Chapter 19: The Fall of Flame
The ground beneath Mystic Falls was drenched in blood.
And the storm still raged overhead, howling with every scream, every curse, every clash of fangs and claws.
Kol Mikaelson wiped the blood from his mouth, a cracked smile stretching across his torn lips.
"Still breathing, bastard?"
Alexander pushed his weary body off the ground, blood bursting from a deep wound in his ribs.
One of his arms hung limp, torn down to the bone. His right arm—the one shattered by Kai's spell—was wrecked: burnt, cracked, and twitching.
And yet… he stood.
Behind him, Damon and Stefan fought like two sides of the same storm—though not truly the same coin—Stefan with deadly precision and silent rage, Damon with chaotic ferocity and merciless fury.
Bonnie, bleeding from a gash on her forehead, kept chanting defensive spells as the witches' fire rained down upon her.
Klaus was a whirlwind of wrath, tearing through Kol's soldiers one by one.
"Kol!" he roared. "You brought this war. Now taste it!"
Kol spun toward him, dodging his strike, and they clashed in a furious storm of Mikaelson rage.
Alexander staggered through the smoke, his breath ragged, every inch of his body screaming in pain.
The dagger used against him had been dipped in vervain and wolfsbane—his veins now burned with poison, the wound festering inside, devouring his strength.
And still… he did not fall.
He would not fall.
He could not.
Ash's voice whispered in his head, "Let me… let me take over. End it for you."
"No…" Alexander gritted out, "Not yet."
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Kai again—chanting a new spell, preparing a devastating strike.
Alexander growled and surged forward.
Agony tore through his shattered body with every step, but he reached him—slamming into Kai mid-incantation, driving him into a tree with surprising force.
The witch choked on the impact.
"Stay… down," Alexander rasped, voice raw.
But even as he said it, his knee buckled.
His vision began to blur.
Blood streamed from his lips.
The poison was stronger than he could endure.
He fell to one knee.
Then the other.
Stefan saw him collapsing and cried out, panic in his voice:
"Alexander!"
Kol turned toward the sound, saw his enemy falter—and burst out laughing:
"There it is… the bastard's broken."
Klaus glanced between Kol and Alexander, fury boiling past all reason.
"You'll regret touching him."
Kol didn't have the chance to reply.
Klaus lunged again.
They clashed with indescribable violence, bone shattering bone, rage colliding with rage.
Their battle devolved into primal savagery—no strategy, only vengeance.
Bonnie crawled to Alexander's side, casting a protection spell around him with the last of her energy.
His eyes fluttered open, unsteady, barely able to see.
"Can't… move," he whispered weakly.
"The dagger was poisoned…" Bonnie said shakily, "And Kai's spell… it hit your soul."
He coughed hard, blood coating his mouth, and muttered:
"Then… finish the fight."
"No." Bonnie whispered. "You've done enough."
Suddenly, Damon appeared beside them, his face smeared with blood, his breathing ragged:
"You're not dying. You hear me? No Salvatore dies while I'm still breathing."
Alexander gave him a tired smile.
"You're bleeding from your ear."
"And you're missing an arm."
"Fair trade."
They laughed—a short, broken laugh, but real.
The battlefield was drenched in blood, the stench of death choking the air.
Alexander lay trembling on the ground, his nerves burning from the vervain, wolfsbane, and dark magic.
Bonnie knelt over him, frantically chanting a healing spell, while Damon stood guard beside them, shielding them with his own body.
Then… it happened.
A sound.
Low.
Rough.
A wooden stake—crude, jagged, etched with ash and iron—pierced through Stefan Salvatore's chest.
The vampire who drove it in whispered with deadly ecstasy, his fangs dripping with bloodlust.
The stake stopped just breaths from Stefan's heart.
His eyes widened, blood flooding from his mouth, his hands clutching the trembling wood.
He dropped to his knees.
"Stefan!" Damon screamed, his soul tearing apart.
Klaus turned, eyes blazing with fury and disbelief.
"No…"
Time slowed.
Alexander's blurred vision locked on the scene—Stefan bleeding, kneeling in the dirt, struggling to breathe.
His brother.
The one who never gave up on him.
Who searched for him, bled for him, broke for him, risked everything to bring him back.
Something inside Alexander… snapped.
Not just his rage.
Not just his mind.
But his soul.
Ash stirred within him like a beast rising from eternal chains.
"Let me in…" the voice whispered.
Alexander didn't speak.
He didn't resist.
He didn't think.
He just… nodded.
And everything changed.
The air around his body rippled with dark energy.
Winds exploded outward from him like an angry storm.
Bonnie stumbled back.
Damon shielded his face from the raw blast.
Alexander's eyes, once calm green, turned pitch black.
His bones cracked in horrifying snaps.
His muscles warped and twisted, growing and contracting unnaturally.
His broken arm… healed with a sickening crunch, black tendrils of energy pulsing through his veins.
The shadow within—Ash—merged with him completely.
And he rose.
Silently.
Then moved.
Fast.
Faster than any human—or even vampire—could see.
In the blink of an eye, he was in front of Stefan's attacker.
In the next blink… there was no head.
Alexander stood over Stefan, his eyes glowing with fury and death.
"Touch him again…" he growled, "and I'll make hell weep."
His voice was doubled—his own, and Ash's, speaking like twin demons from one throat.
He turned.
And unleashed hell.
Alexander stormed into Kol's army.
No one could stop him.
One by one… he tore them apart.
A single punch… crushed bone.
A single scream… ended with a heart ripped from a chest.
A vampire tried to flee… Alexander grabbed his leg and slammed him into a tree so hard the trunk split in two.
Bonnie watched, trembling.
"That's not just him… that's something else…"
Klaus was stunned.
Damon grinned, blood still dripping from his mouth.
"Holy hell…"
Even Kol… stopped fighting, watching the monster he helped awaken.
Alexander turned to him, blood dripping from his claws.
"You wanted a war, Kol?" he said, voice drenched in shadow. "Now you have one."
Kol's smile vanished.
Alexander took one step toward him—and Kol ran.
Ran like the coward he was.
But Alexander didn't follow.
He stood at the center of the massacre, chest rising and falling, eyes glowing, his body soaked in blood.
Behind him, Stefan groaned—still alive.
Damon and Bonnie rushed to him.
Klaus approached Alexander, his steps cautious, stopping a few feet away.
"That wasn't you…" he said quietly. "That… thing…"
Alexander slowly turned his head toward him, voice low and distant:
"This is me now."
The beast.
The curse.
The shadow.
Ash.
They were all one.
And the battlefield fell silent once more—save for the groans of the few who survived, and the low, ongoing growl that rumbled deep in Alexander's chest.
And deep down… he knew this wasn't the end.
It was only the beginning.