As much as I wanted to spend the rest of the day enjoying the silence and time to myself, I knew that very soon I would be summoned for one reason or other again, like a damned servant. And while I loathed the thought with all the energy I could spare, at least they weren't poking me with anything: that would really piss me off. Huffing a sigh, I rose to my feet and took a deep breath of the fresh, crisp air: mentally preparing myself for dealing with the denizens of the Castle, and whatever bullshit the Daughters demanded from me in the time I had left before I was sent Donna's way. Before I could even take a step, the sudden sound of the repetitive 'grinding' of wooden wheels and rhythmic 'clop' of horse hooves on cobblestone caught my immediate attention, and curiosity. 'The hell is it now?' I thought, borderline mentally exhausted and wanted to be done with 'entertaining' Infected and just be left alone: but apparently that was just too much to ask for, as I couldn't even get an hour to myself without being harassed by something new.
Glancing toward the Castle Gates, my eyes caught the sight of a dark-brown and white draft horse pulling a large and oddly-shaped carriage: which wouldn't be unusual for this region, if it weren't for the fucking massive, chubby giant of a human driving it. 'Fucking hell, that poor horse.' I couldn't help but think, watching the animal pull the doubtlessly-heavy wooden carriage with at least an additional nine-hundred pounds sitting in the front: barefoot as the man was, I doubted he could even see his own feet. Judging by the joyful tune he was whistling, I very highly doubted that he either knew or cared that he was literally driving right up to the front gates of cannibalistic Infected. 'How the hell did he even manage to ride this far without alerting any of the Lycans?' I wondered, tilting my head to the side as I watched the horse pull the carriage up the cobblestone road and slowly come to an eased stop just before the main entrance to the 'Carriage House'.
Watching the horse, I noticed that the creature didn't seem winded or weary at all: despite having to pull such a heavy burden, instead, delighted itself in munching away on the few stubborn flowers that still bloomed to the side of the road. By the time my eyes flicked back to the driver's seat, however: I shifted positions as my curiosity turned into High-Alert in an instant as soon as I noticed the man himself was gone. "How the fuck?!" I whispered to myself, feeling my virus tense with unease: instinct reacting to the feat that was impossible, especially for someone like him. There was no noise, no movement, nothing that could've alerted me to his disappearance: and with being as big and heavy as he was, I also doubted he would've been able to stand and walk: and that's when I knew…this oversized stranger was no human.
Ignoring the shifting parasite around my neck, I let curiosity get the better of me: if only to procrastinate going back inside for as long as possible: not because I hated the other Infected, per se…but being ordered around, keeping a low profile when it came to my abilities, and hearing the others speak to me as if they were my 'Superiors' was starting to get really fucking old: and I knew that it wouldn't be long before I got tired of it. Creeping down the side of the Castle, I was glad that my gloves and socks made my movements silent as I snuck up on the carriage with the practiced movements of a hunter: sniffing and listening intently for any sign of the missing driver, trying very hard to stay downwind of the horse to keep it oblivious and not spooking from my presence. 'Prey animals…the bane of my existence.' I mentally huffed, despising the many times that animals had given my position away due to being able to sense the threat I posed as an Apex Predator. Ducking down into the dying shrubs, I flattened myself as closely to the ground as possible as the back doors of the carriage swung open with a 'creak', the only warning I got before the whole carriage shook dangerously on its wheels: as if something very large had moved inside.
'Is he-' I thought, not able to finish the mental question as the opened doors released a multitude of scents that ranged from different preserved meats and spices, to gunpowder and alcohol. "Ah. Well now, this certainly is a surprise! It truly is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, my dear! Come, feel free to peruse! No need to lurk about!" a cheerful, subtly-accented voice called from the widened doors: and I knew without even taking a look that he was speaking to me: but how he knew I was even there was a mystery, especially when his line of sight wouldn't even be able to see the glow of my body suit. "You know me?" I questioned, highly-suspicious of how he could possibly know who I was when I stayed clear of this region until recently: and who he'd been talking to in order to come by such information.
Rising from my crouch, I snuck a sideways glance at the horse: taking mental notes at how it didn't even glance my way or react to my presence at all, aside from the 'twitch' of an ear and a 'swish' of its tail. 'I'm assuming you're no normal horse either.' I thought, knowing any animal that would've caught my scent or saw me would be alight with panic: inconsolable and positively insane with the instinct to flee as far and as fast as they could. Turning back to the measure at hand, I walked around to the back of the carriage: not paying the brambles any mind as they tried to snag the fabric-like tail at my belt and coattails brushing the backs of my shins with every step. Proud that I had control of my facial expressions and was able to force myself to remain neutral: I took in the behemoth of a man taking up the entirety of the inside of the carriage.
Dressed in clothing that could somehow pass for a three-piece suit that was straining at the seams, he had no problem shooting me a wide, welcoming smile on his friendly face as he adjusted the red cloth that could've easily been a blanket or drapery at some point that had been tied around his waist: unfortunately, it wasn't doing much to hide his massive stomach as it peeked out from under his suit and rested on his lap. He was blonde with friendly blue eyes that shimmered with mischief, tainted with secrets and knowledge he delighted to keep to himself. His chubby hands bore several large rings of gold, silver and platinum: with multicolored stones decorating each one. And while he was barefoot: he obviously wasn't bothered by the changing seasons, in fact, I would bet money that he enjoyed the colder weather immensely. Tearing my hidden gaze from him, I took in what parts of the inside of the carriage that I was able to see: only being able to make out scrolls of paper, labelled drawers and multiple links of sausage and other preserved meats hanging on the inside of the doors.
"There you are! I've been waiting a long time to formally make your acquaintance, and I must say: my expectations certainly don't disappoint." he said, voice remaining cheerful: even as he raked his eyes across my form, taking in my ragged appearance with a critical eye, yet didn't show any fear from being in my presence. And in any other circumstance I would have found it refreshing: if not for the subtle, secretive tone in his voice that I immediately didn't trust, no matter how friendly he was. "That still doesn't explain how you know me." I stated, not worried about someone of his size trying to attack me: but I still felt my legs tense and Biomass shift in my arms, all the same. "Anyone who is anyone knows who you are, my dear! 'The Blacklight Host' out and about, once again! Though I must say, seeing you in Miranda's Village is certainly a surprise: are you here for business or pleasure?" he asked, pudgy face supporting a knowing look: but waited patiently for me to answer, regardless. 'Someone did his homework.' I thought begrudgingly, not a fan of that particular title: but it was honestly better than some of the things I've been called over the years.
"That depends on you, and I'm not particularly in the mood for mind games: you've done your homework, I'll admit, but regardless of that: I'm not sure I appreciate you calling me that. You know that title, which means you also know who gave it to me: you wouldn't be…'acquainted', would you?" I asked, feeling a dangerous tilt creep into my voice: a sound that has been known to send chills up even the most hardened man's back, yet he didn't seem phased in the least: which only heightened my distrust for him, whatever he was. "Certainly not. I am but a humble Merchant, my dear: I go wherever there is coin to be made, and conversation is a good source of information, a profit all its own. And tales of you have certainly been the topic of many of my best customers, it is no wonder I had hoped to one day meet the likes of you. You have nothing to fear. Now forgive my manners: call me 'The Duke' and welcome to 'The Duke's Emporium': connoisseur of exotic cuisine and the highest quality goods in the region! Providing 'Information' and 'Under-the-Table Services': Anytime, Anywhere!" he greeted, making direct eye contact with me through the beak of my hood: knowing smile never leaving his face, even as the last part sounded more like a threat. 'I see you know how to play the game, too bad I'm not in the mood.' I thought, an unamused scowl tugging at my mouth: which only caused his smile to widen, as if he thought my reactions amusing.
"I have no lei for you." I stated, not knowing what he could have that could possibly benefit someone like me: considering I was highly independent and had very little need for things that I couldn't acquire on my own. "Its of no matter, there are other ways we can do business: if you find quality ingredients and bring them to me, I'll reward you a portion of the spoils from the dishes they create. I'm also partial to items and treasures scavenged of high value and will gladly purchase them with a trustworthy, fair exchange. Should be of little consequence for one such as you: for as long as you have need, anything you desire can be provided at The Emporium." he replied, not put off by the fact that I had no money: but instead gave me several ways to accumulate it, a businessman through and through, it seemed. 'And he essentially just told me to swipe valuables to sell to him…wonder how Alcina would take that?' I thought, feeling my lip twitch in a miniscule grin at the thought of her head popping off if she ever found out.
Though the fact that he emphasized 'anything' like a promise, I couldn't deny that it would be sheer lunacy to decline such an offer: especially if he did, in fact: have something that I needed, be it a means to get the annoyance off from around my neck, or information about Miranda. And judging from the look on his face: he was highly-aware of this fact and seemed to delight in offering it to me like the 'Carrot and the Stick'. "Sounds fair. I assume you also know my name, then?" I questioned, already knowing the answer to that as his eyebrow cocked as his expression shifted: telling me all I needed to know, which I wasn't too sure if I appreciated. "Naturally. And as I said before, you have nothing to fear: 'Customer Confidentiality' is part of our 'First Class Customer Service'! Your identity and any disclosed information are quite safe with me, 'Miss Shira'." he replied, drawing out the name in a way that told me he was fully aware of my actual name, and God only knows what other things about me: but if he knew the title that was given to me by only the Staff-Members of the highest clearance in the facility…it honestly wouldn't shock me if he knew everything there was to know.
"I'll keep that in mind. The next time I find myself rolling in riches: I'll let you know." I said, trying to keep my teeth from clenching as the sarcasm dripped from every word: not at all keen on having to rely on someone else for anything, but if it would help keep Miranda off my ass and unassuming, I supposed I could deal with it. Despite the sarcasm, 'The Duke' didn't seem perturbed in the slightest: even going so far as to cross his arm over his massive chest in a polite, mock-bow of his own: as if he knew that things would play out in his favor in one way or another, regardless. "Of course, Miss Shira: should you come across something of value, I have no doubt that you'll know where to find me." he replied, remaining polite even as I narrowed my hidden eyes at him: getting the uncomfortable feeling that he knew much more than he was letting on, much like Miranda and her secretive, Cheshire smiles: taking great pleasure out of keeping secrets and withholding information until you begged on your knees for it. Granted, I could force him to spill his own secrets: and the only reason I didn't, was due to the fact that in addition to having no idea what he even was or the things he could be capable of, but in doing so would only focus Miranda's curiosity on me that much more. And that was something I had no intention of bringing down on myself: not until I was ready to rend her flesh into ribbons and whittle carvings out of her bones, at least.
'You've gone soft! All this waiting, when you know you're the strongest thing on the planet! And if not…make yourself so! You didn't hesitate this long with the rest of us! Why are they so special?!' one of the louder voices hissed, prompting me to clench my gloved hands into fists in order to refrain from smacking myself in order to shut it up. Unfortunately, it wasn't long before I felt the thick, warm blood start to seep between my fingers as my Claws threatened to make an appearance: easily marring the inside of my palms with their lethal bite. Luckily for me, my Healing Factor repaired the damage before the liquid could escape my grasp: leaving Duke unaware of my internal conflict. "Fine. Now, if you don't mind: I'm needed elsewhere, and assuming that you didn't come all this way just to have a chat with me: Alcina's the one you're here for. I'll send her down if I see her." I said, tone short and to the point: a subtle hint of my thinning patience. Luckily, Duke seemed to pick up on it well enough, if the careless wave of his chubby hand was any indication. "No need to trouble yourself, Miss Shira: 'The Lady of The Castle' is already quite aware of my arrival. Feel free to tend to your prior engagements, and please: do come again soon! You'll never know when you'll find yourself in need of something I could provide!" he said, cheerful as ever: though I couldn't help but feel an ominous sense of foreboding as that statement sunk in: as if he knew I would need his help and would be waiting patiently when the time came. 'I'm starting to like this place less and less.' I noted, hesitating just long enough to send a parting 'nod' in his direction before slipping back inside The Castle: hoping to get at least a few minutes to enjoy what's left of my peace and quiet, which unfortunately, ended just as soon as the doors slammed shut behind me and I immediately heard three sets of footsteps making their way in my direction in a rapid sprint.
"Duchess! Duchess please, you must come with us at once!" Ingrid exclaimed, rushing to me with her skirt lifted in her hands in a white-knuckled grip as she ran up to me, followed closely by Irina and Gloria: their faces a pasty-white and pale, positively reeking of fear as they trembled in their soft-soled slippers. "Any particular reason?" I questioned, taking in their petrified forms with a hidden, critical stare and came to the conclusion that the veil had been lifted: and the 'Dimitrescu Clan' had had enough with civility and decided to prey upon one of the maids…or three. "Y-You must come! It's the 'Young Ladies': they've requested your presence at once, in the Great Hall: please Duchess, we cannot delay! They demanded we must bring you to them, or they'll dismiss us to the 'Cellar' if we don't!" Gloria wept, tears flowing freely down her youthful face: and I knew from the absolute terror in her voice, that if any were sent to the Cellar: they weren't coming back.
"Fine. Lead on then, and please stop crying." I stressed, knowing they weren't going to listen: but let them shove me through the oak door and down the hallway, regardless. Shoving me roughly through the door, I couldn't even turn to glare and snap at the women as I stumbled into the Great Hall: too busy taking in the sight of the Daughters and their newfound 'toys'. In each of their dominant hands, rested a single, shiny and lethal-looking hand scythe: well-oiled, sharpened and begging to cleave through something soft and living. As they stood in the flickering glow of the fireplace, I took in the disturbing fascination they seemed to have with the menacing glint that flashed across the curved, metal blades: broken only once Bela took notice of me standing in the doorway.
"There you are, Auntie! We've been looking everywhere for you!" she chirped happily, catching the attention of her sisters: making a growl want to form in the back of my throat as they all turned to me with wide, predatory smiles. 'Do it, and Alcina's going to be sweeping up your insect corpses with a broom.' I mentally snarled, feeling Biomass creep down my arms beneath my body suit in anticipation to shift into any of my abilities and rend these mimics to confetti. "We've just been so bored, Auntie! And we've heard you're leaving to visit 'Aunt Donna' tomorrow, so you simply must play with us before you leave! All the other 'entertainment' is positively dreadful, maybe you can change that for us?" Daniela added, sharing a slightly-demented grin with her elder sister: which only grew into something positively sinister as Cassandra lifted her scythe up to her face and ran a gloved fingertip down the length of the blade.
"It's been ages since we've gotten to play with a 'Family Member': what do you say, Auntie? Care to Hunt with us?" she asked, bloodlust dripping from every word of the last sentence: and while I didn't acknowledge it, her tone sent a 'shudder' of delight through me: as soon as her words registered, the involuntary reaction caused the virus to stir and hunger to sate its own sociopathic, maniacal tendencies. "If you're thinking about coming for me, I wouldn't recommend it: but should you follow through, I'm sorry: but you won't win." I growled, baring a fang to the firelight in clear view of each of them: giving them a chance to actually consider what I said, only to pause and raise an eyebrow in confusion as the girls had the audacity to 'giggle': as if I had just referenced an inside joke that only they understood. "Oh no, Auntie: you're not our prey, we've already got that!" Bela explained, grin never leaving her face, not even as Cassandra had the nerve to outright laugh at the warning: a complete one-eighty from the last time she had the audacity to insult me.
"This is your chance to show us, Auntie! We're happy to just sit back and watch, if you'd prefer." Cassandra goaded, playing with her scythe as if it were a hairbrush…or imagining it slicing through something: and from what I gathered from the blonde Daughter, it was most-likely the latter. "And if I were to tell you where you could stuff that idea?" I stated back, not liking how badly they wanted to see what I was capable of: and the fact they were content to watch the scene like a stage-play just screamed that Miranda was growing impatient and resorted to having the others try their hand at convincing me. Feeling my nostrils flare as I grit my teeth as they laughed again: as it became clear as day that they obviously didn't give a shit about my tone, or the words themselves, which clearly meant they weren't intimidated in the least: despite yesterday's warning. "Luckily for us, Mother granted us permission: and considering you're our Guest, Auntie…our word outweighs yours. So! Shall we show you to the 'Game Room'? What do you think, Sisters?" Daniela asked, and before I could jump away, all three of them manifested into a large, buzzing swarm that was louder than any swarm of bees or cicadas I've ever heard in my life.
Torn between covering my sensitive ears and trying to swat them away, there wasn't much I was able to do aside from fighting to keep my balance as the laughing swarm of oversized, carnivorous flies shoved and pulled me through the hallways and corridors again, taking twists and turns I haven't even been to: before coming to a dizzying, unsteady stop several minutes later. Shaking my head to chase away the nausea, I glared at the girls as they reformed back into their deceiving appearances: clearing my vision of the cicada-sized flies just enough to take in the details of the new room I found myself in. Taking a breath, I immediately gagged and fought against the sudden urge to vomit as the metallic, coppery scent of both old and fresh blood intertwined with the scents of dust, old wood and stone and formed a cocktail that would even make a congested person sick.
'The fuck IS this shit?!' I thought through my teary eyes, trying to ignore the fact that if I'd have asked that question aloud: I would probably end up puking instead. Somehow resisting the urge to choke, I was glad the virus got its shit together and helped me adjust to the intensity of the positively rancid stench: at least to the point where I was able to breathe somewhat normally without gagging. Blinking away the tears, I took in the dusty and dim-lit room: noting the heavily-stocked wine racks and singular, circular table sitting in the middle of the room: the setting giving off the vibe of a 'Tasting Room' of some sort, shame it wasn't for any drink that I'd be interested in indulging in anytime soon. "The hell is this?" I growled, fighting the sudden urge to do some 'intimidating' of my own: at least to get the message across that I was positively done with being fucked with, however, I knew in the back of my noisy mind that any act of aggression would bring a world of shit down on my head…God damn it all.
"This is the way to the Game Room, Auntie! Now come on, I want to have some fun already!" Daniela pouted, causing Bela and Cassandra to shift into a swarm again and reform behind me: pushing and shoving me insistently down a flight of dimly lit stone stairs and into a storage room that was filled to the ceiling with wooden barrels: each wafting with the overwhelming scent of blood…guess I found the source of the nauseating stench. 'Nice to know that they clearly don't care about appearances here, and is that a fucking ARM?!' I thought, forcing myself not to be visibly disgusted as the girls shoved me past a larger barrel with a very feminine and very dead human arm peeking out from a gap in the boards.
"Well…now I see how you all make your wine." I said dryly, finally understanding why the maids were petrified to go anywhere near the Cellar: and how Alcina was able to keep a constant supply of the main ingredient in her 'Merlot' without the Villagers panicking like the cattle they apparently were. "Of course, Auntie: though they tend to have different flavors depending on their age, they're so much more delicious when they're young, and they make the most beautiful sounds as we cut them up!" Cassandra replied, causing Bela to roll her eyes as Daniella giggled. "You would've loved the ones where I came from then, at least they deserved it." I muttered, thankfully too low for the girls to hear as they lead me down a spiral stone staircase and into a medium-sized room with a hanging brazier lighting up a war mural of two armies charging each other with swords, spears and cavalries alike.
Taking a closer look at them, I noticed that they were made from brass and popped out a good six inches from the wall: giving the artwork a three-dimensional appearance, which would undoubtedly cast eerie shadows from the firelight of the other two braziers resting on each side of the room: leaving the single lit one to hang from its chain in the middle. 'If that's not some 'Tomb Raider' puzzle shit.' I noted, figuring out what was about to happen and the purpose of the extra braziers in an instant: almost as if the original constructors of this Castle grew lazy when designing the mechanisms for their secret passageways, either that: or my…'conditioning' made such things hardly worth being called a 'challenge' anymore. Seeing as the Daughters were clearly not going to politely fuck off and leave me alone without 'playing' with them, I figured that I could at least use the upcoming opportunity to get my very-clear message across in a sense that they would understand: since civility and telling them to go away weren't clear enough, evidently.
'Let's see…how can I utilize the brazier to make a flamethrower?' I mused, crossing my arms over my chest and wanted nothing more than to see how the flies would react to being tossed in the flames as Daniela and Bela swung the brazier over to each other: each touching the flames to the cold bowl on each end of the room. Once all three burned, it wasn't long before the sound of hidden gears turned and ground against each other from within the walls: working in tandem to pull the clashing armies apart, exposing the inky darkness of a pitch-black doorway that reeked with the scent of metal, blood, excrement and fear. 'And what a lovely cocktail that is.' I thought, sarcasm particularly heavy today: which paired nicely with my mentally exhausted and vindictive state, if only I could utilize it on something. "After you, Auntie." Bela cooed, waving me through the door as her sisters 'helped' me along with sinister, bloodthirsty smiles spreading from ear-to-ear.
Shoving me into the darkness, I clenched my jaws as a chill ran up my back as I sensed the girls standing directly behind me: waiting to see my reaction as my eyes quickly adjusted to the inky-black: and the nightmarish secrets that were being hidden within, which was only made worse by the dim, red glow of the accents of my body suit: giving the heavily-shadowed hell a whole new definition. Ignoring the girls, I glanced at the multiple cells and their rusted iron bars, coated with dried and fresh liquids that I didn't even want to name, not even as it became blatantly obvious that this wasn't just a 'Dungeon': it was a 'Torture Hub'. Between the multitude of obviously very well-used Blacksmithing tools, livestock chains, and various methods of torture designed to produce the most amount of pain and blood as possible: it wasn't long before it became clear to me that these Infected weren't just slaughtering people for food…they genuinely did it for fun. 'Well, at least now I can see just how the methods have changed over the centuries.' I thought, somewhat morbidly, resting a gloved fingertip above one of the razor-sharp spikes protruding from one of the 'Iron Chairs': not even having to actually touch it to know that just the lightest touch would shred skin like softened butter.
"Well Auntie, do you like it?" Bela asked hopefully, sounding as if she were genuinely trying to earn my approval on such things: and while the history behind the items in question were just as interesting as they were horrific, it was the fact that they were using them on innocents that didn't hold my fancy. "They're…historic." I managed, not paying them any mind as I switched my gaze from an iron body harness hanging from the ceiling in one cell, to a brass mask that had been shaped to mimic the face of a pig in another: suddenly extremely glad my beaked hood blocked my vision and prevented me from glancing up: and witnessing the lifeless, bloody bodies with shredded clothes and their hands bound behind their backs with execution hoods covering their faces. However, I had unfortunately managed to catch a glimpse of one before deciding to put forth the effort into ignoring the rest: and the severed stumps that had once been their legs as they hung from the ceiling and were bled dry into the large barrels beneath their mangled forms. It was also here that I noticed that they didn't have the more grotesque or larger medieval methods like an 'Iron Maiden', 'Bronze Bull' or a 'Wooden Horse', but the relics they did have were designed for inflicting an intense amount of pain that bordered on the creative: even the iron mask with the cork-screws in the eye holes was enough to make me wince.
"So, Auntie: which tools do you prefer?" Daniela questioned next, content to follow along behind me as I continued down the blackened hell: trying hard to ignore the signs of previous 'games' that had been left on several of the tools and walls of the few cells that still held moldy straw on the cold, damp floor. "Personally? Haven't needed to use any, I have my own methods of tending to such things. As for favorites? That's…more of a historical debate instead of actually using them: but I will say that Bronze Bulls tended to make those bound for it…well, let's just say you could taste the fear." I said, catching their undivided attention in an instant: judging by the excited 'gasps' and 'squealing', like excited schoolgirls. "I've read about those! But they were only ever mentioned in passing and didn't explain much." Bela said, a sad twinge seeping into her voice, and from a Historian's point of view: I could see where the limited knowledge would be upsetting.
"I've never even heard of that, but they sound fun! What were those for?! What did they do?!" Cassandra asked, skipping into view on my right side and looked positively giddy with the idea of learning a new method to try: especially one as…intricate as that. "They were designed as a punishment tool, originally. It was a big, hollow bull made from bronze and had a hinged door in its belly that would house someone who's been particularly naughty. Once they locked them in, they'd light a fire under the belly of the bull: which eventually slow-roasted the person inside until all the liquids in their body turned into steam and blew out of the bull's nostrils with a loud 'whistling' sound. Sort of like an oversized tea kettle, and usually took several hours before it even reached that point: sometimes they were left inside for days, depending on the severity of their offense: and were looking like a shriveled peach that had been left out in the sun for too long before they were removed from it." I explained, seeing no harm in sharing a bit of trivia with the girls: mainly as another, silent 'Fuck You' to Miranda and to divide their attention from whatever idea they had in mind for me for at least a few extra minutes.
"That sounds utterly fascinating! I wonder if we can convince Mother to let us have one?" Daniela asked, cueing her sisters to adopt grins that would rival a child on Christmas morning: before Bela's expression dropped, clearly figuring out why the answer would most likely be 'No': despite the shared bloodlust that was obviously a family trait. "From what I've read, Bronze Bulls had to be carried on carts with at least four horses: there's no way we could get something that large in here, and having it outside-" she cut herself off, making me narrow my eyes as the three shared an uneasy look: as if the very idea was a nightmare come true for them. 'Would make sense, with them being made from bugs: I highly doubt they'd be able to survive long in frigid temperatures, and with Fall bringing hints of such temperatures with it, they'd obviously want to stay as far away from the outdoors as possible.' I thought, finally spotting a weakness I could use to my advantage in case they ever decided to try to turn me into any sort of 'prey': Alcina's wishes be damned.
Turning my attention back to the matter at hand, I bared a fang in a 'scowl' as one of the 'Leftovers' suddenly dropped from the ceiling from behind the bridge of an archway that led into the next section of the Dungeon. Rolling my eyes at the timing, I stepped around the bloodstained sack of burlap and made to enter the room that had apparently been used to store several of the larger barrels: only to come to a dead-stop as a faint 'scraping' from further around the corner caught my immediate attention. Feeling my shoulders tense, I purposefully ignored the girls as they shared a sinister 'giggle' amongst themselves: I strained my sensitive ears to try and catch the sound again. And while it took a second to filter out the ambience of the Castle's natural noises and the snickering of the Daughters, I quickly caught the ominous sound again: and judging by the uneven, overlapping pace the source was making…there was more than one. Grand.
"Play Time, Auntie." Cassandra sang, making me glance back and see that all three had lined up in the archway in a fashion that was apparently meant to prevent me from trying to squeeze past them and leave: little did they know that I had no plans to flee, not when the threat was too plain to ignore. Feeling a 'growl' slip between my bared teeth, I turned around and strode into the dark room, fearlessly approaching the source of the noise: which suddenly evolved from a scuff of a shuffling footstep, to a dry 'hissing' noise that was immediately accompanied by the eerie, metallic 'scraping' of something metal dragging against stone. 'Sounds to be quite a few of whatever the fuck is making that noise, very well. I guess I'll play along.' I thought, feeling a spike of adrenaline shoot through my system: the virus stirring in anticipation for a fight, though I had a feeling that it wasn't going to be much of one: at least, not by my standards.
Ignoring the barrels and miscellaneous crates, I glared into the pitch-darkness beyond the next archway, paying no mind to the tiny candles doing their best to illuminate the inky fog: waiting patiently for the source of the noise to stagger into my field of vision, and I didn't have to wait long. For all of two seconds, I was expecting one of Heisenberg's Lycans: instead, I got a creature that was neither living or dead, a 'Dark Souls Hollow' if I ever had the misfortune of seeing one. It appeared to be somewhat feminine in stature, standing a few inches shorter than myself, around 5'3 with an extremely emaciated and willowy appearance. With brown and bloodstained rags that somehow managed to serve as clothing and a singular piece of rope serving as a belt, it wouldn't surprise me that this creature served as a prisoner before it was turned into a 'Paperback Zombie': the unwanted, mental image making an inopportune 'snort' of amusement escape my throat, before the dark humor vanished again and will doubtlessly show itself again later.
Taking in its bared limbs, its dry, leather-like skin was pulled taut over boney limbs and was covered in bruises and old, bloody wounds: proving my theory as it staggered further into my line of sight with its uneven, bowlegged gait. It was barefoot, with split, claw-like toenails and shredded calluses covering its filthy feet: absolutely putrid with pus and sickly-sweet infection. Its skull held no eyeballs within the gaping sockets beneath its hood: just a grey, bloodied, bat-like face with a gaping mouthful of chipped, crooked fang-like teeth. Curling my lip at the horrendous, rotten breath that came from the creature as it 'hissed', the glint of an ancient-yet-lethal sword held tight in its right hand caught my attention. Suddenly rushing forward in an unsteady burst of speed, the Hollow-like thing raised its sword and sluggishly tried to swing it at my head: unfortunately for this pitiful thing, the lack of muscle made it an extremely sloppy excuse of an attack: and therefore, child's play to intercept.
"I think not." I growled, snatching its brittle wrist in my left hand faster than a normal human was capable of: baring my own fangs at it as it snarled and hissed in that dry-sounding voice as it struggled weakly to pull its arm free. Tightening my grip, I pulled the creature forward with a sharp 'tug': forcing the stumbling creature forward and right into my foot, the force of the kick sending the thing flying backwards and into the room it came from and into the caged wall of an obscured cell with a heavy 'crash'. Feeling something 'tremble' in my hand, I looked down and saw that I still clutched the creature's sword-arm: still gripping the handle of the blade as if the limb hadn't yet realized it was no longer attached. Tossing the limb away, I flicked my gaze back to the archway as several more sets of unsteady footsteps lumbered towards me. 'The fuck is this?' I thought, suddenly feeling like I was trapped in a twisted version of 'Shaun of the Dead' as several more Hollows shuffled their way into the room at the same time. Glaring at the hissing, congregating Horde, I noticed that most carried swords, while a few others wielded battle-axes and daggers: suddenly getting the feeling that these things and the Lycans weren't much different, at least in terms of what passed for intelligence.
"What if one of the 'Moroaică' actually hurt her? Mother will severely punish us for sure!" Bela whispered worriedly, reminding me of their spectating presence: which also reminded me that they expected a 'show'. "Shush! I'm trying to pay attention!" Cassandra hissed, effectively shutting her up as the creatures, now known as 'Moroaică', lunged forward in that same sluggish way as the first: only this time, they tried to attack as a group, smart: but unfortunately, not quite smart enough. Shifting into a sideways stance, I waited patiently for the closest to swing: grabbing its arm in a similar fashion as the first, only I decided to have a little bit of fun of my own. 'Batter-Up.' I thought, feeling my lips part in a nasty grin as I twisted myself around, pulling the hissing and snapping creature around in a semi-circle: using the momentum to use the thing as a demented baseball-bat, smashing it into the others and forcing them into a stumble: only for the closest to glance up and come face-to-face with my fist.
Not even caring as my hand went completely through the dry skull, I stood up and threw my left elbow back into the chest of another as it tried to sneak up behind me. Grabbing the loose axe it dropped, I let out a 'snarl' of my own as I pulled my arm back and decided to show these 'Low Lives' how it was done. Feeling Biomass subtly reinforce the power in my right arm, I savagely raised and slashed the axe singlehandedly in a brutal, crisscross pattern: slicing cleanly through limbs and sending bright flashes of showering sparks across the floor each time the old, rusted blade came into contact with the floor. Tossing the dented and useless axe away, I dashed forward and gripped the front of the tattered tunic of one of the two remaining creatures in an iron grip: before pulling it forward and off its feet, gripping the top of its head in my right hand and smashed it down into my raised knee: caving in the wailing creature's face like a ball of dried mud. Unfortunately, in doing so, I was unable to do much of anything about the last one with another axe as it snuck up behind me: not without using one of my abilities, anyway.
Tossing the creature's limp corpse away, the temperature suddenly seemingly dropped fifty degrees as the last, remaining Moroaică managed to bring its axe down on top of my head: breaking the fragile, rusty thing at the handle in the process. As the double-head of the axe clattered to the stone floor with a reverberating 'clang', all but the stumbling, hallowed creature came to a complete standstill: making absolutely no sound and didn't even move an inch as the Daughters waited with baited breath to see if that lucky hit had actually had any affect on me at all. To make the dead-silence even more ominous, I was also holding perfectly still, but not out of shock or pain: no, the virus had already rendered the hit useless. It did not, however: prevent the seething, truly horrific 'snarl' from climbing up the depths of my throat that was in no way able to be replicated by the vocal cords of a human, not even most Infected ones. And if that wasn't a clear enough indication that I was borderline pissed, the sudden flash of turquoise-blue and aqua-green coloring that zipped across my eyes in a flash before my vision bled into the shades of orange that normally indicated my less-than-favorable mood certainly would be: if my eyes were visible to others, an occurrence that didn't happen often, not if I could help it.
"You. Fucking. Guttershite!" I spat, whirling around with blinding speed and snatched the snapping, choking Moroaică by its scrawny, little neck: effortlessly lifting its clawed feet off the floor, feeling Biomass writhing from beneath my body suit in anticipation of being summoned: Claws begging to burst free from my normal human arms and rend this pitiful excuse of an offender to ribbons of flesh and splintered bone like a scratching-post. Deciding against it, I opted to delight myself in breaking its neck with one hand with a disturbing, dry-sounding 'snap', instead: but instead of simply leaving it there, I temporally forgot where I was and tightened my grip even further and lifted its corpse even higher, letting the silent audience get a good look at what I was about to do, letting loose a low, enraged 'growl' from deep in my chest seconds before brutally and savagely smashing its corpse into the floor, walls, and iron cell bars in a brutal punishment that was actually shattering the fragile bones and dismembering the thing in pieces with every swing, just as I had with the quadrupedal Lycan: not tiring and not stopping until nothing but half of its severed wrist and two 'twitching' fingers remained in my iron grip.
Crushing the remaining evidence in my fist, tilted my head to the side and glared at the girls out of the corner of my eye from over my shoulder: taking in their shocked silence and loose grips on their scythes as they stared at me, as if they'd never seen such brutality performed with nothing but a pair of bare hands before in their lives. Before I could open my mouth to snap at them, the corpses at my feet started making a low, curious noise. Glancing down, I felt my lip 'twitch' in a frown as the corpses' coloration lightened and faded in such a way, that it made them look as if they were rapidly turning to stone: even going so far as to crumble into a light-grey, powdery dust that could be easily mistaken for dry cement mix. 'Is…Is this what happens when a Cadou's Host dies?' I wondered, torn between fascinated and slightly-disturbed: not worried that such a fate would happen to me, as I wasn't Infected by it: but Alcina, Heisenberg and the rest…if they were to die, the realization that they would crumble into dust was an uncomfortable thought to think about.
While I didn't particularly care about any of them, and Miranda could go drink cyanide for all I gave a shit: it still wasn't often that I came across Infected that retained some semblance of Humanity: enough to have a proper, civilized conversation, at least. Pulling my hidden gaze from the dust and stored the information away to consider another time, I stared at the girls: who'd openly 'flinched' as they noticed they were the center of my attention again. "Any other 'games' you want to play, or have you all gotten the message?" I questioned, the 'growl' still in my voice and wasn't going to be leaving anytime soon: not with my nerves being reduced to mere nubs, along with my patience for Miranda's bullshit. "N-No, Auntie: that's all." Bela stammered, clearly shaken by my brutal display and seemed to have enough common sense to not provoke me further: at least someone in this Castle was smart enough to leave shit alone. "What about you, Cassandra? Had enough?" I questioned, tearing my piercing gaze from the brunette to shift to the blonde: who, unlike her startled sister, seemed to be quite content and beamed over at me with an almost too-happy smile on her face.
"On the contrary, Auntie: you just showed us that there's different ways to have fun instead of just stringing them up and cutting them open! It was a wonderful learning opportunity: I can't wait to try it out for myself!" she chirped, seemingly delighted in learning something from me: despite the fact the whole ordeal was intended for them to get the hint that I wasn't interested in their bullshit. 'Well…either someone clearly doesn't understand: or her individual bugs are more instinctive and predatory-driven than those of her sisters: either way, her next lesson will be how to adapt to a frigid climate if she doesn't learn what 'No' means.' I mentally grumbled, before turning my attention to Daniela: who seemed to be content to stay quiet and follow Bela's lead in trying to avoid agitating me further. However, judging by the intensity of her curious gaze: I had no doubt in my mind that she was mentally taking notes, but for what purpose, one could only guess.
Before I could open my mouth to question the redhead next: the tense, awkward silence was broken by the loud, rhythmic 'clanging' of a bronze bell: the very same bell that the Head Chef had rung last night to announce dinner had been served. "Lunch already?" Daniela asked, seemingly speaking for all of us as the girls shared a surprised look amongst themselves: apparently, we had all lost track of time whilst having 'fun'. "Mother did teach us that time flies when having fun: but I swore we just had morning tea before coming down here." Bela added, seemingly just as surprised as Daniela at how fast the time had passed: a feat that didn't seem to be affecting Cassandra the same way, judging from her rolling eyes as she crossed her arms across her chest. "Well, what are we standing around for?! Mother's clearly expecting us, so let's hurry up and wash up! I can't wait to tell her how much fun our new Auntie is!" Cassandra said, excitement practically oozing off the middle sister as she relentlessly shoved her sisters back through the archway and in the direction we'd come from: not hearing a word of their protests until their voices eventually faded away until they were nothing but echoes bouncing off the bloodied, stone walls.
"Hurray…now they'll never leave me alone." I muttered to myself, having no choice but to resign to the fate I'd thrown myself into: at least now they'd hopefully stop pestering me to show them what I was capable of…even though I knew for a fact that that wasn't the case, not with Miranda breathing down my neck and pestering for more every chance she got. Despite my little 'slip-up', things actually might work out in my favor, I realized as I slowly made my way after them: content to set my own pace and enjoy the solitude without having to worry about answering an endless supply of questions like water rushing from a broken dam. The fact that I showed off my inhuman strength, not once: but three times, actually benefits me more than it does for Miranda: little did she know. Yes, it hinted at what I was capable of, but since I didn't actually show off any of the Blacklight virus' abilities: it would still keep the Crow guessing, driving her batshit insane with the desire to learn more. And when she pushed for more, and she would: I would continue to keep her guessing until she came for me herself, and when that time came: she'll be regretting every single attempt in the form of me using her as my own, personal volunteer.
'Too bad I won't be getting that chance for a while.' I thought, forcing myself to remember to keep a low profile until the time was right: despite how hard my instincts fought against that idea. Despite trying my best to keep a firm hand on my own Humanity: there were times when that concentration slipped, and if I was being honest with myself: I wouldn't mind 'loosening up' when it came time to hunt Miranda and personally teach her why you really should be careful what you wished for: because that bitch unknowingly brought a fox in the Henhouse, and that fox was hungry. In the meantime, I'd play along like the good little Monster I was: starting with lunch, then onward to visit another 'Sibling', but when it was time to pounce: it was a real shame I couldn't claim a front-row seat to watch my own performance, because it was going to be glorious: and glorious tended to result in a hell of a mess…and that was a fact that would happen regardless, and when it came to Miranda: there would be nothing she could do to protect herself from me, she just didn't know it…yet.
With that fact in mind, I let a small smile make its presence known as I followed after the girls with a bounce in my step: finding delight in that plan as it lifted my shitty mood into higher spirits, and while the others might think it was because of Miranda's gracious gift of welcoming me into her 'Family': only I knew what the cause really was, and neither the virus nor myself could wait for the perfect time to execute it, because when that day came: she's going to wish she was dead long before I was finished with her, and all I had to do, was play my part by putting my acting skills to work. 'And I'm going to enjoy the fuck out of your screams, so I do hope you have a good pair of lungs on you: because they'll be the last to go.' I thought, feeling my grin morph into something positively sadistic as I skipped up the stairs and in the direction of the Dining Hall: leaving the Dungeon behind and that much closer to teaching my darling 'Mother' that in playing with a bear-trap, you'll eventually lose a hand: only, this bear-trap has a secret surprise stashed away, and the only thing I had to do in the meantime…was wait.