Category: Resident Evil Village
Rating: M
Couples: -
Warnings: AU, mention of torture, Blood
Chapter: 45
Copyright: Characters & places © By Capcom, Plot & OC´s © by me
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Their mother was a ghost... and Ereina could not blame her. Even if Third grew much gentler, it would be a horrifying reminder of the one that had not grown gentle; Ereina herself.
There was no doubt none of the other's truly understood how it felt to have a Nymph incubate inside you, gentle or not. She hoped they never had to.
She slugged through the castle, having slipped from her bowl and moving after the Dimitrescu matriarch. There was no more make-up, no more shiny jewels. Was this how it had looked when First had moved through the country towards the village?
The youngest born Nymph was not even certain the older woman was aware that she was following.
"First." She spoke up when noticing the ghostly trail her mother was taking, ignoring the few maids she encountered.
"The dungeon?" Frederika answered, either being that good at locating her sibling or just being a good guesser.
"Yes." The cat-sized mold blob answered softly, making her way down the stairs slowly. Too fast and she risked tearing herself apart, which was annoying at least and very problematic at worst.
"How does she feel?" Frederika adressed their unnamed sibling. Ereina saw the tall form take a sharp breath, not slowing in the slightest in her progress.
"I... cannot tell." Third answered, the taste swimming in their bearer's blood unknown to them.
"Follow her. I will get grandmother." First had been in the gardens, testing some theories. Now she would leave the castle, heading to the battlefield, where Mother Miranda was overseeing the clean-up.
"Yes." She compacted a bit, squeezing under a closed door. It probably was not even intentional, the way her mother was putting obstacles in her path. She had only started moving on her own after the battle, so everyone was still getting used to her doing so. It was probably the only upside of the battle, that her body had been hardened, figuratively and literally, as First had torn her apart a hundred times.
The stairs were damp, which was annoying, but she could handle it.
"There's a flood." Third informed them softly and she was starting to figure out where their mother was heading exactly now.
"Cease." First sounded faint, nearing the edge of range from where their communication was more than merely sensing presence.
"Yes." Their younger sibling was obedient and would cease eating for as long as they'd manage upon command. Until now, the longest they'd managed was two hours, which they usually timed for during the night, to allow their mother at least some full, painless sleep.
But this? This warranted no-pain either. There'd be enough mental pain without adding the pain of harbouring an Apodean Nymph in your stomach-region.
Second detoured briefly, devouring one of the half-dead prisoners to gain enough mass to compensate for mass-loss from the dampness and local puddles in the dungeon.
Up ahead, the door to the cell was open. It was as she dreaded; the cell that had not opened ever since its' occupant had been put in there.
"She is with him." Ereina warned her elder sister, unspoken urging for speed echoing in their mindscape.
"I feared as much." Frederika muttered darkly. "Where are our sisters?"
"Out of range." For several reasons; she did not know where they were and even if she did, it would take her far too long to get to them. Speed was not the forte of something or someone that 'slugged' as a mode of transport.
"Support her." As if she was planning on doing anything else. When she reached the door, it was still open.
Alcina Dimitrescu stood tall in the room, claws of one hand extended. Oh no...
"Slow grandmother." Grandmother would not want to see this... would not want to hear this... Mother would not want her to see or hear this.
"I cannot." Their grandmother, more than any other members of their family, was a force of nature. She should have expected that it would still be true compared to a failed Nymph. The ground beneath her hummed with the eldest's powers.
Her mother's voice was sharp and broken, like shards of glass carving through through the air.
Gorgeous crystal, cracked and nearly shattered. One wrong touch, and it was destroyed beyond repair.
She did not listen, did not want to hear. Bloating, she made herself too soft to catch the vibrations of her mother's words, of the outward pain. Their Maker would die, she was quite certain of it. It would be a necessary bloodbath.
"You watched me!" Even weakened, her mother's roar echoed, trembling the stone around them. There was no level of softness that could save her from hearing that.
Unexisting eyes kept their focus on the cell, body ballooning until it filled a good part of the hallway.
"Anger." Third whimpered, as even without actively eating, they could still taste their surroundings. She did not want to know how their mother had to taste now. Anger would probably not be anywhere the right word to describe it.
"Yes." First's voice sounded louder and closer. "Very much so."
The horrifying screech of claws cutting through metal and stone drowned out any other statements that could be made.
The crystal that was her mother had shattered, leaving only a mindless, rage-filled beast.