~O~

A Vinde Gogoși

"Do you think I would have made a good mother?"

Hilda blinked, eyes widening at the question that early morning.

They were outside on the balcony of her chambers, overlooking the village below. Alcina's question had come from nowhere and it surprised the older woman. But she was used to the odd questions; Alcina had sometimes reminisced about her lost humanity. About things that could have been. But only she had been allowed to know any of this.

"Mistress, you've asked me that before." Hilda told her.

"Yes, but I'm asking you right now."

Hilda looked over at her and sighed. "I believe you would have tried," she told her, honestly, "But things would complicate it. As they do. For one, a child is shaped by their parents. You resist your mother's teachings, but part of her has become a part of you. Not to mention the appetites of blood. You've been down that path."

Alcina nodded. She agreed with that, to an extent. "Always honest, aren't you, Hilda?"

"I never lie to you, Mistress."

That was true; Alcina could look to Hilda and know that she was honest with her. Others had tried to spare her pain with lies, tried to protect themselves with lies. But Hilda was not one of those people. She was always blunt and to the point.

She respected that about her.

"They think me to be too old, I assume," Hilda said, with a small note of amusement.

Alcina looked down at the old woman with a grin. "You're old? It had eluded me for the longest time."

Hilda let out a long laugh and Alcina joined in. It was charming and did alleviate a bit of her nerves that morning. She was preparing to check her next subjects and she had been sure they would fail. But she still hoped, perhaps.

"Well, I'm frightening to some of them." Hilda quipped. "They know I would hit something sooner than let it get passed me."

"You're not a battering ram, draga mea."

"I am when it suits me. Nobody expects a battering ram to be withered and wear a dress."

Alcina grinned, nodding at that. She adored her personal attendant, even when she'd grown older and more rough around the edges. Like the withered statues outside in her courtyard.

Hilda was honest. She wasn't a liar like most of them.

Alcina was being tended to by servants, including Hilda.

Her mother stepped into the room and looked at them. She looked as if she'd been crying, which was a rarity from the harshness she was wont to have.

"Tea, Hilda." she said.

Hilda looked up at her, nodding. "Yes, Mistress."

Alcina shut her eyes as the servants filed out. Her mother had begun to straighten the buttons on her dress and looked at her severely.

"You're not to see that girl again, do you understand me?" she said, her voice trembling now. "I forbid it, Alcina."

Alcina rolled her eyes. "Oh, stop it, mother," she said, "You're going to give yourself another nosebleed."

Her mother glared at her before slapping her across the face; the crack of her hand against her skin echoed loudly in the room.. Alcina flinched, holding her cheek and staring at her with wide, enraged eyes. Her mother watched her coldly now, lips tight and eyes dark with many emotions that had no name.

"This is NOT a game," she whispered, severely. "This embarrassing stunt your doing with farm trash? What will they say about us when they know we've sunk this low?"

Alcina laughed angrily, her cheek bright red.

Her mother stared at her with disgust, shaking her head now. "Why are you being so selfish?"

"I'm being selfish?!" Alcina exclaimed, eyes widening furiously. "Whose fault is it that I'm this way? Who is the one who hides me away because she's too ashamed to have me seen to the rest of the world?"

Her mother balked at her. "What do you mean by that?!"

"You know exactly what I mean. Lying about it will change nothing!"

For once, her mother had been rendered silent.

Hilda had provided the tea when her mother departed, only risking a look at the younger Dimitrescu woman. She smiled sympathetically when she saw the redness in her eyes, the way her cheeks had been washed with tears.

"Mistress?" she questioned.

Alcina took a deep, shaken inhale, composing herself rather quickly; she dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief, hardened her resolve and cleared her throat.

"That's enough of that." she whispered, tone free of any warmth.

A small smile from Alcina as she looked toward Hilda.

Yes, the only human who had been worthy of her respect.

O

Alcina had stared at the corpses of the three girls, having been devoured by the flies. Hilda stood beside her, watching the gruesome sight. It would seem that another attempt had failed and it made sense that Alcina had asked the question earlier.

Her dear Mistress had gone to Mother Miranda to ask for the chance for daughters. And this is what had become of that chance.

Alcina's expression was grave, hands at her face. She didn't seem entirely upset by what had happened. In fact, she only watched the human-shaped mass of flies laying there. It smelled unholy and it took effort for her not to lose her stomach. That part she pushed passed; after all, this had been the closest she'd ever gotten in her experiments.

"I'd opened a window earlier today," Alcina explained, voice softer with awe. "The flies has fallen dead. It seems they loathe the cold air and die if exposed for too long."

Hilda's brow wrinkled. She was also studying the human-shaped mass with fascination. Even she couldn't resist it.

"What must we do now, Mistress?" she questioned.

"We wait." Alcina's tone was of reverence. She didn't take her eyes away from the three bodies. "And we see."

That was all.

Her Mistress ventured above to carry out her own duties and Hilda went about her routine as planned. The old woman found Sofia in the kitchen and balked in shock when she saw her clutching her wrist, looking around the kitchen for something to wrap it with.

"Idiot girl!" she hissed, moving to help. "What did you do?"

Sofia stared at her helplessly, gesturing to the knife she had been using and the apples scattered about on the counter.

"Ugh! Come! Get over here before she smells it. I'm not cleaning another mess today."

Alcina had walked through the dining hall, studying the condition of the clean wood of the tables when she suddenly halted, leaning her head back and taking a deep inhale of air. Almost instantly, her mind was flooded with a sweet scent of blood.

Colors and aromas that danced in fire filling her head.

It made her jaw ache, her mouth grow wetter and in that moment, her iron-clad control was nearly shattered. The thing in her head hummed loudly, twisting the creature behind the cage; drawn to it as if it had been her first time indulging in appetites of blood.

It brought her to Sofia and Hilda, who had been making an effort to clean her hand rather quickly. The women didn't seem to sense her there until Alcina had drawn close enough for them to hear the steps of her heels.

(Tear it apart.)

(Just a bag of sweet blood. Nothing more.)

"You."

The honeyed, dangerous pitch of Alcina's voice turned Sofia's attention to the woman. Alcina's eyes looked as if they were almost glowing yellow, fixated on the bloodied wound on her hand. It was like watching a wolf barely tethered to the ground.

Sofia stared up at her, then looked down at her hand. Alcina shut her eyes tightly, took a moment to leash her beast once more before taking her wrist tightly in hand. Her trembling frame seemed to engulf them both in shadow.

"No."

Alcina's red haze cleared and she stared at Sofia for a moment. She laughed, a hoarse sound. "No one says no to me. You know that."

"Yes." Sofia agreed, quietly.

Alcina blinked, squinting at her. "Yes, what?"

"No." Sofia answered, with a small note of frustration.

"Is that all you can say?" Alcina spat, annoyed now. Her veneer of calm was beginning to unravel again as she fought to understand. "'No'?"

"Yes." Sofia told her, tears filling her eyes.

Alcina blinked, surprised by the sight of tears and needless to say, so was Hilda. It was a first either one of them had seen. The girl didn't cry when she had seen blood. Seen her bathing in it. She didn't utter a single noise when she had been verbally abused. But here? The tears were...

Hilda had grown silent as well, staring at Sofia, then to Alcina. She looked as though she understood what had happened and what it meant to have Sofia only speak two simple words.

Realization lit Alcina's face and she leaned back with a small sigh. She could see it now; the father who had sold her, the marks on her hands and the bruises Hilda had spoken of.

"I see."

Sofia looked up at her, waiting anything; punishment, more verbal abuse. Anything.

"I thought your father sold me perfect merchandise," Alcina said, evenly. "Now I understand. I was given damaged goods."

Sofia looked confused by her words. She had nothing else to do but shift where she stood.

O

Alcina had prepared to meet with Sofia's father that morning; a little preparation to the table, a look that would bring comfort to her prey before she sank her claws into him. Hilda didn't entirely approve of what was to happen, especially under the circumstances. But she kept silent.

Sofia stood quietly, watching as Alcina spoke to her father near the main hall. Nothing was there in the woman's eyes and Alcina only occasionally glanced back to see if she'd speak up on her father's behalf. But she only watched the scene play out.

Hilda looked at Sofia and it was a first she'd shown sympathy, even to a small degree.

"How has your home faired since?" Alcina questioned the man, her smile bright and friendly.

"Wonderfully!" he said.

He was dressed in his best suit and shoes, grey hair slicked back with animal fat of a sort. He smelled disgusting to Alcina and her mind went to the various abuses he'd no doubt inflicted to reduce the woman to nothing more than a broken animal.

This disgusting little rat had been the one responsible for it? This man?

"Good. I'd hoped you'd be doing things with that," she said, her tone a sinister drawl now, "Like buying a new farm. Lying to me. Things such as those."

The man looked confused, scanning the room around him to servants who watched with a mixture of unease and confusion at the abrupt change in conversation. It was always an uncertainty what Alcina would do to those who vex her.

"I'm sorry?" he stammered.

"My property. I don't like it when it comes to me broken," Alcina continued, with a wide smile that looked unsettling. "You gave me such assurances that she was a model servant. Perfect in every way. And yet, here she stands before me, barely able to muster a single word but 'yes' or 'no'."

She gave a grand gesture toward Sofia, who watched the scene unfold with emotionless eyes.

"I-Is that not perfect for you?" the man questioned, voice shaking with fright. "What I did, I did when she was little. To ensure obedience!"

Alcina made a small murmur. Somehow that made the twisting worse; the way she pictured a child receiving such abuse from him. She didn't know why. It wasn't like she did things like this.

"Yes, you'd think. But I'm not fond of liars, man-thing. Especially ones who beat their daughters senselessly. I prefer other methods to foster obedience." Her smile disappeared and she looked at him severely, smooth tone taking on a dangerous edge. "You lied to my face. I know a thing about how to handle a liar."

The man looked frightened now and looked to Sofia for help. "Sofie? Sofia!"

She calmly watched him, said nothing.

"Tell her!" he cried, desperately, tears filling his eyes when she advanced slowly like a predator, "Tell her I didn't lie!"

Alcina looked at Sofia with a sinister smile. "Well? Anything to add?"

Sofia looked at her, then to her father and shook her head. Her expression was still empty and she spoke her next word with such calm.

"No."

Alcina tittered with amusement and grasped the man's throat, calmly dragging him kicking and thrashing uselessly. His screams echoed into the night.

O

"Mendax est sanguis."

Alcina took a small inhale of her cigarette and smiled at the man who read the label on the wine bottle.

"Liar's Blood." she said. "A new recipe. It has a particularly bitter taste, doesn't it?" A grin lit her lips. "I hope you enjoy it."

He smiled his approval. "Thank you, Lady Dimitrescu. When will I expect your next product?"

"Within a month."

"Excellent! I have customers buying it up in bulk!"

A grin from Alcina. One of pride.

She looked toward Sofia, who had begun cleaning the floors of the foyer after the man departed with the wine bottle in hand. The woman had said nothing and showed no signs of being affected by what had happened to her father. Hilda was trying to speak to her, bemused by the lack of emotion. But Sofia seemed to assure her with a small smile and nod that everything was fine.

She could still smell the girl's blood in her head. It made the beast scratch at her skull as she watched the smaller woman before her with a sharpness in her stare, a rigidness in her frame.

To distract herself from the sensations, she sought to understand instead. Alcina brought Sofia to the opera hall where she offered her a book. Sofia frowned up at her, confused by the offer, but took it in hand. It was old and worn slightly, titled "The Rise and Fall of the Demon King".

"I want you to read the first page." Alcina told her.

Sofia nodded and looked down, reading it in her head.

"Out loud." Alcina's tone was harder than she'd meant. But Sofia's wounded look softened her to a small degree. "Try."

Sofia looked down at the book, her lips struggling to form words on the page. Small stutters that always formed the word 'no'. Alcina watched her struggle before she rolled her eyes with a sigh. Shaking her head, she plucked the book from Sofia's hands.

"Mmm, seems he did quite the number on you, didn't he?" she said, with overly dramatic sympathy. "What a pity. You get them young, you can do anything with them."

She looked down at the woman's bandaged palm and licked her lips somewhat, relishing the thought of tasting the blood that pooled there. Perhaps this had been a fortunate encounter after all.

(What are you waiting for?)

"Well, I'm giving you permission to speak." Alcina told her, eyes darkening with a smile as she ignored the fleeting thought that passed her mind. "Or will you be like every other woman? Silent to the whims of man?"

Sofia stared up at her, uncertain.

(Tear her to pieces.)

Alcina blinked rapidly, the dark look in her eyes returning. She was rigid again and her gloves felt as if they were close to being obliterated by her claws. Her head started pounding and she immediately turned, forcing that resolve there again.

She had to leave her. That iron-clad control was slipping.

Turning sharply, she departed, leaving Sofia alone and lost.

Alcina's head was swimming when her eyes first opened.

She was welcomed by Hilda's concerned face. Blinking slowly, she winced and sat up, surprised to find herself lying on the cold, stone floor of the castle. Hilda looked terribly frightened for her as she helped her sit up at least.

"Mistress! It's alright, I have you." she assured her.

Alcina's mouth felt dry, blood caked along the edges of her mouth and dress. She glanced down, slowly returning to herself as she fought to remember what had happened. Her brow wrinkled with disgust and shame as she fought to adjust the dress she was wearing.

"What happened?" she questioned, her throat hoarse and dry.

Hilda had reached into her apron to produce a cloth. She began to wipe Alcina's face, earning a sharp, pointed look from the Countess.

"You fed." Hilda explained.

"Fed? On what?"

Hilda's lips opened and she glanced down toward the body of a maid. The girl was laying there in a pool of old blood, throat mutilated beyond recognition; her skin was pasty white, mouth slack in a permanent scream. She looked like a dried out husk of her former self.

"She...She did this..." Alcina's eyes widened in dawning horror. "This was the price she meant, wasn't it? The power she gave me."

Hilda hesitated to answer.

Alcina squeezed her eyes shut, attempting to come to terms with what had happened. She shook her head and her hands shot up to it with a low groan that bordered on a growl.

"Mistress?" Hilda questioned, reaching for her.

Alcina swiped at her with an enraged snarl. Hilda backed away, immediately compliant to the gesture. She watched Alcina's eyes glowing yellow, saw the show of teeth. Her dress had grown filthy, the blood that soaked it made her look wild and animal.

Alcina blinked, her body trembling as she fought control. She shut her eyes tightly, clenched her jaw with a high sound of distress before reaching for Hilda. Her expression was apologetic, needy in ways she'd never been in so many years. She sought comfort and her soft, desperate moans cut through her like a knife.

"Hilda, wait. No, no." she whispered, "Please. Come here. Come to me."

It was a plea. One that Hilda had never heard often since she was a child. It brought her forward and Alcina let out a laugh of pleasure, though mildly strained. She reached out and put her arms around Hilda, pulling her close for an embrace.

Hilda returned the embrace, having reminded herself of the many times her Mistress had come to her for comfort when her mother had shoved her away. But today, her Mistress felt frozen, her skin colder than it had been before the surgery. In just a week, changes had begun to set in with the animalistic hunger. She knew more was to come.

"You must clean yourself up, Mistress." Hilda told her, eye misting. "It wouldn't do to look this way for Mother Miranda and your staff."

A hoarse laugh answered her and Hilda tried to laugh a little as well. It hurt more to do so than comfort them.. Alcina's shoulders shook with each little pained laugh that she uttered. It made Hilda squeeze her eye shut tight.

"It's alright, Mistress. Hilda is here..." she said, quietly.

The sounds that followed were great, anguished sobs.