, he was nowhere to be seen.
Leaping up the stairs Damon was worried; The small porcelain doll in his arms growing colder. He carefully lay her on the bed as a tap at the door startled him. A string of curses left his mouth in the direction of the door and his brother walked into the room.
“chill out brother, it’s only... DAMON!” he yelled. “what the hell are you doing?!” he watched as his older brother gathered towels from the bathroom and launched them into his arms.
“Get me hot towels and herbal tea!” he shouted, shoving his brother out of the room and slamming the door shut in his face.
“Damon!?” he yelled.
“Stefan! Go! Now! Please...” he cried out through the door as he sat on the edge of the bed.
Stefan walked down the stairs counting the steps he took, holding the towels in his arms. Elena was expecting him round soon; but he couldn’t leave that girl with Damon alone. Boiling the water he wondered exactly why Damon needed them. Whatever his brother was up to; be it good or bad, he was going to find out.
Damon took out a cloth from the bathroom and dampened it under the warm tap wiping the blood from her skin. A knock rung though the room and he lunged for it; taking the pile out of Stefan’s hands and hurrying back to the bed. He stripped the girl down to her underwear and examined her blood drenched form for damage that his blood hadn’t healed. Slowly, he ran his fingers over her icy figure.
“DAMON!” Stefan balled, dragging his brother away by the scruff of his collar on his jacket. Struggling against Stefan’s grip Damon growled.
“Stefan get off of me now! She’s dying!” he growled out; breaking his brothers hold and darting to the bed. Watching, Shocked into silence, Stefan was amazed. His brother: the deadly, dangerous, murderous, terror of a vampire fluttered around this helpless young girl, helping her. He was being nice, helping this poor defenceless child.
Wrapping the hot towels around her tightly; mind set to work, Damon did not acknowledge his little whining baby brother. He pulled the coddled little form and enclosed her, ever so gently, in the duvet.
“Stefan... How do i get her warm? Help me Stefan.” Stefan Salvatore had watched his dearest Damon grow as a killer, a monster. Damon had never, not once, asked the youngest brother to help him.
“Damon you’re doing fine. She’ll warm up in that. Who is she?” he asked calmly, not wishing to provoke the ticking time bomb that is his older brother. Damon shook his head in response.
“I’m not sure.” He replied as he climbed onto the bed beside her and placed two fingers to her neck gently.
“have you killed her?!” Stefan shouted now enraged by his brother’s reckless actions. Damon’s head swung around to face Stefan.