"𝒾𝓉'𝓈 𝓂ℯ, 𝒽𝒾, 𝒾'𝓂 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓅𝓇ℴ𝒷𝓁ℯ𝓂, 𝒾𝓉'𝓈 𝓂ℯ"

It had been around twenty-four hours since Ophelia had witnessed the supernatural torturing session. She had been antsy with curiosity and wants to do something. Her bones itch for her to participate in something violent, and naturally, her head encourages her to go along with it. Ophelia Stone has a large passion for violence. She revels in the way her victims run for their lives, pleading with their screams before she merely rolls her eyes and sinks her teeth into their necks. It's something she has craved on a daily basis for as long as she can remember. After all, being a hybrid only heightened her desires. And without her humanity? The green-eyed girl is a force to be reckoned with.

It also means she doesn't think. Well, more like she's a lot more impulsive than usual. Without her humanity, Ophelia doesn't think before she does something. She doesn't think of the consequences her actions might possibly bring in the foreseeable future. It makes her reckless, and a reckless hybrid in Beacon Hills... That's incredibly dangerous; for the others, not herself. Just like the hunter left in the middle of the woods the other night. Reckless.

And because the girl has collected the habit of being impulsive, it means that she didn't think twice about wanting to find Derek, the werewolf she had seen with Scott. Yeah, she's skipping school today and tomorrow. So what? That's precisely the reason why she loves compulsion.

"Fuck 'staying safe,'" the blonde mutters. Her white Doc Marten kicks a stone mixed in a pile of leaves, the object flying the air and landing in a stream a few metres away. "When am I ever 'safe'? When have I ever cared about being 'safe' in the first place? Fuck you, Nik, Rebekah, Elijah-" Ophelia throws her hands up into the air and heavily sighs. However, once realising that no siblings are with her to complain and fuss over her, she stops walking and a smile tugs at her lips.

For the second time in her life, she's finally alone. This time though, it's intentional. She made the choice to leave her family, not the other way around.

As the hybrid casually strolls through the Preserve with the goal of ending up where the torture had occurred the other night, she quietly hums a song that hadn't left her head for the last few days. Curse stupid supernatural hearing. When she finally reaches the large rock formation that looks fairly familiar, she stops in her tracks and closes her eyes to block out any nearby distractions. The teenager sucks a deep breath, allowing her senses to take in the different scents that hit her like a wave. Almost instantaneously she is able to pick out Scott and Derek's.

Humans and supernatural creatures hold a stark difference in scent. Werewolves, well, they smell like dogs. Vampires... As Bonnie Bennet used to imagine, they smell like death, which is a hard thing to describe.

Scott McCall's scent causes Ophelia's nose to scrunch up in distaste as her eyes open, and she coughs for a few seconds. It's so putrid that she can pick out each chemo-signal even though they're a few days old. Fear, confusion, and shock. Derek's is similar, yet nowhere near as strong.

"Who are you?" 

Ophelia's jaw clenches at the voice that calls out to her, and she spins around, then using her heightened abilities to dart forward and pin the figure against a tree. With dark veins crawling on her cheeks and fangs baring threateningly, her eyes glow as she tightens her grip on their throat. Even when she realises who it is, her deadly demeanour doesn't change.

Derek's eyes are wide in shock as he attempts to pull her hand away from his throat. Yet his heart rate increases when realising that even his werewolf strength is no match for the girl before him.

"You're an Alpha?" Ophelia taunts. "Now, this is just pathetic, Derek."

"W-what are you?"

The girl giggles and licks her lips as she raises her eyebrows. "That's for me to know and for you to dot dot dot." With now only her eyes glowing, Ophelia steps backward from the man and brushes her palms against her jeans. When she goes to look up again to see his own eyes shining like the other day, she cheekily smiles. "I wouldn't try anything, mate. You're only going to get yourself killed."

Derek scoffs in disbelief and squares his shoulders back as he regains his composure. "I'm going to ask again, who and what the fuck are you? And how do you know my name?"

"So many questions," the girl replies blandly. "My name is Ophelia, I'm a special concoction of a few magical creatures, and I saw you the other night with your puppy dog."

The man's eyes narrow sceptically as he scans her up and down, until realisation hits him. "You're the wolf."

"Ding, ding, ding!"

"What are you doing in Beacon Hills?" Derek continues to press.

"Got bored back home and decided I needed a trip. Although I wasn't expecting to see a torture session so suddenly... Does that happen on a weekly basis here?" When Derek only stares back at her, Ophelia's lips upturn into a sweet smile. "Choose your answer wisely because the wrong one will cause me to stay."

"No," he cautiously replies.

"Looks like I'm gonna be sticking around for a while!" Ophelia laughs at the horror that quickly flashes across his face and she pouts in disappointment. "Don't look so scared, Der Bear. My turn to ask the questions now. Scott's a werewolf, I've figured that much... Is he in your pack?"

Derek's arms fold across his leather jacket, and he sighs upon realising that there is no way to escape his current situation. The strange girl is somehow faster than him and stronger than him. His only solution is to talk, answer her questions, and hope she leaves him alone without any injuries. "No, he's not."

Ophelia clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth in understanding. "Ah, he's an Omega. Sucks to be him then. Alright, next question: how many hunters are there? You know, I like to plan out my massacres and such. " Once she notices his reluctance to answer, her eyes narrow slightly. "I'm going to ask one more time. How many hunters are there in Beacon Hills?"

"There's a family, the Argents."

"Silver in French," Ophelia mutters to herself. "Oh, that's hilarious." Over time, Ophelia had come to realise that despite the myths, silver didn't do much at all to wound werewolves. She finds it incredibly ironic that this family, the Argents, are the Beacon Hills' group of supernatural hunters.

"They moved back at the beginning of the year, and we've had a bit of trouble with them. My uncle killed Gerard's daughter, the older man you saw with the sword, so now he wants to kill all of us," Derek finishes with a sigh.

"Firstly, I didn't ask for your entire life story," Ophelia critiques. However, her head tilts to the side as she repeats his explanation in her head. "Secondly, I have a feeling your uncle and I are gonna be besties," she adds on in amusement. "What I do know is that hunters normally have a code or some sort of limit that they won't cross... I'm assuming this 'Gerard' guy doesn't give a shit about that?"

"Appears so," Derek slowly answers. "What are you?"

Ophelia sighs and walks over to lean her back against the trunk of the tree. "Still the same answer as before, wolfie. How many dogs in this place?"

Derek pauses before rolling his eyes in defeat. "Me, Scott, and Isaac."

The girl's eyebrows raise in question, and she gestures a hand for the man to elaborate. "What about your uncle? And who the fuck is Isaac? Details, Der. Details."

"My uncle's dead," he bluntly responds. "Isaac is a kid at the high school, I turned him the other day."

"Oh, now that's interesting..."

"There are a couple of other packs," Derek continues. "But they're well hidden, no-one knows where they are anymore."

Ophelia frowns and she softly sighs through her nose. "That's disappointing. Not as much fun as I thought."

The man studies her in bewilderment. "Okay, seriously, what the fuck are you doing here? If you were going to kill me, you would've done it by now." She pushes off the tree and stops a metre before him, her features blank and void of any emotion.

Not many things are enough to scare Derek Hale. Yet that alone sends a shiver down his back.

"Derek, I'm just here to have a little fun and pass the time," she innocently states. "So far, that's probably going to involve me in slaughtering all of those bastards we like to call hunters."

"You're going to kill them?" Derek asks incredulously, his eyes wide at how willing she appears to want to follow through with it.

"Yes. I'm going to kill them. I take it you don't have a problem with that? Who am I kidding, even if you did, I'd go and do it anyways!" Ophelia gives him another charming smile before wiggling her fingers as a goodbye. "Lovely to finally meet you, Der Bear. We're going to be seeing a lot more of each other. Toodles!"

Before the Alpha can get another word out of his mouth, the girl disappears. Instead, Derek continues to stare at where she had been standing milliseconds ago, his eyes wide in disbelief. "What the fuck just happened?"

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

Walking through the halls of the high school, the students that fawned over the girl earlier in the week now try their best to stay as far away from her as possible. Some would say it's her resting bitch face. The Mikaelsons would say that this expression is one-hundred times worse.

Someone had pissed Ophelia Stone off, big time.

Someone owning a silver Porsche.

Instead of using the spot that she had marked last week as her own, Ophelia had been forced to place her cherry car into a different parking bay, the only benefit of it being in the shade. She had quickly made it her mission to track down the owner of the in her words, 'disgusting piece of shit,' and compel them to let her have the space.

So, as the girl heads to her maths class, she passes by what she assumes is the boys locker room. When she catches the sound of metal clattering onto the floor, whatever is occurring inside makes her stop and watch through the open door with enjoyment.

Ophelia quietly giggles as Stiles and Scott can only stare helplessly as a pile of chains fall out of one of their lockers, the entire room watching on and struggling to control their laughter. She smirks when an older adult comes to stand next to Stiles, presumably the Coach for the sports team. When the final link drops to the floor, the man continues to chew his gum before saying, "Part of me wants to ask..."

"Please ask," Ophelia mumbles.

"The other part says knowing will be more disturbing than anything I could ever imagine. So, I'm gonna walk away."

"That's good," Stiles calls out after the adult. "That's a wise choice, Coach!"

Ophelia rolls her eyes and pops her bubblegum before walking off out of boredom. "Amateurs." As the girl makes her way through the strangely empty corridors with the scowl still painted on her features, she realises why the journey to her maths class had been fairly easy so far.

Crowded around the stairwell to the entry doors are a group of students, eagerly chatting amongst one another with gossip. The Stone stops and tunes into her supernatural hearing.

"Look, she's back..."

"Do you reckon she did it on purpose? For attention?"

"Stacey, come on. You really think she'd run through the woods, naked, for days?"

When the whispers come to an abrupt stop, Ophelia catches sight of two girls appear at the top of the stairs. The strawberry blonde has her eyes narrowed as she glares each of the gossiping teenagers off, and the brunette trailing behind her watches along in amusement.

Over the past few days she had been in Beacon Hills, Ophelia had caught the news that a teenage girl had escaped the hospital and gone missing in the Preserve until she was found the night the supernatural torture session took place. Although by the confident attitude the strawberry blonde holds, one wouldn't be able to tell the trauma she had just been through.

"I haven't seen you before. What's your name?"

Ophelia is snapped out of her slight daze, and her eyebrows raise at the figures now standing before her. "Why the hell should I tell you?"

The two girls share a glance, the dark-haired girl casting her eyes to the floor and nervously clearing her throat. "Sorry, we'll leave you alone," she quickly apologises.

"Cheers," Ophelia replies as she turns her back and walks away.

However, to her disappointment, the strawberry blonde raises a hand and tuts in disapproval. "No, now I'm even more curious."

A smirk toys at Ophelia's lips as she spins around. Then she trails her eyes down the girl's body, causing a faint blush to appear on her cheeks. "Sorry, love," the hybrid drawls out. "Looks like you're gonna have to stay curious." As she saunters away to finally find her math class, Ophelia gives a breathy chuckle as she hears the pairs' next words.

"Lydia, stop staring at her!"

"Allison, do you have eyes? Look at her, she's a fucking walking goddess."

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

Of course Ophelia didn't participate in maths. In fact, she spent the entire lesson ripping the paper out of her stolen algebra textbook before scrunching it up into tiny balls and violently throwing them at the student seated in front of her. Then with no surprise, she compelled her teacher for no detention and zero homework.

To anyone but herself, the prime example being her siblings, they might seem appalled at the fact the girl with no emotions is even stepping foot on the grounds of a high school. In Ophelia's defence, she had only attended two days out of the six school days during the time she had been residing in Beacon Hills for. So, technically, it's just a real-life reality show to go and watch whenever she wants.

After dumping her bag in her car and locking the vehicle, the blonde walks down the path to the lacrosse fields with the intention of continuing past into the Preserve and going for an afternoon run. Though that plan is quickly set on hold at what she finds occurring on the grounds. Leaning on the staircase railing, Ophelia's eyebrows raise as she surveys the lacrosse players train for the afternoon. In particular, her eyes focus onto one particular jersey. "Number eleven's either high or just fucking stupid," she comments. When said boy tackles another player harshly onto the ground, she winces. "Oh, that's brutal..."

The girl's jaw drops when she thinks she sees the player marked with the number eleven sniff the player on the floor. Ophelia hasn't ever seen a game of lacrosse before, but she has a strong feeling that this isn't what a goalie is supposed to do.

"McCall! Usually the goalie stays somewhere within the vicinity of the actual goal."

Ophelia loudly laughs when she realises exactly who the player she had been watching is. "Scott McCall. No, he's a fucking idiot!"

"Yes, Coach."

"Let's try it again!"

Across the next ten minutes, Ophelia is present to see Scott repeatedly slam player after player into the dirt. "That one's gotta hurt," she mumbles with a grimace.

"McCall! The position's goalkeeper, not goal abandoner!"

"Sorry, Coach..."

"Let's go!"

Letting her eyes scan across the field, mischief twinkles within them as she spots a familiar figure clad in a black leather jacket standing out of sight, behind the bleachers. "Hi, Der Bear!"

Derek's eyes widen and he takes a step backward in shock when meeting the gaze of the girl standing before him who wasn't there a few seconds ago. Upon realising who it is, he heavily sighs in something that could be irritation or exhaustion. "Not you again..."

Ophelia rolls her eyes and folds her arms across her red jacket. "You could at least pretend you enjoy seeing me." When she receives a scoff in response, the girl giggles. "All right, care to explain to me why you're watching a high school lacrosse training session when you're clearly not a player yourself?"

"Why do you care?" Derek retorts curtly.

"Oh, I don't," she quickly corrects. "It was getting awkward so I made some conversation."

After a minute of listening to her incessant chewing on a piece of strawberry bubblegum, Derek rolls his eyes and looks over to the girl in exasperation. "Do you want something, or are you just here to piss me off?"

She gives him a wide grin and throws her arms up into the air. "No- fine, you got me. What's your puppy pal doing on the field?"

"Wanna take a guess?"

Her eyes flick back onto the field, and she stifles a laugh when she finds Scott leaning closer to his current victim, then once again sniff him. "Oh, my... Is he doing what I think he's doing?"

"Sadly," Derek replies grimly.

"He's trying to find out who's a werewolf," she exclaims with joy. Ophelia clasps her hands together in excitement and snickers when Derek rolls his eyes for what seems like the millionth time throughout their conversation. "This is brilliant!"

"Shut up," he snaps.

When Ophelia hears the subtle change in the man's heartbeat pattern, she turns her head over to him in question. Returning to the field, a smirk lifts at her lips when seeing who the next player to run at Scott is, and she connects the dots together. "That's Isaac, isn't it?"

"Yep."

"Grab the popcorn, Der. This is getting good."

Both players dart forward at the whistle, however, this time Isaac seems to be prepared and knows exactly what Scott is planning on doing. They jump up into the air, but the action only causes them to heavily crash onto the ground. The two boys crouch opposite one another in a defensive manner, each breathing heavily. "That's dramatic," Derek mumbles.

"It's a werewolf thing," Ophelia replies, her eyes not moving off the teenagers.

"Trust me, I know."

Their attention returns when the Coach blows his whistle, yet everyone on the grounds turns towards the three cops walking in their direction. "I knew Scott was on drugs," Ophelia whispers to herself.

"What?"

"Nothing to worry your head about," the blonde reassures brightly. "As fun as this has been, that's my cue to leave." After saluting to him and giving him a final wave, she becomes a blur as she disappears from sight.

"How the fuck does she do that?" Derek questions in disbelief, yet his voice is laced with awe at the girl's supernatural abilities.

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

By nine o'clock at night, Ophelia had buried herself in the basement of her new house. She had left the high school after Scott's stunt at the lacrosse training, immediately returning to her car and driving home instead of taking a detour through the nature preserve.

One of the many benefits of being part vampire is that Ophelia Stone no longer experiences the brutal and agonising transformations once a month when the moon was full. She no longer has to go through the feeling of every bone in her body snapping in half, the process dragging across for the entire night. She is content with her current self. For once, Ophelia is happy with who she has become. Once upon in her life, the girl despised her werewolf gene with all her might. She would wish that Heaven would bless her with an angel, someone who would have the power to take away her pain and wash the dread that came along with every transformation away.

However, when Niklaus Mikaelson came to her one morning and offered the chance to become just like him, the teenager didn't hesitate for a single second before accepting the opportunity. He taught her to embrace her wolf, more so, to enjoy it.

A hybrid possesses the strengths and weaknesses of both their original species, the vampire and werewolf. Becoming a new supernatural creature came with its own formidable benefits unique to the hybrid species alone. Klaus and Ophelia discovered the different abilities they suddenly shared with one another together. They went through the journey of finding out how they didn't have to bear the pain of turning every full moon, instead, whenever they wanted. To Ophelia's surprise, the girl wasn't confined to the night nor having to wear an emblem spelled with magic to avoid burning to death in the sun.

The hybrid is at the top of the supernatural food chain. Their strength would only increase with age courtesy of their vampire side, and would increase when they become angered, due to their werewolf side. Then of course there's the added bonus of everything being amplified on a full moon.

The werewolf gene no longer was a curse to Ophelia. It became a blessing.

As the girl sits on her knees, she sucks the droplet of blood off her fingertip before letting a sigh escape her lips in content. Empty bags are strewn across the room, surrounding her in a bloody mess. Literally. Her chin is decorated with stains of dried and fresh blood, and the dark veins of ivy are prominent under her eyes as she drains another bag of B positive. The gift that Niklaus had left her before leaving: a cooler box of blood bags. In his words, 'To keep the attention off you so you don't have to raid a hospital.'

For Ophelia, blood bags aren't her ideal form to ingest the delicacy. Obviously, it isn't the worst way, because she would take a bag any day over having to find and kill a rabbit. The girl would do anything to avoid animal blood.

Although the cooler was rather large, it took her less than a week to empty it out. Which after today, left Ophelia with three options for the future. Compel or kill a human, break into the hospital, or resort to her last choice; becoming Stefan Salvatore. Just the thought of picking up the older vampire's habits makes her grimace in disgust.

The scent of human blood is intoxicating, it gives her a feeling that makes her feel as if she is on top of the world. It's addictive, and the temptation she feels to continue drinking litres and litres of it makes Ophelia Stone savage and perilous.

One might call the girl a Ripper.

"All right, Rachel Green, I'm coming for you," she announces. Not caring about the red stains on her white shirt, Ophelia trudges back upstairs to collapse onto the couch and fall asleep watching Friends.

𝘏𝘪 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴!!

𝘚𝘰 𝘺𝘦𝘢, 𝘖𝘧𝘪'𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘚𝘢𝘭𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 😐 𝘙𝘐𝘗𝘗𝘈𝘈𝘈𝘈

𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘰𝘧𝘧, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘣𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨... 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦... 𝘊𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘣𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘭𝘺, 𝘪𝘧 𝘢 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘸𝘰𝘭𝘧 𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘋𝘐𝘌..

𝘚𝘰.. 𝘪𝘥𝘬, 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘚𝘤𝘰𝘵𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘋𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘬? 𝘞𝘩𝘰𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘮𝘢𝘰 

𝘋𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳,
𝘓𝘪𝘷 𝘹𝘹