May 29, 2021

It was March 30, 2021, when I stumbled across the Dimitrescu castle. It had been raining long before I woke up that day, so I can't tell you when the storm started. The forecast on my cell phone stated it was going to be cold at exactly fifty degrees for the next several days. I left the house in loose jeans and my old black coat with my college bookbag over my shoulder. I wish I could remember what happened after that, but even at this very moment as I write this, I can't.

I remember looking up at the castle. It was like something out of a movie, and I know that's clique to say, but it's the best way I can describe it. Old towers stretched towards the mist, dark sky. The rooftops were made of dark stone, void of any color. I never thought I would come across something so foreboding and massive. Pass the shower of rain, I could make out a faint light from one of the tower windows. I pushed forward, passed the stone gate, and up to the main doors. Two chalices burned on either side. If goldilocks taught me anything, I should have never progressed inside. But because of the downpour of rain, I was eager to get inside as to not damage my re-twisted dreads. The experience was all like being in a dream and not knowing how you got there.

When I was younger, I declared I was going to go through life carefully, making no regrets, but this decision became the worst regret of my life.

I stepped inside. There was a loud slam of metal against stone. I turned on my heels, spooked with my heart racing. The large old doors had locked behind black bars. I pulled on them, wanting to leave. It was no use. I wouldn't be able to get out the same way I came.

My clothes stuck to me from the rain as I moved forward. Before me was a set of stairs and a red line of carpet. It led up to a portrait on the wall of three young women in old-style Victorian-like clothes. Under the painting was a plaque that read:

Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela

Each girl sat close to each other. They had brown curls and the one on the right held a banquet of white flowers. The picture was very nice, but the women were perhaps long dead. I didn't dwell on the picture for too long. To my left was a tan door. That door took me to a long hallway with a red carpet and glamorous, polished, brown walls outlined in golden flower designs. There were tables with candle holders that lit up the halls, some were on desks, and others were pinned on walls. No sight of generic lights or any sorts of modern electricity.

So far, the castle's insides were not as bad as I thought they would be. Most of the hall was well-lit and immaculate. There were no spider webs hanging from the ceiling, and the windows were clean. At the time, I figured someone had to have been living in the castle. But still, there was a small, restless pit of nervousness in my stomach that wouldn't settle. After all, I was an uninvited guest, and the owner had every right to shoot me if they wanted to. I'm cautious of the current political climate, so I know how dangerous people can be. If it hadn't been raining, God knows I would have never walked into this castle.

I called out a few times. My voice echoed in the hallway, but there was no answer. Having no other choice, I ventured further inside until I came across a small hall to the right of me. I opened the door and found myself in a bigger room with a lit fireplace to my right and a polished, brown staircase to my left. Above me was a grand chandelier that twinkled and sparkled like diamonds in the sky, making this room the most well-lit area in the castle thus far. In the center were two cushioned chairs and a table with three empty teacups and a teakettle. I approached the table when it caught my eye; they looked to be antiques. I would not touch them, of course, but I peered inside. There was red residue at the bottom of the cups and a small, tangy smell. Blood? I rolled my eyes at the thought. Of course not. It's some type of red, expensive tea that I'm too poor to afford. Hell, I loved drinking non-coffee stuff out of my coffee mugs all the time. Some days I liked to pretend I'm elegant and rich too. Even though I hate rich people.

Even though the room was well lit and warm from the fireplace, I couldn't let go of the dread I felt in my gut. There was something spooky about this place. There were creeks and phantom sounds of doors opening, but there was no one around. For a place so massive, I was expecting a maid to address me by now. And then there was this smell. It smelt like the stuff in the antique cups, but very faint and ghostly. And like the touch of a ghost, there was a burn on the back of my neck, as if someone was watching me.

Someone appeared standing at the top of the stairs. I nearly broke my neck to look up. There was a tall, dark figure staring down at me. I gripped my bookbag straps on my shoulder, unable to make out its features entirely, but it was slim built like a woman. Waving, I said hello and apologized for being a trespasser. I told them I was lost and that I would be out of their hair if they showed me the way out.

I blinked. The figure disappeared.

There was buzzing, light at first, but it grew louder, until it was inescapable. Swarms of huge flies, the size of grapes, appeared before me in a black cloud. I dashed away, swaddling at them. Their buzzing was revolting, turning my stomach inside out. I turned and ran for another door, but the swarm appeared before me again. It took the form of a person. A woman. She smiled at me, her lips and cheeks drenched in a dark red substance. I thought I saw a maggot curl around her black lips.

"Mmmm, strange outsider," she said, and started cackling.

I caught sight of a curled knife in her hand. It was a sickle covered in a red liquid. She swung it at me and caught my belly. The pain was like being scratched by a cat, but ten times worse. I thought of what to do at that moment. I thought about all the TicToc videos I had seen on self-defense, but it was all worthless. I was too shocked to move. My legs had frozen under me. I grabbed at where she cut me open. My hand turned red with my blood.

I was afraid that If I turned; she was just going to cut me in my back. I pushed passed her instead and into another room. I slid on something and nearly fell. I looked down. There was a trail of blood on the floor leading out the room into another hall and mine was collecting with it.

This room had a door with a plaque nailed to the center and two handles. I pulled on the door, but it wouldn't budge. She trapped me.

I turned. There were three of them now. They all looked alike, with similar dark, tattered, hooded gowns. They waved their sharp sickles at me and mocked me, calling me an outsider, little girl, and such, all while laughing. Their clusters of giggles sent me running and breaking my rule of not turning my back on them. One of them grabbed my bookbag, and I had to twist out of it to escape their grasp, leaving my bag.

I returned to the room I had left and climbed the flight of stairs while holding my cut stomach. Warm blood dripped passed my fingers and onto the floor. As I reached the very top of the steps, a swarm of bugs appeared on my face, blinding me. The hooded woman with red hair cut directly under my breast. Laughter echoed in the room as I lost my balance and fell. I tumbled down every step. I crashed onto the floor and looked around. My vision bounced everywhere, and I barely knew where I was anymore. By some miracle, I got to my feet, but I could barely walk straight. I keep moving forward even though I couldn't make out where I was going. The women's laughter cocooned me. Whoever or whatever these women were, they were watching me, and they were being entertained by my fight for survival.

I limped down a dark hall. There was a trail of blood at my feet that came from the room with the plaque on the door. Now that I think back, I know it was foolish of me to follow the trail of blood, but I didn't know where else to go. The women's laughter faded and vanished. And I should have taken that as a sign that I was going the wrong way, but my head was spinning out of control. I thought I would throw up. If only I could find a place to hide and a weapon, then maybe I could have stood a chance.

Blood was streaming from my wounds and soaking my shirt and pants. My legs grew weaker, and my vision became foggy. I lost my glasses when I fell down the stairs, but I didn't care. I came upon the last room in the hall and pulled on it with my hands dripping with blood. The door opened and I fell forward into a large white curtain. I pulled on it, trying to get back on my feet.

The curtain shifted away from me. I jumped back and looked up.

My heart caught in my throat. A tall woman, as tall as a basketball hoop, peered down at me. What I thought was a curtain was her white dress. Her face was as pale as creamy milk, and she wore a dark hat close to the size of my arm's width. Her jet-black hair was cut at her shoulders and curled around her ears in a 30s like, styled fashion. As she stared, for a moment my pain faded, and my vision adjusted, giving me a split second to process who was glaring at me. The women's eyes were piercing like a yellow candle in the darkest night. Alluring as a cool yellow in a white dessert.

"Well, well, well. What a peculiar outsider." She spoke, her voice graceful like a stream of cream, but disconcerting.

I yelped. I thought of asking her for help, but her deep ruby smirk told me she wasn't someone who would help.

Two of the three hooded women grabbed and lifted me off my feet by my arms.

"We bring you this strange outsider, mother," one girl said, her voice filled with childish joy. They dragged me deeper inside the room. There was an enormous bed in the room's corner and a lit fireplace across from that. There was an armchair between both and a jarring large lever next to the fireplace.

"I see. Pull her up, so I may have a better look at this one," the tall lady said.

They pushed me towards the wall across from the bed. They pulled my hands from me. One woman pulled down a hook on a chain and dragged it into my left palm. Then she moved to my right arm and pierced it with another hook. I screamed. The pain ripped through my arms and up my back like a blaze of fire. The hooded woman with the blonde hair pulled on the lever and I rose into the air. I screamed the whole time.

"Strange indeed. I haven't seen the likes of her in such a long time," the tall lady said. I was at her eye level now, and the hooks in my hands were pulling through my palms. Blood trailed down my arms in warm streams. I was on the verge of screaming again, but I held it in passed clenched teeth.

"Let's devour her mother while she is fresh!" One of the hooded women said, lightly clapping her hands.

"Settle down ladies," the tall lady said, holding a long cigarette to her deep ruby lips. She had three black roses on her left shoulder and white pearls in her ears. Her white pearled necklace glimmered in the candlelight.

The pale, tall woman took a step towards me. She dragged her finger across the open slash near my belly and licked it, exposing her gray tongue and gums.

I whimpered. I was sure she hit the bone.

She sucked her lip and looked up in question. "She is very youthful and healthy," she said, and her grin deepened. She looked at me with piercing eyes, outlined in fine dark mascara. Her eyelids had a hint of pink eye shadow.

I cried. My cheeks drenched in my tears. My wounds tore as they flexed under my weight.

"Let me down, please, it burns," I begged in my native tongue. French.

The tall lady paid my begs no mine. "We haven't had someone youthful in a while. What a beautiful language. You differ from my past maidens . . . but you will do just fine." She gave me another smile and turned away. "Daughters get her ready, for it's almost time for dinner."

The tall lady bent down to walk out the doorway. Her footsteps were heavy against the castles' wooden floors. Step by step, they softened and disappeared into the distance.

It's hard for me to explain the dread I felt beside the excruciating pain. I knew I was going to die and from what I heard and saw; I imagined it was going to be very painful. It's true what they say, horrible things happen to good people. I assumed I was no exception. I had hurt no one in my life directly and I figured my good luck resulted from my kindness. However, my luck had run out.

After they pulled me down from the chains, the women transported me further down into the castle where things got incredibly darker. I had lost so much blood by the time I got there that I was fading in and out of consciousness. I remember having hooks jammed back into my palms again and being raised into the air for the second time. I woke from unconsciousness now and again to my self-screaming. My blood poured from my gaping wounds like a steady stream. Below me was a wooden bucket where it was all being collected. Sometimes I could hear laugher, but they were very faint as if they were inside a dream. And sometimes I heard screaming, but I wasn't sure If they were someone else's or my own. After a while, I heard nothing at all.

When I woke again, I was no longer up in the air, but I was among a pile of dead bodies. I could make out the moist break walls surrounding me under the faint candlelight pinned above me. The stanch of death and rotting corpse stung my nose. It was unbearable, but it kept me awake. I noticed a dead white man next to me. He wore a light green jacket, blue sweater underneath, and his left hand was bandaged and missing fingers. I turned away.

Another victim.

I looked down at my own hands. Even in the dimness of this bricked room, I could make out loose tendons hanging from the gaping holes in the center of my palms. It amazed me that I was no longer bleeding. I didn't know if this was a good or terrible thing. My dark skin was pale and slightly blue. I believed I was dead even as I stood and walked out of the bricked cell; I found myself in. It wasn't until I found and reached a set of stairs that I realized I was still in the castle.

I thought I was a ghost at this point, doomed to wonder the castle at which I had died a horrible death. I wanted to cry again, but I didn't have the strength. I gave out when I reached the top, and crashed onto my hands and knees. I could no longer walk, so I crawled. At the top of the steps, passed a plain dark door, was another room. It was the smallest one I had come across so far. There was a table in the center, and the walls were comprised of barrels. The wine room? An old record player sat by the door ahead of me. I made my way to the table and used the chair as support to get to my feet. I could faintly feel the chair's wood against my skin. I didn't think I was alive anymore. My wounds had not healed, but they no longer bled. I reached for the slash on my belly and whimpered at the pain. It stung like burning ants. I moved out the room, set on escaping this castle and returning home. I didn't know how long I had been in and out of consciousness, but I hoped it wasn't long enough for my family to worry.

I reached for the door to the next room. The castle is a maze and at the time it dawned on me that only pure luck would help me get out. Nonetheless, I planned on going as far as I could. Sadly, I couldn't make it to the next room before things turned on its head.

I reached for the door but stopped when I heard talking.

"You did an excellent job, my daughters. The Frenchie blood was a fine treat."

"Yes, mother," Three women said in unison. They were the same voices that had trapped me here.

My heart stop. My hand froze on the door handle. I knew that if I made the smallest sound, they would hear me. Carefully, I stepped away. The conversation continued for a while, so I kept stepping back, hoping I could return from where I came. I was a fool to hope.

"Quiet. Cassandra, go see what that was."

"Of course, mother."

The door opened. Somehow, I shoved pass Cassandra and got out into the hallway through another door, but that took the last of my strength. I was back in the main hall with the locked door, but by this point, I could no longer stand. My feet burned as if I was stepping on hot coal. I collapsed at the door with the plaque and pulled my knees to my chest. I had accepted my death before, but it appeared that I would have to accept it again.

Cassandra and the two other sisters surrounded me. I thought they were going to slice me to pieces right then and there, but they started bickering.

"I thought we had drained her of everything."

"You said she was dead, Bela."

The tall lady's footsteps echoed throughout the hall. I was too afraid to look up. I shook uncontrollably. I wished I could hide in my own skin.

"Quiet girls. What's going on here?"

Her large, gloved hand grabbed my cheeks and forced me to look up. Her gloves rubbed harshly against my skin.

"She is completely drained. . ." The tall lady's sharp, groomed eyebrow bunched together. "These new outsiders are so tedious. They won't die."

"What should we do, mother?" Cassandra asked.

"First, I will inform Mother Maranda of her and then, well . . . "

The tall lady paused and smiled as if waiting for my reply, or perhaps she wanted to watch the terror in my face unfold. I didn't give her either. I stared back with hatred. I knew this was a bold move, for I was antagonizing her. In a way, I was telling her I wasn't afraid. Part of me was too weak to care, but another part of me wanted to show her I would not keep making a fool of myself. I was ready to die.

Her smile dropped, and she looked away with her nose upturned. She was done with me. She had all the fun she could have and now I was just a useless thing to be thrown away. I no longer impressed her.

She never finished her sentence. Instead, she walked upstairs before ducking through another doorway. I pondered for a moment as to why this castle wasn't built to accommodate her height. Every doorway that I had come across was too small for her. "Human size". It was a ridiculous thought when considering the direr situation I was in, but I was left to wonder. I had never run across the likes of these sorts of women who appeared to be vampire-like creatures, so I had no idea how to face them.

I doubted I could escape before the tall lady returned, and I didn't have the strength to try.

Before I continue, I should tell you that I am still here. I know you're probably wondering why. As of now, I am in my small room that properly used to belong to a maid (am too afraid to ask what happened to her) writing this diary. I don't know who I am writing it for, but I like to hope that maybe one day I can get this to my family. I want them to know that this was not my choice. It was never my choice to be what I am now. I think about what would happen if given the chance to see my family again, but I know that if they were to see me how I am now, they would be frightened. I rather not put that burden on them.

I laid where I had collapsed into a fetus position. With only my thoughts. I put two and two together and realized that the three hooded women standing over me must have been the same women I saw in the picture when I first arrived. Or at least shared similar names. Cassandra, Bela and Daniela. They didn't bother to move me as we waited for their tall mother to return.

They argued over putting me back in the dungeon under the castle, but ultimately decided to wait. Even they seemed to grow tired of wasting their energy on me. To them, I was a young outsider who should have been dead with the rest of the bodies. It calmed me that I didn't have to be forced down there again, but that relief was short-lived.

My body turned icy. I didn't believe them at first when they mentioned they drained me of all my blood, but at this point, it seemed possible. I didn't believe in vampires either, but it was clear that these women drunk blood and turned into flies. So what name was more fitting for them besides monsters?

The tall lady's footsteps echoed as she made her way down the stairs and back towards us. I waited for the verdict.

"As I suspected. Mother Miranda is curious about this outsider. She still isn't dead, unlike the other maids who have turned into. . ." She huffed. "Nesciences."

I didn't want to look at the tall lady because I feared that if I did, she would see how this updated news made my muscles ache with dread. But I gave in. It was hard to ignore someone who overshadowed you about nine feet and who smelled of heavy perfume and blood. When the tall lady noticed I was watching her, her smirk returned, and she started addressing me. She placed her hands on her hips, palms inward, fingers down.

"I doubt you'll make it to the next hour, but if you do . . . well, we will see how special you really are," she chuckled in her throat.

"Where shall we put her, mother, while we wait for Mother Miranda?"

"The west wing will suffice." The tall lady strengthened herself. She moved her hands down the sides of her long white dress and turned before walking away and ducking into another room.

The three daughters helped me to my feet and made me walked up the stairs and down the hall towards the west wing. I knew this wasn't an act of kindness and that if their mother allowed them to, they would slice me to pieces. I was happy however and looking forward to laying down again even if my inevitable doom was slowly approaching. My joints continued to burn and ached even after they placed on a bed. I pulled the thick comforters over my body and closed my eyes, hoping sleep would come. I thought about getting out of bed and finding a way to escape, but my arms and legs had grown too heavy to move. Part of me hoped that I would die in that bed and not have to face Mother Miranda.

It wasn't until I woke up that I realized I had fallen asleep. A woman in a golden mask made up of wires and a single long neck, stood over my bed staring down at me. My heart started humming in my chest. Something about her didn't seem entirely human. She wore a gown made of dark feathers.

"Open your eyes child. I am Mother Miranda. You are on the verge of death, but I am willing to help you."

"How. . ?" Like the other women, I spoke in French, and she replied in English.

I hadn't talked since they strung me up, so I was surprised to hear the sound of my own voice.

Mother Miranda patted my shoulder. "You have seen my work. My lovely daughter Alicia Dimitrescu told me about you, and I had to come see you for myself. Do you know where you are?"

"I need to get home."

My throat was as dry as sandpaper, and every word burned like acid in my throat.

"I can offer you something that will grant you immortality," Mother Marinda said.

I shook my head. I knew something so valuable came with a heavy price and I wanted no part of it.

"My family will start looking for me."

"I am afraid that if you do not accept this gift Alcina and her daughters will kill you and worst. But if you listen to me, I will ensure that no one will be able to harm you ever again."

I looked away and shut my eyes. If I could wake from this nightmare, I promised myself that I would hug my mother and tell her I love her. I would talk to my sister and ensure she took the right path in life. I had not given her the support she needed, but I would do everything I could to get her on the right track. If only I would just wake up from this nightmare.

I turned to Mother Miranda, who was looking at me intensely. I nodded. "What would I have to give up in return?"

"Your body and soul, my child. In return, I will protect you within this family."

My strength to protest was long gone.

"Okey. . ."

Mother Miranda held something above me and told me it was a Cadou. It was a gooey-looking substance that moved and contracted in her hand. She reached for my jaw and pulled my mouth open before dropping the thing into my mouth. I wanted to spit it out, but before I could, it climbed down my throat. Besides the cutting, slashing, and pure horror I had faced up to this point, nothing was quite as terrifying. I could feel it make its way down my esophagus and to my stomach. It was alive inside me, coating my internal organs with its slimy appendages. I went from cold to hot in moments. My open cuts stretched and closed. My vision darkened and I could no longer feel my clothes along my flesh. Then the converting started.

I couldn't control my limbs as my arms, and legs jerked out of control. I was having a seizure, and I was fully aware of it. The room shook around me, and I had no idea what was up or down. I wanted to throw up, but there was nothing left in my stomach. The pain was unbearable, and I ultimately passed out.

I awaken again, this time not with Mother Miranda looking down at me, but the tall Lady Dimitrescu. I don't know why she was staring at me, but she appeared to be looking for something in my face. I pulled out my hands to look at them. My color had not returned and instead of being a cinnamon brown, I was more of a dry brown, like the wooden park benches whoms' color had washed away after years of being in the harsh weather.

"You're finally awake." Lady Dimitrescu said, before pulling a cup of deep red wine to her lips. At the time I thought it was just that. . . wine. But thinking back, it could have very well been my own blood.

I sat up and tried to speak. I cut my tongue on something sharp in my mouth. My teeth had sharpened in the back of my jaw. Lady Dimitrescu grabbed my face to get a better look at me. She removed her black glove and felt my temple with the black of her pale hand. Similar to how my mother use to when I was younger with a suspecting cold. Lady Dimitrescu sucked her bottom lip and her left eyebrow shot up. "Mother Marinda will be happy to hear you are recovering."

"What now?" I asked, even though I was afraid to. Lady Dimitrescu slightly tilted her head to the side and smiled that same thick ruby smile. Her hat shadowed her eyes, but they gleamed yellow when the light hit them.

"Welcome to the family."