He pushes the invasive word to the back of his mind as he places his palm atop Caroline’s squirming belly. The life inside performing acrobatics inside of her, making her giggle excitedly. Stefan smiles at the sound and at the feeling of a tiny foot beneath his hand.
“Doesn’t that hurt?” he asks with a grin, replacing his hand with his lips and kissing her stomach atop her white cotton dress.
“Not really, it just feels….really bizarre,” she admits, contentment in her voice, running her fingers through Stefan’s hair.
Stefan ignores the persistent feeling that has been nagging him ever since he’s gotten Caroline…gotten everything he’s ever wanted. Stability and trust. Love and happiness. Too good to be true.
Too good for him.
He closes his eyes and ignores the thoughts as best he can.
“This will be over soon,” she says dreamily, and he can’t tell if she’s more relieved or disappointed.
He wonders if she feels it too. The transience of this time between them. When, even with the insanity of the circumstances, they’ve been able to pretend. To play house. To be normal. Or go through the motions anyway. If nothing else, it’s been cathartic.
For him to grieve his unborn child. For her to grieve her mother. Just a little bit of positivity. Of light among the darkness. Of life among the death. Even though, in the end, they’ll be left with nothing but each other.
He looks up at her, wondering if he’ll be enough to replace the hole that will surely be left in her heart at the end of this. To fill that unfillable void. He smiles sadly as she rubs her belly and scolds one of the twins with a laugh. And he knows that he never will.
Stefan lays down next to Caroline on the bed, scooping her up in arms, swollen belly and all and holds her securely against him. Feeling Alaric’s twins squirm between them. The light and the life that will be taken from Caroline all too soon. And it’s fleeting… passing….ephemeral and he wishes he can trap the moment.
Caroline meets his eyes and if she reads everything he’s thinking, she has the decency to try to hide it. She kisses him softly, taking his face in her warm hands.
“I love you,” she says, her voice sugar and honey.
Stefan’s heart turns to ice as the word bullies its way into his mind.
When I was fourteen, I had a best
friend named Boone Hicks. He was real sweet looking, with long blonde hair,
Irish green eyes, and an elvish face. He was a little on the short side, only
about five feet tall, and we hung out mostly indoors because he was so fair
skinned. His parents didn’t like him too much, though, and he spent most of his
time at my house, but I never minded it.
It was when his aunt announced
the gender of her unborn baby that things started to get weird. “When the
doctor told me, I was so excited,” His aunt Caroline said, rubbing her belly
affectionately. “I just knew it was going to be a girl.” We were all at Boone’s
house, sitting in the family room; he had invited me over to meet his aunt.
Boone just kind of stared at her with his piercing green eyes and a blank
“No, it’s going to be a boy.” He
said, still giving Caroline that heavy stare. She gave him a questioning look.
“But the doctors said it was a
“I guess there was a mistake,” he
said, his expression never changing. “It’s going to be a boy.”
His aunt stared back at him with
a worried look. “Are you feeling okay, Boone? Why are you saying these things?”
“I felt it.” He said simply,
shifting his eyes to the floor. His mother threw the book she had been reading
earlier at him, hitting him in the chest. It fell to the floor, but he didn’t
even look at it.
“Boone, hush up, you idiot! Quit
trying to scare your aunt!”
“Hang on, Julie,” his aunt said,
holding a hand up. “What else did you, uh… “Feel” about the baby?”
“Well, it’s a boy,” he said,
causing his mother to roll her eyes. “a-and it’s going to be born a month
early, January third at eleven thirty A.M to be exact.” He went into another
stare, eyes back on his aunt. “You were thinking about naming your girl
Addison, but you want to name your boy Aiden now.” His aunt went wide eyed.
“H-how did you know that?” She
asked, furrowing her eyebrows at him. “I haven’t told anyone about that!”
“I felt it.”
“No!” She yelled, grabbing his
shoulders. “How did you know that?”
“I told you, I felt it-”
“Quit saying that, you freak!”
“Hey!” I said, interfering the
fit that she was about to throw. “It was probably just a coincidence that he
guessed his name, I mean, how many choices are there, really? You said you
wanted it’s name to start with A, right?” I asked, recalling something Boone
had told me a couple weeks earlier. “Besides, you haven’t even figured out if
he was right about the birthdate or gender. Everyone just needs to calm down.”
Caroline looked at me for moment,
and I honestly thought she was about to slap me. She just stood up. “I’m
leaving.” And she did just that.
“Boone, you screw up! Get out!”
Mrs. Hicks yelled, shoving Boone and me out the front door. I decided to let
Boone sleep over at my house that night.
“Dude, why’d you do that?” I
asked him as we walked down the road, the sun setting in the distance. “I think
that was a little much.”
“But Viktor,” he said quietly,
sounding a little like he was about to cry. “I felt it.”
I felt shivers rack my spine at
that moment, and I slept as far away as I could from Boone that night. A few
months later, his aunt gave birth to a baby boy, one month early, on January
third at eleven A.M, and she named him Aiden. I don’t think he ever saw his
aunt Caroline again.
Months passed and we soon forgot
about the scare Boone had given his aunt. We went on with our normal lives,
hung out and played video games like old times. That was, until my accident.
I was walking home from school
one day, alone because Boone was home with a cold. The school was only a couple
blocks from my house, but I decided to stop by a gas station and get a Pepsi
before heading home. Too do that, though, I had to cross the street. Keep in
mind, I was fourteen. If I didn’t see a car passing straight in front of me, I
was not going to wait before running across the street. I began jogging across
the road without a second thought. All I heard was squealing tires and a crash,
then nothing. When I came to, I was being wheeled into a hospital room and
poked with needles.
I don’t know how long I had been
in there when one of the doctors came into my room. “Excuse me, sir, but
someone’s here to see you.”
I expected it to be my parents,
but it was Boone who came through the door. He rushed to my side, tears in his
eyes. His hands hovered over me, like he was scared if he touched me he would
hurt me. He finally settled one on my forehead. “I knew I’d find you here,” he
mumbled, lips trembling. “I felt it.”
I shivered at those words. I didn’t
know what was going on with Boone, but it was scaring me a little. “Did you
call my parents?”
“Yeah,” he said, sitting in one
of the plastic chairs beside the hospital bed. “They’re on their way.”
“Boone,” I started, turning my
head to look at him. I couldn’t move my left leg, and I had a killer headache.
“What are these “feelings” you get?” I had to ask; it was eating at me.
“I don’t know,” he mumbled,
playing with his shirt sleeves. “I’ll just be sitting there and all the sudden
I know about something before it happens. Or before anyone knows about it.”
I looked at his Irish green eyes
one more time. They looked far more frightened than I felt. “That’s… That’s
He grinned at me, then my parents
came in, bawling and yelling about how I should’ve watched for cars. I was put
in a cast later that day, my left leg was declared broken, and I had a minor
It was a year later before Boone
had anymore “feelings”, but his last one haunts me to this very day.
It was a perfectly normal day,
just like any other, except for the fact that Boone had been exceptionally
quiet at school. I asked him about it at lunch, but he shrugged me off saying
he hadn’t got much sleep the night before. I wasn’t convinced, but I dropped
it. Boone didn’t walk home with me that afternoon, but I didn’t run across the
road again. I went home, did homework, ate dinner, and went to sleep like
I awoke to tapping on my window
at what my clock said was two in the morning. I moaned, rubbing my eyes and
rolling over to face the window. Boone stood outside, in his pajamas, motioning
for me to come over. I sighed, falling out of bed and shuffling to the window.
I unlatched it and yanked it open, popping my head out. “What is it? Shouldn’t
you be in bed?”
“Come on,” he motioned for me to
climb outside. I raised an eyebrow at him.
“Shhhhh! Come out, we’re going to
the police station.”
“What the heck are you talking
about?” I asked, closing my eyes. I just wanted to slam the window in his face
and go back to bed.
“Just trust me!” He gave me a
pleading look and I grudgingly put on my shoes.
“Fine,” I snapped, climbing out
of the window and hopping to the ground. “But if my parents find out, you’re
dead.” Boone didn’t say anything, just began jogging towards the police
You should have seen the look on
the police officer’s face when Boone asked him to do my finger prints. He
looked at him like he had two heads, but took me into a room and did as Boone
said. After I washed the ink off of my fingers, I came back into the front room
where Boone was saying something to one of the officers. When I got closer, I
heard him telling him to compare my fingerprints to the ones of a missing
persons case from eleven years before. I stopped dead in my tracks. He had to
I felt something like a weight
drop in my stomach and I thought for a second I was going to be sick all over
the police station floor. I started shaking, then I tore out of the door before
they noticed I was listening. I left Boone at the police station that night,
running all the way home. I climbed through my window, collapsed on my bed, and
cried myself to sleep.
It was a few weeks later when my
“parents” were sent to court, and then sentenced to prison for kidnapping.
Apparently, my name wasn’t Viktor. It’s Garret, and I was taken from my parents
when I was only four years old. The police found my real parents, who I met the
day my “parents” went to prison. They were bawling and hugging me, saying they
thought they’d never see me again. They told me I’d be moving with them several
states away, back to my home in Montana. I’d be leaving Boone.
Our goodbyes were short, and they
ended with a long hug and a few tears. I would never forget Boone Hicks and the
impact he had on my life, and as I watched him waving goodbye to me when I
boarded the plane to Montana with my real parents, I didn’t have any questions
about how he knew I’d been a missing person’s case. I knew he felt it.
I was unable to find the author
of this creepypasta.