Stirring slightly, the woman's fingers slid along the metal table, drawing his attention. He cautiously walked over to her, wondering... Has she awoken...?
He smiled as her eyes fluttered briefly, her long eyelashes catching the light of the lamp overhead. Gently, he lifted her arm and checked for a pulse. Yes...there it was... Finally, awake. I wonder how she will be... He thought, his fingers absently tracing her smooth, flawless, porcelain skin. She seems to be perfect...the perfect woman...have I finally succeeded? He smiled at the thought, and laid her arm back onto the cold metal of the examination table.
"Mmm..." She mumbled, and her eyes opened for a fraction of a second before they closed, but he had seen the iris's color. A light purple...like lavender...beautiful...remarkable... Just the same color as the purple mandragora DNA he had implanted in her. The last ingredient for the perfect servant...or so he hoped.
He checked the IV in her other arm, then sat back down in a chair and contemplated. Fourth creation...I shall name her...Daniella. Maybe she, too, will have Azoth like Ugo. She would be absolutely perfect then. But, she could also be another failure like Riccardo and Debilitas...with a small amount of it... He stopped the thought short before it could continue. No. He could not, would not allow that. Another failure would be too much to bear. For awhile, at least. Then he would try again, and again, and again, until he succeeded. After all, he could live forever, would live forever, and nothing, no one, could stop his research.
"Huh..." Daniella murmured, twitching slightly, and suddenly sat up, the IV almost ripped out of her arm by her sudden movement. He was at her side in an instant, eager and hopeful. With practiced hands, he rearranged the IV, and she watched him, staring... Confused, perhaps? Or just curious? He chuckled, and that seemed to alarm her, so he began talking to her in soothing tones.
"How are you feeling? Can you speak?" He asked, looking deeply into her eyes.
"...Feel...ing?" She replied, seeming confused, although she showed no facial expression.
"Ah, you can talk. Wonderful." He quickly checked her pulse again, and then took out the IV. Blood welled in the tiny spot where the needle had pierced her skin, and she stared at it, her lavender eyes expressionless. "What is this?" She asked after a moment, and her creator smiled.
"That is blood, my dear."
"Blood?"
"Precisely."
"Who are you?" She tilted her head to one side, her elegant lavender curls – the same color as her eyes – falling.
"I am your creator, your master, Lorenzo Belli, the great alchemist."
"Master." Her back went rigid for a moment, then she bowed as much as she could while sitting, her voice immediately changed from thoughtful and confused to respectful. He grinned, already having high hopes for his newest creation. At the word "master", she immediately became obedient, ready to serve. Wonderful.
"Who...am I...?" She asked, blinking, causing Lorenzo to smile again.
"Your name is Daniella."
"My name is Daniella..." She repeated, almost robot-like, and nodded.
"That's right. Now, come with me, we'll find you some different clothes." He said, gesturing at her simple, white gown, even though Lorenzo thought she would look beautiful even in a sackcloth dress, and it was true. She was the most striking thing he'd ever seen...perhaps she would become his lady...oh, he desperately hoped so.
"Yes, Master." She replied, and followed him out of the room, into the dark, foreboding castle she would learn to call home.
Daniella screamed. And screamed. And screamed, wondering what she was looking at, who she was looking at. Her Master covered his ears from her inhuman screech, and knew she had more mandragora DNA than he had thought, with that shriek. Her voice reached an octave too high for human ears, and the glass shattered outward, showering her in a halo of sparkling translucence. Lorenzo immediately rushed to her side, and pulled her away from the hazardous ruin.
"That's just your reflection, Daniella. Calm down. Don't be afraid." He soothed her, stroking her hair, her head resting on his chest. She obeyed his order immediately, and turned to look at her Master.
"Reflection...?" She asked, perplexed, her face still a mask.
"A reflection of yourself, dear."
"Of...myself...?"
"Yes. Come along, now." Daniella nodded, still not quite understanding, and was led by Lorenzo into a bedroom, one that overlooked a run-down garden, and once again, her reflection in the glass startled her, but Master had told her not to be afraid, so she wasn't. Instead, she studied herself, her tall form, her oddly colored hair and eyes, her pale, flawless skin. She didn't know what to make of herself, of her reflection. She would have to ask Master.
"Master...?" She began, thoughtfully, fearful of speaking out of turn.
"Yes, Daniella?" He asked, his voice slightly muffled as he searched for her new clothes in a wardrobe beside the window.
"What am I?" He stopped rummaging through the clothes and looked at her, confused. "What do you mean?" He almost growled.
"What...am I? Am I..." She searched for a word, and saw one on an open notebook on the bed. "Hideous?"
He spotted what she had looked at and took the book into his hands, slamming it shut, seeming angry. He grabbed her wrists, a little roughly, and said, "No. You are beautiful, Daniella. You are the perfect woman." He smiled briefly at her, then released her from his grip and continued his search.
"Beautiful...perfect...?" Lorenzo didn't answer, instead came up with an outfit.
"Put this on, Daniella, and I'll be right back." He commanded her, laying the clothes on the bed. Daniella bowed, then blinked, staring at the fire in the hearth, it's orange flames burning the wood to ashes. She blinked again, and then changed clothes quickly, and Lorenzo knocked on the door and came in soon after to find her sitting in a chair, awaiting further instruction. He scanned her up and down, admiring her beauty in the outfit he had picked out for her, a maid's outfit.
"That suits you well." He commented as he gently grabbed her arm. She didn't respond, just stared at her reflection in the window across from her, occasionally switching her attention to the flames in the fireplace. Reflections, mirrors, windows, and fire...is she just curious, or does she really not understand what they are? He thought to himself. "I'm going to make a cut on your palm, Daniella. Tell me if you feel anything."
"Yes, Master." She replied hollowly. He picked up his knife and made a quick, but deep, incision on her left palm. Blood immediately flowed forth, but she remained motionless.
"Do you feel anything? Do you feel pain?" He asked. She just stared at him, maybe not comprehending. He made another, similar cut, on her other palm, and questioned her again. She remained silent.
Lorenzo sighed. "So you cannot feel pain..." He wiped the knife clean of her blood on a napkin.
"I cannot feel...pain." She repeated, blinking. Lorenzo nodded slightly, and then handed her a cup of water, and told her to drink it. He had to instruct her to swallow, as well.
"Do you taste it? Can you taste?" He whispered eagerly, loud enough for her to hear. Silence, then: "I cannot taste." He cursed silently. Last test... He sighed, already expecting the outcome. He slowly moved his hand up her leg, and watched her expression carefully.
"Do you feel anything? Pleasure?" He asked, and his heart plummeted when she remained silent and then replied, "I cannot feel pleasure." Another failure...how can she be so perfect, but not...have so much beauty, so much potential...? "You are not complete!" He yelled in a sudden fit of rage, and left the room, slamming the door behind him, Daniella's palm still bleeding, wound neglected, her eyes still staring at her reflection in the window. "I am not complete." She whispered, and felt a deep hollowness within her. She felt as if she had...something...lacking...