Category: Resident Evil Village

Rating: M

Couples: -

Warnings: AU, mention of torture, Blood

Chapter: 42

Copyright: Characters & places © By Capcom, Plot & OC´s © by me

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"There has to be something that can be of help?" Karl actually felt hurt himself while looking at his elder sister, not to mention the panic of the other two women.

"..." Frederika looked up at him, face even. "About hour... can communicate. Can tell gentler." She shrugged lightly, reaching for the helmet-cocoon they had build for what remained of Ereina after the younger Nymph had given everything to fuel her older sister. "Until? No. Nothing I know."

"It's something." He handed it over carefully, making sure no water leaked in.

"Will it help...?" Mother Miranda was kneeling on the ground, cradling her eldest's upper body.

"Not sure." The older Nymph frowned. "We are Apodean. Pain remain. But less."

"You keep saying that, but what does it mean!?" Donna snarled, sitting beside her sister, both hands on the other's back.

"Apodean refer biology. Apoda. Caecilians." Her arms tightened and Karl was surprised to see something flash in her eyes. Was that... fear? "Matriphagy."

"Matri... phagy." The Priestess, once a biologist, echoed, parsing the meaning of the word from her memories. "Mother eating!?"

"Yes."

"She is being eaten!?" It echoed, wings snapping open in rage.

"Yes." The amber form closed off. "That how mothers died. Ate them. Mother heals. Faster than can eat."

Which explained why they had been so adamant in getting Alcina back. Instead of several, they would only need her. No missing persons, no laborous hunts aside from this one... Just the one for all the Nymphs they could ever want.

Karl shuddered at the thought, eyes looking over to his white-clad sister. Eaten alive... for weeks!? No wonder she'd been unconscious for the entire time. He shuddered again at the reminder of how she had looked when they found her. Would there be a repeat of that?

"How... how dare they!?" Power flooded the area, Miranda's arms tightening. Then, as suddenly as it had come, her rage disappeared in front of his eyes. "How..." Something happened in her mind that he could not follow, but she shook herself. "No matter. Donna, can you use your pollen to put her to sleep or something? Anything to keep her unaware for the hour?"

"Maybe... but the rain..." The Dollmaker looked outside, where the rain was still falling in sheets and cleansing the air of any pollen that might have been there.

"There's no rain inside. Would your pollen have spread there?" Karl suggested, considering the huddle of women. "If we can get her inside, it might be enough."

"Worth a try." Moreau offered behind him, groaning as he shifted again. "Bring her closer. I can carry her the rest of the way."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

It worked, the Dimitrescu Matriarch growing slack once Moreau had carried her inside. Still, more blood poured from her and knowing what he did now, he did not want to imagine the internal damage she was suffering. What a bloody mess, in more ways than one.

Donna was cradling the taller woman's head on her lap, all her focus on keeping suffering and sufferer firmly seperated. Moreau rested nearby in a puddle of rainwater, exhausted after everything. Karl started looking for a comfortable place to rest himself. His arms would feel on fire tomorrow, and probably several days afterwards.

Looking around, he found Mother Miranda and the two Nymphs in a corner, the blonde looming over the small child. Hearing her out about anything and everything she knew of Nymphs, clearly. Safely inside, Ereina had oozed out of her makeshift shelter, and was currently climbing into a bowl of fruit nearby. She, much like her sister, was much weakened after their outbreak of rage earlier, slugging along at barely the size of a tiny puppy or kitten and moving like molasses even considering her size.

The triplets returned quickly from securing the prisoners in the family-dungeon, huddling around the prone form of their mother. One of them started using their wet dress-sleeves to wipe away the blood on the older woman's face tenderly. Once in a while, a series of flinches would ripple through them and he did not want to know exactly why they were.

All of them were waiting, waiting to see if Frederika's assumption of being able to order a gentling would work.

"Why... can a Nymph not be removed?" He finally settled on one of the lounges against the wall. "Wouldn't it be like a tumor... pardon the comparison?"

"Yes." The eldest Nymph crossed her arms defensively. "We made spread like mold. First... claim all... or lot, least. That what happen first hour after impart. Then feed claim." She helplessly shrugged. "While claim. Only Claim. No other. After can commune."

Ah... less like a tumor and more like a cancer, spreading out over the body and overtaking it all.