The Vampire Diaries: Bastard Line of Delgallo

Leon stood before the imposing gates of the Gemini Coven's compound in Portland, Oregon. The air was thick with the scent of ancient incense, and the stone walls seemed to hum with latent power. He had come seeking their expertise, knowing that the Gemini witches were the architects of the prison worlds—alternate planes of existence designed to contain supernatural beings. 

As he approached the central courtyard, he was met by Olivia Parker, a prominent member of the coven. Her sharp eyes assessed him with a mixture of curiosity and skepticism.

"You're the one seeking our assistance?" Olivia inquired, her tone both direct and cautious.

Leon nodded, maintaining his composure. "Yes. I require your expertise in creating a prison world to contain a formidable adversary."

Olivia raised an eyebrow. "And why should we help you? Our coven has its own interests to consider."

Leon was prepared for this. He had anticipated their reluctance and had come prepared with a compelling offer. "I understand your coven's need for resources and power," he began. "In exchange for your assistance, I can provide you with access to knowledge and artifacts that will enhance your magical abilities and secure your position in the supernatural hierarchy."

Olivia considered his words carefully. "And what exactly do you want us to do?"

"I need you to create a prison world—a dimension where my adversary can be contained indefinitely," Leon explained. "Your coven has the knowledge and power to accomplish this."

Olivia's gaze hardened. "Creating a prison world is no small feat. It requires significant magical energy and resources. What are you offering in return?"

Leon smiled, sensing an opportunity. "I can provide you with rare magical artifacts and knowledge that will enhance your coven's power. Additionally, I can offer assistance in neutralizing threats to your coven's existence."

Olivia appeared intrigued but remained cautious. "And how do we know we can trust you?"

Leon met her gaze steadily. "You have my word. I am a man of my word."

After a moment of silence, Olivia nodded. "Very well. We will assist you in creating the prison world. But remember, our assistance comes at a price. We expect you to honor your commitments."

Leon extended his hand. "Agreed."

As they shook hands, Leon felt a sense of accomplishment. He had secured the Gemini Coven's assistance, a crucial step in his plan. However, he knew that this alliance was fragile and that he would need to tread carefully to ensure that both parties upheld their end of the bargain.

With the agreement in place, Leon departed the coven's compound, his mind already turning to the next phase of his plan. The creation of the prison world was just the beginning. He had much work ahead to ensure that his adversary remained contained and that his own position remained unchallenged.

As he left the compound, Leon couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. The Gemini Coven was powerful, but their arrogance could be their downfall. He would need to keep a close eye on them to ensure that they didn't become a threat to his plans.

But for now, he had what he needed. The prison world would be created, and his adversary would be contained. The rest would come in time.

__________

Olivia Parker stepped into the dimly lit foyer of the Parker house, the ancestral home of the Gemini Coven. The air was thick with the scent of ancient incense, and the stone walls seemed to hum with latent power. Whispers—voices only she and her coven could hear—filtered through the walls like a haunting melody. The spirits that lingered in their home never truly quieted, always chattering, always watching.

As she moved further into the house, the whispers grew louder, then settled into a hushed reverence. Olivia made her way to the central room where her father, Joshua Parker, the leader of the Gemini Coven, awaited. His presence was commanding, his aura suffused with the ancient power of their bloodline. He had a sharp, angular face, his eyes pale and cold, reflecting the harsh truths of their craft.

"Dad," Olivia greeted, her voice steady but tinged with an unspoken tension. She knew what was coming—what had been agreed upon. Leon had secured their assistance in creating the prison world, but Olivia felt a deep, unsettling sensation that lingered, gnawing at the edges of her mind. The whispers had a certain urgency to them now, almost as if they knew something she did not.

Joshua nodded toward her with a stern expression. "He agreed," he said, his voice low and decisive. "Anna, Phill, you two head to Mystic Falls. Gather what we need. We will meet in North Carolina."

A young couple stepped out and quickly left the house to depart.

The spirits, who had been murmuring softly in the background, seemed to double in volume. Their voices rose in excitement, the air crackling with energy. Some of the witches in the room exchanged looks of anticipation. Their voices became like a chant—rejoicing at the promise of the ritual, of not Mikael's, but Leon's eventual capture.

But Olivia could not shake the feeling that something was wrong. Her brow furrowed as she observed the gathered witches, her father's confident and controlling demeanor. 

"Dad, I... I don't understand." She hesitated, unsure if she should voice the unease gnawing at her. "Leon's magic—it's unlike anything I've ever felt before. It's not the same as ours."

Joshua's gaze turned sharp, his piercing eyes studying Olivia. "What do you mean?" His tone was colder now, a glimmer of curiosity in his voice. 

Olivia hesitated again, the weight of her thoughts pressing down on her. The whispers of the spirits continued to echo around the room, but there was something... unsettling about their tone. It was as if they were trying to warn her, urging her to listen.

"It's the way his magic feels," she said finally, her voice almost a whisper. "It's dark, unpredictable. There's a ferocity to it, something alive in a way I don't fully understand. It feels dangerous—more so than the magic we wield, even with the merge. It's not simply the control of power; it's like it feeds off something else. Something... darker."

Joshua studied his daughter for a long moment, his gaze unwavering. The witches in the room remained silent, the spirits' whispers becoming fainter as if they, too, were listening. Olivia had always been perceptive, but her father's knowledge was vast. He was not one to show uncertainty, but for a moment, his expression darkened.

"We do what we must to ensure the survival of our coven," he said finally, his tone deliberate. "He has touched upon something ancient. A bane of witches" 

He leaned forward, his voice low but heavy with intent. "I don't know what his power is exactly, but the spirits fear it. Once Mikael is dealt with, we'll send them both away—two abominations gone. "

Olivia didn't reply immediately. She couldn't shake the feeling that Leon wasn't just another witch. His magic felt like an unknown force—a force she couldn't yet define. And she couldn't ignore the fact that the coven's merge, that very ritual that had given them their power, was grounded in similar, yet vastly different dark magic. The merging of two souls, one rising in power while the other was consumed.

There was something about him. She couldn't put her finger on it, but her instincts told her to be cautious.

As the murmurs of the witches around her continued, and her father's voice resumed issuing orders, Olivia's thoughts lingered on Leon. She would keep an eye on him, as she always did with the powerful and unpredictable. 

Olivia looked to her brother and he sighed to himself as he noticed something reckless cooking in her mind.

_______________

North Carolina

The night air was heavy with the scent of decay, the whisper of forgotten power lingering in the ruins where Leon Delgallo tread. His path had led him to a hunter of the undead, a force feared even by the Originals—Mikael, the vampire who feasted on his own kind.

Leon stood at the edge of an abandoned crypt, gazing upon the desiccated form chained beneath layers of protective sigils. Mikael's slumbering body twitched as if aware of Leon's presence, though centuries of forced starvation kept him dormant.

Leon smirked. Not for long.

He reached into his coat, fingers brushing against the hilt of his grandfather's blade. The weapon, infused with the sacrifices of countless vampires, pulsed with eager hunger. But Mikael was no ordinary prey—his sacrifice required more than a simple ritual.

The Gemini Coven held the answer.

The Gemini witches were predictable in their arrogance, convinced of their supremacy in all things magical. That made them easy to manipulate.

Leon approached them under the guise of a proposal—a prison world crafted to contain Mikael, forever hidden from those who might seek to wake him.

___________________

Mystic Falls—Bonnie Bennett's Bedroom

The room was dark, illuminated only by the soft glow of moonlight filtering through sheer curtains. Bonnie lay unconscious on her bed, her breathing slow and steady, unaware of the two figures standing over her.

Anna and Phill moved with practiced silence, their presence like shadows in the night. Anna pressed two fingers to Bonnie's forehead, whispering a spell that sent her deeper into sleep. They had no need for a struggle—only to take what they came for.

Phill drew a silver dagger, the blade catching the moonlight as he pressed it to the crook of her arm. Blood welled up instantly, rich with the ancestral power that ran through her veins. Anna held out a small vial, collecting every drop with precision, sealing it with a flick of her wrist.

As Phill muttered a second incantation, the wound sealed shut, leaving no trace of their intrusion. They exchanged a glance before stepping back, their work done. Bonnie Bennett had no idea of the power she carried—or the lengths others would go to steal it.

_______________________

The ritual was flawless.

The Gemini Coven cast their spell, and Mikael's body was engulfed in flickering light. A new prison world was formed, a timeless void where the vampire hunter would remain trapped, his hunger forever gnawing at his bones.

Leon watched with satisfaction as the ancient predator vanished. But the coven had underestimated him.

As the final incantation echoed, he felt it—the shift in the air, the betrayal woven into the spell. The ground beneath him darkened, the symbols shifting.

His vision blurred, and his body pulled through time and space. They had cast him into the same prison world. While all believed the deed was done. Olivia stood frozen as she remembered the sly smile on Leon's face before he vanished.

The image of him forever stamped into her mind

Olivia remembered Leon Delgallo as a vision of power and mystery, a man who commanded attention with his mere presence. His smooth, deep brown skin, rich and earthen, seemed almost carved from the ancient world itself, carrying the weight of something both primal and timeless. At six foot four, his towering frame was a masterpiece of strength and control, with broad shoulders, and a sculpted build that spoke of both discipline and raw power.

His face was framed by a full, neatly groomed beard, its texture like black silken wool, accentuating the sharp angles of his jaw. His twisted locks cascaded down his back, thick and well-maintained, each strand holding the stories of his lineage, woven with the magic of his bloodline. But it was his eyes—intense, hypnotic aquamarine—that held the true depth of his being. They burned like twin flames in the dark, holding the weight of knowledge, danger, and a promise of something far beyond mortal comprehension.

Strapped to the back of his waist rested a sheathed short sword, its hilt to the tip of the blade, carved from ancient bone, whispering of the rituals and blood that had once christened its blade. In his hand, he wielded a curved bone knife, its edge wickedly sharp, its form reminiscent of a talon—deadly, precise, and unforgiving. He was a predator wrapped in the allure of a man, darkness and desire woven seamlessly into his very essence.

How could she ever forget a man like that and the fear that lingered from his simple smirk in the face of his demise?