A man of average build and height lounged in his comfortable seat, in a small dark room with six monitors with vastly different images surrounding him. The man had short black hair and brown eyes. Utterly unremarkable.
James Sallow, known to most by his working pseudonym Nightcrawler, pinched the bridge of his nose as he dispassionately gazed at the monitor to his left, where a recording from their logistics facility AO-2 was playing. The man watched it five times already. He still struggled to grasp the indisputable facts, even as they were shoved roughly into his face, again and again.
Somehow their hidden island facility was discovered and raided. The T/EX-042 'Goalkeeper' unit that was stationed there was soundly defeated, despite the fact that it was outfitted with the cutting-edge threat-assessment module and designed to repel a full infantry platoon. The loss of the two-million dollar guardian unit was regrettable, but it utterly paled in comparison to the damage they suffered as the facility imploded in a fireball of epic proportions when its fuel depot was sabotaged. The warehouses contained a great deal of various expensive and rare items and components, waiting to be distributed to other facilities in the region.
And then, there were the culprits. The goddamn Dimitrescu daughters. Unsurprisingly, they were aided by the Duke - the inhumanely elusive man was a thorn in their side for a while now. Much more shocking was the presence of one Ethan Winters, also helping the filthy cadou mutants. The latter man was instrumental in the defeat of their guardian, no less. The loose ends were working together against them now, causing a figure in a low eight-digit number in property damage, already.
Further adding to the frustration, James had absolutely no idea how they managed to locate that island base. None of their recently lost assets were supposed to have any concrete information about it.
Above everything else, James simply couldn't comprehend the idea that Ethan Winters was still alive, because of some silly infatuation Sebastian had for his wife.
'A personal favor'… What a joke. Someone should really stop thinking with his dick and use his head for once. I can't believe my own fate is tied to that worthless clown. How did I ever allow it to get this bad? Fuck… I need to sort out this goddamn mess or it's gonna be my ass on the line next.
The unremarkable man knew that chasing Duke himself was pointless. The rotund merchant of death proved again and again that he could be two steps ahead of any search party they would send to locate him. But James knew his goal now. To raid their mold research & development facility and recover Subject A-D. All he had to do was to place his own pawns in the way. Let the prey come to the predator, instead of playing a useless cat and mouse game. Checking some files on his primary monitor, he hummed in satisfaction at what he read.
AO-2 logistics facility administrator, 2023 - Hugo Bergström.
James knew this man. A perfect, text-book example of why nepotism was a bad thing. Something that ran rampant in their organization, which made sense, since they did have heads of twelve families as their ruling council. Inevitably, some of the inept cousins or talentless nephews found their way to some distant place where they could reap the benefits without causing much harm. Normally, the practice disgusted the brunette man. Today, it will work to his advantage. He could vividly picture the coward panicking and giving up all the info he had, instead of merely destroying everything and playing dumb, like he was supposed to do. He knew exactly what kind of information was likely leaked and therefore - where the Duke's little party was headed next, all thanks to Mister Bergström.
Rotating his comfortable seat around, the man pressed something on his keyboard, before looking at the monitors to his right. Massaging his temple to alleviate his mounting headache, James waited patiently. He needed some fucking coffee right about now.
Finally, the first monitor to his right lit up and a large, extremely powerfully-built man in military fatigues with tanned skin frowned at him in irritation. The man had a bright red beret on his bald head and a Cuban cigar between his cracked lips. Santiago Escobar, commander of the Dire Wolves PMC, wasted no time in asking the obvious question. His voice was as gruff and intimidating as was the man himself.
"You have our prey?"
James was not a big fan of the crass, brutish murderer-for-hire glowering and growling at him now. Still, his kind had its uses. The Dire Wolves were well-equipped, highly trained and disciplined. Their track record spoke for itself, as they were deadly and efficient against both ordinary targets, as well as B.O.W.s The Connection's competitors wielded. Even though they were merely humans themselves, there was not a single bioweapon in the world James would bet his money on to triumph against the company of cold-blooded murderers Santiago commanded. The handler had no doubts the Dimitrescu siblings would be turned into a bloody smear on the ground if they even ran into the Wolves again.
The unremarkable man spoke neutrally, both his voice and visage distorted to make his conversational partner clueless about his true identity - a fact that the brute detested, no doubt.
"Potentially. I might have their next destination. Are your men ready?"
The merc almost roared at that, as if the very question offended him deeply.
"The Dire Wolves are always ready! The fucking mutants will pay for killing my men. My fucking brother. I'll have some quality time with the cunt who did it, before ending her. That bug-bitch will regret the day she was born."
Suppressing a moan in frustration from the empty bravado and unnecessary theatrics, the handler gulped down the freshly brewed black coffee that was brought to him just now. That hit the spot, even if the taste was mediocre. He spoke in that same neutral tone.
"We have some change of plans. Your targets are receiving aid from several extra parties. Some extra… firepower might be required to level the playing field."
As if on cue, before the commander could produce a no-doubt verbose growl explaining why he needed no help, the second monitor to his right lit up. The woman on it couldn't have contrasted the brutish mercenary any harder even if she tried to.
She was a tiny thing. James wasn't a tall man himself, but were she in a room with him, she would likely barely come to his shoulders. Her miniscule stature was far from her most distinctive visual trait, however. The woman looked like a fucking ghost, with even the calm handler being unnerved by her grim visage. It was as if every single pigment was stolen from her body - her skin was deathly pale and her short hair was white as snow. The only color one could see on her body were her deep purple eyes, yet few would find them beautiful, since a great many veins were crisscrossing her sclera, making it appear almost blood-red itself. She was dressed in simple exercise shorts and a bra, showing off her highly-athletic body. Not a single sign of extra fat could be seen on her. The tiny woman's appearance was completely disheveled and her squinting eyes implied that she just woke up.
This was Alice Grant, or Styx, as she liked to be called. Despite looking like a woman in her late thirties, James knew that she was, infact, merely twenty two. A lone 'success' of a shady volunteer-only genetic enhancement program that took place under the auspices of the U.S. government, four years ago. Her speed and reflexes were made peerless, utterly inhuman. The price was the enormous strain her body was under, daily - aging her rapidly and forcing her to consume more nutrients than even the mountain of bulging muscles on the monitor next to her, just to stay alive and active. As soon as she found out she was the sole success of the programm, and the most likely outcome for her would be to become a labrat for the rest of her short life, the woman used her newfound powers to escape, becoming a fugitive and soon a gun-for-hire that conquered the underworld.
She granted him a scowl of her own, before addressing him in a high-pitched, almost childish voice that one would struggle to match with her mature face.
"What the fuck do you want now? You know what time is it here, you dumb fuck? I told you to just send me the coordinates of the target, once your dumb-ass would finally find it. As if I wanna see your stupid fucking blurred shitface first thing when I wake up. Dumbass."
She actually made a face at him as she spoke her angry tirade. James wanted to do nothing more than to terminate connection with the infantile assassin, but he couldn't dismiss the sheer lethality Alice possessed. Regardless of what Mister Winters survived before, there was simply no possibility that he would walk away from his imminent encounter with Styx without an extra hole between his eyes.
Before he could respond to the vulgar woman, Santiago growled out, threat clear in his words.
"What? You want us to work with this fucking freak? That was not part of the deal. The Dire Wolves don't mingle with mutants."
At hearing the commander's voice, Alice exploded into a mocking, deafening laughter, before calming down and addressing the employer in her haughty high-pitched tone.
"You have to be joking, Nightcrawler. Why would I possibly want to work with these dumbasses? All they'll do is get in my way. How hard can this Ethan Winters be? Let the professional handle the job while your dumb-ass puppies go take a walk in the park to relieve themselves."
The small dark room exploded in a violent argument, as two immeasurable egos clashed in a verbal fight to the death. Massaging his temples with an expression of pure misery on his face, the man contemplated his life choices that led him to this very moment. At some point this gig used to be fun. It put his formidable intellect and multitasking capability to their limits. Then he got tied up with that bastard Sebastian. Now he had to babysit two deeply unpleasant personalities that somehow morphed into a true monstrosity of ego and bravado when brought into a single room.
I hate my work. I hate my piece-of-shit boss. I hate these braindead clowns. I hate this crappy coffee they brew here.
Five minutes and twenty 'dumbasses' later, James finally had enough. Slamming his hands hard on his desk, he raised his own voice, for the first time in a long while. That actually got the attention of the children in adult bodies.
"ENOUGH! Let me make it simple for you idiots. I don't give a shit about whether you work with each other or kill each other as you work. What matters to me is that the targets - yes, plural, are eliminated. I am sending you the coordinates of the facility they will likely raid next. Both of you will only be paid upon the confirmation of termination of both the Dimitrescu siblings and Winters. If any single one of them walks away, neither of you are getting shit. Do with this information what you will."
Despite being so vastly different in appearance and clearly hating each other, the guns-for-hire did exactly the same motion at hearing that verbose tirade - folded their arms and scowled at him. James quickly terminated the calls, unwilling to hear a single more word out of their crass mouths.
Sighing in frustration and impotent anger, the man almost wished for the bug-bitches and the loony father to collapse this house of cards of theirs; if only James himself wasn't right underneath it.
Bela's upper body shot up as she woke up, still dressed in her black-grey outfit, now soaked in sweat. Her head thrummed in pain. Her mind was a curious mix of contentment and anxiety.
Was it all... just a dream?
The woman wasn't sure if she was supposed to be happy or sad at that thought. Her black booted feet hit the floor as she got up from her bed, noting it to be soaked in sweat, as well. Her hands were still clutching a blanket without her conscious thought.
Not good signs…
As she looked into a small mirror on the wall, Bela couldn't help but let out a distressed gasp at the visage staring back. Her lips and chin were stained with dried blood. Her hair was disheveled and messy.
Closing her yellow eyes, she shuddered as she imagined herself right back at their castle. Her trance-like vision was so potent, for a second she would swear that she could hear the piercing scream of an errant maid, being drained of blood in the dungeons. Opening her amber orbs again slowly, as if afraid to find herself back in the poorly lit castle halls that she had called her home for so long, the woman sighed in relief as her small cabin coalesced before her, instead.
Her relief was short-lived, however, as her fingers gently ran over her bloodied lips.
Ethan's sweet blood…
Her eyes widened as the realization finally struck. That meeting with Ethan in the bar happened. How she opened her heart to him - and he forgave her! For every vile act her family inflicted on him. He called her a friend. And then she shamelessly drank deeply on his blood, while holding him in a possessive embrace, embrace he returned!
Bela's fists tightened in shame at the next memory. His forgiveness, friendship and even blood wasn't enough for her insatiable appetite that night. She wanted more. Feeling his hardness for her awakened long-forgotten desires in the woman. She craved more. She needed to have that forgiving, caring and handsome man all to herself. The man who had freed her family two years ago, who had saved her own sisters, who she had roped into their foolhardy quest to save their mother.
Bela almost felt like vomiting in disgust at herself. At how she forced herself upon him. At how she couldn't give less of a fuck that Ethan was a married man, until he said so himself; only reason he even was here was to save his own wife.
Still...he wanted me, too… even intoxicated as I was, his desire was plain in his body...even his eyes… What do I do now? Should I just pretend nothing happened? No… That would not be fair to Ethan.
Clicking her tongue in annoyance at the deeply confusing situation she found herself in, the woman decided to take a quick shower, before heading out for the day. Her human body felt positively filthy, cowered in blood and sweat. After that she would visit Cassandra and then the ship's dining area. Bela was absolutely famished.
Ethan felt somewhat apprehensive as he sat across Cassandra's unconscious form.
This was a woman who showed him nothing but inhuman cruelty, yet now she looked so at peace, Ethan couldn't help but question what made her that way. Was she born like this, eager for the suffering and death of others?
Regardless of her past deeds, she was an ally now, no matter how malicious. They would be weaker as a whole if she perished and Bela… Bela would've been devastated. Despite her callous nature towards others, Cassandra still loved Bela, that was plain to see even to Ethan, and the blonde woman returned the affection completely.
Ethan's contemplation was interrupted by a gentle hand laying down on his shoulder. Even though no words were spoken or glances traded, he immediately knew who the owner of that soft hand was. The events of the night were still fresh in his mind, in fact - that was something he couldn't get out of his mind at all since then.
"You actually came to visit Cassandra… You said you would, but I just didn't expect you to follow up on it... "
Bela's voice was as soft as her touch. Suddenly, as if recalling something unpleasant, she took her hand off. Ethan cursed at himself for immediately craving for her touch once again. What was this woman doing to him?
God, it's like I am in middle school all over again.
Turning around to look at her shape, standing a few steps behind him, the man was stunned by what he saw. Her outfit for today - a pair of simple dark blue jeans, as well as a pristine white blouse. A pair of simple white sneakers were her choice of footwear. For the first time Ethan ever saw, she was also bereft of her ruby choker. A small silver pendant, made in the shape of the sign of House Dimitrescu was hanging down her neck, instead.
Back in the castle, she looked menacing and regal in her dark robed dress and vicious jewelry. When they met on this ship for the first time, she was radiant in her long yellow summer dress. Later yet, she looked like a junior military officer in that utilitarian outfit. Now, for the first time, she looked absolutely casual, and that in itself was unusual and surprised the man enough for him to lose his gift of speech for a few seconds.
Turning his head up to look at her face, the man was intrigued to see her chewing her own bottom lip, as if she was nervous. Her face was pensive. She wasn't meeting his gaze.
Somehow, that sight alone gave Ethan the burst of confidence he desperately needed to overcome the tense silence that settled in the small onboard hospital room.
"Of course I did, Bells. I am a man of my word. And well… regardless of what happened between us before, we are all in this mess together now. Holding on to past grudges wouldn't really help anyone."
The blonde woman slowly sat on the chair next to him. Her gaze was locked onto Cassandra's face as she spoke, barely audibly.
"Again, you simply baffle my mind with your ability to forget and forgive and just ...move forward. I don't think many are capable of such a feat, Ethan." Before he could respond to that, she continued, clearly having a lot on her mind.
"What happened tonight… I wanted to apologize. I was out of line. You gave and gave and I took and took, and yet more I wanted. I don't know what came over me… I would love to blame it all on alcohol and your intoxicating blood, but…"
She suddenly grew quiet and sullen. Ethan wasn't sure how to properly express what he felt with words, himself. He still tried.
"Now, don't rush to heap all the blame on yourself, Bells. You respected my wishes and my marital status, in the end. And...well… let's just say you didn't take anything I wasn't willing to give."
Oh my God. What am I even saying!?
Both of them were slightly flush now and seemingly at a loss for words. Clearing his throat and desperate for a change of topic, Ethan spoke next.
"Cassandra will awaken soon, I am sure of it. That's one strong sister you have there. I doubt anything can keep her down for long."
Bela hummed at that in confirmation, before letting out a mirthless chuckle.
"Stronger than me, for sure. I am not just a horrible elder sister, I am also a disappointment of a daughter, you know?"
Ethan was actually getting annoyed at all that self-hatred that poured out of Bela lately. He realized that it was most likely merely all the feelings and hardships she bottled in for years, not wanting to share her burdens with anyone. Now that the dam was broken, they were all rushing through. Still, he couldn't help but want to defend Bela, even from herself.
"How can you say that Bela? You're ready to take on the world to save your mother. You're ready to die and to kill for Cassandra and Daniela. How can anyone ask for a better sister or daughter?"
Bela's fingers were drumming against her chair's armrests as she spoke, with regret in her voice.
"I am supposed to protect my younger sisters. Does Cassandra's broken form speak much about my ability as a protector to you, Ethan? Don't even answer that. I wasn't talking about our current predicament." Ethan furrowed his brows in confusion. The woman continued, undaunted, her tone growing more confident.
"Did you ever wonder why Cassandra is like this? Cruel and sadistic? It's because of me." That made absolutely no sense to the man. How can Bela being kind and caring could lead to her younger sister being the opposite…
"I was the first daughter my mother welcomed into the family, Ethan. Back then, she worked hard at providing...accommodations to Miranda's numerous subjects. She had to prove her loyalty. Her worthiness as Miranda's own elder daughter. So she took to the grim task with gusto. Mother expected her own first child - me - to provide assistance with managing our guests. She expected me to have a firm and unyielding hand in butchering them, when needed. To make sure none of them even harbored any thoughts of escape. To put mortal terror into their hearts. Mother couldn't disappoint Miranda, and therefore I couldn't disappoint mother."
Ethan just watched her in morbid fascination. She continued, without making a pause.
"But I did. Mother never said so, for I know she loved me despite me never quite meeting her expectations. But one day, when I failed to properly inspire fear and one of the captives escaped, she just looked at me with disappointment so plain in her eyes, she might've spoken the words out loud. From that day, it was Cassandra who became mother's right hand. My sister didn't start craving pain and violence. It was...an acquired taste that took years to properly develop. With every victim tormented, every escapee made to beg for death in front of others, her lust for violence grew."
Bela spoke it all in such a nonchalant, resigned tone, Ethan wasn't sure if she even wanted him to respond in any way. Perhaps she was merely looking for a friendly, non-judgemental ear to pour out things she never told anyone before? Things that gnawed on her heart for years. She looked at him then, locking her sad molten gold orbs with his own. Giving him another mirthless chuckle, she continued her story.
"And Daniela. Poor, innocent Daniela. I failed her too. Do you know what happens to us when we stay too long as a swarm?" She paused, looking at Ethan. The man just shook his head. She had his full attention now.
"We start to lose our sense of self. It is a slow process, but hour by hour, it just leaks away, possibly never to return. Until just a feral, bestial shell that knows only rage and hunger remains." Ethan immediately recalled Daniela's feral grimace, hissing at him as she was prepared to pounce at him. He couldn't suppress a gulp. Bela still talked.
"Out of all three of us, she had the most calamitous 'welcome' into our little family. For months, she could not find the harmony between her two shapes. Oh, how she screamed when the agony of her human flesh would not relent! I can never forget these pained cries..." Bela paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts as she herself vividly recalled these painful days.
"So, to spare herself the torment, she stuck to her swarm shape, instead. For days. Eventually, she grew used to her human body, but her mind was forever scarred by the experience of these long months."
Bela sighed in sadness. Ethan suddenly had a strong urge to comfort her in any way he could.
These girls faced such horror...I never imagined it was that bad for them…
The man inched his chair a bit closer and placed his right hand over her right shoulder, taking her into a gentle embrace. Placing his left hand on her closest knee, Ethan was not surprised when her own dainty hands immediately grabbed it, holding it tightly. After everything she lived through, comfort was the most valuable currency for her, he realized. Bela smiled at him softly, before her face turned grim once again and she continued her terrifying narration.
"Daniela was so cheerful, so loving. All she ever wanted was for everyone to be happy. But sometimes, when feeling particularly famished or threatened, that beast that always lurked just below would emerge. Without warning, the kindest girl you could ever meet would turn into a monster that would like nothing but to tear you apart and devour your flesh. A single maid, bumping into her by accident, was enough to drive her into a murderous rampage. And after that maid was naught but gnawed bones - came the depression, the self-hatred."
"How do you match two personalities like that?" Bela looked at him with questioning eyes, as if expecting an answer. Before he could even say anything, she continued, voice firm.
"You really don't. But we were so desperate to preserve that cheerful spark. Mother and I convinced her that people were happy being murdered and devoured by her. Instead of actually helping her, we abused her still malleable mind. I even went down to the village and found a couple of the most down-on-their luck people I could and offered them a deal: they go and put up a show for Daniela and we would provide for their own families. A few of them even agreed. And so Daniela as you knew her was born. Delusional and callous, but still caring and happy."
Several beats of uncomfortable silence passed.
"We decided to burst the bubble we put her in ourselves only after Miranda was gone. She didn't take it too well. It took her a year to recover her joyful nature. I am still surprised she doesn't hate me now."
She quieted down and just held his hand as she stared straight ahead now. Ethan was completely at a loss for words. He now knew more about the Dimitrescus than he ever thought he would. Their past was as dark as he expected, but it was far more troubled than he could've even begun to guess. Hardly black and white.
Ethan held the woman tighter, with her leaning back into his embrace. He mumbled out, sounding reverent and respectful, as this case was far too complex for him to judge from an outsider's perspective.
"You did what you thought would've been best for your sister and now you question your decision. But that's the thing, with the benefit of hindsight we can question every single move we made in life. Your intention was for her to be happy. I am sure Daniela appreciates that, at least."
Bela hummed as she thought about all that with a pensive look on her face. She leaned closer to him, placing her blonde head on his own shoulder. A small, soft smile was playing on her pink lips. She cooed at him.
"I never expected anyone to accept us for what we are, Ethan. But you just keep surprising me, again and again. Mia is one lucky woman to have someone like you."
That statement evoked conflicting emotions in Ethan, especially with Bela's slender frame leaning against him. Her long hair smelt pleasantly of shampoo. They sat like that for a bit, in companionable silence. Ethan couldn't help but wonder what would have Cassandra done if she woke up right now and saw them like this… Would she turn violent and protective? Or would she just give them a knowing smirk? Before he could think too much about it, he heard growling coming from...Bela's stomach? The woman flushed in embarrassment before noting, meekly.
"Sorry...I am feeling a bit peckish. As delicious and filling your blood was - thanks for agreeing to...provide it like that, by the way, I appreciate it more than you know - it was pretty much the only thing I've had in a while."
Bela moved to stand up and Ethan promptly released her from his embrace. She still held onto his hand tightly, with her own, though. The woman gave him a fond glance before leaning down and kissing the unresponsive brunette's tattooed forehead gently.
"Get better soon Cassi... we miss you."
Even though Ethan couldn't genuinely say that he shared the sentiment, the love Bela held in that gentle gesture and her soft words was undeniable. He felt his own heart touched at the display of sisterly affection. Being a lone child, he felt a bit like a third wheel in this situation, but Bela held on to his hand just the same. She finally let go as she turned towards the exit. He wasn't sure if the woman wanted him to follow him, but her next utterance made that clear.
"Coming, Ethan? I'll understand if you'd want to stay with Cassandra a bit more. You two have quite the experience together, after all."
The giggle that followed put Ethan himself at ease. He was afraid the mood would remain tense and somber, but it seemed like Bela drew comfort and reassurance from the interaction just now. The man was glad that she did.
As he followed her across the corridors of the ship, Ethan finally became uncomfortably aware of how well her casual dress fit her hourglass figure. He couldn't help but admire her well-endowed rear. Her keen amber orbs glancing back at him must have caught the direction of his own eyes, since she grinned in mirth and her hips started swaying a bit more as she walked.
Ethan realized that Bela could be quite playful and seductive, once she opened up. One adjective he never really consciously applied to Bela before was at the forefront of his mind now. Sexy. Long, shapely legs connecting to a slender torso with a moderately-sized, firm-looking chest. Beautiful face, now holding that confident, once again self-assured grin. Intelligent, playful eyes, stealing glances at him every so often. A touch of dark makeup further emphasized her natural beauty, as did her long locks of blonde hair, cascading down her head freely.
Ethan always felt himself lucky for having a pretty woman like Mia settling down with him. But Bela was not merely pretty in his eyes right now. She was drop-dead gorgeous.
The man gave a sigh of relief as they finally got to the luxurious mess hall and he got to gawk at something other than Bela's shapely rear. A mess hall didn't quite do the justice to this vast, richly decorated dining area. Beautiful paintings decorated the walls, rich red tables lined the large, open room and the expensive chandeliers lit it all with soft light. A large number of crewmates were enjoying their well-prepared meals, talking loudly meanwhile. A group of armsen sat by themselves, looking remarkably more grim. They were likely still mourning their own fallen comrades.
Ordering a well-done beef steak with some mashed potatoes, Ethan's jaw almost dropped to the floor as he saw what Bela herself had. Catching his astonished expression, the woman gave him a smirk as she settled her tray on an unoccupied table, filled to the brim with her own rare steak. Sitting across the table with her, the man could only watch in fascination as she started to wolf down her meal. She must have had at least three times as much meat as he did on her tray.
She ate like a well-mannered lady, with a fork and a knife and it was clear that her agile fingers were well-versed in the table etiquette. Yet the speed with which she consumed the meat was barely human. Occasionally she would stop destroying the steak in front of her to take a gulp from a glass of wine. Ethan himself ate slowly, content to observe the unusual sight.
At his, likely rude, continuous staring, the woman gave a small sigh and paused her feast, before looking up at him and saying, softly. Her eyes betrayed her curiosity before her words did.
"What do you think I am, Ethan? Biologically speaking. Feel free to speak your mind, you won't offend me. I am just curious…"
Ethan was flabbergasted at that inquiry. He was thinking about that very query for a while himself, but could hardly come to a definite answer. He meekly tried to toss some of his ideas at her, since she did appear genuinely interested in his opinion.
"That's a rough one, Bells. A swarm of hive-minded blowflies that take the shape of a woman is what I would've said two years ago. But...you feel way too solid for that." The blonde woman giggled softly at that, before nodding for him to continue. "So...a woman who turns into flies, instead, maybe? I just don't know."
She grinned at him widely, showing off her pearly white teeth. At this distance, Ethan could see that her fangs were a bit longer and sharper than a normal human's.
She stretched both of her hands in front of her, almost touching Ethan's face. As if on command, her right hand turned into swarming insects, which still arrayed in the outline of her hand. The little beasts even held her blouse's sleeve up. Ethan couldn't resist the shudder that passed throughout his body. Someone in the dining area let out a gasp of shock but neither Bela or Ethan paid them any mind. She spoke in a playful, but somewhat lecturing tone.
"You're right… and wrong! I am both… and neither!" Her right hand returned to its human shape once again, before she retracted them both to her side. She continued: "In a shocking twist, even I won't be able to tell you for sure, what exactly I am. But I have a theory, something I've been studying for decades now."
The woman paused, her gaze firmly locked on his own. Somehow that last part she spoke turned the gears in Ethan's own mind. He couldn't help but ask the burning question.
"Decades? Forgive me for prying, but… how old are you, exactly, Bells?"
For some reason, Bela was clearly exhilarated by this discussion. Her eyes were wide in mirth and her grin was unrelenting, even as her fingers played along with cutlery, restless. She gave him a mock pout as she answered, in a playfully accusing voice.
"Oh? It's not polite to inquire about a lady's age, Ethan. I expected you to know better… But! Since you asked so nicely, I'll answer anyway! I am sixty four. Turning sixty five in three days."
Ethan was not even shocked. He had an inkling the woman was way older than she appeared to be. Still, he felt like a kid next to her, now. And she had a birthday soon… Would she expect a present now? Clearing his throat, the man tried to speak neutrally. His response turned out somewhat lame, to his chagrin.
"I see… you look really nice for your age...What about your theory, though?"
Bela was almost jumping in her seat as she responded. Ethan could suppress a light blush no longer at her next, flirtatious words. He struggled to comprehend how open she was now, compared to her previous, reserved speech. Was this her true self? Unburdened and unbound, free to enjoy herself?
"Ah! Firstly, let's talk about this beautiful body you're staring at so shamelessly." She winked at him at that. "There are a couple of differences in our human forms, compared to a normal person. The blood that flows through my veins right now is rich in mold particles - which gives us our increased strength and resilience, as well as its distinct black coloration. Although... it does require a...specific temperature range to circulate properly. A bit more narrow than what an average human can handle."
Ethan's eyebrow rose up at that. He was curious about what she meant by that. Did they not like the extreme cold or warmth? Bela was positively giddy with excitement as she spoke next. This clearly was a topic she wanted to discuss with someone, anyone, for a long time.
"Then there are some minor differences in the structure of our digestive tract. While the exquisite taste of human blood is reason enough for us to partake in it, sometimes; the true value comes from how efficiently our bodies can metabolize it! Whenever we need a sudden burst of energy fast, nothing works better than a pint of fresh warm blood for us! We don't actually need it to survive, though. Any normal meat works just as well, in the long term."
The passion with which the vampire girl discussed the perks of consuming human blood was not lost on Ethan, as he found himself simply staring at her in morbid fascination, his own mouth slightly open and eyes wide. The woman clearly loved the dumbfounded look on his face, though.
"Then! Our delightful shapeshifting ability! I bet you wanted to know about that, didn't you? Well, you're in luck today!" She cleared her throat, as she launched further into her lecture, amber eyes alight in almost childish glee.
"What I like to call us: myself, Cassandra and Daniela - chimeric beings. We are both the human and the cadou fly - we have complete DNA of both species, I checked! We do not merely mimic a human body, we assume it completely, down to chemical processes inside the body itself. When we shapeshift, the most accurate term that would describe the change would be, in my opinion - transmute."
She was looking at him intensely, checking if he was following along. Ethan was amazed beyond words at what he already heard. She continued her Dimitrescu biology class, still in that excited tone.
"Naturally, it's not all sunshine and rainbows for us! The transmutation process is extremely energy-intensive. We have to consume a large number of nutrients to recover from shifting our shapes around. That's why I personally prefer to stick to my human form, most of the time. Moreover, any damage any of our forms takes will be carried over to the other, as well. Losing too much of my swarm will be akin to a human losing blood. I would barely notice losing a couple of my dear blowflies, but as the number of casualties grows, I would start to experience comparable side effects - dizziness, weakness, loss of consciousness, even death!"
Seeing his wide brown-gray eyes glued to her own, the woman hummed in satisfaction, as she finished her lecture, sounding a bit flirty at the end.
"Ultimately, with a couple of minor differences, I am both the woman and the swarm. Personally, however, I do prefer to think of myself as the woman first, and the swarm second. Which form do you prefer?"
Ethan didn't need to think twice about that question. He still responded somewhat sheepishly, not wanting to offend her.
"The woman...I guess…"
She giggled cutely at that, before giving him another wink and returning to wolfing down the remains of her red meat, now likely a bit cold. Ethan finished his own meal, his mind overwhelmed at all the information he received today.
At this rate, I'll be an expert in Dimitrescu in no time at all...Is that a good thing?
As they finished their meal in comfortable silence, Bela cleaned her mouth with a napkin, before standing up, Ethan following suit. The woman clicked her tongue in annoyance, before speaking.
"I still have plenty of documents I wanted to look through today. Catch you later?"
A shiver of anticipation ran throughout the man's body at that last part. He nodded and spoke, hiding his own, likely unhealthy, excitement.
"Sure thing Bells. I'm gonna go check up on Rose. By the way..."
He felt like flushing red as her intrigued eyes fell upon his own, once again. Still, he just had to say it.
"You look absolutely fantastic today."
Ethan expected a simple 'thank you' or maybe a beat of uncomfortable silence, but instead he was grabbed in a tight embrace, once again. Nevertheless, he returned the hug gladly, his palms feeling right at home at her back. Her voice was a mere whisper in his ear.
"Thank you Ethan...for everything. I don't know if I ever can, but I will do my best to truly earn the right to be called your friend."
Just as quietly, the man whispered back.
"You already did, Bela…"
Her answer was firm and it brooked no further argument.
"No… I really didn't. But I will, Ethan. You can count on it."
She broke the embrace slowly, but still stood only inches away from him, her eyes locked onto his own in resolute determination. Ethan gazed back, yet he couldn't help but glance down at her full, slightly parted pink lips, so close to him now he could feel her warm breath. They looked so soft, so inviting... It took everything the man had not to taste her right now, right here, consequences be damned.
As he slowly turned away from her instead, he could swear he heard a sigh of disappointment. Weirdly, it didn't sound like it came from Bela herself.
"I'll count on it then. Have a good day, Bells. I think I'll need to catch a nap myself."
"Sweet dreams, Ethan."
Her voice is so lovely…
In his own moderately large cabin now, Ethan observed Rose work on her latest painting. For some reason, the girl was hesitant to show it to the father and would hide it behind her back whenever he approached. Ethan couldn't deny his curiosity, yet he was not going to push it.
Taking off his shoes, the man dropped on his bed, utterly exhausted. Today was a long day. That nightly encounter with Bela. Then all the exploration of the ship he did - learning its twisting corridors almost by heart, out of habit. Then meeting the beautiful woman again, at Cassandra's side. The informative meal taken with her. Recalling the conversations, he couldn't help but feel awful about the three sisters, especially the redhead.
I'll visit Daniela tomorrow. Poor girl needs some comfort, as well. Maybe I can help her in some way...I do know a thing or two about an inner beast, begging to be let loose...
Feeling like drifting off to sleep, the man was interrupted by a soft patter of bare feet on the carpet. Looking up, he saw Rose standing in the doorway, clutching her painting, backside of it facing him. She was looking at him curiously, before switching her gaze to an empty corner of the room for a few moments. Not looking from that corner, she spoke, meekly.
"What's a mooo-ron, daddy?"
Where did she hear that word? I didn't take Tom for a swearing type.
"It's moron, honey. It means a stupid person. Where did you hear that word?"
She finally looked back at him, but her expression was a pensive one, as if she didn't really understand what she was saying herself.
"Evie says you're a moron, daddy. That if you wanted to taste her lips so badly, you should've just went for it. They were this close to you." She showed the distance with her two tiny index fingers. They portrayed the actual distance of the incident they referred to accurately, to the man's utter horror.
Ethan was stunned into complete silence, with sweat starting to bead on his forehead and his features paling. The tiny girl continued, taking an occasional glance at that empty corner, before looking back at him.
"Mommy wouldn't have minded. The more the merrier." The girl spoke the first part as if she was merely repeating someone else's words before looking in his eyes in curiosity and asking normally: "Why would you want to eat someone's lips anyway, daddy? That sounds nasty."
Barraged by questions and nightmarish thoughts, Ethan could gasp out only a single question in return.
"Rosie...honey… who is 'Evie'?"
The girl didn't hesitate as she answered honestly.
"Eveline. But she likes it when I call her Evie. She is right here, daddy, but she says you can't see her because you're stupid and mean. I don't think you're stupid or mean myself, though. I love you daddy."
Ethan felt like his head would implode at this newest development.
This can't be happening… this can't be real… not Her… not inside my baby girl now…
Looking at his precious, innocent angel with horror-filled wide eyes, Ethan mumbled a shaky question.
"I love you too, Rosie… Have you been seeing...Eveline… for a long time?"
The tiny girl pondered for a couple of moments, before nodding and responding.
"I think so...I don't really remember when I saw her first, but she wanted to play a game with me. She is funny and nice. I like her."
"A game…?"
"Uh-huh! She called it: Hide me from the World! It was a really fun game, too, but now she says she doesn't wanna play it anymore. She asked me to show you this."
Rose rotated her picture around, showing a childish but unmistakable frame of someone Ethan never wanted to see again. In this simple drawing, the figure of a small girl, dressed in black was grinning wide at him. The man felt like his heart just stopped beating.
Rosie scrunched up her nose as she spoke next, as if she wasn't liking the words herself, but still felt obliged to relay them.
"Evie says that she doesn't need to hide from you anymore, because you're fucked now and can't hurt her anymore. What's 'fucked', daddy? Why did you want to hurt Evie? She is nice..."
If Jack Baker himself walked into his cabin right this very instant and spoke in his accented tone: "You... better... run... Here's Daddy!" while swinging his shovel, Ethan would've felt more at ease.
What the fuck...
Author's Note:
I don't know how this chapter got so big... I even originally wanted to add another Alcina/Mia segment here, but that would just be too much, for sure.
Anyway, I do hope you've enjoyed my villainous OCs, coz Ethan and friends will be seeing them all quite soon. I didn't want my villains to be faceless goons, so I tried to give them all unique personalities. A burned out handler who just wants to get out. A blood-thirsty merc who is out for money and vengeance. A psycho infantile assassin who is mostly in just for kicks.
Also, I do hope my background for Dimitrescu siblings as well as the biology class was believable and interesting. I did want to humanize them a bit more for a while. How did you like unburdened Bela? :D
I bet nobody saw this particular Eveline scene coming! I was originally planning to bring her back when Ethan was at the brink of death, but then I didn't want to repeat my previous story too much, so I decided to introduce Evie through another character. I felt particularly inspired thinking out this scene. What do you guys think? Did it work out?
Thanks for reading! Always happy to answer any questions you might have!