That night… Caroline woke up with ragged breathing…
She could hear everything louder and her vision kept zooming in and out like a camera that couldn't focus.
"Nik…" she grabbed her phone and then shook her head. "No… Nik is going through the same thing I am."
She was aware she was already in transition and she knew what to do…
She walked into the hospital hallway and slipped a blood bag into the sleeve of her hospital gown.
With a sigh… she went back to her bed, pretending normality and lay down again, going through everything like the brave girl she was.
She didn't want to go through the transition alone… but at the same time she didn't think it was fair to call Nik since he had always done everything to make her life easier.
She really did have a husband even if they were only dating, but even the best husbands should let their wives handle some things on their own and Caroline, despite all the flaws she placed on herself, knew she needed to depend less on Nik — she hadn't even been able to react when he died.
No… she couldn't tolerate that…
She was flawed and not even close to being the girlfriend Nik deserved.
But… Nik had always loved her despite her flaws and from the day she confessed to him… Nik never looked at other women again.
He never went out with the "friends" he used to sleep with in secret before Caroline confessed and even better… he never even looked at Elena… the source of Caroline's insecurity.
Ohhh… Elena the perfect one…
Everyone always chose her…
She was always the favorite, the little doll everyone wanted to protect…
Not her… she was always Caroline… the second option…
And when she was chosen that bitch Elena tried to steal her boyfriend.
No… she couldn't allow herself to lose…
She looked at the blood bag and made the decision.
The first thing Caroline noticed was the silence.
Not the silence of the hospital.
The silence inside her.
No uneven heartbeat.
No air going in and out.
Just… emptiness.
And then came the smell.
Blood.
It was no longer a smell.
It was a color.
It was a sound.
It was a texture sliding down her throat before she even drank.
Her entire body reacted at the same time.
As if every cell had woken up screaming.
She ripped the blood bag open.
The liquid touched her tongue —
and the world exploded.
It wasn't pleasure.
Pleasure was too small for that.
It was an overload.
As if someone had lit a thousand suns behind her eyes.
As if every nerve in her body were exposed electric wires.
Her back arched on the bed, her fingers digging into the sheet.
Her vision went white.
Every swallow was a wave crossing her body — violent, absolute, addictive.
The sound of the plastic crumpling in her hand sounded like thunder.
The taste.
Warm even though it was cold.
Alive even though it was dead.
Perfect.
And then the real hunger came.
Not for the bag.
For people.
In the room next door — a patient.
Weak pulse.
Thin skin.
Veins calling.
In the hallway — the nurse.
Blood running fast.
Too fast.
She heard it.
She felt it.
It was as if the entire hospital were a single organism pulsing just for her to feed.
Her fangs came down completely.
Her face changed.
Her eyes darkened.
And for a second—
Caroline wanted to go.
Wanted to run.
Wanted to rip doors apart.
Wanted to bite.
Wanted to drink until the world stopped spinning.
Because it wasn't just hunger.
It was power.
It was clarity.
It was euphoria.
It was the sensation that everything was finally in the right place.
And that's when the panic came.
"No… no… no…" she whispered, her voice distorted.
Her hands were shaking.
She threw the empty bag away like it was a dangerous drug.
The instinct screamed:
more
more
more
She fell from the bed.
On her knees.
Her nails scraping the floor.
Her vampire face reflected in the metal of the gurney.
"Control…" she said, but now it wasn't a beautiful word.
It was a rope.
And she was holding onto it over an abyss.
The heart of the patient next door missed a beat.
Caroline appeared at the door before she even realized she had moved.
Speed.
Natural.
Terrifying.
Her hand was already on the doorknob.
Her fangs hurt.
Her throat burned.
Her eyes fixed on the unconscious man's jugular.
Just one bite.
Just one.
No one would know.
She deserved it.
She had died.
She had suffered.
She had been the second option her entire life.
She had the right.
Her hand tightened on the handle.
The metal bent.
And then—
Nik.
Not physically.
The memory.
The way he used to say:
"You're stronger than you think."
She stepped back as if she had been pulled.
A scream trapped in her throat.
Her back hit the hallway wall.
"I AM NOT LIKE THIS!"
Her voice echoed low, full of despair.
The hunger answered with pain.
Now it wasn't euphoria.
It was withdrawal.
It was her body demanding.
It was every instinct telling her she was making the wrong choice.
Tears came — even without breathing.
"I'm not going to hurt anyone…" she repeated like a broken mantra.
And that…
That was Caroline Forbes.
Not the strongest.
Not the destined one.
Not the perfect one.
But the one who fought herself with teeth and claws.