After the horrifying events that shook the ancient land of the Four Ancient Lords to the core and left Miranda dead, peace has finally fallen down upon it. Dimitrescu, Beneviento, Moreau and Heisenberg - who had all miraculously survived Miranda's downfall - drifted apart, having nothing left that truly tied their fates together after their Mother's passing.

In particular, Lady Alcina and her daughters all had felt that the desolate and depopulated valley they had been calling home for so long had little left to offer them. The three siblings especially craved freedom and warmth - an understandable desire, after more than half a century of being stuck in their cold, dark castle. Unbound from the ancient pacts, the Dimitrescu family soon came to believe that a change in scenery was in order.

At an offer from the Duke, the family decided to settle in a remote, sparsely populated area of Ciego de Ávila province, all the way in distant Cuba.

Apparently, a man who knew a man, who knew a man, who knew Duke was a reclusive millionaire, who had constructed a peculiar manor house here, impressive in its own right. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on who you are, the man had perished from an onset of age-related illness, leaving the manor up for grabs, since he had no relatives or even a written will. The place would become a perfect new home for Lady Dimitrescu and her three beloved daughters.


May 21, 2021 - The Present

On this cloudless, sunny day, It's only been three months since the Dimitrescu family had left behind their ancestral valley. On the beautiful afternoon of that day, Lady Alcina Dimitrescu, the family's unchanging 9.6 foot-tall vampiric matriarch and a loving mother to a trio of chimaeric blowfly/human hybrids, found herself alone in their somewhat isolated manor.

With her three cherished lovebugs departing on their expedition into a nearby town, Alcina had the entire manor to herself.

How she had longed to join her beautiful daughters on their daring journey to explore their new world… Yet the very notion was laughable. While Bela, Cassandra and Daniela could easily pass off as normal humans - if a bit on a pale side, Alcina herself - with her towering frame - would've immediately scrambled the locals into a full-blown routing panic. The Dimitrescu family came here to have a second chance...an attempt at peaceful life after a century of bloodshed. Being branded as rogue B.O.W.s and exterminated by B.S.A.A. would not have been conducive to achieving that goal…

Despite having assured her precious girls that she would be completely fine by herself and insisting that they would have some sisterly bonding time, Alcina could not help herself but let out a sigh of discontentment, now that her lovebugs were gone.

Even though the sisters had departed a mere hour ago, Alcina already found herself missing them dearly. Bela's serene smile and calming tone; Cassandra's biting snark coupled with undying loyalty; Daniela's infectious laugh and resurfaced cheer.

The girls were so different, yet Alcina loved them all with equal fervor. Even more than motherly love, however, they gave her life purpose. Her girls meant the world to her and they were the only reason she kept going after Miranda's downfall.

Merely thinking about her precious lovebugs made the former countess's lips curl into a pleasant smile.

Unfortunately, contentment couldn't last long, not when she was by herself in their large manor. Soon, it was replaced by tedium. Of course, she could spend another day in their blooming garden, or else read a book her beautiful and thoughtful Bela had bought specifically for her beloved mother the other day.

...or perhaps not, since her restless feet had apparently seen fit to bring Lady Dimitrescu to the manor's basement.

Admittedly, Lady Dimitrescu found the basement of their new home a bit unusual. No torture implements lined the walls; no moroaice held their silent vigil; no maidens were being drained dry for Dimitrescu famed wine; no prisoners cried for mercy from their cells - indeed, their new home wasn't even equipped with holding cells!

Nothing but still air and eerie quiet greeted the inhumanly tall woman as she gracefully made her way through the basement space with the mercifully high ceiling. Constantly having to duck in her castle was murder on her back… this house - with its tall doorways and high ceilings - was a welcome improvement in that aspect, in particular.

Even though for the last three months, Alcina had successfully avoided the basement or - more precisely - a certain item that was stored in this area, today the vampiric aristocrat found herself staring right down at an old, dusty chest. Were she a treasure seeker - here to pillage Dimitrescu's famed wealth - she might have felt exhilaration at the prospect of untold riches being potentially held within this ornate chest. Of course, as the actual owner of the object in question, she knew well that it contained no wealth or riches… only mementos of the past… the past that Alcina should've discarded long ago… yet she didn't.

Pulling at a hem of her grey dress in a bid to kneel without soiling the delicate fabric, Alcina proceeded to place a gloved hand upon the time-worn surface of the container.

With tender care, the Dimitrescu matriarch started to sweep the accumulated dust from the old chest. After a few moments, satisfied with her work, the countess reached for her necklace and detached a small key from it - a key that never left her person. Nibbling on her lips, Alcina took a moment to fiddle with the tiny key that looked almost like a toy in her oversized palms.

There was a reason Alcina never wanted her daughters to see the chest's contents. In a way, its very existence made her feel like a dirty cheat, because it contained something that her dear girls could never hope to ever reclaim - the memories of the past.

As she knelt frozen in thought, two conflicting desires battled for dominance in her head.

I should just get rid of it all. Throw it into the ocean and let the waves wash away the past.

But… maybe just a peek wouldn't hurt? One last time…

Letting out a sigh, Alcina slowly inserted the key into the ancient lock. After fighting against the rusty mechanism for a few moments, the key finally turned with a satisfying click.

Tenderly lifting the lid, Alcina felt her face hardening as she beheld the contents. Timeworn items and ancient paraphernalia was there to greet her judging gaze - none of them felt like they still belonged in this day and age… especially after everything the Dimitrescu family with her in charge committed.

Still, Alcina proceeded to pluck a large ring, that nevertheless appeared quite small, clutched in her enormous fingers. Even despite the time, the bronze metal of the ring appeared solid and unrusted, and one could even make a small "D" engraved upon it.

"I wonder if you're happy, father, seeing how the Dimitrescu name has persevered long after your bones have powdered into dust. That's more than you ever dreamed about, isn't it? A heir everlasting, immune to disease and injury alike."

Somehow, her own whisper was enough to drive the countess into violent rage. Taken by overwhelming fury, Alcina proceeded to clench her hand into a tight fist - tight enough to crush the ring into a deformed mess.

"I should've done that a long time ago…"

Mumbling under her breath and letting the now worthless bronze object clutter to the floor, Alcina focused her gaze on the next item inside the chest. Upon seeing a faded photograph, the countess felt her harsh gaze swiftly softening. One could hardly tell any features upon any of the four people depicted in the black & white photograph, but Alcina could recall that particular moment with almost perfect clarity, despite it happening nearly a century ago. One could hardly forget the time they were the happiest, after all...

The memories long buried were quick to rush to the surface of her mind as she focused on this simple, faded photograph.


February 6, 1936

As was the tradition, upon her birthday, the family would take a photograph together.

Turning 22 today, Alcina Dimitrescu, a beautiful young woman who drew more than a passing glance from many men, and even some women, smiled widely at their family's retainer who was operating a Kodak Brownie camera.

The retainer fidgeted for a while, before frowning at the family and meekly offering, "Perhaps the picture would be warmer, if you held each other, my lords and ladies."

A boy to her left grumbled at that, but quickly offered a hand to Alcina, nevertheless.

Clutching his hand, Alcina couldn't help herself but glance at her younger brother - a boy of 16 - while making a cheeky quip.

"Dragomir! Am I truly so horrid that even a mere touch of my hand repulses you so much?"

The boy appeared aghast at the mere suggestion, "Wha..? Of course not, Alci!"

Naturally, Alcina knew this was the case. Dragomir absolutely cherished his older sister and always looked up to her, and in turn, Alcina loved her younger brother unconditionally and would always be eager to lend a helping hand. True, he could be a brat sometimes and nowadays Father was filling his head with all these notions of manly strength and independence - making him sometimes unbearable, but even so - she couldn't have asked for a better sibling.

Upon hearing the affectionate nickname coming from the boy's lips, a large and powerfully-built man with graying hairs but regal stance - who stood on Dragomir's left, let out a chiding scoff. "Come, now, son. You are an heir to this family and a grown man! Leave these childish diminutives and silly affections to peasants and women."

Scolded, Dragomir merely lowered his head and mumbled out, "Forgive me, Father..."

From Alcina's right, a feminine voice one could describe as noble - yet no bereft of warmth - was quick to offer a counterpoint.

"Will you stop chiding our son for his imagined slights, Ivan? In which world can it be wrong to show affection to your own sister? A warm heart is a boon, not a flaw!"

Turning her head around to smile at her beloved mother, Alcina couldn't help but once again admire her long, ebony locks. Still, Alcina wished that her mother would've kept her passions to herself, in this particular case. Father would never shut up now…

"Ah, you and your talk of heart, Cornelia! A large heart is a weakness that invites nothing but disaster! A real man must know how to keep his emotions in check and feelings under lock and key!" With no short amount of annoyance, Alcina glanced towards her father, even as he continued his rant, "But what can I expect from you, woman, sheltered as you are - not knowing the true horrors this world is eager to unleash upon the weak."

But Cornelia would not yield that easily - her own fiery spirit would not let her to - and with a huff, the woman continued the verbal spar, "You're not in Mărăști anymore, my love! Do not let the horrors of the war haunt you forever!" Her eyes narrowed, and she hissed out with particular bitterness, "and don't you dare to let them haunt our son."

Ivan took a step back, as if slapped, before recovering his wit and vehemently retorting, "Don't you dare to speak lightly of that battle! Almost fifteen hundred brave men had perished in Mărăști while you danced and drank at Ferdinand's court! You can't even imagine how it feels to see your comrades turned into swiss cheese by German machine guns or into bloody paste by their accursed artillery!"

"What I can imagine is that it's all in the past. You should let the specter of war finally rest, as the rest of the world did!"

"Bah! The Germans and the Soviets are already growing restless! How foolish you must be to imagine that peace can last!"

"Hardly any more foolish than the man who sees enemies hiding around every corner and lurking in every shadow!"

Having exchanged their insults, Cornelia and Ivan proceeded to just glare at each other balefully, before Dragomir finally broke their staring contest.

"That's enough, Father - this is supposed to be a happy day. Can we not bicker like children on Alcina's birthday?"

Alcina herself could only coo at her younger brother's calm and composed voice, as he delivered an argument that made even the indomitable Ivan Dimitrescu lower his gaze in shame.

"You're right, my son… I have gone too far. But I just want you to know that all I do - I do for you, my family. As my heir, you will lead House Dimitrescu forward one day, and I want you to be prepared for it, Dragomir." Ivan glanced at his daughter and wife, next, while offering a heartfelt apology, "I do apologize for my unbecoming behavior, Cornelia, Alcina. While I wish for nothing more than for you to be right and for me to be wrong, my love, I know that the world is a dark place, and that there are many who would want to see us go down. All I want is for our boy to be ready to step into it."

Cornelia merely sighed, but nodded, "Let us speak of this no more, today, husband. Our daughter deserves to have this day unspoiled by vagaries of the future."

"Indeed…"

Somehow, that was enough to dispel the rising tension and return the smiles to the faces of four Dimitrescu. As they all readjusted their positions so that Ivan and Cornelia stood behind and held each other's hands, while Alcina and Dragomir took the front and mirrored their parents, the camera snapped.

With the retainer working on making several more shots, Alcina couldn't help but consider the fact that perhaps their father was right after all. Despite the fact that she was a mere 22-year old noble, she had seen her own fair share of villainy humanity was capable of.

Even though Father is harsh, I know that he truly loves all of us…

But perhaps not equally, as Alcina knew well that Dragomir was Ivan's favorite - for a good reason, too. After Alcina's condition was diagnosed and their hereditary blood disease found to be strong and active in her, the young woman had firmly refused to even entertain any notions of marriage and having children - for what mother would wish to pass along such a curse to her own offspring? Unlike Ivan's firstborn, however, Dragomir was free of the taint, as the gene responsible for it was completely repressed in him. He was a true heir to House Dimitrescu, despite being a younger child.

Alcina could not fault her father for his favoritism, and honestly - she didn't even care that much. Life was good. Their manor at the outskirts of Bucharest was lavish and breathtaking; their coffers secure and ever growing; and most importantly - her own personal life free of scrutiny.

As the retainer was finishing the photo-session, Alcina already started to anticipate how the rest of this marvelous day would go.

In a couple of hours, she had agreed to meet with her friends at a certain establishment closer to the city center. Father did not know about her involvement with these people, and Alcina liked to keep it that way - which wasn't helped by their growing popularity…

Miss D and the Pallboys… Gosh… why did I let Alexandru convince me that this was a good name?

Still, Alcina was giddy for another performance they would give. Singing has been a passion of hers since she was a little girl, and once she found the outlet - she did not want to let it go. Especially since that passion had turned into something that regularly earned her standing ovations. Every time she and her four friends agreed to get together to perform jazz, Alcina's heart simply fluttered in joyous anticipation and today was no exception.

And after that, there was a Masquerade ball hosted by one of the most esteemed families of Bucharest, and Alcina was invited. Which was hardly a surprise, given her family's wealth and personal beauty, yet the young woman still found herself quite eager to attend. A high-society gathering like that was always an excitement to attend… and perhaps afterwards she could get some private time with a handsome man… or a gorgeous woman.

Dancing on the balls of her feet and licking her lips in anticipation, Alcina let out a genuine, happy smile. She still suffered from her condition and was required to consume a cup of human blood per week to avoid having her body deteriorate, but with their wealth and resources, that was barely an inconvenience.

Life is good.


The Present

Alcina felt tears breaking through at the flood of the memories of her carefree youth. How simple everything had been then, how happy she had been - bereft of responsibilities and free to indulge in the finer things in life.

Of course, the coming years would see a great many things change… some for the worse, some for the better.

Letting the faded photograph rest, Alcina gently plucked a small locket from the chest. With careful motions, the countess proceeded to open the locket, before letting her gaze rest upon its contents - several strands of human hair. Even though the inevitable march of time saw most of the color fade from the strands, she could still easily tell that they came from three different heads. She could still vividly recall that moment, when she had first laid her eyes upon them...


March 13, 1943

Just like Ivan had predicated, the war ravaged Europe once again. For a while, nothing drastic had changed for Dimitrescu, since the war was waged far away from Bucharest and the patriarch had used his former army connections to spare his beloved son from the horrors of such mindless bloodshed.

Of course, the Romanian capital saw remarkably less partying and merrymaking during these years. With the country's economy being slowly but surely brutalized by the attrition - especially with the Germans refusing to provide monetary compensation for Romanian oil, grain, and equipment they demanded - the inflation started to rear its ugly head, affecting even the most affluent of Romanian's elite.

What's worse, Alcina's beloved Pallboys had drifted apart, with some joining the war effort and some seeking opportunities elsewhere. A year ago, Alexandru had offered her to run away with him - to sail to distant America and to start a new life of music and debauchery there. And Alcina was tempted, but the very notion of abandoning her family - flawed as they were - was unthinkable. Alexandru understood it and respected her choice - they've parted on amicable terms, exchanging one last kiss and a heartfelt farewell.

But that was then, and now it seemed like the war was finally encroaching upon Bucharest and its sheltered elite. With the tides turning against the Axis and the Allies pushing hard, Ivan knew that it was just a matter of time until even his family would be threatened. He would not wait until the bombs would fall down upon their city manor, and therefore, a decision has been reached.

The Dimitrescu family would return back to their ancestral lands - far away from violence and conflict.

On their last week in Bucharest, Cornelia - ever prone to her spontaneous flights of fancy - had decided that instead of fully relying on rural peasantry to provide help that their large castle would indubiously require, she would rear her own staff.

Not asking for anyone's permission, the flighty noblewoman proceeded to tour the capital's orphanages, in search of perfect candidates for the job.

And today, Alcina could only stare slack-jawed, as three young girls were brought before her. To be trained from a young age to grow to be the perfect maids for the House Dimitrescu.

Naturally, her mother had wanted a challenge, and therefore all three girls had troubled backgrounds - which the orphanage matron eagerly shared.

The youngest among them, a redheaded girl with sparkling green eyes was a mere nine-year old. She was from a minor noble house, but an accident had seen both their manor and their whole wealth perish in flames. The girl was the only survivor. The horrible experience had left her traumatized and the redhead was diagnosed with an acute case of manic depression. On certain days, she would move around with frenetic speed, like a small ball of uncontainable energy. On other, she would lie in her bed, wallowing in her misery and refusing to get up. On her worst days, she was prone to mutilating herself with whatever sharp objects were available, leaving deep gashes all across her thin arms.

The middle among them, a brunette girl with a particularly sharp gaze, was a ten-year old. This girl was from a poor family, with only her father present throughout her life. Apparently, the man had started teaching her how to hunt and fight from the moment she could walk, but then he was conscripted and eventually perished in the war, leaving the girl an orphan. What troubled Alcina in particular in regards to this girl, however, was her apparent inclination to sadism. More than once the matron would find the girl cruelly pulling on some poor cat's tail, but even that paled in comparison to that one time she had stumbled upon the girl mutilating a rat with a knife.

Finally, the oldest girl among the bunch - an eleven-year old blonde with sad blue eyes came from a middling family. Apparently, this girl was suffering from trauma born from severe neglect, as her bickering parents would never give her any time of the day. Eventually - even before the war - her parents had split, with mother simply vanishing in the night and father left with a child he never wanted. Instead of trying to provide care for the girl, the drunk had callously left her under the orphanage door and was never seen again. The emotional trauma of such an upbringing left the girl mentally scarred, forcing her to develop severe trust issues, as well as a closed-in personality. She would seldom speak to anyone, unless spoken to.

Against all odds, the three girls had befriended each other in the orphanage and rarely left each other's company. A peculiar symbiosis of their relationship was of a particular note. The youngest girl was known to steal food from the passer-bys to fill their bellies after insufficient meals the orphanage provided. The middle girl was notably stronger than her malnourished frame would suggest, and after brutally beating down several older orphan boys who attempted to bully the three girls for food, the trio was left alone. The elder girl - despite her asocial nature - was apparently a quick study, as she taught herself how to read from finding several worn study books, and then proceeded to teach the younger girls.

And on this day, Alcina found herself staring down upon the trio of troubled girls which would require no shortage of effort, patience, and even love to rear into responsible and well-adjusted adults. The Redhead stared at her back with curiosity in her emerald orbs; the Brunette with guarded mistrust and alertness and the Blonde avoided her gaze altogether.

"Come now, girls, you will be well-fed and have a solid roof under your heads!" Cornelia tried to break the uncomfortable silence with her characteristically energetic speech, "With my own daughter's help, you will learn the trade and how to be proper ladies, and upon reaching legal age, you will be free to go and pursue your own interest, or else stay and become full-time maids for House Dimitrescu. Surely that beats staying in your run-down orphanage only to enter the world unprepared? What do you say?"

The trio of girls exchanged unsure glances, before the elder one whispered something in the younger ones' ears. After a few seconds, both the Redhead and the Brunette gave a tentative nod and after that, the Blonde one finally met Alcina's and Cornelia's gazes and mumbled out a meek acceptance.

"We… agree. Thank you for your generous offer, my Lady."


Spring of 1943

The time has passed swiftly after the Dimitrescu family, the trio of young girls and the remaining regular staff that had agreed to a transfer, relocated to the ancestral Dimitrescu Castle - in a remote and isolated province of Romania.

Like Ivan had expected, the castle stood strong, but the lack of maintenance was telling as it was hardly ready to accept its returning masters. What was surprising, however, was the assistance the locals had provided in returning it to habitable standards.

The villagers, who had apparently forsaken Christianity in favor of some kind of local pagan faith, eagerly welcomed the returning Dimitrescu and offered no shortage of help. Miranda, the local community leader, in particular, was beyond merely helpful and soon the Dimitrescu Castle was once again a warm abode and a secure fortress for those who called it home.

Of course, nothing was ever truly free, and after the Dimitrescu family had firmly settled in, Miranda had invited herself for a lengthy and apparently quite heated talk with the patriarch. While Alcina herself had no idea what exactly the duo had talked about - at least not back then - Ivan had progressively grown more and more agitated at the blonde woman and eventually had her dismissed from the castle grounds, while prohibiting her return. As she departed, Miranda merely smirked, but Alcina could not miss a judging gaze that was directed at her, in particular. It was clear to the young woman that whatever agreement Miranda had failed to reach with Ivan, would be repeated with her - in due time…

Nevertheless, the next decade was spent in relative prosperity and genuine joy for the inhabitants of Castle Dimitrescu. Ivan and Cornelia had eagerly restarted their wine-making business, which quickly grew large enough to support the family's lifestyle and fill their near-depleted coffers. Dragomir would spend much time learning the ways of the family and in between his duties as the heir would often sneak to visit a sweetheart that lived in a town some way away from the valley.

Alcina herself would spend a great deal of time with the three young girls that would soon grow to become beautiful and well-adjusted women. Alcina would teach them everything - from the ways of the Romanian aristocracy, to household etiquette, to dancing and singing. And amazingly to Alcina - just like Cornelia had hoped - genuine affection and gentle treatment was enough for these girls to leave their troubled pasts behind and to change for the better.

The Redhead, while still occasionally suffering from her condition, would find the shifts to be much smoother and remarkably less disruptive to her overall cycle. The youngest maid soon became the unofficial heart of the castle, with her joyous laughter and good-natured pranks lifting everyone's mood - even Ivan's.

The Brunette, while still showing her mean streak on several occasions and enjoying others' pain a bit too much, became the loyal and steadfast companion to Alcina herself. Whenever some drunk from the village would come to cause trouble, the girl - who had grown to be quite tall and intimidating woman - would be there to solve the problem - whether with a couple of menacing words, or her deceptively strong fists.

The Blonde, apparently starved for education, in her free time, was often found engorging herself on literature in the library. The girl clearly had a particular affinity for numbers and before long, she had become Ivan's prime advisor and would often recommend an optimal adjustment that would see their wine-making business prosper and flourish. Slowly but surely, the girl was leaving her shell of mistrust and growing into an assertive woman - way on her way to become a head of their whole staff.

But more than mere servants to the family, Alcina had come to see the trio of girls as an extension of it. She would often find herself simply relaxing in their company, as they partook in tea or wine, while making casual and pleasant conversations.

On occasion, they would even make a performance that was not unlike the ones given by the Pallboys - with Alcina singing and the girls playing the instruments. Such joyous activity would quickly get their whole household together - both the servants and the family members, and they would simply enjoy the heartfelt performance. Dragomir and Cornelia would gaze with open mouths - awe-struck and even normally harsh and stoic Ivan would show a rare but genuine smile.

Indeed, the three girls were treated almost as equals and would even be invited to share the master's table during celebrations. At Alcina's 40th birthday, the three young women offered a gift - a locket containing strands of their hair for both Alcina and Cornelia - as a sign of their gratitude, for everything the family had done for them.

Even despite Alcina's conditions growing progressively worse - now requiring the woman to drink an entire litre of human blood per week to stay relatively healthy and mostly pain-free, these were still the good years of her life. They couldn't last...


September 18, 1954

After Alcina's 40th birthday, everything had gone south.

The calamity struck suddenly and without warning. Dragomir Dimitrescu's still body was returned to his father.

Apparently, the Dimitrescu heir was visiting the neighboring town - where his lowborn lover had lived. Despite Ivan's ire, the younger man was fully committed to proposing marriage soon. Unfortunately, he did not get the chance to do so.

The last remnants of Soviet occupational forces were finally leaving the war-torn country. The military men decided to celebrate the occasion by drinking till they passed out. Dragomir's lover, a woman of remarkable beauty, who also happened to work as a waitress in the ill-fated establishment, caught their eye and the soldiers took turns at violating her, as well as the rest of female help and even some passer-bys.

Nobody dared to oppose the drunk and armed communists, nobody but Dragomir - who would never be able to call himself a man again if he just stood by and watched how some brutes were having their way with the woman he loved.

One man with just a pistol, against ten professional soldiers armed with automatic weaponry... the resolution of this conflict was predetermined.

The blow of having his beloved son slain by the communists was not something Ivan could take. On this day, alongside Dragomir Dimitrescu, the harsh but loving father had died, as well - leaving only a bitter and hateful shell behind.

With the heir dead, the very survival of House Dimitrescu was put on the line. Having no alternative, the pressure was put on Alcina to marry and produce a viable heir. A month later, a meeting with several prospective candidates soon took place, with one suitor rising above the rest - Victor Roşu.

The man was of high repute, with much wealth behind him, if rumors were to be believed. Moreover, Victor claimed that his noble lineage could be traced all the way back to famous House Dragoș - with papers to prove it. Finally, the man possessed undeniable charisma paired with objectively handsome looks. Both Ivan and Cornelia were taken by his passionate speeches that promised nothing but glory and resurrection of both of their houses.

Unsurprisingly, a marriage was soon arranged - to take place in 6 months - in April, and as much as Alcina loathed the very concept, she could not outright refuse it. She would not be the one who compounded their tragedy with dishonor and eventual oblivion.

But not even these foreboding 6 months were spent in peace and mutual support. The imminent marriage turned out to not be enough for grief-stricken Dimitrescu patriarch. Not only Ivan's previously enviable health started to rapidly deteriorate, but his own genetic disease - whether activated by grief or advanced age - awoke from dormancy, causing the man intense, unyielding agony. Not even blood helped. Only hard alcohol could offer a moment of respite.

And then came the accusations, the hatred, the beatings. Cornelia was fully blamed for spoiling Dragomir - for allowing him to grow up as a man who let his feelings dictate his actions. More than that even, she was blamed for failing to produce more than one viable heir - despite their best efforts to do so. Unfortunately, despite his growing illness, Ivan still possessed strength far beyond the norm for his years, allowing him to inflict untold suffering on anyone who would draw his ire - including more than just his now-hated wife.

These days, any servant who would make a mistake while in Ivan's feared presence would suffer terribly for it. Even a slight misstep was eagerly punished by the heavy-handed Lord. Not even the three girls that were akin to family were immune to his heated retaliations.

Unable to handle the violence and harassment, most of their original staff had departed to seek employment back in Bucharest, leaving just the overly-pious local help and the trio of ever-devout girls.


March 27, 1954

On this overcast day when even the skies implied that God was most unhappy with his errant creations, Ivan had gone too far. In his agony-induced delirium, a minor accounting mistake made by the Blonde maid was enough to drive him into a frenzied fury that saw the poor girl beaten within an inch of her life.

Upon seeing her state, Alcina knew that this could go no longer and immediately went to confront her father - only to receive a savage beating of her own. But even seeing his once-beloved daughter bloodied and on her knees was not enough to satiate the brutal beast Ivan had become. With feral eyes and unkempt hair, the Dimitrescu patriarch dragged his child all the way to the family dungeons - unused in centuries. Without any fanfare, his progeny was shoved into an unlit cell, and locked - like a common thief or a scoundrel. The sentence for her defiance was simple - to await her own marriage in that dirty cell.

At the vile treatment of her beloved daughter, Cornelia has had enough. The next infusion of blood Ivan received was mixed with lethal poison - courtesy of his vengeful wife.

Mere hours later, completely overtaken by madness, on his deathbed, Ivan cursed both Cornelia and her daughter - calling them monsters for their treachery and damning them to an eternity of suffering.

The horror of his insanity-twisted grimace as well as his last breath used to condemn Cornelia was simply too much - she knew that she could go on no longer. Having committed the unforgivable act of mariticide, the Dimitrescu matriarch proceeded to climb the highest tower of their castle, before taking the plunge.

Freed from her cell by the Brunette maid on that very night, Alcina suddenly found herself the last Dimitrescu. Not even half a year it took to utterly destroy her flawed but loving family. The trio of girls were as shaken as she was herself at the tragic outcome for Cornelia, who showed nothing but compassion, patience and generosity towards them all. The four of them had only each to find comfort in now.


Present

Alcina found herself crying freely from both grief and rage at this memory. Anyone who would've dared to lay a hand on her precious Bela now would be treated to a serving of her nail-blades - that would ensure an excruciatingly slow and painful demise.

But even that atrocity paled in comparison to what came next… the marriage… her so-called husband. Even in this chest of ancient memories there was nothing from that man. She made sure to utterly obliterate anything that would even remotely point to that vile filth. Only a single object was left behind that was at all related to him - an agent of his demise - an old, rendered inoperable by time, Luger P08 pistol.

As she clutched the pistol that appeared as a mere child's toy in her oversized hands and with the benefit of hindsight, Alcina found the fact of his swift demise to be particularly offensive - how she wished to have prolonged his suffering now.

But of course, those wishes were foolish, as the past was immutable… Regardless, even without any items to remind her of him, she remembered it all vividly, as if it happened yesterday - the torment of these years as well as their bloody resolution could never be forgotten. In this particular aspect, she was almost envious of her precious lovebugs, who knew nothing of their past life… nor of their deaths.


April 30, 1954

Despite every calamity that struck the Dimitrescu family, the wedding proceeded as planned. As the sole survivor of her family, Alcina found the weight of responsibility crushing. Knowing that she wasn't getting any younger, and hoping against hope that her husband would turn out to be a decent man, Alcina was resolute in her desire to continue the bloodline.

Surprising everyone, Miranda - or 'Mother' Miranda, as she was known these days offered to preside over their imminent marriage. Alcina herself was appalled by the idea of a pagan ceremony, yet her fiancé found the peculiar idea to be endearing in the extreme, for some reason.

And so, on the last day of April, they held the ceremony inside the small chapel that was annexed to their castle. The crowd that attended the event was a small one - her castle's pagan staff, some of the wealthier villagers and a couple of Victor's relatives - who didn't really look much like him, but Alcina didn't pay that any mind. Finally, there were a pair of officials - coming all the way from Bucharest - to give their union legitimacy.

Despite everything, Alcina felt genuine joy on that sunny day, as not only the local decorations - put up by villagers - were charming in their rural simplicity; but the weather was breathtaking; her husband indubiously handsome and her lovely trio of devout maids absolutely radiant in their own dresses. Last but not least, the sex that followed didn't disappoint.

The atmosphere of recovery and apparently bright future lasted for almost a full week after the ceremony, with everyone in their castle adopting high spirits - including Victor himself, who had moved in immediately after the marriage.

It did not last much longer than that.

The Blonde maid, who was now a full-fledged Grand-Chambermaid, in addition to her book-keeping activities, approached Alcina with an issue of some importance.

Apparently, funds were being siphoned from their bank account - withdrawn using Alcina's name and seal. Naturally, Alcina was both horrified and unnerved by this most unwelcome development and bid her most trusted servant to investigate it further. And so she did.

The eventual revelations that took two weeks to obtain and which included a paid detective and no short amount of coin spent revealed the culprit as Victor Roşu himself. Moreover, digging deeper - they found the whole identity a sham. The man had not a speck of noble blood coursing through his veins, no manors to his name, no wealth behind him - only endless debts, incurred by his insatiable addiction to gambling.

Everything Victor Roşu was - was a carefully constructed fake, crafted for a singular purpose - to lure Dimitrescu in - and they swallowed it all - hook, line and sinker.

Aghast at the soul-crushing revelation, Alcina, with her headmaid behind her, immediately rushed to confront the villainous rogue, only for him to laugh in their faces.

"Why, my dearest wife, this paper here shows that everything we have is mutually owned now. Are you sure divorce is what you want? We both know that neither the law nor tradition favors your situation, right now…"

Dangling their marriage contract in her face, Victor continued to laugh and gloat, making Alcina go red in the face from rage and embarrassment. More than that, Alcina realized that even if she could wrest her wealth from him through legal means, the humiliation of having fallen prey to such a vile trick would forever label the House Dimitrescu as a house of fools and simpletons, dooming not only their bloodline, but their reputation, as well.

Alcina was tempted to ask the Brunette maid for help in this particular situation. To simply have this vile man disappear - but he had beat her to a punch.

"And don't you even think about siccing your brute of a maid on me - I have friends in high places you know, and there are plenty to investigate the Dimitrescu for. The unprovoked assault on the Soviets in September, the mysterious death of Ivan in March… Do you really want to add my death to the list of the crimes committed by your murderous family?"

Alcina could only grit her teeth and clench her fists. This slimy scoundrel had outplayed her completely. Without any further words, the Dimitrescu matriarch stomped outside of her own office, with the Blonde headmaid following behind - even as she glared daggers at Victor.

As loathsome as Victor was, the next three years had passed in relatively bearable coexistence. With how large the castle was, they would rarely meet and so, Alcina had simply allowed that slime of a man to continue draining their coffers dry. For the most part, Victor was content to leave Dimitrescu to her own devices and to his credit - kept his hands to himself.

Instead of harassing her dear maids like she was afraid he would be prone to, the man ventured into the village's tavern or further yet - into the neighboring town's brothel to satiate his manly needs.

And so, despite the atmosphere of mistrust and mutual loathing that permeated the castle, life continued. Alcina would still be able to find joy in the company of her delightful girls, who were almost akin to her own children now.


May 21, 1957

Everything changed for the worse when Victor discovered the fact that this isolated valley was home to untold riches, with many ancient treasures kept in its nooks and crannies. That's when his so-called 'colleagues' had shown up on their doorstep.

The brutish, uncouth men stomped in as if they owned the place, trailing mud and dirt all over her expensive carpet. With complete disregard for anyone or anything else, the trio of ruffians made Alcina's Grand Hall as their own favorite spot, from where they would launch their ridiculous 'treasure hunts' - rarely would they be able to actually get their grubby hands on anything worthwhile, however. The ancient valley kept its treasures well-hidden, after all.

For several horrid months it would go on like that - only getting worse as the scoundrels would now invite local whores, as well. And worse yet, as the vile brutes eventually grew dissatisfied with their meager spoils and attempted to drown their sorrows in ever-increasing quantities of alcohol.


December 31, 1957

The months of abject misery had dragged on and on, getting worse and worse, as two more ruffians joined the original trio, now bringing the amount of people Alcina wanted dead to six.

Never feeling safe again in her own home, Alcina made sure to keep her treasured girls far away from the Grand Hall, that was more akin to a pigsty these days, at all times. At night, she would always join them in the servant quarters, with a concealed pistol behind her own pillow.

As much as she distrusted this seemingly unaging, so-called Mother Miranda, Alcina started to seriously consider the possibility of asking her for aid - even if she fully expected that the price would be high, indeed.

On this New Year night, the Dimitrescu matriarch had made a resolution.

Tomorrow, I'll go down into the village and ask her to do something… Surely she will be able to round up some peasants to drive these scoundrels out… I'll pay any price she'll ask - anything - to keep my lovely girls safe.

Placing a tender kiss on each of the girls' foreheads - which they all eagerly returned with a chaste kiss on her cheek, Alcina was about to retire for the night, when Victor came knocking.

"Hello, wife."

The stink of alcohol was palpable as the vile man slurred out a greeting. Not wasting a second, the Brunette maid immediately leapt from her bed, assuming an aggressive stance, all but hissing at the offending man. Alcina had to place a calming hand on the young woman's shoulder to keep her from attacking the scumbag there and then.

"Whoa, there! Keep your attack dog on a leash, will ya?" Victor had nothing but cruel amusement on his face, as he waved Brunette away. The man was clearly drunk, yet he spoke with a surprising amount of clarity in his voice, intriguing Alcina, "I know you hate having me and my pals around here, and truth to be told, we are kinda sick of this shitty place ourselves. How about we renegotiate our contract, huh?"

At this point, Alcina was ready to do pretty much anything to get these ruffians to leave. If she also got rid of Victor in the process… Well, that sounded almost too good to be true to the desperate matriarch.

Clutching her Luger P08 pistol behind her nightgown, Alcina followed the man to her former office, "I am listening…"

Instead of talking, however, Victor took his sweet time ogling her ample bosom - utterly shameless. While Alcina never considered herself particularly prone to violent ways, at that moment she had to mentally restrain herself from filling this bastard with lead.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the vile man mumbled out an offer, if one could call it that way. "Two things… first - half of what you still have in your accounts."

Alcina could only grit her teeth, as this horrid wretch had been draining them dry for the last three years, and now, he had the indignity to demand even more. But if that meant making that scumbag and his deadbeat friends leave…

"Curse you, Victor…What is the second thing?"

Hissing out her agreement and voicing the question, Alcina was not prepared for the man to suddenly be upon her. As his intoxicated breath assaulted her nostrils and his slurred words - her earbuds - the man's rough hands started to shamelessly roam all across her body, evoking nothing but disgust from the woman.

"I want… you, my dear wife. You enjoyed it on our wedding night, have you not?"

Victor proceeded to unceremoniously slam his lips all over her own, before moving downwards, to assail her neck; all the while, his grubby hands were fondling her rear, making a shudder of pure loathing radiate throughout Alcina's frame.

"As good as the local whores are - especially at your expense - who could hope to challenge these curves? You sure took a lot after your dear mommy…"

"You bastard… unhand me this instant!" hissed out Alcina, as the vile ruffian started to pull her nightgown down. Victor merely continued with his ministrations of her neck, before moving his hands to fondle her chest. At his depraved voice, Alcina could not help but shiver in pure hatred.

"Come now, my dear… give yourself to me freely, and we will put an amicable end to our loving relationship - to our mutual benefit."

Alcina had to resist spluttering out a disbelieving gasp at the sheer arrogance of this despicable worm. Truly, the vile nature of this horrid man knew no bounds… Still… if that meant finally being free of him and his cohorts, to finally regain her home where she and her beloved girls could feel happy and safe, once again...

Inconspicuously placing her pistol on a nearby shelf, Alcina did not resist any further. Not when the drunken filth took her nightgown off, or when his teeth dragged her underwear down. Not when his rough hands had their way with her body, not even when his length was inside of her. As Victor eagerly worked himself closer to an orgasm, Alcina merely lay on the cold floor, unmoving and unblinking - only wishing for this horror to finally end.

When he finally came and pumped her full of his vile seed, Alcina knew that she would never feel clean again; that her own body was forever tainted. Still, despite such grim thoughts, she felt a tinge of relief as well. Perhaps, this waking nightmare would be finally over and she and her girls would finally go on a road to recovery. A new chapter in their lives...

A piercing shriek, coming from the direction of the servant's quarters, was quick to dispel any such positive notions. The voice of the person in distress was unmistakable, sending chills of raw panic down Alcina's spine.

Upon seeing her horrified expression, Victor was quick to provide an explanation, in his typical cocky and self-assured tone, "Ah, my boys wanted to have some fun as well… say what you will about your favorite maids, but you sure know how to pick 'em."

The mind-boggling realization filled Alcina's mind with horror the likes of which she had never known. More than that, however, it filled her muscles with the strength she never expected her frail body to possess.

In a single, deft motion, the countess grabbed a glass bottle that lay nearby and smashed it against the side of Victor's head. The man cried out in pain, allowing Alcina to push him off her. Not letting this lowest life-form on Earth to recover, Alcina scrambled back to her feet, before frantically searching for the one item that could offer salvation - the pistol she hid on a shelf.

And there it was - right between several accounting books - with its safety off and the clip full. Hearing the vile man finding his own footing behind her, Alcina only had time to grab the gun before the man was once again, upon her, cursing her with his slurred mumbling all the while.

"You bitch! You'll pay for that! You're gonna watch as my boys take turns with your little whores!"

Whatever other threats Victor indubiously had died on his lips the moment Alcina turned around and shoved her Luger right into his mouth. The domineering arrogance and hazy lust was quick to leave his eyes - which widened in clear fright, instead.

"Mhmh! MHHMFFFH!"

The man tried to mumble something, yet it was hard to speak while having a gun barrel shoved far enough down one's throat that the cold metal touched the back wall. Alcina thought he mentioned something about his friends in high places, but honestly, she couldn't care less about them and the consequences of this act at the moment.

She had cowed before this man enough. No more.

Overtaken by cold determination, Alcina nudged the gun upwards and ignoring any muffled pleadings, squeezed the trigger.

The following bang was somewhat muffled by the fact that the gun was so deep in Victor's mouth when it discharged, yet it still shook Alcina to her core. There was no exit wound, presumably because the small-caliber bullet got stuck somewhere in his skull, yet the man proceeded to unceremoniously tumble to the floor - clearly dead.

The shock of having taken her first life passed quickly, however, as Alcina was egged on by her desire to see her precious girls safe. If these vile scoundrels touched one hair on her girls' heads - she would kill all of Victor's colleagues, consequences be damned.

Stark naked, the last Dimitrescu marched right back towards the servant's quarters, only to discover an atrocity even more horrible than she could've imagined in her worst nightmares.

As she stood in the doorway, the whole world froze for a moment, allowing Alcina to fully take in this grisly scene - forever cementing it in her memory.

All five of Victor's thugs were inside the room, with only three of her beloved girls sharing the space - no other servant was in sight. Alcina briefly pondered where the rest of her extensive but entirely-local staff had gone, but ultimately, that thought gave way to a much more pressing concern.

One of thugs lay dead on the floor - his throat cleanly cut by a sharp object - likely the Brunette maid's little shiv that she always carried on her person.

But the horrid brute was only one out of four casualties in this bedroom. All three of her beloved girls lay dead in various states of undress and with clear signs of violence marring their once-pristine bodies.

The Redhead, on her bed, was choked to death, if an angry blue handprint around her throat was any indication. She would never brighten Alcina's mood with her joyous laughter or innocent jests again.

The Brunette, sitting in a corner, had a number of fresh knife stabs mutilating her chest, showing that she had put up a fight, since another thug was nursing his badly-wounded arm. She would never showcase her loyalty and devotion to the house that took her in again.

The Blonde, near a vanity, had her neck twisted at an unnatural angle, implying that she was roughly slammed against the piece of furniture, with her vertebra not being able to resist the overwhelming force. She would never advise the countess again.

Alcina was too late to save them. Her beautiful, beloved girls, who she had seen grow from forsaken orphans, to gorgeous and regal ladies. They were gone, forever.

All because of these horrid men. These vile, degenerate males. These… atrocious, unworthy, filthy man-things.

Alcina's lower lip, which was trembling in fright and horror, suddenly ceased all motion after morphing into a thin line. Her previously shaky hands achieved a remarkable level of stillness, as they brought the gun up. The panic-induced haze was replaced by an ice-cold clarity of mind and purpose.

One of the thugs, as if feeling something amiss, turned around to gaze at her.

Bang

He dropped dead, with a hole right between his eyes. Ivan would've been proud of Alcina's marksmanship abilities in this moment, were he alive and lucid. The three remaining thugs launched to their feet at the violent discharge of a weapon, but before they could even turn around, with a deafening Bang, another of their number gained an extra breathing hole right in the side of his head.

The final two thugs rushed Alcina, dirty and bloodied knives at the ready.

Bang, Bang, Bang

Three shots, center-mass and the left one tumbled to the floor.

The right one was upon her and his knife glinted in moonlight in the same moment as Alcina depressed the trigger, one more time - striking the last man right in his heart.

With an expression of disbelief frozen on his face, the brute tumbled to the floor - his oxygen-deprived brain not long for this world.

Hearing only a rush of blood in her eardrums as her heart pumped at a frenetic pace, Alcina stood frozen for two full minutes, waiting for any signs of motion to completely cease within the room, before letting the pistol clutter to the floor. The final revelation was enough to sap all strength from her muscles and all fight from her mind.

They were dead. They were all dead. Not just Victor's worthless thugs, but her precious girls, as well. Her whole family was dead.

Alcina was all alone, in this dark, cold world.

As she fell on her knees, she noted, with some detachment, that blood was trailing freely down on the floor underneath her. Glancing downwards, with a remarkable lack of interest, Alcina discovered the thug's blade stuck deep inside her abdomen.

The rational part of her mind was yelling at her that such a wound would prove lethal swiftly, if untreated, but it was hopelessly muffled by the rapidly growing apathy.

Feeling nothing but lethargy, Alcina proceeded to lie down on the bloody floor and to simply stare at the full moon that was visible through the cloudless sky and the open window.

To her surprise, a particularly large and black raven fluttered to sit at the window sill. The bird appeared to regard the prone countess with an interest, as its beady eyes betrayed its intellect. The raven let loose a piercing caw, before fluttering away, making Alcina let out a small scoff herself.

Feeling tired like never before, the last Dimitrescu proceeded to gently shut her exhausted eyes, fully realizing that she would likely never open them again. That was fine with her - there was nothing left for her on this sinful earth, anyway. Everything was taken.

"Your father had dismissed me and my offer, almost fifteen years ago. I wonder if you'll repeat his mistake…"

The suddenness of a condescending feminine voice, piercing the veil of the night, was enough for Alcina to flutter her eyes open once again, even if she lacked the strength to turn to gaze at the source of the voice. Not that she needed to, to know who the speaker was.

"Miranda."

"Indeed, my child. A little bird told me that you are in need of help, and so I arrived. All I ask is your loyalty and devotion, and you will have my aid."

Alcina merely let out a scoff. What good was her own life, when everyone she cared about was dead. As if reading her thoughts, Miranda continued speaking, in that even and considerate, if a tad arrogant tone, "The three maids you appear to cherish so much - I could bring them back, as well. All you have to do is accept my offer… and my gift."

The last Dimitrescu felt breath being caught in her throat at that very notion. While she had suspected that Miranda was someone not to be trifled with, the idea that she could bring even the dead back to live was staggering. How old this seemingly unaging person truly was? What kind of unnatural power this eerie woman possessed? Would she be making a deal with the devil itself? It didn't matter… if there was even a chance to bring back her beloved girls… she would take it.

With her rapidly fading body, Alcina had to struggle to let out the words that would change everything.

"I... accept your... gift... Mother... Miranda..."


March 1, 1958

Miranda's gift turned out to be more than a simple wrapped present. It was a horrible, unnatural parasite that burrowed deep inside the countess, before taking root. It was a gamble - Miranda even said as much from the start - most 'subjects' would be rejected by the sentient and exceptionally selective organism and turned into barely intelligent werewolf-like abominations - lycans, or even perish outright.

For better or worse, that was not to be the last Dimitrescu's fate, however. Against all odds, the parasite - the Cadou, as Miranda had called it - had accepted Alcina as its host. The agony of having every single cell in her body shifting in accordance with some unknowable design made her wish it didn't. For almost two month, she was held in a prisoner's cell in some crypt that was converted into Miranda's laboratory.

After the implantation stage, the 5.6 feet tall Alcina was unceremoniously tossed inside the dingy, moss-covered cell.

Two months of nothing but excruciating pain and mind-numbing delirium as her body adjusted to its new companion… Two months of being in limbo - stuck in between overwhelming darkness that fought to claim her and the light of awareness that sought to elude her.

She chose the light.

Today, having awakened from what felt like an infinite nightmare, she emerged from that cell, having to dunk, lest she would hit her head against the ceiling. Even Miranda herself appeared to be taken back by the sheer size her creation now possessed.

Towering at more than 9 feet in length, Alcina never felt as powerful as today. More than that, she felt good… exceptional, even. Gone were her migraines, or the cramps in her feeble muscles - replaced by a sense of invulnerability and inhuman strength. She felt like she could bend steel with her bare hands. Out of idle curiosity, the countess returned back to the rickety bars of her cell, and gave one of them an experimental tug. Even from her half-hearted pull, the rusted metal visibly warped.

Turning around to gaze at the tiny shape of Miranda in her white lab coat, Alcina had to suppress a shiver from the intensity of the gaze the priestess was giving her. Despite Miranda's pathetic stature in comparison to her new towering form, something told Alcina that the enigmatic woman was the stronger out of the two of them - by far.

There was a careful, calculating spark in Miranda's eyes as she beheld Alcina's colossal shape and seemingly immense power. She was judging her, that much was clear, but the last Dimitrescu had no idea what for, exactly.

Regardless, the disappointment in Miranda's gaze was palpable the moment Alcina suddenly collapsed on the floor, while weakly gasping out, "Blood… I need blood…"

The cause was unmistakable to Alcina, after all, - she had lived with this condition for her whole life. Her genetic blood disease did not go away with this transformation - indeed, it seemed to affect her with even greater intensity now, actually bringing her down to her knees. She felt her whole body starting to shudder, as uncontrollable, volatile changes were begging to be let loose.

Miranda just scoffed, as she approached a small journal. Reading through it carefully, Alcina realized that the priestess likely scoured her medical history.

"Interesting…"

The priestess' murmur preceded Alcina's form mutating, expanding even further and taking truly monstrous shapes. In mere minutes, she had started to turn into something that was not even close to human - with wings, claws and scales protruding from her elongating bone structure. The pain was unbearable, as she growled out, in an inhuman voice.

"I need... fresh... blood…Please..."

Finally closing her journal and reacting to Alcina's pleading, Miranda yelled into the corridor, "Mihai! I have a need of you!"

A villager man of average build promptly rushed in as his master called. The man gasped in terrified fright as he beheld the rapidly mutating and uncontrollably growing form of Alcina.

"Mother Miran…" Mihai didn't get to finish, as Miranda callously tore his heart out with her ornately clawed fingers. Even through the veil of excruciating agony, Alcina felt terror grip her own heart at the cold-blooded execution. Miranda only scoffed again, before pushing Mihai's body - causing it to fall next to Alcina.

"Feast, my child."

And Alcina obeyed. Despite normally having her blood infusion taken through a careful mix with tea or wine, now, the last Dimitrescu had no restraints. Her savagely mutated body demanded the vital fluid immediately, and so, like a feral beast, she pounced upon Mihai's corpse, tearing him apart with her enormous, sharp teeth as she greedily engorged on both his flesh and blood. To her horror, it tasted good.

Mere minutes later, there were little more than gnawed bones left, as Alcina, in her famished state, picked the man's corpse clean for all it was worth. The suffering relented soon, and Alcina felt the volatile mutations that had overtaken her body slowing down...before stopping completely. Feeling exhausted, the countess promptly lost consciousness.


March 3, 1958

When Alcina woke up next, to her shock, she found her body having reverted back to its humanoid, if colossal shape. Gone were the claws, the scales and the wings, leaving only an enlarged human behind.

More than that, Alcina was surprised to find herself back in her chambers in the castle, even though her bed was now terribly undersized for her newfound bulk. Glancing around, countess found herself glaring at a large raven, who was perching on her window sill. Just like before, the intelligent bird proceeded to let out a piercing caw, before departing into the night.

And just like before, not a minute passed before Miranda walked in, now dressed in her regal priestly garb, once again.

"I am pleased to see you recovered from your...episode…" Miranda spoke that last word with particular bitterness, as if she felt cheated out of something by its existence. Alcina, however, now feeling healthy and remarkably lucid, had a different concern on her mind.

"What about my girls… you promised to bring them back."

Miranda's glare hardened, but her voice was that sickly sweet, "And I always keep my promises, my child." From behind her back, the priestess proceeded to bring out a trio of laboratory flasks, filled with blobs of some kind of inky-black substance. Alcina immediately recognized these as Cadou - the same thing that was implanted into her own abdomen, just smaller. Seeing her gaze, Miranda offered a brief explanation, as she left the flasks on Alcina's night table.

"A different strain, to account for their no-longer living states. I've kept the corpses preserved and I've decided to let you do the honors." Narrowing her eyes, Miranda muttered something further under her breath, and while Alcina could not hear it, she was always good at lip-reading.

'For imprinting procedures'…? What does that mean?

Regardless of that, Alcina stood up from her bed and was happy to find herself in some kind of oversized but simple clothing - likely made on short notice. Not having to worry about her previous state of undress, Alcina followed Miranda into the Grand Hall, where the bodies of her beloved girls were lined up on the floor, right next to the cold fireplace. The hall had no signs of ever hosting the vile brutes and once again appeared pristine - that little fact went unregistered in Alcina's mind, as she let out a gasp of shock at once again seeing her precious maids dead. The grieving woman could not suppress tears from breaking through her facade, which soon started to flow freely.

Letting out a scoff of derision at the teary-eyed countess, Miranda muttered one last command, before turning towards the exit.

"I'll leave you be, for now, then. Do inform me about the expe… procedure's progress."

As Miranda departed, Alcina took a moment to simply stare at the girls, as well as the flasks with the parasites in them. Nibbling on her lower lip, she started to pace around the room, bare feet slapping around the marble floor.

I knew it was too good to be true when Miranda told me that she could bring them back… All I'll be doing here is creating more monsters… more creatures like myself… but…

"It's too late to turn back now."

Mumbling under her breath, Alcina started the procedure, following the simple instructions scribbled down on some paper left behind.

Make an incision at a marked area - 5 cm long, 2 cm deep,

Attach a Cadou right at site of incision,

Keep the ambient temperature above 20C.,

Observe - do not interfere.

Finding the surgical tool nearby, Alcina proceeded to walk towards the Blonde girl with unsure steps. The small 'X' was cleanly visible at the left upper part of her forehead. She was no certified medical professional, yet the task at hand appeared simple… Alcina still hesitated. That was the body of her dear girl she was about to cut into, after all. The reborn countess paced back and forth some more before finally amassing enough courage to return to the girl's husk.

Letting out a resigned sigh, Alcina placed the tiny scalpel against the corpse's cold forehead. To the humongous woman's amazement, as she focused her gaze, she found her hand steadier than it ever was - not moving even a millimeter off-target. Hardening her psyche and letting out a half-breath, the last Dimitrescu performed the incision - with an almost surgeon-level of precision.

Checking her work and being satisfied with the dimensions of the cut, Alcina proceeded to perform the surgical cut two more times, before placing a single disgustingly-slimy parasitic nematode on each of the girls' freshly-earned cut.

To her unbridled horror, each parasite immediately started to violently burrow inside each of the girls. Within mere minutes, it was partially inside their flesh. Apparently getting deep enough, the parasites ceased their motion, but their activity had only just started...

Before long, all the girls started to violently shudder, as if some kind of force turned their innards inside-out. It appeared as if something - a great deal of something was crawling underneath their skins - originating from the burrowed parasite. While the violent shuddering subsided within minutes, the slight movements did not.

After watching the girls from her armchair for more than 16 hours and discovering no change to the repetitive, almost calming patterns, Alcina found herself dozing off to sleep.

Waking up with the sun down again - implying that had slept for at least six hours, Alcina was curious to discover the girls having stopped their slight movements at some point during her sleep - seeming almost dead - as they ought to be.

Considering the lengthy time she had on without any sustenance, it was not a surprise that the countess found herself both hungry and thirsty. Not wishing to leave the hall, Alcina's gaze lingered on a small servant bell, instead. Even though her servants had abandoned her in her biggest hour of need, someone obviously had cleaned up the castle in the interim…

Giving the bell a ring, Alcina was still surprised when a servant walked in a minute later. Alcina could not help herself but narrow her gaze at the elderly maid - a local villager, who had worked for her before vanishing when Victor's men struck.

The maid, immediately bowing, offering an explanation for her absence in that most crucial of moments, "Forgive me, my lady… Mother Miranda had forbidden us to interact with the outsiders - instead, we all went to elicit her for help when these animals struck…"

Alcina scoffed at the obvious excuse - she knew full well that even her own staff was loyal to Miranda before her. But the gall of that woman to rub it in her face…

"Mother Miranda had bid us to continue our service to you, if you will have us, my lady."

Begrudgingly accepting the meek proposal from the overly-pious maid, Alcina proceeded to bid the servant to bring her a meal, as well as wine, in addition to her regular blood-infusion. The maid obeyed without question.

Deeply unnerving the countess, it took four times the regular amount of food to feel satiated… and four times as much blood. That would undoubtedly place immense strain at her already-diminished reserves. Thankfully, her stocks were not yet fully depleted… And while - at this rate - replenishing them would soon become a priority, for now she had a more important task to attend personally - the observation of her dear girls.

For several more hours, nothing happened. Soon, however, a single fly fluttered out from the Blonde's open mouth, only to perch at her nose. Mere moments later, similar had happened to the other two girls, with more and more flies coming out, periodically. Even after her grisly experience, Alcina was unnerved at the sight, but kept staring at the ever-increasing number of insects swarming around her dear girls until her exhausted body passed out.

On the next day, Alcina woke up to find all three bodies to be completely engulfed in flies. Moreover, to the countess' unspeakable horror, it appeared that the bugs were consuming their flesh. More than once, Alcina had to vomit at the gruesome sight - but she simply continued the observation, deciding to not interfere. The nematode parasites themselves were lying on the floor - apparently having served their purpose and now bereft of life.

It took two more days for all three bodies to be completely consumed by the insects. All that was left was a dark, writhing human-shaped mass of creatures. But even then, the process was far from completion, as it turned out.

To Alcina's amazement, the insects soon proceeded to change color. Those around the face turned pale and those around the lips turned a deep crimson. Slowly, but surely, every single insect started to assume a more stable form - not one among the many, but many becoming the one.


March 9, 1958

In only two more days, to Alcina's complete astonishment, the vile-looking bugs had transformed back into what appeared to be three human bodies - her beautiful girls…

Other than possessing a deathly-pale tint to their skin and a hideous scar at the spots where the parasites were introduced, Alcina could not tell a single visual difference from their original bodies.

More than merely assuming their forms, however, the flies had somehow managed to replicate their natural body processes. Pressing a single hand to the Blonde's heart, Alcina found it beating - ever so slowly, but steadily. Even her deathly-pale skin was starting to warm up.

With bated breath, Alcina continued to observe, afraid to even blink - as if she would miss their wondrous rebirth.

And soon, her efforts and sacrifices had paid off. The Blonde's eyes fluttered open - no longer ocean blue but those of molten gold. Like a newborn, the girl gazed at Alcina, not speaking a word.

Soon after, the other girls had woken up, as well, and similarly to the Blonde, simply gazed at Alcina with their curious amber orbs.

In these gazes, Alcina could feel something. A true bond, not just a master and servants. A mother… and her daughters.

The Dimitrescu matriarch cried freely in genuine mirth, as her lovely girls were reborn. Quickly realizing that they were bereft of any memories, and indeed, were akin to defenseless newborns, Alcina decided that their old names would no longer fit their new lives. Like a true mother, she would name them herself.

From that day onward, they would be known as Bela, Cassandra and Daniela Dimitrescu. No man would ever lay a hand on them again - she would make sure of that.


August 10, 1970

"...I understand, Mother Miranda."

Placing the phone back into the cradle, Alcina was tempted to throw her desk into the nearby vanity. Instead, she roared out, loud enough that every soul that toiled in her vast castle shuddered in fright.

"BELA!"

Knowing full well that her oldest would quickly make her way to her study, Alcina lit up a smoke as she reflected on the last decade.

So much had changed since that fateful day when her girls came back to life. No longer was Alcina drab in cheap, hastily-made peasant clothing, but in a regal, almost royal dress tailored specifically for her by the finest artisans in Romania. No longer was she a feeble and weak woman, but the most feared creature that inhabited this forgotten valley - which had seen a great many changes, itself.

Mother Miranda had proven herself to be far more powerful than even Alcina had anticipated. More than merely possessing unknowable, eldritch abilities, the haughty priestess seemingly had a long list of associates - all over the world - she could call upon.

This valley was reasonably isolated even before Alcina had returned to it, but now? Now it was basically non-existent, as far as any outsider was concerned. All it took was a word from Miranda, and all the records of anyone living here was expunged. No government official, law enforcement or tax collector would ever come wandering around these parts now, since as far as they were concerned - nobody lived here.

But those who did wander? Miranda would happily pluck them up, always eager for more test subjects. More than that, even, the priestess' reach was long indeed, and somehow she had managed to track down and kidnap the descendants of the original nobility that had once ruled this land.

Now, Alcina had two brothers and a sister, who shared Miranda's gift with her. Not that Alcina would ever see them as her equal, mind you. She was the original - the inspiration behind the idea that noble blood somehow made the host more attractive to the Cadou parasite. They were her lessers and Alcina found herself gritting her teeth after hearing the praise Miranda showed that uncouth fool Heisenberg in.

Alcina herself, instead of praise, received only a reprimand and a warning that further mistakes would not be tolerated…

And now, the countess beheld the reason for her ire today, as a swarm of flies fluttered inside her study, before coalescing into a blonde woman in a dark-robed dress.

"Yes, mother..?"

The girl already knew what the discussion would be about. Her gaze, not leaving the floor, as well as her wringing her own hands was an indication enough. Shame.

Gazing at her daughter, Alcina had to restrain herself from verbally lashing out. Bela had failed in her duties, and it cost them dearly - in Miranda's favor.

Taking a puff of her cigarette, Alcina forced herself to smile at her eldest, instead. This failure was as much Bela's as it was her own, after all. She had to take the responsibility for her decision, and so, in a gentle, motherly tone, the countess was quick to soothe her remorseful child.

"I am not angry, my precious lovebug."

The young woman finally allowed her gaze to rise from the floor, glancing at her mother, instead, "You're not..?"

Alcina sighed, but shook her head, "No, my love. It was my fault…" Inspecting Bela's curious face, Alcina gave the girl a genuine smile, as she pondered on her predicament.

Bela was the first of the trio to return to maturity. In mere two years after her rebirth, the blonde girl had regained her wit and would frequently and eagerly assist her mother in whatever task she would require - whether the accounting of their restarted wine-making, or something… less savory.

It was not a surprise that when Miranda demanded the use of Dimitrescu dungeons to hold her ever-increasing number of subjects, Bela was assigned to be the warden. But despite not regaining any memories of her previous life, Bela had a remarkably similar personality - that of a kind-hearted person, who eschewed violence and avoided cruelty whenever possible.

And that turned out to be a problem in her new task. The prisoners simply did not fear Bela Dimitrescu, as she would rarely kill someone, and never inflict unnecessary suffering. Yesterday, a group of them had staged an escape from their dungeons - only to perish at the claws of a roaming pack of feral lycans. Naturally, Miranda was less than pleased that a group of her prime subjects was now being digested in some failure's belly.

Five years ago, her precious Cassandra had fully regained her own personality and she was as ferocious as ever - a perfect candidate for this job… if only Alcina could overcome her weakness. She still remembered how much effort both herself and Cornelia had spent on mellowing the rough girl, on teaching her the values of compassion and kindness. And in her weakness, Alcina found herself unable to cross out everything her mother and herself had achieved by assigning Cassandra to the most violent of jobs. A costly mistake. But there was no more place for weakness, not with Miranda's judging gaze on them. Alcina had to prove her loyalty… her devotion to their new Mother and her Holy task.

"Cassandra will replace you from this day onward as the keeper of the dungeons, my dear. I'd like you to focus on our book-keeping activities now."

Hearing Alcina's verdict - spoken with an air of resigned finality - Bela's gaze narrowed as even without her memories, she understood the weight of that decision. Still, the young woman obeyed her mother, as she always did.

"As you desire, Mother. Perhaps… it's for the best… I only hope that you can forgive my shortcomings…"

Alcina immediately stood up and rushed to embrace her beautiful daughter. Gently caressing her hooded head with gloved hands, Alcina cooed, "Nonsense, my beautiful dove… you have no shortcomings - you are perfect. Your sister is simply… better suited for that particular activity and it was completely my fault in not acting upon it sooner. But enough about that. How is my lovely Daniela, today?"

Alcina could not forget her youngest. The rebirth was hardest for her, filled with months of agony and years of confusion and now - after finally stabilizing somewhat - it almost appeared as if her mind was torn in two. The joyous, innocent girl… as well as murderous, savage beast. To counteract the violent split in personality, they had to take… drastic measures.

Bela nervously licked her lips, but provided the answer, regardless, "It appears the charade had worked… She seems… happier now, mother."

And that's all Alcina ever wanted. Damn the costs.

Placing a tender kiss upon Bela's forehead - which now had a flower tattoo - which the girls themselves insisted on grafting onto themselves in a show of devotion to House Dimitrescu, Alcina gently murmured into her beloved daughter's ear, "Flutter along now, my loveliest and pass the message along to Cassandra."

Bela nodded, before placing a kiss on Alcina's lowered cheek, "I will. Have a beautiful day, mother."

The girl then proceeded to give the matriarch a genuine, affection-filled smile and Alcina felt her heart melting as the wholesome sight. Executing a graceful curtsy, Bela dispersed into her swarm and flew away.

Alone in her study once again, Alcina returned to her enormous armchair, only to sip on some freshly-made wine. The exquisite vintage made from the finest grapes and infused with maiden's blood was to die for. Literally. The countess could not suppress a gasp of delight from leaving her ruby-red lips.

Life is good…

It didn't matter to Alcina who got hurt for it to stay that way - not anymore. Not as long as her beautiful daughters were safe and happy. The world had inflicted enough hurt on them - it was only fair for them to return the favor.


Present

Alcina felt the empty bottle of Sanguis Virginis 1970 cluttering from her hands, breaking into a thousand glass shards upon its impact with the basement's floor.

That was the first year she had harvested an unwilling woman's blood for her wine. Miranda had demanded that she would restart that ancient Dimitrescu practice, as she had international clients lined up who were ready to pay a hefty sum for the decadent beverage. Apparently, even the all-powerful Miranda needed financing to continue her schemes.

There would be more of Sanguis Virginis bottled and sold… a great deal more… and many of them would be for domestic use.

With Cassandra reassigned to dungeons, she brunette was quick to revert to her sadistic ways, getting more cruel and more creative with each tortured soul.

Year after year, the Dimitrescu family would grow ever more brutal and uncompromising with their methods - punishing even minor slights or missteps with torture, death and exsanguination to further fill their coffers and fuel their ever-increasing appetites.

At some point, even Miranda herself would start to look down upon Alcina for the unnecessary brutality displayed in her household - yet she would use her for all she was worth, anyway.

And now, Alcina could finally see it all plainly, that was all Miranda ever wanted - to use her. First as a potential vessel for her Eva, then as a loyal and devout servant and eventually - as a fucking fertilizer.

Everything Alcina had done played right into Miranda's hands. Even her rivalry with Heisenberg and her lesser siblings was artificial, designed to keep them all on their toes.

How foolish I was… how foolish I still am…

Only her beautiful Bela, working together with that silly Winters man-thing brought salvation to her family.

The weight of her accumulated crimes, committed both in Miranda's name, and on her own initiative suddenly felt heavy on her shoulders - insurmountable even. Did she truly deserve this second chance? Did she really have the right to keep running away from her fate?

The depressing thoughts forced the countess to glance at the final item in her chest. The Dagger of Death's Flowers, held in an ornate sheath, recovered by the Duke and returned to the countess after Miranda's downfall.

I am just as villainous as Miranda ever was - worse even… she never took pleasure in the atrocities committed… I did. What right do I have to just walk away and pretend none of it ever happened?

Tenderly taking a hold of the deadly blade, Alcina was completely overwhelmed by a rush of horrific memories, of innumerable atrocities. Was she truly any better than her mad, abusive father; the Soviet soldiers who killed Dragomir and raped his fiance; Victor and his cronies, who took what they wanted; Miranda herself - the mastermind behind the calamity?

Just like all of them, I took what I wanted, regardless of who got hurt. I grew to enjoy all the suffering I've caused. Sometimes, I would murder just for the sake of it. I am worse than all of them, combined...

Alcina's fingers slowly started to pull the dagger out of its sheath...

"Mother! We're home! Got us some new movies, you'll love 'em!"

Daniela's joyous voice was enough to break Alcina out of her reverie. The dagger cluttered back into the chest, forgotten.

Alcina knew that she would never be able to escape her past. Nobody could offer her the absolution she desired, for it was buried alongside her numberless victims. But she will still keep going, for those she loves, for as long as they would need her.

Pulling the ancient chest's lid closed and locked once again, Alcina Dimitrescu proceeded to stand up and dust off her clothes before walking toward the basement's entrance to rejoin her family.