Ethan stirred from a long, deep, dreamless sleep. His head throbbed with a dull pounding. He kept his eyes closed as a result, muttering a curse under his breath. His damn head was hurting far more often than it wasn't these days. Getting his blood sucked to the point of unconsciousness really had to stop. Blacking out every other goddamn hour was getting tiring. One way or another, Ethan swore to himself, he would put a stop to it.
For now, a little more rest wouldn't kill him. Maybe the headache would subside after another hour of sleep. Ethan rolled onto his side. The soft mattress beneath him shifted under his weight. He tugged the warm blanket around him closer to ward off the dungeon's chill.
Ethan opened his eyes.
He peered down at the thick, grey fur blanket that effectively cocooned him. Swiveling his head around revealed a small but soft pillow upon which his head had been resting. Scanning further, Ethan found the mattress he was lying on, wrapped in a pristine beige bedsheet. All of this was definitely not here the last time he was conscious. The mattress was a sizeable one as well. It was easily taking up a third of the cell, resting on the floor and flushed up against the rear wall. A little too close to his still unused chamber pot, but who was he to complain.
Bela was an enigma that he didn't yet have all the pieces to figure out. She declared that she was not his protector, yet shooed off her sisters and meticulously tended to his injuries. She called him prey, likening him to a deer or a hare. Yet she held him gently – cradled him, really – until he passed out. She drank his blood, yet never went out of her way to hurt him in the process.
She locked him up like a rat in a cage, yet fed him, clothed him, and gave him a warm bed. She put on a front of indifference and callousness when called out, yet wore clear remorse at the mention of Mia's death. She readily informed him of Rose's (rough) location, all in exchange for blood she could have taken whether he liked it or not.
Maybe it was more like symbiosis than he would like to admit.
Or, maybe he was losing his mind.
Ethan didn't have much more time to ponder Bela's motivations or the new furniture he'd been given. The signature click of heels on stone heralded Bela's arrival. Within moments, she appeared from around the corner. Bela looked just as she had during their last encounter. Same black dress sans gloves, hood lowered, and pretty face free of blood. It was a fair indicator that perhaps not much time had passed since she'd last fed from him.
As the drowsiness subsided moment by moment, Ethan picked up on a soft ticking to his side. True enough, Bela had gotten him that clock after all. In the warm lanternlight, Ethan found it was a small, brass, vintage alarm clock. The hands told him it was a little past four in the afternoon. Easily over five hours since Bela's last feeding. Maybe she was due for her next.
Bela carried a now familiar tray in her hands. Atop it was a bowl, from which a meaty, savory aroma wafted; it sent a hungry rumble up Ethan's stomach. Joining the bowl was the goblet and decanter duo from before. This time, an orange liquid swirled within them. The return of his appetite was a good sign. It was a pleasant enough surprise that the dull headache he was currently contending with was the worst of his symptoms post-blood drinking.
Ethan sat up and crossed his legs, allowing the blanket to slide down and bundle at his lap.
"How is my favorite man-thing doing?" Bela beamed with a bright smile.
"Wow. Favorite." Ethan rolled his eyes. "I'm honored, tapeworm."
Bela didn't miss a beat in the face of his sarcasm. "You should be. It as a most esteemed position."
"Not like I have any competition. Aren't I your only man-thing?" Ethan raised a brow in question.
Still smiling, Bela curtly told him, "Be quiet."
Ethan let out a half-scoff, half-chuckle and ducked his head for a moment. He was bantering with her. Was this all part of the plan too? Get all buddy-buddy with Bela? Keep her guard down and endear himself to her to guarantee his survival?
Maybe it was.
Ethan's eyes landed on the mattress beneath him, and the warm blanket still partially wrapped around him. His eyes went up to Bela, who studied the path of his gaze.
He couldn't help but ask, "Is this one of the perks of being your favorite man-thing?"
The way Bela's smile widened, and her eyes avoided his seemed to be an answer on their own. What that answer was exactly, Ethan wasn't so sure. So, he added on, "Does this somehow make my blood taste better too?"
"Yes, actually." Her golden eyes returned to him. "A well-rested man-thing is a healthy man-thing. The healthier, the tastier."
It always went back to the blood.
"So," Ethan eyed the savory smelling bowl on her tray. "Feeding me again? So that you can feed from me again?"
"You have lost quite a lot of blood in a short span of time, Ethan." Bela bent down to slide the tray in through the slot. "More blood than I have seen most men bleed."
"Gee, I wonder whose fault that is."
Bela laughed softly as she straightened up. She motioned to the tray. "I am simply ensuring you replenish those tasty little blood cells of yours."
Ethan couldn't argue with that. There was no point in starving himself down here, and Bela had since proven her lack of desire to poison him. She had no use for such simple, deceitful tools. If she wanted him curled around her finger, then her words, actions, and improvements to his living situation were more than enough. That appeared to be her plan after all.
Standing up, Ethan belatedly realized his shoes had been taken off when he was tucked into bed. They were set aside to the right side of his cell, next to his family photo and new alarm clock. His socks did little to defend against the cold stone floor; it was a no brainer to slip his shoes back on before anything else. He crossed the cell and picked up the sizeable bowl, along with the fork that came with it.
It looked like a high-protein mix fit for a bodybuilder. Ethan could make out cubes of sautéed beef and chicken liver resting on top of a thick bed of spinach. A helping of beans, sliced tomatoes, and small potatoes intermingled the meat and greens. Finally, a healthy amount of minced garlic capped off the meal.
It smelled divine.
Ethan reached down to pick up the filled goblet. He was a little parched and this – Ethan was sure even before it reached his lips – orange juice was going to hit the spot. Sweet, refreshing, and delightfully tangy. Ethan sipped half of it down before returning it to the tray so he could focus on the bowl.
He took a big forkful into his mouth, which exploded with taste. The meat was soft and juicy, the veggies were expertly seasoned, and the garlic tied it all up in a delectable fusion of flavor.
The satisfied hum rumbled from Ethan's chest before he could reel it in. He chewed and prepared another forkful, eager to indulge in the rich taste.
Bela was even craftier and sharper than he'd originally suspected. She knew the way into a man's heart – or more aptly, his blood – was through his stomach.
He was doomed.
The blonde, he realized, had been peering at him closely the entire time. He'd been a little too absorbed in the OJ and the bowl to notice her. Seeing her now though, it was clear she'd gotten a kick out of his reaction to the food. This was the happiest he'd seen Bela smiling thus far – probably closely rivaling the times she drank his blood.
It sunk in quite late to Ethan.
Bela had likely cooked this herself. It explained that proud, satisfied smile she wore now that he was wolfing down the bowl. The same probably went for the loaf of bread earlier today – she'd looked ready to smack him for insinuating the bread had been a DoorDash delivery.
Like a good prisoner, Ethan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and said, "Thanks."
"You are most welcome." That wide grin persisted until Bela's form shifted, and she phased through the cell bars.
Ethan took half a step back in mild alarm – thinking she was going to ask him to relax again so soon. Then, Bela reformed in shape, taking long steps around Ethan until she reached his mattress. With less ceremony than her usual finesse, Bela plopped down.
A little cluelessly, Ethan continued eating while watching Bela get comfortable. She leaned against the back stone wall, pulled the fur blanket over her lap, then kicked her heels off. She tucked her feet in under the blanket with crossed legs.
There goes the idea of sitting on the mattress while eating. While there was certainly room for two on that bed, Ethan wasn't too keen on sharing it with Bela. So instead, Ethan leaned against the cell bars by the door to face her while he ate.
Swallowing a chunk of liver, Ethan voiced, "Interesting choice of food here. Can't say I expected the orange juice, either."
Bela frowned ever so slightly. She spoke in a tone which hinted she expected him to have figured it out by now. "It is a high-iron diet. The Vitamin C will help with the iron absorption. Your blood levels will be back up before you know it."
Ethan wouldn't admit it aloud, but the headache had subsided quite quickly. The mold worked at a rapid pace to break down the food he was eating. The nutrients were put to use at a rate that no ordinary metabolism could hope to match.
He mused, "Then I'll be ripe for your next blood-sucking session."
Bela grinned. "Precisely."
Ethan scoffed, but continued digging in anyway. Better to be well-fed and bled dry than starving and bled dry.
Once more though, Ethan's curiosity was piqued. If he were in charge of keeping a prisoner fed, he'd be microwaving TV-Dinners for them – or heating up cups of Top Ramen. He would need a deep dive into Google and Pinterest to find a recipe that was particularly high in iron. Something told Ethan that Bela didn't need to do that to prepare this meal.
"For someone that eats people, you're pretty handy cooking… well, normal food. I'm guessing the bread earlier was yours too."
Bela gave a long hum, leaning her head back on the wall. "You would be guessing correctly."
Hoping to get a reaction out of Bela, Ethan shrugged one shoulder and asked, "So – if you weren't a doctor before the bug-lady life, were you a cook? A chef?"
Amber eyes tightened his way. "Why are you so interested in my past, Ethan?"
Ethan cracked a smile which he hoped was more friendly than sly. "You said so yourself – I'm gonna be here a while." He gestured to Bela with the fork before sticking it back into the bowl. "Symbiosis and all that."
Bela was not so easily swayed, it seemed. That, or Ethan's poker face needed work. She steered clear of her history, instead telling him, "I do my fair share of cooking and baking. It helps me unwind."
"Food that you and your sisters eat? And your mother?"
"Mhm," Bela hummed.
It was Ethan's turn to squint at Bela. "If you and your family eat normal food then-"
"Why eat humans?" Bela finished the question for him, "Why drink their blood?"
"Yeah. Doesn't make sense." Ethan scooped up another mouthful of spinach, waiting for her response.
Bela pressed her lips together in consideration. An idle hand went up to run through her wavy hair, combing the stray knot or two out.
"Imagine being…" A look of disgust crossed the blonde's face. "Vegan."
Ethan snorted at Bela's unintentional comedic timing. He coughed to clear his airways of bits of stray spinach that went down the wrong pipe.
Bela took his reaction to be in line with hers. "I know, right? Imagine being absolutely restricted in your choice of cuisine, and in the sources from which you draw nutrition."
"Where," Ethan cleared his throat again with a grunt, "Where are you going with this?"
"Avoiding human meat and blood entirely is akin to becoming vegan for us. We aren't human. Our nutritional needs are not the same as yours – similar, maybe," Bela bobbed her slender shoulders in a shrug. "But still different. We would have to eat twice as much as that bowl in your hands every meal to get enough iron and protein."
Discussing the finer, nutritional points of cannibalism was one of the many things Ethan never thought he would be doing. But here he was.
It was morbidly fascinating if nothing else. If he weren't so famished, and the food weren't so good, it would have been enough to kill his appetite.
The revelation was interesting just the same – that they didn't strictly need to eat people. It was simply much more convenient than the alternative. Bela and her sisters would likely have to spend a fourth of their waking time eating to get their needed nutrition without human blood. Human meat was probably just an extension of the blood drinking.
"So, let me get this straight: it's human meat and blood, plus normal food to completely round out your diet."
"Exactly." Bela smiled. She was probably happy he was catching on and no longer looking at them through the cannibal or vampire lens. "Without vegetables, fruits, or other meat, we would become quite deficient in other essential nutrients."
"How are you this – this knowledgeable about the details of your diet?" Ethan let out a short, confused laugh. "I couldn't tell you how much of which nutrient or protein that I need."
Bela tsked, giving him a playfully disapproving shake of her head. "A grown man like you should pay attention to your nutrition. I can't do all the work for you."
Ethan rolled his eyes and reiterated. "My point, Bela, is that humans have been around for millions of years. We've had plenty of time to figure out our diets. I'm the exception here, not the rule. But you," He pointed the fork at her again, earning a slight glare – probably at his lack of table manners, "You and your sisters – you're like three of a kind, aren't you? How old are you? How much time have you had to study yourselves in this much detail?"
To Ethan's surprise, Bela's smile steadily widened as he spoke – as though enthralled by his inquisitive line of discussion. If Ethan's stomach was the key to his blood, then maybe good, relatively smart conversation was the key to Bela's favor.
"Silly man. You mustn't ask a lady her age." Bela looked down at Ethan from the tip of her nose, head tilted one way in a haughty manner.
"Oh, fuck off," Ethan grumbled, earning a sharp laugh from Bela. She pressed a hand to her chest, finger grazing against her red pendant and the collection of oddities on her necklace.
With a toothy grin, Bela answered, "My sisters and I have been around for easily over half a century now."
Ethan raised his brows in a brief, surprised manner. Their youthful appearances were a farce, but that really shouldn't have come as a shocker. The whole bug-woman thing certainly implied a degree of control over their looks. "Could've fooled me," Ethan remarked.
The smile Bela wore took a shy, almost flattered turn. Ethan hadn't meant to accidentally compliment her. But if it was going to be a steppingstone to earning her favor, then he wasn't about to take it back.
And well, it was true. Bela and (Ethan had to admit) her siblings did look like attractive young women, especially once you cleaned the blood and the psychotic, murderous intent off of their faces.
"If we're being honest, it was more of me studying myself." Bela appeared thoughtful as she continued running a hand through her blonde hair, playing with the curls at the very tips. "Cassandra detested changes to her diet – she outright refused to participate. Daniela was a more willing assistant, but her attention is seldom fixed to one thing for long. In the end, it was simply easier to study my own metabolism and dietary needs."
Bela made her siblings sound so normal, like they were just any other group of functionally dysfunctional sisters. Hardly the murderous man-eating duo who'd carved him up a day prior. From Bela's perspective, Ethan supposed it made sense that was all they were. When it came to family, some things didn't change. Everyone had their own quirks and personalities that took some getting used to. It just so happened that Bela's family imprisoned, killed, and ate people to fulfill their dietary needs.
"So, you could say I have had much time to study myself. I would have been a fool not to." There was a charming twinkle to Bela's intelligent eyes. She gesticulated vaguely in the air as she said, "If you know not yourself, you will succumb to every battle."
Ethan frowned in disbelief. "Oh my God. Did you just loosely quote Sun Tzu?"
Bela's eyes flitted away for a beat, and she shrugged nonchalantly. "Yes? So, what if I did?"
"You're a nerd, Bela."
That was rich coming from Ethan – the guy who tinkered with computer systems for a living before life went to shit. Bela didn't need to know that though.
Bela scrunched her face up in displeasure. "Annoying, aren't you?" She scowled.
Ethan suppressed a shit-eating grin from behind his nearly empty bowl of food. As entertaining as it was to push Bela's buttons, he didn't want to test his luck just too much. Although, it was good to know he could get away with messing with her a little. It was the least that could be done to make the blood-cattle life a little more amusing while he figured out his escape.
They lapsed into a short period of silence, interrupted only by Ethan's fork clinking against the bowl. He scraped the final remnants of food from the bottom, pausing occasionally to sip from the orange juice provided to him. Once Bela's miffed expression eased off, she appeared like the very image of relaxation. She rested her head back against the stone wall, eyes closed as she took slow, deep breaths.
Even if Ethan had a goddamn rocket launcher on him, there was probably no way it would harm Bela. It was no wonder she was so at ease around him, knowing she was all but invincible. He watched the steady rise and fall of her chest until the last bits of his food and drink were consumed. He set the bowl and the utensils down on the tray before leaning back against the cell door to face Bela.
When Bela showed no sign of moving any time soon, Ethan decided to bite the bullet – since there was little other reason she would be here anyway.
"You gonna take your next drink yet?"
Bela's amber eyes fluttered open to regard him. Placing a hand over her stomach, she shook her head. "I am quite quenched from our last feeding. What about you?" She motioned to the tray, "Is your hunger sated?"
Not the response Ethan was expecting, but he nodded. "Yeah. Thanks."
A small smile, and Bela simply said, "Good."
Bela appeared content to shut her eyes and take a catnap on his mattress, leaning back on the wall. Ethan wasn't quite sure what to make of that, other than how odd it all was – how she was chill to just relax in his prison cell. He shifted slightly himself to get a little comfortable leaning on the cell door. His back audibly cricked in the process, and Ethan let out a shallow grunt. More deliberately now, Ethan stretched until his spine released a series of pops.
He'd been couped up in here an entire day now. He was long overdue a little movement to get the blood (while he still had it in his body) pumping. Bela's revelation hours ago came to mind – of how Rose was in the castle.
A dozen questions cropped up in relation to this – was she being cared for? Fed? Changed? Cradled? Burped? Was one of the human servants assigned to her? He wasn't going to get answers down here – unless they came from Bela herself. Something told Ethan that she wouldn't volunteer the information all at once. Rose's precise location would be challenging to discern. So, the next best thing would be to get a lay of the land. That way, when he did get to explore unchaperoned and unmolested, he stood a fighting chance.
"Hey, Bela." Ethan waited for Bela's eyes to lazily open once more. She hummed in question, prompting him to continue, "When are you letting me out of here? It's been a whole day now."
Bela's shoulders sagged by a degree as she sighed. "We have been through this, Ethan. I cannot just let you out. It's not that simple."
"You don't have to let me go for good, just – like, let me walk and stretch my legs a little." Ethan swung his legs around for emphasis.
A devilish grin split across Bela's features, and Ethan immediately regretted his choice of words. "Stretch your legs? Like take you for walkies? Are you my puppy, Ethan?"
"Fuck off," Ethan huffed.
Bela's delighted laughter echoed off the walls in what was, admittedly, not the worst sound to ring out in the dungeon. The back of her hand pressed to her lips in the effort to stifle the laughter. It simmered down to a fit of amused giggles, further spurred on by the daggers Ethan was glaring at her.
When Bela finally reeled it in, she began in a more leveled tone, "If I let you out, Cassandra is going to get her claws on you. What was the term you used? Craved like a prime rib? Sipped up like a Capri Sun?" She shook her head. "Prying my sister's jaws off of your jugular is not my idea of a good time."
Ethan cracked a smirk as he recalled, "I thought you said you weren't here to save me from your sisters."
Bela paused, eyes avoiding his for all of a split second. She recovered in record time. With an air of indifference, she asked, "So you would rather that I allow them to have their way with you?"
"No, no," Ethan quickly clarified, "I like my skin where it is – attached to my body."
Bela laughed; it was a jovial, lighthearted sound. Worlds apart from her sisters when they tore into him. Sadistic. Sinister. Almost comically villainous if it weren't for the imminent danger.
A familiar, considerate look crossed Bela's expressive features. She observed Ethan with a tilt of her head for a long moment before voicing her thoughts. "Now that you mention it, I might have something in mind."
Considering Bela wasn't here for a feeding, then there was no telling what she had in store. Whatever it was, it was probably better than getting his blood sucked to the point of unconsciousness.
"I'm all ears."
"Are you familiar with woodworking?"
Ethan stared at Bela, waiting for a punchline.
When it didn't come, he repeated, "Woodworking?"
Bela nodded, apparently serious in her query.
Ethan could code an enterprise resource planning system from scratch.
Woodworking? Not his specialty.
"…Not really, no."
"Too bad," Bela flashed a smile that told him he had no say in the matter. "You are going to help me fix the doorway molding that we broke."
The sound of splintering wood beneath Bela's fist from just a day prior came to mind. Their brief tussle in the dining room ended with that doorframe and his pride as the only casualties.
"Doorway molding that you broke," Ethan corrected.
"I would not have broken it if you had not ducked," Bela spoke very matter-of-factly, "Therefore, we broke it."
As Ethan rolled his eyes, he did consider the offer – not that his consent mattered if push came to shove. While Ethan's woodworking capabilities were elementary at best, he did have some relevant experience. When he and Mia first moved into their now bullet-riddled home, he'd bumped a table into a doorframe rather hard. The whole trim needed replacing. As long as Bela had the parts and tools on hand, they could probably get the job done.
There was no way it would look like a professional job. The final outcome would undoubtedly look like the handiwork of a bug-woman and her prisoner. That would be Bela's problem. Her fault for recruiting a shmuck like him and not someone more qualified.
"You know what? Yeah, let's do it. Beats sitting around and blacking out every hour."
"Excellent." Bela pulled her heels back on and got up to her feet, allowing the blanket to bundle up on the mattress. She smoothed out her dress as she said, "I am sure you've got an inner handyman somewhere in there."
"For your door's sake, let's hope so."
Bela crossed the room in a blur of fluttering wings. Ethan barely had time to register the movement and she was already on the other side of the cell door. Fishing a key from her dress pockets, she unlocked the door with a loud click.
The door's hinges croaked, sounding in dire need of a sip of WD-40. Bela stood to the side to give Ethan some space to step out. He paused before he could fully cross the threshold of the door.
Was it really that simple? Where were the shackles? The handcuffs? The collar around his neck to ensure he didn't get far? Bela procured no restraints from her pockets. She made no move to impede his ability to escape in any way.
She had no need for tools such as those, Ethan realized. With her superhuman abilities, she could turn him into a mushy red paste if she wished. The lack of shackles was also likely another one of her small olive branches – her way of making him feel trusted. She knew he wouldn't make an attempt to escape – and he wouldn't. Not now, at least. Not when his plan was still in the blueprinting stage.
"Come on," Bela reached her hand out.
Ethan winced internally – maybe he was wrong, and here came the handcuffs.
Bela looped her arm around his and stood pressed to his side. They were like a pair of teenagers, arms interlocked while strolling along the beach.
Except they were nothing at all like that.
Ethan was a prisoner being kept alive for his blood. Bela was a man-eating bug-woman who preyed on his dwindling sanity. They were in a dungeon that had likely seen hundreds of lives snuffed out far before their time.
"Are you okay?" Bela's arm curled around his. Her hand landed on his bicep, and she observed, "You seem quite tense."
They were sobering thoughts that had crossed his mind. He needed more of those if he wanted to keep a hold of his wits.
Ethan swallowed the small, nervous lump in his throat. "Yeah, just… do you really need to hold onto me like that?"
Bela's hand fell from his bicep; she kept a much looser hold on his arm instead. Golden eyes avoided his.
"Sorry," Bela's voice lacked the usual confidence. She cleared her throat and willed her gaze to meet his. "I did not mean to make you uncomfortable. It's just a precaution."
Ethan's insides made a small turn when he saw Bela's nearly dejected expression. He frowned softly. "A precaution?"
"Yes," Bela nodded. She extended her free hand out towards the lantern in Ethan's cell. With a degree of fascination, Ethan watched as her hand's form flickered, and flies swarmed on over to the lantern. The colony of bugs formed a vague amorphous trail from Bela's arm to the lantern, which then began floating. Slowly, the bugs brought the lamp closer, up until Bela's now solid hand gripped the handle. Gravely serious now, Bela told him, "We are not alone down here."
The statement snapped Ethan out of his brief interest in Bela's control over her bug powers.
"What? What do you mean we're not alone?"
A/N: Hello, my dear readers. Thank you so much for reading. Do please fave and follow if you haven't yet, and shoot me a review to let me know how this one went. I love hearing from you guys!
I also apologize for the relative short length of this one. This was supposed to be longer, but I was up to 11k+ words already and still not finished, so I decided to split the chapters. So that just means the next chapter will be a nice, meaty one to be published over the weekend. You guys can expect at least 1 chapter a week, published around Sunday-Monday.
A couple of interesting bits I wrote in here, I think! Getting into the Dimitrescu daughters' diets, more banter, and now Ethan the Handyman to the rescue. You can probably expect Bela to take her puppy (he's gonna hate being called that) on more walks. But alas, the dungeons were never a very safe place, as anyone that played the game will know. They'll probably be fine if they stick together ;)
But anyway, I'll catch you all at the next update, probably some time over the weekend. Have a good one!
