Ethan's tears had not stopped flowing, even after a short while to himself. His audible whimpers may have subsided, but only due to his regression into a locked shell of his former self. The man could not escape the replaying visions of his daughter being killed in his head. Over and over, he revisited the scene and subjected himself to another mental barrage of despair.

There was no singular emotion to choose from. He was as hateful as he was distraught. It was just as easy to punch a wall as it was to fall onto the floor and scream. He only kept himself together because he didn't want to cause distress to Kyia – who was still very close by.

The brunette had given him his space after a while, though he still felt inclined to have her hold him. That soft, woman's touch reminded him of the way Mia would hug him on some of the worst nights of his past. He had only moved away from Kyia because of the onslaught of memories regarding his deceased wife. The woman didn't deserve to be placed in those shoes.

She was only trying to help. To expect such things from her overstepped the boundaries of their friendship. There was no telling just what kind of heartache she was silently contending with.

Her green eyes would not come off him as she sat there not too far away, beside the other end of the office room table. With her elbow against its top, she rested the side of her head on her palm and breathed a sigh. She absolutely hated moments like these. It was hard to keep herself composed, as his situation reminded her of her darkest of days.

Just like Ethan, Kyia also had to alter her behavior to preserve her company's sanity. If she started crying…

When Ethan cleared his throat, she took her arm off the table and turned around. She wanted to say something – anything – that would instantly make him feel better. It was a stupid fantasy, she figured, as she knew that nothing would fix this. It would be something that he would have to suffer through for the rest of his life.

Suffering – that's all that life felt like it was meant for at times.

Not taking her gaze away, Kyia noticed him retrieve a small, rectangular article from his top pocket. Staring at the face of it, Ethan covered his mouth as he let out a sorrowful gasp. Whatever he was looking at only seemed to distress him further. It stroked her curiosity, however, as she wondered what it could have been.

As he sat there, staring at it, Ethan did not even notice Kyia as she got up from her seat and stood beside him. He could feel the surging grief rising up from within him. He bowed his head as he sat forward and rotated his hand, tilting the item out of Kyia's view.

"May I see that?" She asked. He responded only by lifting his hand back up, acknowledging her request.

Kyia reached down and took hold of it, finding the item in question to be a colored photograph of what she presumed to be his wife and infant daughter. The brunette marveled at what she was looking at. The quality of the image was so clear. She had never seen anything like this before in her world.

"Is this them?" She cautiously inquired. Ethan nodded.

Her thumb skimmed along the edge of the photo as she observed features of Mia's face, noting her brown hair and broad smile. The child she held in her arms was plump and cute, which reminded her of her own daughter. She could understand why he missed them so dearly.

They looked like they must have been a happy family.

"Do you have any more of these?" Kyia glanced at him.

Ethan shook his head. Kyia's eyes fell back onto it, seeing now that this was his only reminder of the past.

"Your daughter is adorable," she said, placing her hand on his shoulder momentarily. "Your wife is also quite lovely. You chose well."

"Yeah…" He inhaled some of the mucus that had built up inside his nostrils. "I did."

"I wish I could show you what my child looked like." Kyia handed him the photo. "Your daughter brings back memories to me. Kalennia always had this thing she would do whenever she was happy. She'd roll her cheeks up, all the way to her eyes, and give me this giant, open-mouthed smile."

The brunette let out a small sigh as she thought back to those days so long ago. "She'd never make a sound when she did it. She'd just sit there and press her hands against those cheeks of hers."

"Rose would look at me and do the exact same thing," Ethan remarked. "I'd pick her up from her crib and that's the first thing I'd be greeted with whenever she was awake. Those were some of the best mornings."

Seeing that he was beginning to cool down, Kyia smiled as she placed her hand atop his right shoulder again. "If Rose's hair was just darker, like mine, I would have thought she was Kalennia. It brings a great joy to my heart to see something so beautiful in the middle of all this madness."

Ethan wiped his nose with the back of his arm. "Well, I'm glad." He looked back at the photo and returned it to his coat pocket, where it would be safe. "I'm sorry that you don't have anything to hold on to."

Her hand gripped his shoulder just a tad tighter. "I make do with what I have been given."

"How do you do it?" This was all so new to him. He imagined that he would never be able to get over his child's death; doomed to spiral down into utter ruin. Kyia, on the other hand, was proof that a parent could still push forward after losing a kid.

While he wasn't certain just how okay she truly was, he wanted to return to something close to that, someday.

She shrugged her thin shoulder before she walked behind him, her hand trailing along his back as she did so. "I got through each day, one at a time. I got stronger. But, I still have my days. I'd rather you not have to see them, but, at times, I am just like the way you are right now. Admittedly, I am happy to not be alone. We need people in our lives who want to do the right thing."

"Mia told me something like that, once," he confided in her, enlightened by her company. "When I rescued her from this nightmare house in Louisiana, she said I was brave. I told her that I wasn't going to give up on her, but she said that some people would have."

He let out an emotionless laugh as he stewed in that thought. "I guess there isn't enough good in the world to go around. I just wish I had gotten there sooner."

Kyia raised an eyebrow to his story. The tips of her fingers dragged along the seam of his coat before her nails drifted away. "You saved your wife from a house? What was happening there?"

He groaned as he played back the images of Jack Baker and his plagued family. The battles with the molded monsters were some that he could have never forgotten. Even the beasts of Serpenmoor could not compare to the sheer horror that those things brought forward with them. Eveline, that child, she was something else entirely.

It would all be too much to explain to Kyia, but he believed that she deserved to know something about his past in that regard. She had earned it.

"Sometimes…" He tried to figure out the best way to start off. "Sometimes, people create terrible things. Sometimes those creations are aware of how terrible they are. Chris had explained to me some of the things that he has faced. They're worse off than what I had seen. In our world, people like to toy with nature."

"How so?" Kyia lowered herself down onto a knee. She could have just brought over a chair, but she wanted to be closer to him.

"They experiment and change things," he explained. "The house that Mia was trapped in used to be occupied by normal people, but then this creation got loose and infected them. The creature looked exactly like a little girl and acted like one too. But, she turned them into monsters and infected my wife with her 'gift,' as she called it."

The brunette eyed him with parted lips. Even after everything that she had witnessed go down in this city, the thought of a man-made creation wreaking the same kind of havoc that Vikcia could accomplish was horrifying. "Your people created her?"

"Somebody did, but then I destroyed her," he said. "I saved Mia from her infection and saved another woman as well. It was the least that I could do. I almost died trying to do it, but, I wasn't going to let her be trapped there."

"Is your world often full of such things?"

"No," Ethan stated. "Life was normal, until…all that."

"I see…" Kyia lowered her gaze as she reached for his hand, taking and holding it with both her palms. "I only ask because I want to escape this world so badly. I just want to live a happy life, for once. My only hope now is to go with you, but if I may be honest, I don't want you to be alone when you return. I just fear that more nightmares are awaiting us."

His eyes turned to her as he considered the way she had spoken. Her words were so soft and slow, almost as if she had troubled herself speaking them at all. Was she embarrassed? Kyia had her moments of being stand-offish, but in times like these, she couldn't have been sweeter. For a second, he welcomed the soothing touch of her skin against his own.

It wasn't just a comfort, but a necessity.

It reminded him so much of Mia's. A fleeting thought took hold as he glanced at her cheek. It was much thinner, as were her lips. Had they been more like his dead wife's, he would have reached for them.

But, that thought faded away as soon as his brain kicked back in. Kyia wasn't Mia, nor did he wish to place her in that position. He let out a breath to settle his nerves, remembering how situations like these could shake anybody to their core. The rawest instincts of human nature would rear their ugly heads, but they would have to be cast aside.

"You can go with me," he said. "I would never think to leave you here."

She smiled again and stood up. "Thank you."

There was a short bout of silence as she made her way over to the chair that she could have sat in just before. Kyia seemed relieved, but more so now that he had taken himself away from all the crying. The woman clearly hated seeing people being upset. He could only imagine how she used to comfort her own child whenever she'd be in tears.

That touching voice of hers…

Kyia took her seat and dragged her chair a foot or two closer to Ethan. There was still plenty of space left for him not to feel so overwhelmed. She didn't want to suffocate him with consideration. The woman felt as though she had played her part, for now. Things like this would only strengthen in time and he needed to recover.

Still, her green irises would not steer away from him, even as her coveted book found itself upon her lap. "Would you care to get some rest?"

"I'm not going to be able to sleep, to tell you the truth."

Her finger pushed open the front cover of the piece of literature. It then caressed the edges of the pages behind it, brushing them up and down. "I figured as much. Would you care to let me bore you to death with my fanatical theories?"

Ethan pushed his thoughts as far back as he could. Realistically, they weren't going anywhere. Mia and Rose would always be at the top of his mind, but to make a sliver of space for Kyia's interests was possible.

That would give him something to listen to, rather than his internal screaming.

"Bore me to death, then."

She chuckled in an instant. It was exactly what she had been hoping he would say. "Well, I have a very tantalizing theory about the flow of time between realms, if you would like to hear it."

"Go right ahead." Ethan was still trying to keep his mind clear. Kyia's voice had to be constant for that to happen. If she wanted to speak, then the floor was all hers.

"I've studied so much about how the energy that makes up the walls surrounding them goes. It's still all up in the air, but I suppose you'll be my test subject when we return," she giggled.

"I've been poked and prodded enough by doctors, thank you very much."

"Hmm," Kyia hummed with pressed lips. "Not that kind of test subject. More so, when we go to your world, you can tell me if time is the same or not."

"What do you mean?" He was growing curious. The answer may have already been in front of him, but he had to confirm it. The woman may have been onto something.

"My theory goes that time moves back and forth as these realms course on," she said. "They are all in the same place at once, yes, and string forward in an ever-growing line, but they are not all in synchronization, according to theory, anyway."

"So..."

"So, it's possible you could return to a point in the future, or in the past. If you were to have been pulled from your world right now the same way you were before, you may have not landed her at this very point in time."

Ethan nodded for a moment as he processed that theory. "What you're telling me is, time is always going back and forth?"

"To a certain degree, yes," she answered. "It all has to move forward, but the energy that surrounds these realms may distort it, pushing it around."

"Is there a chance that I may be able to find myself at a point in time where my daughter is still alive?" He clung to the hope of the seemingly impossible. It would have felt like a ridiculous thought, had he given it another second or two in his brain. But, his heart overrode such controls, spilling out what he deeply desired the most.

Kyia kept her eyes on him, knowing that he was bound to ask that question. She exhaled a low breath, trying her best not to get his hopes up too much. "It's a theory, don't forget that. But, if the theory is to be believed, then possibly. But, it's not something you can choose. I can't tell you exactly where and when you would end up, as nobody would know how to control it."

"Oh." His hopes dwindled just as much as she had expected. He bowed his head, relinquishing himself to the mercy of the unknown.

"Again, Ethan, this is all theory," she re-iterated, tapping her finger against the surface of the page as she pressed her lips. "But, like you, I want to believe it. We're standing on the cusp of something greater than ourselves. I want us to survive this, for so many reasons. After all these horrible events, there must be something to gain."

She sighed with closed eyes as her hand rested upon the page itself. "There just has to be."

"I want to believe too." Ethan picked his head up as he looked at her. His eyes were still pink from all the sobbing, but it was like he had managed to stave off some of his pain for the moment. Her words had to have given him a sort of determination that was not there before. "There has to be something. Damn it, I'm not going to give up trying."

She glanced back at him, almost astounded by his drive. Kyia didn't want to say it, but she could see how committed he was by nature. Ethan may have been bogged down by the death of his daughter. It was a pit that he may never fully crawl out of. Still, that did not mean that he wouldn't fight for whatever opportunity he had to gain her back.

Seeking to pull his thoughts away from Rose, so that he may not fall back into tears, Kyia tilted her head and fluttered her eyelashes. "The fact that you wish to believe it as well warms my soul. If I am to be honest with you, you're the only person here who has ever listened to what I had to say. Most just called me crazy, but you? You listen. You gift kindness. Such a remarkable rarity in this cruel life."

Kyia shined her stare at him as she spoke softly, "Wherever you go, I will follow."

.

Bela tugged at the iron collar that had been affixed to her neck. The thick ring was so sturdy that there would be no way to deform it or shift it around. There was a hefty latch mechanism in the back, which her fingers felt around for a release. Unfortunately, the presence of a keyhole quickly became apparent.

It would not be coming off unless whoever placed it on her chose to allow it.

Her heart was racing, nerves wracked to all hell. The blonde's forehead produced droplets of sweat that were steadily growing in size. The collar around her neck impeded the placement of her hood, which forced her half-shaven head to remain in full view of everyone around her.

It was a minuscule problem, but a reminder of how much control she did not have over this situation.

I need to get this thing off me! Why am I here?!

She pulled on the chain connected to the collar, hoping that its foundation on the ground would give way. The wide ring that it connected to was firmly centered upon a strong, metal plate that had been thoroughly bolted into the floor.

If that wasn't hopeless enough – the door to her cage was pad-locked.

With both hands still on the chain and her neck craned to the door, Bela stood there with wide eyes and an exasperated jaw. Her breathing would not simmer down at all. The direness of her predicament had just set in.

She was here to stay.

I'm trapped…

She released the chain from her grip and sat down on the floor, feeling defeated. Edith's eyes were still fixated on her.

"It is best…that you don't…try to…escape," she advised her.

Bela ran her gloved hands across her face as she sat there, fighting the urge to scream. She could not just sit around, chained to the floor, and not know what was going on. What was the purpose of all this? Edith looked like she had to have had the answers. "Why am I here?!"

Edith closed her eyes for a second or two before she responded in those exhausted, weak breaths of hers, "I do not…know."

"No!" Bela turned around and gripped the squared bars of her cell. "You tell me why I am here! Who is Malcolm? Why are you here?"

Edith drew in more air as she fought through whatever pain coursed through her motionless body. She didn't look like the person that Bela should have been yelling out, but the blonde's emotions were running higher than ever before. Right now, this woman was the only person that she was getting anything from.

"He…picked you," she said. "If you…don't listen…he will…hurt you."

What…

Bela could sense the danger already, which caused her voice to drop to a whisper, "What do you mean?"

"Do not…fight back." Edith broke out into a weak cough before she had to fight for some more oxygen. It looked like it pained her to breathe as hard as she needed to. "You will…end up…like…" Another cough. "…me."

Like her? What did he –

Her thoughts were then interrupted by the sound of a steel door opening somewhere in the background. The multitude of glowing lanterns offered a brightness that made it hard to tell what was where. Bela turned around, rattling her chain as she searched around for whoever had just entered the room.

The first thing she saw was the same dark peacoat worn by the man she had encountered outside. His back was facing her by the time she glimpsed him, which added to the ominousness of his arrival. The man set down his hat on a small desk beside the door before his arms slithered out from the coat and set it upon a thin rack in the corner.

His head was mostly bald, save for a band of dark, grey hairs around the base of his skull. He was slightly muscular, but restricted to a long, thin frame. The white dress shirt he had worn under the coat tightened around his lanky back as he stretched out and removed a tattered, black tie from his neck. The addition to his attire joined his coat on the rack before he rotated his body to glance at the woman he had just locked up.

With the light, his features were clear as day. He was a middle-aged man, triangular-nosed, with dark-rimmed glasses bordered over his brown eyes. The corners of his mouth dipped into a permanent scowl, supported by his aged cheeks. He did nothing as he stood there staring at her.

It was an uninviting gesture, like a hungry predator stalking its prey – his sole purpose being to devour.

Bela wanted to heed the warning that Edith had given her, but she desperately sought an explanation. The limbo of her answered questions drove her insane. She knew that this man had imprisoned her, but why? What was his motive?

"Malcolm?" She asked.

He lifted his chin as he continued to stare her down. Without anything else to be said, the man retrieved a thick book that had been set atop the dresser and slowly walked over toward Bela's cell. Along the way, he dragged over a chair that had been set up beside a large table.

Her amber eyes glanced at the stacks of papers and bottled-up chemical agents on it. Various medical supplies were all stacked up on each other in an organized fashion. It reminded her of the mess of tables and notes that populated the dungeons of her castle, back during the days of her mother's experimentation on the staff.

The sight of them only gifted the blonde with further worry.

The chair was placed just a few feet away from her, out of reach, yet, closer than she preferred. With the book on his lap, the man sat down and leaned forward, hands joined together as he eyed her some more. He adjusted his glasses, peering at the large scar on her left temple.

Is he…looking at my…

With a loud, almost disappointed sigh, the man cracked open his book and flipped through the pages. He seemed to be almost entirely devoted to its contents, skimming along in a concentrated manner. It was only when her chain rattled that he suddenly broke his focus and cast a sharp, stern glare her way.

It was as if he was telling her, "Do not make any noise."

Bela froze as soon as she locked eyes with him. The longer this man sat there, the more she felt the danger of his presence. He wasn't her friend. Not at all. He was the one who had put her here, and the condition of the woman next to her was a testament to what he could do to somebody.

She did not hold the key to the dungeon in this world. Serpenmoor's madness had proven time and time again just how vulnerable she truly was now. There was no phasing through cells as a cloud of flies. No immunity to injury or death in warm environments.

Anything and everything was on the table now – and that was what frightened her the most.

After a few seconds of silence, he returned to his reading, skimming along, searching for whatever it was that he hoped to find. A dozen or two seconds later, his finger stopped on a specific page.

That was when he finally spoke, "And Peregled stood before Bazelous, his spear directed toward the beast's face. 'Let the world know the scars set upon you, as you will endure the marks of your transgressions. Stand before your creator and seek repentance, or be peeled apart for the rest of your days,' he said to the creature."

What is he saying?

The man glanced at Bela's scar, humming to himself as his eyes narrowed in on it. He began to whisper to himself, "Seek not that of which is untouched, as even the most tempting beauty hides many evils. A tortured soul will bear greater fruit than the blind unscarred. Yet, remember how Bazelous was branded with the blade of Peregled's spear. Do not forget that this woman was marked for a reason, as she has transgressed."

"Please," Bela begged, "let me out."

The man paused and breathed a quick sigh through his nostrils, mumbling to himself right after, "Peregled has marked all demons."

"Hello?"

He immediately shut the book with a great firmness. She noted the way his knuckles tensed up as his hand rested upon its cover. No good intentions were coming her way, but what was would soon be revealed.

The man chuckled to himself as he casually watched her, his eyes carrying a diabolical glint. "By the Fabled Ones' hands, I have been gifted with the opportunity before me."

Bela moved forward in desperation, but the chain around her collar halted her advancement. "What? Who are you?"

He set the book down on the floor beside his dark, leather shoes. "There is a feral heart in your stare," he spoke in his consistently low, monotone voice. "This is all new to you. However, understand that the leeway I may allow in this initial conversation will not be repeated."

What is he trying to do?!

"Please…tell me what is going on," Bela asked with a quaint tone. She could see his eyes briefly peek at the cleavage of her chest, but they only remained there for a second.

"I'm a man of deep conviction," he explained. "This city has seen its darkest of hours, but that has not stopped my devotion to our church's teachings. The rest of the Peak Bishops have all laid down their faith in the face of death, but yet, they wonder why I have yet to change into what our people have become. My faith carries me to save others, such as women like you."

He wants to 'save' me? Keeping me locked in this cage isn't going to accomplish that! Why is that Edith girl the way she is? What about that other woman?! What is happening here?!

"Why am I chained up like this?"

He leaned back in his chair. "You've already failed in a test of your faith. You are so compelled to break the physical chains that bind your body, that you forget the spiritual ones that bind you even tighter. Had you sought to break those chains instead, you would know how safe you are here. Yet, I can sense what you are, which makes me understand how inclined you are to focus on the physical aspect of your existence."

She could only express confusion at his statement. The man spoke almost entirely in riddles so far, as if they had been ripped straight from the text of whatever book he read from. The emphasis on some of the words was nothing short of unsettling, however,

"You're not making any sense to me," she answered.

That was when the tense motion of his hands reignited. He held back, but it was evident that his patience would only last for so long. The brief spark of fire in his eyes showed her that he would not tolerate those kinds of remarks.

"Like the fabled one, Armistus, I too have taken it upon myself to rescue a whore from total oblivion. Modesty is far from your nature. You reek of moral decay, exhibiting yourself in ways similar to the whore of darkness that plagues our city."

I'm not…

Bela wanted to lash out at him for even referring to her in such a way. But, what could she possibly do? She was locked in a cage with no way to move about. He seemed to be just as – if not more – dangerous than anything else that she had come across here. Tempting a fight would not fall well in her favor.

"I've never had sex," she insisted. "I am not…what you say I am."

He leaned closer, eyeballing her from top to bottom. "It is forbidden for me to accustom myself to your body in an unmarried status. I do not trust in your lies, but if you can be saved, then I will seek proof of what you claim you truly are."

She moved back at that very second. There had been no confusion over his words. She turned to look at Edith, who did not utter a single thing, but only stared at her with fear. The man then promptly got up from his chair and retrieved the book from the ground.

"Malcolm Stasion," he identified himself. "Peak Bishop in charge of the Sandersbeck Cathedral. I will bring you to salvation, but you must carry yourself along the way. You will read this scripture before the process begins." He pushed the book through the openings of her cage, dangling it there as soon as it passed.

She hesitated, which he immediately addressed with disdain, "You claim to not be a whore, but rest assured: You will be punished as one if you do not abide. I would think nothing twice of commencing such actions at this very moment, but for the sake of you being able to read and learn, I will resist such consideration…for now."

With a furrowed brow, Bela opted to act with caution. The simplest route was to do as he instructed, especially with what little understanding she still had. The blonde reached out and took the book he offered and brought it to her lap. As soon as she glanced back up at him, she could see his eyes still fixated on her chest.

It wasn't one of revile – but one of lust. Again, he only held that look for a second or two before he turned away without another word to be said. No direction or objective. Nothing besides to read the dense book that he had just provided her with.

The door that led to the next room was opened at that very moment and he disappeared beyond its boundaries, leaving Bela more frightened than ever. "What is happening?" She quietly asked Edith.

The brunette closed her eyes again and drew another long breath. "He will…marry you…to save you."

What?!

Under the guise of the small freedom that she now had been allowed, Bela returned to a fragment of her former self, speaking through her teeth with a hint of anger, "I'm not going to marry him!"

Edith would only look at her in sorrow. "You need…to read…that book."

"I'm not reading this," she replied, setting the book down by the chain in an act of defiance. "I need to get out of here!"

"I am…trying to…help you."

"Nothing you're saying is helping me," Bela argued. She wanted to remain rational, but the distress that the conversation with Malcolm had brought upon her spurred her sense of urgency. She would not subject herself to whatever twisted game that this man had in store for her. If there was a way to break free from this cage and kill him, then she would surely act on it.

Edith would only sit there and breathe, as it appeared that there was nothing else the woman could physically do. She parted her lips and drew in more air, fighting to suppress the agony inside her. "If he sees…you not reading…he will become…violent."

"I'll cut his throat if he tries to harm me."

"Bela…listen to me…please," Edith urged her compliance. "Malcolm is…a horrid soul. Read…the book."

She turned her eyes to the literature at hand, cracking open the cover to gaze at what lay inside. The book was comprised of various lines of text; too many to count. From top to bottom, it was nothing but wall-to-wall verses and descriptions of things that she did not understand. She wanted nothing more than to throw it to the side, but as she inspected its contents, Edith spoke out to her again.

"I will…pray…for you."

Castle Dimitrescu – January 19th, 2021

It was another regular morning in the kitchen. Bela had once again awoken at an early hour to ensure that the staff would not be late for their duties. While her sisters were still in their chambers, awaiting the hour that breakfast would arrive, the blonde would not be afforded such luxuries.

If her mother were to have seen her just idling by, it would have presented an unsatisfactory image. The eldest daughter could not be seen as the lazy one. There were no breaks from the kind of lifestyle she lived. The moment she took it upon herself to lead the house, it became a responsibility that would forever rest on her shoulders.

She fought back against the exhaustion of the early rise, but from the way Luana and Sorina had appeared, the staff may have gotten even less sleep than she did. The brunette with the basmele around her hair was as skittish as always. Sorina was constantly on high alert, fearing the slightest mistake that would demand punishment.

Luana, fresh from yesterday's assault, remained more stable than the girl who had gone unstuck. Yet, despite her composure, she seemed quieter and more reserved than usual. The blonde servant would hardly look up, save for whenever she addressed or responded to her master.

Bela kept a watchful eye on the two of them, arms resting against the stone table top as she leaned on it. There had been no reference to what happened the previous night. Why would there have to be?

The message of control had already been received and understood, loud and clear. There would be no room for careless mistakes in this kitchen. The glimmer of kindness that these two would be shown in comparison to the aggression from Cassandra or Daniela was not to be taken lightly. They were still nothing but worthless bodies of blood amidst a castle of pure nobility.

Yes – they had been unjustly punished.

Cassandra was the one responsible for the mix-up of food. It was an intentional act by that aggravating scourge of Bela's sanity. Luana had honored her role as the lead cook in resisting the middle daughter's efforts, within the boundaries of respect, of course.

It was a lose/lose situation. She was always going to be reprimanded by one daughter or the other.

Still, Bela maintained a sense of pride. She did not manufacture excuses to harm the staff. Everything that she did had to have a justified reason for it. That did not mean she wouldn't be inclined to hurt either of them, but it would have to be an argument that she could always win.

If it was under her mother's orders? So be it.

A careless mistake by them? Rightfully so.

A misconception on her part? No. That was a blemish to her reputation among the servants.

While, at heart, she cared not for the opinion of the women she stood above, her reliance on earned violence added that extra element of fear and respect. If Bela Dimitrescu was the one inflicting pain, then they deserved it.

However, her pride was also as large as her workload. Admitting her mistake and even considering anything close to what could be seen as 'apologizing' was not in her playbook. They were not her friends. They were just two of many women who had lived and worked in this kitchen throughout the years.

She knew that there would come a day when they would both be gone and others would take their place. Her concern lay not with their lives, but only her own wellbeing.

"Luana." Bela pushed herself off the table and approached the blonde, who had stopped mixing a bowl of seasoning as soon as she heard her voice. "Do not tell me that you are about to place that on all of the pork. Daniela does not enjoy it, remember?"

In her heart, Bela had known that Luana was aware of that fact. The constant correction that she dealt to the pair kept her in control. If they felt like they were always messing up, neither of them would dare question her, nor her mistakes.

Luana's eyes looked back at hers with a slight shakiness to them. She did not want to interact with the woman, but she knew that she had to. The beating from yesterday was still so fresh in her mind. With a quiet voice, she nodded and dipped her chin, "Yes, Miss Bela."

The eldest daughter did not say another word as she moved away and focused her attention on Sorina, who was currently chopping up more squares of red meat to be soaked in a pot of warm blood. The taste of raw flesh was always delectable, but the temperature of some of the stowed-away tissue was too cold for the daughters to enjoy.

Unless it was a fresh kill, a nice bath in crimson would do away with such worries.

Oh, how tasty it was…

Sorina's hands quaked as her eyes darted over to the taller blonde in the room. With the knife still in her hand, the brunette's posture came to a complete halt. "I'm sorry, Miss Bela!" She yelled out.

"What are you sorry for?" Bela raised an eyebrow. "What did you do?"

"I, uhm…" Sorina quickly realized that her anxiety had gotten the better of her. "Forgive me! I thought I made a mistake."

One of these days she is going to get so scared that her heart will stop. Pathetic.

With a straight face, coated with a hint of displeasure, Bela kept her unblinking gaze set on the fearful young lady across the table. "You'll know you made a mistake when I hit you, is that clear?"

"Yes, Miss Bela!"

I don't even want to listen to her voice anymore. She's always freaking out over the tiniest of things. Ugh, this is what I get for doing such a good job, I suppose.

Bela turned her eyes back to Luana, watching her as she continued with her tasks. There was a noticeable grimace of pain whenever the girl had to rotate her torso or bend down. It had to have been from the kicking, she thought. The woman's face only carried a few, faint bruises from the slapping, but those kicks…they were unforgiving.

Look at her, forcing herself to do everything the right way. She's in such pain. I wish the rest of the staff was like you. Hmm, I really should ensure that she doesn't fall ill or suffer an unforeseen injury. I need her in this kitchen. We're so short-staffed as it is. Cassandra would jump at the opportunity to kill her if mother told her to. That sister of mine…such a wild animal at times…

The preparations for the morning's breakfast continued as directed. Bela would occasionally assist in the form of providing them with the necessary ingredients. The rest of the work was up to them after she had provided the task's instructions. After that, she would simply just sit by and watch. It sounded like an easy thing to do, but that also meant that any error on their part would have slipped under her nose.

She'd have to answer for it at the dining room table. But, if all went well, the praise she would receive would be worth the gamble. It was always worth it.

Mother is going to be so happy with this, I can feel it. This breakfast should make up for last night's catastrophe. If Cassandra even thinks about sneaking in here again…

The hunger for her mother's consideration was an insatiable one. The gratification of being commended on a job well done would only last so long. Before she knew it, she'd be back to the mindset of needing to do better. It was what drove her to tackle these long hours.

The never-ending need to feel validated was just too great.

When the work that needed to be done in the kitchen was finally at its end, Bela directed the two ladies to assist the other staff when they arrived with the trays. Everything had been completed on time, which meant that at any moment, her mother's voice would soon be heard calling for her.

As the blonde stood by at the side, watching the servants carefully transfer the food, she briefly took notice of Luana's stare. It was a fleeting gesture; almost uncontrollable, in some way.

The girl might not have even known that she was doing it. Perhaps, Bela thought, the urge to do so was too strong. For that brief second, both women glanced at each other, locking eyes without a single word to be spoken.

Bela's lids squinted ever-so-slightly. She studied the fearful expression that Luana gave. The girl was beaten down, reduced to a crippled rendition of her former self. It was like she was asking her "Why? What did I ever do to you to make you treat me this way?"

It was a question that Bela could quickly answer. She was a noblewoman, and people like Luana and Sorina were born to be subjected to her will. Such was the hierarchy of the world. In this castle, she held a great power over them that they would always be forced to recognize.

Whether or not it was wrong was a different question entirely. But, Bela already had the answer for that one too.

She knew that it was.

NOTES:

One step deeper into the abyss of this story's darkest chapters.

Ethan is still going through a whirlwind of grief and Kyia is doing her best to support him. This isn't something that he is going to bounce back from. A loving father like him could never, and even Kyia knows not to mistake function for happiness. Still, she wants to inspire some happiness in him.

These two definitely have a dynamic together, and as some of you have mentioned, Kyia's presence really seems to place the goal of Bela/Ethan in jeopardy. I can only say that I will not break the promise that I made to you all. While this will not be a typical love story, the fight will be worth it.

Speaking of Bela, she isn't doing too well. This chapter may have shed some disturbing light on what awaits her, but there is still much to learn. Malcolm is a villain, but the idea of a mad scientist or religious cultist/killer is also not quite accurate. That would almost be too easy to write off, in my opinion.

This arc is going to be a dark one, with some portions just being downright heartbreaking in their own ways. As a horror writer, the content will be there, but as a story writer, this is where the heart of some characters shines.

It's not going to be a pleasant journey, but when we get to the end, the impact will be felt.

The next chapter will be released in a week. Same time as always!

Follow this story on Archive of Our Own to check out the latest artwork of Ethan and Kyia that was created for this chapter!

Thanks again for all the love and support that this story has been getting! I wish I had started this way sooner, but hearing how much some of you look forward to these chapters really brightens my day! I know this is all for fun, but it's people like you who make me believe I can find some success in publishing a book someday. Not just that, but each one of you is so awesome! It's been great getting to know some of you along the way throughout the span of both of my works. I'm probably running out of new words to say at this point, but I'm a firm believer that a writer who forgets their fans has forgotten themselves.

Thanks for the reminder 😊 Wish you all well and hope you have a great weekend! Stay safe and see you again very soon!