Category: Resident Evil Village
Rating: M
Couples: -
Warnings: AU, mention of torture, Blood
Chapter: 21
Copyright: Characters & places © By Capcom, Plot & OC´s © by me
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It was a ghostly apparition that passed through the mountains of Romania. If anyone saw it, they would have struck by its' beauty first of all, but then they would have been struck by terror.
The form was that of a woman, inhumanely tall and nearly divinely gorgeous, bringing to mind the statues of greek goddesses in musea all across Europe. Curls cascaded down from her head, framing a face that was accentuated with faint wrinkles, like she loved laughter and life. Despite beauty-standards, the mortals that were to look upon her would consider the wrinkles gorgeous accents, elevating her beauty instead of marring it.
Of course, they would not be getting near enough to notice them. The fools that would try to suppress their instincts and close the distance would die, suffocating on the apparition's flesh.
In an age of zombies and deadly virusses, in a world that had suffered through Raccoon City, Kujiji, Lanshiang and various other locations, only a mad man would approach something so clearly unnatural.
The creature moved too fluidly to be natural, like there were no bones to consider, nor obstacles in her path. The long dress she wore moved along as if she was floating, though if one could look at its' bottom without dying, one could see it flowed along, like a poorly created CGI-woman that had been implemented badly into the scene.
The form glowed lightly under what moonlight pierced the leaves above, refracting the light over the amber surface.
Once in a while, when the woman proved too tall for branches, instead of ducking under them, her body would simply ooze around them. She did not even consider trees in her path, those that were too thick for her to do as she did with branches, were cut down as her elegant hands turned into long blades.
The only things she seemed to consider were the mountains themselves, never passing beyond the treeline even if that meant she had to walk around them.
Looking up, the form considered the moon briefly, not ceasing her relentless walk, secure in her ability to not have to worry about anything in her path. A deer, spooked by her appearance, ran through the underbrush, the first real sound in her vicinity. Up ahead, a road appeared between the trees, two-lane asfalt cutting through the unkempt nature of the region.
Down south, lights appeared around a bend, a car driving along. The poor driver, scared by some unknown sense, was pressing down the gaspedal dangerously hard.
The apparition did not seem to consider him worth its' attention, only briefly looking in his direction when the light of his headlights hit her. Perhaps, had he considered her a figment of his imagination fueled by being awake far too late, he would have survived, as his car was not too large for her to ooze around. Instead, at the sight of a woman as tall as the Tyrants and other things that filled the news, he followed his instincts and swerved.
She looked on in utter disregard when the vehicle blew up on impact with a large oak beside the road.
The flames reflected on her amber body, being so bright that one could see that the woman was see-through all the way, like a large glass statue.
Passing into the forest again, she left behind the scene. The next day, police would consider it a tragic accident, brought on by the man speeding and being sleep-deprived on a stretch of road that held no streetlamps.
The next mountain, she risked scaling to the top. The uneven terrain bothered her as little as it had in the forest and soon she stood at the very top, like a Romanian 'Christ the Redeemer'. Ahead of her were more mountains and forests, and just visible at the edge of her sight were the lights of a settlement. Below, something howled and though it made no difference to her, she noted that the sounds were far more human than they ought to be.
With the grace of a goddess descending from Mount Olympos itself, the moving statue started its' journey down the mountain, the target she had been hunting for weeks well within her sight by now.
Even when daybreak arrived, sun cresting the mountainrange up ahead, the apparition did not pauze. In fact, aside from a few instances, she had not pauzed during her entire journey.
The howls grew in volume and number, but their owners did not approach. To their primitive minds, she was not to be touched after all. They did not know that for all that she looked like one of their Lords, she very much was not. They saw only the form, not that the form had been cast from amber and that she moved with a ethereal grace even the original owner could only match at the best of times, constrained as she was by the limitations of her human body, changed though it might have been by the gift her mother had bestowed upon her.
And so the Lycans let pass the creature wearing a copy of Lady Alcina Dimitrescu's face, allowing her to pass into the domain they were supposed to protect from all outsiders ever since its' Lords had regained their sister from her torment. Below her, the Mutamycete throbbed in the earth, but did not warn its' wielder to the intruder on her lands. To the mold that suffused the entire area, amber was something natural, oozing from trees as resin and hardening into gems over time. Below it, there were still stores of it, buried underground as the world changed again and again.
There was no need to consider it.