Summary:
'The strangers welcome you
As you lose your sanity, they touch your soul' -Hania Lee-Alice is Dead
Pride was really something else. It could make you believe you were a God amongst men when really, you were much lesser. Fauna dug her fingers into the porous brick and was tempted to smack her head on the wall for such blatant stupidity. The emptiness in her heart was supposed to be her logic. Instead, it just allowed her to do stupid things without fear of inhibition.
And now, here she was, scaling the crumbling wall of a hellish castle like a damn racoon looking for a hole to crawl into and die. Her fingers were starting to ache from the climbing, something she normally did with ease, now a rigid task made worse by the harsh wind and her weakened state. Blood began to ooze from the cuts, leaving fingerprints on the stone.
Work through the pain.
A smattering of dust erupted when her foot slipped at some point, making her all the more driven to find an opening into this lockbox of a castle.
She didn't even know what this place was or who lived in it. No one ever bothered to tell her and she never stayed long enough to find out. All she knew was that she was left at its doorstep and until she had regained a bit of strength, she would hide within its walls or kill the first thing to swing at her.
Fauna had no other choice.
If she kept dawdling, she'll just peel right off the wall and make a fresh, splattered meal for the wolves, both Lycan and Lupine. There had to be something, anything. Frustration began to kick in as a decent amount of climbing was done; time passed as she focused on every detail of her ascent. The night sky was encroaching and, in desperation, Fauna looked around for any kind of opening to the castle.
A few grand paces to her left was a window with quite a wide ledge and though it would take everything out of her to reach it, it had to be done. Swinging her body, Fauna tore her way along the wall with agony creeping up her fingers; trying her best to keep precision and speed in dutiful balance. The ledge grew closer and with her teeth gritted, she flung herself at the lip, the fear that she would miss scattered at the thudding touch of stone.
Oh, thank fuck. That was awful.
Fauna wasn't afraid of heights but being that high up would make anyone sick. Willing every part of her body to move, Fauna forced herself up, tears leaking from her eyes in strain as she doubled herself onto the ledge.
Finally, finally , she could lie down for a moment to catch her breath. Oh yes, she was still in grave peril from the drop below her but she really needed to rest. Bringing a forearm to cover her eyes, Fauna breathed raggedly, scrubbing the sweat and tears from her eyes. This was a far cry from earlier today, the peace, the revenge, the fulfilment.
Was this punishment for the murder? Most likely.
Did she care? No.
Why should she? He deserved it.
Fauna's breathing evened out quickly as she calmed herself, determined to use every bit of energy to break in. And then what? Flounder around the castle looking for a place to hide till she's caught and killed? She was certainly not looking very friendly right now, what with her blood-stained everything, cut-up fingers and sleepless, dead eyes.
You've killed twice, you can kill again.
Her mind wandered to the blade in her boot. One part of her said flight the other said fight, screamed it through her tiredness.
She could fight. She will fight.
She won't get caught off guard again, not like in the cabin not ever again.
The wind whipped up Fauna's deep red hair as a warning and she took heed. Nature rarely gives a second chance.
This was gonna hurt like a son of a bitch.
Digging her boots into the stone, Fauna slammed herself into the window, a blunt, digging pain burst against her shoulder, but she tried again. And again. And again. Faint spiderweb cracks grew into deep fractured lines against the glass till finally the patchwork window gave way and sent her tumbling down gracelessly against the broken glass.
Sharp shards sliced little welts against her face and what wasn't cutting her was partially embedded in her clothes. She looked like a walking weapon and she would have used herself as such if not for her exhaustion.
Fauna had to lay down again, unfortunately, in the pile of broken glass as she couldn't will herself to move just yet. She scanned the room she'd let herself into and if she had the energy to waste, she would have raised an eyebrow at the place. The room was as pompous as the castle itself but in its own way. Gilded armoires and decorations littered the room, fancy rugs dotted the floor. Even the bed was eyecatching, a regal four-poster that shone with careful varnish and laden with expensive sheets.
It was all shine and no substance; no personality was visible in the extravagance.
Groaning as she sat up, Fauna tried to think of anything but the pain wracking her body. It was her weapon and her shield; she would break it till it submitted. Shaking off whatever glass she could, she attempted to sit up before she rose on quaking legs. She knew how to fight since she was young, but in this state, she didn't know if she'd be able to hold her own very well.
But she had to.
Fauna walked forward slowly, crossing the room with purpose towards a fancy-looking embossed door. She brought her ear to the sparkling veneer to listen for any signs of life.
All the while, she dug into her bootflap, feeling the icy sting of the blade biting into her flesh before holding it flat between her fingers. Fauna was determined to go down swinging or not go down at all. Where she could hide, she would, where she had to kill, she will.
It was repeating in her mind, in her words, in everything.
Hide or kill. Hide or kill. Hide or kill.
Her heart beat five times in total before she took the chance and opened the door.
Looking up and down the well-decorated hallways, Fauna saw no one and took soft steps to hide her presence. Hopefully, she could rest in the first secluded place she could find and slip out after. She may be full of stupid ideas, but sleeping in that bedroom would probably bite her in the ass in a very Goldilocks way. Walking slowly, Fauna listened for footsteps other than her own, darting eyes to portraits and grandfather clocks she almost mistook for enemies.
She would have liked to see this castle under different circumstances; historical buildings were always full of secrets and architectural grandeur. The gardens too, oh castle gardens were always so glamorous. And there was almost always a music room, or at least, a grand piano, to play the sweetest notes on the finest crafted tool.
A quick but gentle shake of her head made Fauna refocus on trying to-
"I can smell you so easily from over here. You're not even trying."
A voice rang from somewhere in the halls and boy was that one hell of a creepy sentence to hear.
They knew she was there, they knew exactly where she was.
Kill.
The words drowned out everything else in her mind as Fauna turned towards the origin of the voice. She saw no one and heard nothing except for a faint buzzing. Night descended on the castle with a gothic fist and provided an excellent cloak from the voice.
If she could just take them by surprise for even a second…
The buzzing grew harsher as blowflies erupted from down the hall, coating every corner in swirling black.
"I know where you are. You think you can get away when you stink like a man-thing?!"
With a sickening realization, Fauna realized the voice was in the swarm of flies. Flies that could easily track the old and new blood frothing on her. There was a spiral of hesitation running in that foolish mind of hers now. Could she really kill something so… supernatural?
The short knife was clenched in her fist to the point of pain as a fresh drop of blood squeezed its way down to the marble floor. The pain brought her clarity, but her methods turned out to be her undoing.
An insignificant drop of red splashed on the tile; a dog whistle to the cloud of bugs.
"Found you."
Readying herself, Fauna watched the insects glide across the floor, piecing together a darkly-clad, reddish-haired woman with blood smeared across her black lipstick.
The woman raised a sickle -a far more substantial weapon than Fauna's- and brought it down hard. Air sliced above Fauna's head as she ducked in time to save her head.
"I like your makeup!" the woman said again before swinging the sickle at an inhuman momentum.
Ignoring the strange comment, Fauna kept nimbly moving till she saw an opportunity. The crazy woman's pendant glints a verdant green in the near darkness and Fauna readies her strike to the jewelry.
With the sickle raised high in the air, Fauna found her chance slashed at her neck, hoping to sever an artery.
Nothing but bugs spilled out of the cut as the woman cackled to herself, sweeping the sickle low, impaling Fauna's leg with horrific accuracy. The fresh wound ripped jagged breaths out of her as a searing pain forced a strangled scream to erupt from her throat. Her small knife skittered away into the dark, far away from her desperate hands.
"I would dance with you more, but mother's getting impatient. Let's go!"
With a delighted squeal, the woman yanked Fauna quickly across the floor, leaving blood both old and new to streak the marble. The sickle began to tear the wound open with the applied pressure of being dragged; Fauna held back tears but fuck it hurt.
After 2 more hallways and an unfortunate set of stairs, the sickle was removed with a sickening schhlick.
Classy tiles swirled above Fauna's head as she tried to regain herself, but she'd lost too much blood, put her body through too much, and now a shutdown was inevitable. She reached out to stop the bleeding in her leg but swung at nothing; still dizzy from the journey.
What the hell were you thinking?
Words of self-doubt popped in her head, running circles with the tiles above her. Did she really think she'd stand a chance in the very place she was sent to die? She tried to stuff the feelings back down but her blood ran too hot, too emotional, too prideful, too stupid.
Two killed does not a killer make.
"Thank you, my daughter," a deep, husky voice pronounced. It was unerringly feminine, almost alien.
"I expected this delivery to be outside my door and yet, here you lay, soiling my floors.", the heavy click of heels matched the rate of blood pounding in Fauna's ears.
"How foolish you are to think you can invade the grand House Dimitrescu and not face consequences, bandit. My house." the voice grew louder till it was practically above Fauna's head.
And so it was.
Between the flutter of her eyelashes, Fauna spied a ghostly woman of old-world standards. She stood above her -this colossal thing- puffing slowly on a quellazaire and looking down with contempt. Unnatural golden eyes glowed in the near darkness of the room and if it weren't for the fireplace, Fauna would have thought the sky manifested twin suns in the night. Her bluish-grey face showed signs of age, crow's feet and gentle wrinkles, but she carried herself with the beauty and pride of a matriarch.
Elegant, unwavering, terrifying.
Just like fire.
"Mother, please let me have the-" Daniela spoke but Lady Dimitrescu cut her off.
"You will wait quietly until I am finished."
There was no room for objection in her tone; restrained anger bit into every vowel.
A meek "Yes mother" escaped from Daniela's bowed head as she shut up; a far cry from the chatty monster that impaled Fauna's leg.
"Now," the matriarch drawled as she bent slightly, supporting her weight with a hand on her hip, "What-"
She stops suddenly as if taken by surprise. Her fierce eyes widened for a second before she straightened, holding a hand over her nose and batting away an invisible scent with the other.
"You positively reek of drunken man-thing," her disgust rattled Fauna's chest with a thundering growl to her words, "Daniela, I don't know how you tolerated such a stench for so long."
A small grin of manic joy played on Daniela's face as she found the opportunity to impress.
"It was the stink that led me to her, mother. This piece of meat basted herself just for us."
A frown tugged the matriarch's lips down as she stared at Fauna once again, "Anything to say, bandit, or are you marching towards fate with white flags raised?" she tapped the quellazaire and ash spiralled off the cigarette, "How boring indeed."
Fauna had no words, her body was spent from the blood loss and pain but she glowered with wild hate. Not a word -not even a sound- slipped past those bloody lips.
"If that is all then," the Lady sighed in pure disappointment.
Gritting her teeth, Fauna attempted to get up but the movement was stopped by a large, leather-clad hand wrapping around her throat, lifting her high into the air like a ragdoll.
Angry gasps flew from Fauna's mouth as she kicked, clawing her fingernails into the matriarch's sleeve, trying to damage her as much as she could. The woman felt like pure stone and her grip, tempered steel.
A malicious chuckle resounded from Lady Dimitrescu as she watched Fauna struggle helplessly, fighting what could not be beaten.
The cloudy glaze that coated her eyes burned with anger as capillaries began to burst.
Something, anything, just fucking get her.
Swinging her body back, she extended her leg, placing a solid kick against the quellazaire, sending it spiralling into an unknown corner of the room. Daniela bowed her head lower, both in fear at what was to come and to suppress a giggle that would surely get her in trouble.
The eye of the storm closed before her as Lady Dimitrescu shook Fauna in her fist without regard for her bones.
"Insolent, grubby THING!" she roared, her teeth bared and her eyes shone with rage that was barely held back, "You track polluted man-blood into my home, you break my property, and now you have the gall to vex me with your AUDACITY!". Each furious emphasis was coupled with a thorough throttling to Fauna's bruised throat.
If the Lady lost any more control, Fauna's head would've snapped clean off her body. She could have sworn she saw sharpened teeth inside her mouth, but the wooziness made everything look strange.
With her free hand, Lady Dimitrescu plunged a finger into Fauna's leg wound, forcing a wild howl of pain from her shaking lungs. Tears dotted the matriarch's ruthless wrist as Fauna bit her lip to contain herself.
Endure.
Lady Dimitrescu withdrew her hand slowly as she brought the finger to her mouth, gathering up the blood on her tongue, swirling it around like a sip of wine.
At once, the blinding rage slipped from her face, a noise of intrigue followed shortly after. The tempest fell away from her features, placated by the taste of blood; her anger melting to curiosity. The grip on Fauna's neck loosened as she was dropped to the ground like a toy of little use. Unable to catch herself, the killer crumpled against the floor, growling and coughing as a few shards of glass found their way into her arm.
Great. Just great.
"Virgin." Lady Dimitrescu said languidly, staring at the killer panting angrily on the floor, catching her slipping breath.
Daniela giggled shrilly as her tongue trailed her sickle, gathering the blood to taste for herself. And delighted she was, as she gave a twirl; fanning out the black shawl that enveloped her.
"To the dungeons you go!" Daniela said raising her blade with excitement, but was once again, predictably, cut off by the wave of her mother's hand.
"Silence, my youngest," Lady Dimitrescu's voice was gentle but still horridly firm, "Let me parlay with the morsel a moment."
Bending forward, the Lady turned her head down to the blood-encrusted Fauna, her eyes sparkling with malevolence and interest.
"The man-stink on you resembles an earthy note in your own blood. Tell me, bandit," she pauses to adjust her black hat, showing off her menacing eyes even more, "How did you kill your father?"
Fauna steeled at the accusation, remaining quiet at the question.
Narrowing her eyes, the Lady waited for an answer that would never come.
So she continued.
"How did his blood taste? Sour? I can imagine, much like your own," there's a smirk on Lady Dimitrescu's elegant face, she looked amused, genuinely so.
How did that big bitch know?
Fauna's lips pursed at such demonic clairvoyance.
"But it is the most rotten fruit that begets the sweetest wine. Fortunately for you, good grapes cannot be wasted. You lack…purity…in your soul…you are too broken to make proper Sanguis Virginis," she continued, glowering down upon Fauna who refused to break, "The man-stink runs wild in your veins right now but make no mistake. With time, you will be prey once more." she straightens back up, a flourish to her hands as she trails off.
"If you're going to kill me, do it now," Fauna eeked out, her vision wavering finally, her body succumbing after such rough handling, "Do it, you chatty bitch."
Keening laughter sang from the Lady, covered by a polite hand, half entertained and half, for show. The laugh quieted abruptly as if it never happened.
"Oh, I won't kill you," she spoke loudly, trying to regain Fauna's waning attention, "You are but a feral cat, clawing for scraps with your noxious tongue," her words reverberate as if in a dream as the world begins to slip away, "Cats can be trained, and soon, a monster true, you shall be. Mother Miranda will be pleased."
Dusky lines drew shapes around Fauna's head and the outline of Lady Dimitrescu strutted around her derisively. A devil was offering her a deal. A devil dressed in white finery with a stature so regal and brilliant, that Fauna second-guessed herself for a moment.
Instead, an Angel of Death hovered over her with tobacco and terror, promising succour in a manner most foul. Promising to pump her heart with the blood of true beasts.
Wind howled to be let in but the wooden planks denied their entry. Lady Dimitrescu rubbed the crease between her eyebrows as she spoke on the phone, her annoyance was reined in for this important call.
A light buzz of chatter echoed from the receiver, a nod of her head with each sentence.
"Yes, Mother Miranda, I'm watching the experiment," she rests both elbows on the vanity table, "The woman shows excellent promise for the Cadou, her body and mind are…strong," she glances at the broken window, sighing away from the receiver before speaking again, "Leave the mortal in my care until the day arrives. I will make her ready."
The receiver buzzes again before it stops with a click on the other end. Lady Dimitrescu puts down the phone and stares at the boards on her bedroom window.
It was yet to be seen whether the human would be suitable as a host for Eva or live at all after surgery. However, there was a chance the Cadou could make her spirit rise into a glorious tool for Mother Miranda to use, mayhaps even for her own use.
That woman had unbending passion, too much to let waste in the barren woods.
There was something festering in her that kept her hearth stoked, her blood was tainted with horrible sin; she was…an interesting experiment.
Three taps on her bedroom door. Quiet but firm. Dearest Bela.
"Come in, little one." Lady Dimitrescu beckoned, her fingers rolling the lit quellazaire.
A swarm of flies drifted across the floor before reassembling a blonde woman, blood on her face, dressed in black. Her hood was down, unguarded.
She stands with her hands behind her back, grey eyes shining for her mother's approval.
"As you requested, the experiment is contained in the bedroom," Bela's voice is soft but confident, "Cassandra is watching her closely in case of an escape."
Lady Dimitrescu takes a slow pull of her cigarette before exhaling a billow of smoke, "Is she now?"
Bela stiffens at the remark, unsure if she was pleased or disappointed.
"I…Cassandra was interested in the…blood-soaked state of the experiment," the daughter paused before continuing, "I think she either wants to eat her or dunk her in a bathtub. Or both…"
Raising an arched brow, Lady Dimitrescu chuckled from the news of her most ferocious daughter. Cassandra, despite her feral nature and messy killing habits, was surprisingly fastidious with hygiene. An oddity she was indeed; scrubbing her face before a meal, picking gore out of her sisters' hair or begging her mother for scented soaps.
So many soaps hoarded like the demented little magpie she was.
Cassandra scrubs her mouth with her sleeves, smearing fresh blood on the ornate fabric.
"You carry the Dimitrescu name, Cassandra, and the descendants of this House aren't to be lacking in manners," Lady Dimitrescu pulls a folded handkerchief from a drawer, shaking the fabric open, "I adore you and your sisters' lust for blood but this just won't do."
She wipes Cassandra's mouth free of blood before folding her hand over her daughter's, the handkerchief nestled between both their palms.
"Keep this on you always, my sweet man-hunter," Lady Dimitrescu whispers, "Your sleeves are for wearing, not wiping."
"Yes mother," Cassandra replies, smiling to show bloodstained teeth.
Lady Dimitrescu sighs at her unkempt daughter but says nothing more. One thing at a time.
The memory lingers fondly in the noblewoman's mind, bringing a nostalgic smile to her face.
"Be nice to your sister, little one," Lady Dimitrescu said sweetly, "I trust her to not interfere with the experiment." she rises from her seat, towering above her oldest daughter, "While we're talking about cleanliness, let's discuss your own."
Bela pressed her lips together, the dry blood staining the bottom of her face crumpled with the action. Lady Dimitrescu sets down her quellazaire before producing a handkerchief from the desk, bending and gesturing for Bela to step forward.
She walks to her mother, a light blush of embarrassment staining her cheeks.
A gloved hand gently grasps Bela's chin as the white fabric scrubs around her mouth. She groaned and her parent tutted.
"We subsist off of blood but we are not-"
" Barbarians ." Bela finished, accepting the grooming hesitantly.
When the last of the blood was scrubbed clean, Lady Dimitrescu pinched Bela's cheek; the offending garment was placed back on the vanity for later disposal. Unlike their mother, the girls were quite scrappy, but she loved and cared for them as if they were her own flesh and blood.
In a way, they were.
"I have an appointment with the experiment tomorrow; a stress test, if you will. I leave the castle in your care till I return, Bela." Lady Dimitrescu regains her full height; the shadow cast over her daughter is imposing but not menacing.
With responsibility bestowed, Bela's face lit up as she gave a sharp nod, "Of course, Mother."
"That's my girl," the matriarch strokes Bela's hair before gesturing to the door, "You may take your leave now," she pauses before continuing, "And make sure that the help is dressing the experiment's wounds properly. It'd be a shame to lose her to infection before she proves herself useful."
Bela nods again, smiling as she bursts into a cloud of flies, buzzing back through the door to perform her duties.
The furious humming stops for a moment as Bela closes her Mother's door with care before beginning her swarm once more.
Ever so polite was her eldest.
Pacing back to the vanity, Lady Dimitrescu stops to look at her broken window. Irritation began to rise as she examined her damaged property before it cooled; control reasserted itself. Humans were so fragile, this one, much less so. Even with the substantial wounds sustained, she kept going from sheer willfulness.
The blood and glass had been cleaned up, but she remembered the shards and cuts lining the experiment's body.
Removing her leather gloves, Lady Dimitrescu put them down by the vanity mirror.
There was hate and emptiness in the woman's eyes when she was held aloft; the fear of death had long since gone. The vicious glare of a cornered animal, faced with a beast more powerful than it, never wavered.
The mirror held the matriarch's reflection and she stared.
Her own eyes were an aloof, brusque grey, but they still had purpose shining through the ash.
The experiment was wild, withdrawn and dishevelled with a necrotic gaze.
For a fleeting moment, sympathy blistered in Lady Dimitrescu's veins before being nipped in the bud. Empathy was futile to her goal. She would stoke the flame till the fire became an inferno or burned out.
Failure was not an option.
But those pained copper-blue eyes continued to haunt her well after she disposed of her desiccated humanity.
End Note: Alternate ending:
Fauna: *kicks quellazaire*
Lady D: oh you think your so clever? Well so am I *produces vape pen from cleavage*
Fauna: I have never wanted to die more than right now
