Archive of Our Own ^beta

It’s been a rough week.

Truth be told, you weren’t even sure you were still alive. Despite the ache in your bones and the wounds on your body – both of which had caused clear panic in the peasants’ eyes the next morning – you were sure this life you were now living was some sort of purgatory. Between the woman that haunted your dreams and the wails you heard at night…

But, no. It seems everyone else in this hellhole doesn’t think twice about what they hear when the moon is high in the sky and howls echo between the trees. They honestly might gossip about it, but you still couldn’t understand a word they were saying.

It’s made your reluctant stay in their little village more hellish than it already had been.

To their credit, your wounds had been cleaned and properly dressed, and even your coat had been sewn back together from the sickle wound on your shoulder gifted to you by that bastard. You still don’t know why you spared her, no matter how hard you thought on it or how long it kept you up at night despite the strain in your eyes and the ache in your mind. You think of what would have happened had you pulled the trigger, or if it would have mattered.

She didn’t follow you, though, and you consider it a mercy.

Perhaps one of the few you had left.

With your arm in a makeshift sling and a bandage wrapped around the slice in your neck, your stay in this village was rather useless. That only meant you couldn’t pull your weight and earn your keep, something you learned very quickly when they refused to give you any food rations after they’d already patched you up and fixed your clothing.

It’s been days since you’ve eaten, and you know that’s part of the reason the infection has grown on your shoulder. You couldn’t communicate with them, couldn’t tell them what you needed or how much your shoulder fucking hurt anytime you moved it. If it weren’t for the feeling your brother was still here somewhere, you would have left that same night she stabbed you.

This pain almost wasn’t worth it, not when it could be the very thing that kills you.

You suppose the good thing about your remaining stay in this village was the roof over your head, the fact that bastard hadn’t come for you, and you’d finally figured out where you were after snooping around that older woman’s home and finding a few maps hidden away. Though you were an outsider and you couldn’t even speak to them in a way they understood, these people were still kind enough to you. A roof over your head while you stayed in that woman’s home was not something you expected, honestly.

You’d be lying if you said the thought of taking your chances and making a break for it had never crossed your mind. What would get to you first and take you back to your maker? The cold, the infection, or the wolves you hear howling outside at night? You didn’t think you were brave enough to chance it, but you might’ve already been dead with the way your stay in the village was going.

Maybe your fate was sealed the moment you stepped foot on those muddy roads.

You take a deep breath and wince as you stretch, the pain spreading to your bicep as you shift beneath the shady tree. It’s a much warmer day out than it has been all week, and you were enjoying the free time spent not freezing to death. When you found your brother, he was going to get an earful for what you’ve gone through on his behalf.

The villagers bustle around the roads and in and out of buildings, chatting excitedly with one another about things you couldn’t hope to understand. You hear their laughter, watch as they trade furs and food, and you force yourself to look away, lest the rumbling in your stomach completely give you away.

You’d had little energy the last few days, and during the first few, you did debate stealing something small enough no one would notice. With how little food they seemed to have, however, you’d decided against it. They were just trying to survive and keep their people safe and fed first; even if they (poorly) dressed your wounds, you weren’t worth the trouble of feeding when you couldn’t even pull your own weight and help them.

A young girl trips over an untied shoe, falling face first into the mud as her sibling (you think) cackles and points at her. You smile as you watch them interact, your heart lifting when you see the presumed mother grab the older sibling’s ear and tug on it. The scene reminds you so much of how little you and your brother had gotten along, years before your parents had caused so many issues. It’s a shame what brought you together, forged the bond you had so tightly with one another.

You look away from the commotion and deeper into the large forest, your brows furrowing slightly as you watch the wildlife move within. Crows pick at a carcass some distance away from where you were sitting, and an almost humanoid creature seems to be stalking those birds. You can’t even get a good look at what it is before it moves away, hidden from your sight.

This place was so weird.

Huffing quietly, you struggle to stand, gritting your teeth against the pain in your shoulder when your arm moves uncomfortably. It takes you longer than you think is necessary to fully stand, and you hear someone rushing closer when they seem to notice you. Even in her strange language, the mother with the two kids is obviously worried about you, her hands gentle on your good arm as she helps you finish standing.

She gives you a bright smile and gestures for you to follow her, but for a moment, you remain standing beneath that tree, watching her go. The children she’s with grin and laugh as they chase each other, and she forgets about you to wander after them, shouting what you think are their names.

Shaking your head, you meander closer to the village, keeping your head down as you go. You hear the strange conversations of the villagers around you, though you couldn’t hope to understand anything between the amount of people talking and their language.

To your credit, you’d tried speaking English to them – something your brother told you more people were likely to understand when you traveled – but these villagers didn’t seem to speak any other language than Romanian, if the map you’d seen had been correct. How unlucky you were to refuse his attempts to teach you when he told you where you would be going.

You assumed he would be there with you, ready to translate or whatever he needed to do for both of you to be understood. How foolish you both had been.

You remain on the road that would lead you around the outskirts of the village, and as you progress, you see less and less people. Their conversations and laughter are still evident to your ears, despite their distance to you, and they slowly become more muffled the farther you walk.

You wanted to understand them or have at least one of them understand you, but it seems that simply wasn’t in the cards. With how little they seemed to know about anything outside of this village, you wonder if they rarely meet outsiders and therefore have no need to speak any other language.

Ugh. It was just your luck, you suppose.

You wander toward another tree, content to be alone and unbothered as you spiraled with your thoughts. Your good arm braces itself against the bark of a tree, and you prepare to settle on the cool and (unfortunately) snowy ground again-

The air in the village changes, something even you notice from so far away. You pause against the tree, straightening as you turn your head back to the buildings, your brows furrowing as a gentle wind blows against your skin. Many of the conversations seemed to have stopped or quieted, and you can only imagine why that is.

You don’t even know what the hell is going on in this village or the surrounding territories – a castle, a dam and windmill, a factory – and you’re not sure you want to know. The sooner you found your brother and left, the better it would be for everyone.

You didn’t belong here, but that was nothing new, you suppose.

As was the way of things, your curiosity gets the better of you when you hear a bright and carefree giggle somewhere deeper in the village, the sound making your heart stutter in your chest. You carefully move through the muddy streets and pass a few people that seem to be just as confused as you are, whispering to one another about what you think might be going on.

You’re not sure what you expected, honestly. With everything you’ve seen and all your nightmares had conjured before your very eyes, you didn’t think much could surprise you anymore.

You cradle your injured arm closer to your chest as you seem to be approaching whatever commotion has rocked the village this afternoon. Throughout your weeklong stay, it had mostly been peaceful, so you wonder-

Still slightly afraid of what you might see on the other side, you peek your head around the corner of a building on the opposite end of where a small group of people stand. Your eyes flick around the various objects and buildings you see, looking for anything out of the ordinary.

Nothing.

Were these people fascinated by the wind blowing, maybe? Ugh!

Internally rolling your eyes, you glance at the group nearby, watching them for a moment as they seem to be staring intently at something. You follow their gazes, curious as to what they must be gossiping to one another about, and it’s only then you see two much taller women standing by someone’s stall, dressed in dark clothing with hoods over their heads.

Wait. Is that-

The slightly shorter one laughs and turns her head, and you catch a glimpse of red hair and a green choker before she’s turning to face the woman beside her. They seem to talk quietly for a moment, and then a small bag is being handed to the villager selling raw meat. He quickly moves to bag their items and hand it to them with what you think is an exaggerated bow, but they pay him no extra mind as they turn away and the shorter one chatters once more.

The villagers almost seem to relax when the two women move behind another building, and all seems to return to… normal? They all hesitantly walk and talk with each other, whispered conversations as they look around like one would as they searched for danger.

Those women… They looked so familiar, and as you try to tune in on the conversations around you, one word seems to be all they can talk about.

Dimitrescu.

How strange… You wished you could speak or even read their language to understand what they were talking about and why those two women seemed to cause such a disturbance in everyone’s day. Even if they begin walking around like usual, something is off in their movements; they’re too stiff, too afraid. They glance over their shoulders and watch you carefully before their gazes return to whatever it was they were doing.

So weird.

Scoffing quietly, you turn back around, gently pushing yourself away from the building as you make your way back to that little tree hidden in the shade. The sun was beating down on this village harshly today, and it was such a weird thing to witness after the storm only a few days ago. You’re glad some of the snow has melted, even if you know more will come.

It was only the beginning of winter, after all. This little vacation you were taking with your brother was meant to be held sometime in the spring, and you’re starting to regret urging him to go sooner so you wouldn’t spend the holidays with the rest of your family.

You’re not innocent in the loss of him, you know. Maybe that’s part of the reason you were so set on trying to find him, if it meant fixing your mistakes and granting him the love and care he deserved. No one else saw him as you do, and despite how much younger you were than him, it never stopped how protective you could be.

Even if you weren’t a fighter. Even if you could never protect the way he could.

You rub at your eye as the sound of a bell chiming rings in your ears, signaling the hour change. It’s still rather early in the afternoon, and you really don’t know what else you should do for the rest of the day. You couldn’t read their books, couldn’t help out with only one arm and pain in your other when you moved, and you couldn’t even ask them for any supplies or other things that would help entertain you.

For a time, you’d just fidgeted with the things in your pack; a book your brother gifted you years ago, the map he’d asked you to hold onto, pencils and pens, papers of terrible sketches you’d drawn to occupy yourself…

Now, though, you had little to do while you awaited something that could tell you where your brother was. You refused to give up on him, but things were not looking good for you.

Maybe you could try speaking with the woman with the wings you’d seen pictures of in that chapel. Even if she didn’t speak your native language, you could still try speaking with her and figuring out something. Deep down, you do wonder if it’s worth it or if doing so will only make you go missing alongside him.

You sigh as you roll your neck and continue down the muddy street, giving a polite nod to the two women you see passing by. You hear them stop behind you, calling out something you couldn’t understand but that did gather your attention.

When you hear one of them shout and it registers that they’re talking to you, your legs pause in the mud as you turn your body slightly, your brows furrowing when you see the two women staring right at you.

It takes only a moment for your panic to set in.

The two women standing no too far from you are the same ones you’d seen earlier that had gathered everyone’s attention. They both wear hoods that obscure most of their features, chokers around their necks, sickles at their hips-

When the shorter one tilts her head back and you see golden eyes staring right at you, you take an instinctive step back. Her red hair spills out from beneath her hood and her black lips tilt up into a crooked grin, and you find that she reminds you so much of the woman that had chased you through that damned castle not so long ago. Your heartbeat picks up in your chest and you find yourself struggling to breathe-

The shorter woman laughs, glancing up at the taller one as she scoffs and turns her head away. She has darker hair beneath her own hood and very little makeup on her face (that you can see), and you wonder if they know the blonde woman in that castle. Are they from there, too?

The shorter one says something to you in her strange language excitedly, grinning at you as her hands flail and the taller one has to grab the bag she’s holding with a gentle shove on her shoulder. She snaps something quietly, her sharper teeth on display for only a moment, but it’s enough for you to understand how dangerous she is.

She spares you no glance, her eyes averted as she turns her head to gaze down an alleyway, and you watch as the shorter one melts into her side, clearly whining as she mumbles something. They almost seem like siblings with the way they’re acting, and you wonder if the taller one is also the older one.

You swallow and take a step back, and that seems to remind them there is someone else around. The shorter one’s eyes find you immediately, her brows lifting and that same flower tattoo between them moving with her expression. She still has a pout on her lips, and her voice is louder as she speaks to you again, barking something out at you.

Does she realize you can’t understand her? Maybe you should try speaking again, but you do wonder how hoarse your voice may be with how little you’d used it. Your expressions, as of right now, were enough to get your points across, but if these two were anything like that woman in the castle, you probably should have said something. Begged, maybe? Is that what they want to hear?

The taller woman sighs dramatically and lightly flicks the shorter one’s head, causing her to whine louder as she bats her hand away. She takes a step forward in her commotion, and you take a fearful one back. She notices, because of course, and she plants her hands firmly on her hips, opening her mouth-

The taller one seems to beat her to whatever she was about to say, her eyes still averted from your own, even as she addresses you. She keeps her head bowed slightly, and though you can’t quite tell, you think she has insects buzzing around her shoulders.

You don’t bother trying to decipher what she has to say to you. Whoever she is, she must be with that woman in the castle, perhaps even related. You try to think back on that large painting you’d seen before you scampered out a broken window, try to remember what faces had been painted onto that large canvas, and you wonder if your mind is only filling in the blanks to justify the way you run.

If they do know that woman, chances are they knew who you were. You don’t imagine they take trespassing and almost murder lightly, not against themselves, and if they recognized you-

Insects buzz in your ears as you hurriedly make your way through the dirt streets and down obscure alleyways, your breath shuddering as you release it and your heart thundering against its cage. Maybe you shouldn’t have run, but really, it was all you were good at.

It gave away what little guilt you had, though, and you wonder if they now do realize who you are. The injured shoulder and neck, the fact you don’t speak their language or understand them… Yeah, you stood out.

Just as your luck seems to go, you dart around a corner as someone moves to turn into the road you were in, slamming right into them before you yelp and stagger back, blinking rapidly. Your injured shoulder screams at you as it jerks back on instinct, and you nearly fall on your ass as your boots slip in the mud beneath you. How embarrassing that would be.

You hiss through your teeth and rub at your forehead, your eyes squinting as your mouth opens to apologize-

You do stumble back and fall right onto your ass in the mud when you see the tall, blonde woman muttering something to herself in her strange language, brushing her hands down the front of her chest as her eyes meet your own, her lip curled. She pauses when she sees you on the ground, frozen in fear before her, and her eyes widen only slightly in what you know is recognition.

You’re reminded of that night those few days ago, when she stood above you so angry and human despite what she had done to you and what you assume she said to you. It’s like you’re back in that moment, shivering and terrified on the ground as a furious and dangerous woman stands above you, ready to finish what she started when she found you in her home uninvited-

She reaches a hand out to you as she steps forward, snapping something out to you in her strange language, her brows furrowed and that tattoo between them pinched. When you scramble back and tears prick your eyes from the pain in your shoulder, she winces and rubs at her forehead, stopping in her tracks and shaking her head slightly as she seems to struggle saying something.

If her accent wasn’t so thick, you might have recognized what she was telling you.

As it stands, you couldn’t in your tiny panic, your muddy and gross hand already reaching down for where your gun used to be holstered as she attempts to gather her thoughts. Your hand finds nothing, as expected, and you internally berate yourself when you remember where you’d left it inside that older woman’s home.

You didn’t think you had a use for it when there were so many other people around, but now, you are really starting to realize how foolish that thought is when she could waltz through the streets as though she owned them. Maybe you should’ve looked a little harder for your brother so he could help explain what the hell any of this was.

Buzzing fills your ears as your anxiety only rises. The sound can’t be from the woman above you, seeing how she lifts her head and she grins when the loud buzzing only comes closer. You watch in horror as some vague humanoid swarm crashes into the blonde woman with enough force she has to take a few steps back.

The humanoid swarm slowly materializes into that of the redhead you’d seen earlier that you ran from, as seemed to be a common occurrence with you. Her dark hood has fallen back in her excitement to embrace the taller blonde, and it allows you to see the dark scar on the side of her head, just by her temple, splitting some of the shaved part of her hair. It doesn’t seem to bother her, but it’s big. How can it not?

In their distraction as they interact and laugh with each other, you struggle to stand, hissing and groaning quietly when more pain spreads through your injured shoulder as you use it to help yourself. You nearly fall back on your knees with the pain and how it spreads to your chest and down your arm, but you remain standing, leaning heavily against a nearby wall.

Your muddy hand reaches up to grasp onto your shoulder as your head begins to ache with the strain you’re putting on your body. You lean it against the cool wall, your eyes fluttering shut as you take a moment to breathe-

A cold blade settles beneath your chin, and your eyes snap open in an instant. They find the dark-haired woman as she stands in front of you, golden eyes drooping and dull as she finally meets your own. She seems to study you for a few moments, blinking slowly, and then she scoffs as she brings her little dagger back with her and moves around you.

Swallowing your fear and ignoring the thundering in your chest, you turn slightly to look over your shoulder, brows furrowed as you watch the dark-haired woman yank the redhead’s hood up and over her features before turning a corner, disappearing from your sight. The two remaining women glance at you, the taller one muttering something as she yanks the shorter one with her around that same corner.

You don’t like the feeling in your chest when the shorter woman gives you a little wave as she follows after the blonde one. You hear their distant chattering and laughing as they leave you standing in the mud, dirty and aching, and you can only watch after where they just were as you regain your bearings.

She… left you. She didn’t try to kill you this time.

Was it because you spared her that night? Were you now even?

Fuck. What did it mean, if you were? You can only imagine what she’ll do now, if she does find you again. That only makes your mind spiral as you think of all the scenarios that could come from this: death, dismemberment, torture, eaten alive-

She did seem to enjoy tasting your blood, after all. The possibility of her being a cannibal in this fucked up place really wasn’t that odd of a thought.

Could she even be considered one? You weren’t sure she was entirely human.

Hissing through your teeth, you peel back the collar of your jacket to see the damage done to your very open wound during your panic. You see blood already staining part of your shirt, and you groan internally as you think of what that could mean down the line. The stitches in your shoulder likely ripped when you fell and had to use your injured arm to get help get away, and you shudder when you think of that needle piercing your skin again.

Better than bleeding out everywhere, you suppose.

After taking a few more moments to yourself, you push off the wall and pull your jacket tighter around your wound, your head bowed as you make your way through the muddy streets and back to that woman’s home in the hopes she could patch you up enough for you to continue looking for your brother. If your stitches were ripped, that only meant you had to sit still while you healed, and you knew you needed something to eat if you wanted to keep living.

You do wonder how far you could get, if you tried to leave. Over a week you had spent in this quaint little village, and in all that time, you’d not found a single sign that your brother was even still around. His pack and belongings gone, the fact no one could understand you or seemed to know who you were talking about… Ugh.

Maybe you’d find your way out, eventually. Maybe the cold would take you.

God help who you used to be.

You’re not entirely sure how much time has passed.

You’d tried leaving the village a day after that woman had shown up again and left you, but to no one’s surprise, a raging snowstorm stopped you from going any further than the sharp rocks where those humanoid wolf-like creatures had apparently made their nests. Firing your gun into the cloudy sky had scared them off for a time, but the storm forced you into a dilapidated shelter that seemed to barely hold itself together.

There was food in that building, and the layers of dust on everything told you no one had been there for quite a while. It’s what made you decide to help yourself to the preserved cans and jars you found scattered around, and it was the first time in a long time you’d actually eaten and felt full. You understood why the villagers couldn’t really spare any rations – they barely had any for themselves – but going so long without eating while injured…

The storm had kept you in that cold shelter well into the next day, and by then, your condition was only worsening. You were sure of a serious infection when the fever started upon your stumbled return to the village.

The day after that, the older woman who’s house you’d been staying in had received a visitor from who you assumed was her daughter. She wore a servant’s outfit and came bearing a large bag of coins, grinning as she held it up for her mother to see. When she’d done so, you saw the faint bruises on her neck and the way she obviously tried to hide them after she saw you staring, but you also noticed the blush on her cheeks.

Nothing malicious, then?

You ate dinner with them that night as the daughter chattered about things you couldn’t quite pick up on, and your mind thought of what happened wherever she worked. Would it be the castle? With how many extravagant decorations you’d seen while inside, you assumed only the people living there would have enough money to simply give it out.

Hm.

From there, your situation only got worse. Time passed quite strangely, and you’d often wake up in places you had no recollection of as the world around you turned rather hazy. You went about your days, blinking once and being in a different place in the next moment. You assumed you needed rest, but with the fever and sweaty chills, that proved difficult.

Even now, you weren’t entirely sure how you ended up outside and beneath a tree away from everyone else, but you found that you really couldn’t move. When you were still conscious and a little more sane, you’d wondered if this was intentional from the villagers; if, like you’d worried before, both your brother and you were sacrifices to whatever freakish shit they did around here.

Ugh. What a fool you’d been.

The sun beats down on you harshly, and you slowly blink as you feel your consciousness slipping from your grasp once more. You’d already become aware that you were going to die. Despite how much they tried to clean your wound and keep it wrapped tight, you saw how gnarly it had been and just how far the infection had spread.

To put it lightly, you were doomed.

If you’d been near modern civilization, you might have stood a chance. As it stands, however… Well. There wasn’t much you could do but make peace with it.

You struggle to lift your head and lean it against the bark behind you, faint voices muffled in your ears as the villagers speak with one another about things you truly could never hope to understand.

You blink slowly once more before your eyes close, the sun blazing against your skin and igniting it hotter than it was already burning. Everything hurts and you desperately wish for something to guide you to your end. Wouldn’t that be better? You failed to find your brother, failed to protect him as he had always done for you, and-

A voice speaks out, louder than the others despite its clear muffle against your ears. You think another storm must be rolling in with the way a shadow casts over you, and perhaps it would be the thing that takes you. What a way to go.

A strong hand grasps your non-woundedy shoulder and shakes you lightly, and you think you hear someone demanding your attention. Your eyes blearily open, but through the haze in your vision and the sun beating against someone, you can’t quite tell who has bothered your descent into madness and probably death. You only see a humanoid silhouette, their hands on you, still speaking to you despite the fact you very obviously cannot understand them.

You blink several times in an attempt to focus on the person disturbing your peace, and as they move slightly away from the sun beating down on them, you think you-

No.

No.

Your eyes widen and you attempt to push yourself away as you see your brother crouching in front of you, a gentle smile on his face, one you know means he’s encouraging you. His voice is muffled in your ears and you still can’t understand what he’s saying, but he tugs lightly on your sleeve, clearly urging you to listen.

He can’t be here. All this time, all your suffering trying to look for him-

You swallow and shake your head to clear your thoughts, slamming your eyes closed as you look down at the ground. Your head bobs as you do so, and you struggle to remain upright as you seem very top-heavy right now and out of it.

His hand is gentle on your face as he lifts your head, and you nearly sob when you see him and that stupid smile he uses when he knows he’s right. He’s here and he’s safe, and you-

Where were you? Alone, forgotten. This can’t be right.

He’s not here. He can’t be.

He gently grabs onto you and helps you stand, mumbling softer things to you as he goes. You’re not sure what he’s saying or if it’s anything you’re supposed to understand, but you follow him anyway, tucking into his side as he wraps your good arm around his shoulders.

When did he get so tall? Ugh, this was so confusing. Maybe you’re just not meant to understand anything that goes on in this wretched place.

You limp and stumble as you’re lead somewhere, blinking in and out of consciousness in a way you’ve grown used to over the last few… days? Weeks? How long have you been affected by the wound on your shoulder?

You’re not entirely sure where you’re going, and truthfully, a lot of you doesn’t care. You tuck further into your brother’s side, content that he’s there with you, despite the fact he may very well be leading you into the afterlife along with him. Did he ever have such a thing, or was he forced to traverse it alone?

If that was the case… God. He’s there for you, even in death, and you know you could never repay him for what he’s done.

Whispers ache across your mind and drift in your ears, worried shouts piercing through that fog in your mind only briefly. He says something back to them, pauses for a moment to peek beneath your muddy and gross jacket, and with a quiet hiss, he continues.

You’re not sure where you’re going, or if it will even matter, in the end. You played your part, and sooner or later, you had to make peace with it.

You allow him to lead you to the beyond, one step at a time.

Maybe you should’ve paid more attention to where you were being led.

Is this your version of hell everyone was so afraid of back home? It’s more a nuisance than anything like eternal pain and suffering, and you wonder why it’s not quite as horrible as you were told.

There’s a faint pain in your shoulder as muffled and distorted voices seem to argue with one another, snapping things out as something crashes against the floor. You try to open your eyes and see what’s going on, but with the heaviness in them and the fact something is apparently laid over them, you remain blissfully unaware.

You think you lose consciousness again, because in the next moment you’re aware of, your shirt is being cut open. You can’t move your injured arm, and when you try to reach up your other hand to grasp onto something, someone gently grasps it and squeezes it as soft words hit your ears. A thumb rubs against the back of your hand soothingly, and despite the internal panic of not knowing where you are or who is around, you feel yourself calming.

You blink in and out, catching faint glimpses of a conversation you’re obviously not a part of. It’s cold wherever you are and you think you must be tied down with the way your limbs refuse to cooperate with you. Maybe someone is keeping you pinned down, or maybe you’ve been given something for your body to remain paralyzed.

You’re not sure which is better, truthfully.

A soft voice murmurs something incomprehensible in your ear as you think you hear someone else moving around nearby, metal clattering against stone as they… Well, you’re not sure what they’re doing, and it’s probably better for your sanity that you remain unaware.

It’s moments later that the searing pain of something burning on your shoulder begins, and not long after that, some wet cloth is jammed into your mouth to muffle your yells and cries of pain. Your body refuses to move and get you out of wherever the hell you are, and it only makes you panic more as your heart thunders in your chest and you spiral.

You want to go home. You want to find that place beneath the tree, accept that you were going to die. After all, you’d already made peace with it.

The voices snap at each other, one very obviously concerned and the other agitated. Something cool and wet presses against the wound on your shoulder, and the burning subsides for a time. You feel tears slipping down your cheeks and you want nothing more than for your brother to find you now, to take you in his arms as he used to when you were children. It’s not fair-

A third voice calls out, and it’s one you could swear you recognized. The air in whatever room you think you’re in tenses as a new person enters, and you barely manage to turn your head enough for the weight over your eyes to fall.

Your vision is still hazy and bleary, unable to focus on much, but you see two figures standing nearby in a torch’s light, bathed in a gentle orange glow. You don’t recognize them, not when you can hardly recognize yourself, but the one standing farthest away seems to be entirely focused on you.

With the way the torch’s light is hitting them and the hood over their features, you’re unable to figure out who’s standing there. This place feels familiar to you the more your eyes flick around, but a few moments later, your head is turned around as a redhead above you places that same heavy weight over your eyes again.

You try to reach out only once as two people seem to argue with one another, and as before, a cold hand grasps your own, tugging it back onto what you think is a table. Despite the clear arguing and snapping, that same soft voice speaks to you in what sounds like reassurance, and while you know you shouldn’t, you can’t help but find comfort in it.

Ever so slowly, you’re lured back into a state of unconsciousness as that voice speaks to you about things you can’t understand. It distracts you from the sounds of someone else coming closer, but before you feel anything else, you find yourself drifting amongst an endless black sea.

Someone is carrying you.

With the way your body is bobbing up and down and the arms hooked around your legs and back, you know you’re being carried somewhere. Should you fear where you’re being taken? Probably, but right now, you’re too exhausted to try figuring out who has you in their arms and where you’re going.

Your eyes barely peek open as your head feels like it weighs a ton, but you see little bits of trees and a clear sky, and you assume you must be heading back to the village. The person carrying you wears a dark hood over their features and their hair must be tied back – or it’s shorter than you thought – but the one thing that sticks out is the red-gemmed choker around their neck.

Have you seen it before? You’re not sure.

Another voice speaks out somewhere behind you, but when you try to peek back at the person, your head is shoved forward and back onto the first’s shoulder. They both chuckle as you huff in annoyance and settle closer to the person carrying you, only for them to tighten their arms around you.

Your shoulder aches and throbs, but you try to close your eyes against the pang in your bones and how wrong you think you feel. You’re not sure that you even belong in this body, but maybe you’re a little delusional right now. You’re not even sure when the last time you felt sane was.

You see buildings pass by as your eyes struggle to remain open, and distantly, you think the two people with you are speaking quietly to one another as you’re turned down a familiar alleyway. It takes only a few moments for you to be set down against a wooden porch you’ve seen so often during your stay in this village, and you assume you were delivered back to the home you’d been kept in.

The person that had been carrying you gently sets you against the wall, adjusting and fidgeting for you to remain upright. They snap something out at whoever they’re with, and then a long jacket is rested over your body, almost like a blanket. A small bag that clinks when it’s set down is settled beside you, and then the other person scampers off as your head lolls to the side.

Fingers harshly grasp your chin and lift your head back up, but you can hardly focus on the person doing the action. You see dull golden eyes gazing at you from beneath a hood and strong features, but you can’t recognize who it is. Even as you slowly blink and nearly fall asleep again, the person remains staring at you, almost studying you.

Then, as though you had imagined it, their grip loosens until that same hand is raised to brush its gloved fingers down your cheek. Without meaning to, you lean into the touch, releasing a sharp breath as the other person’s stutters. Their fingers brush along your jaw and down your neck as your eyes close-

A giggle breaks you out of whatever daze you’d been lured to, and your head snaps up as you blink rapidly to adjust to the darkness around you better than you had before. You squint as the person that had been touching your face stands and snaps something out, clearly frustrated with the person laughing at them. You watch the two figures leave, and only one glances back at you as they turn to leave your sight.

After a few moments, you feel the cold settling in your bones as gooseflesh rises along your skin. You pull the jacket closer to your body as your head bobs and it feels as though it weighs several tons. You struggle to remain awake, but eventually, your exhaustion and the aching of your body wins over what little willpower you had left.

You fall into a dreamless slumber, and part of you wishes it would remain that way.

You’re not sure what the hell was in those vials or who had given them to you in the first place, but the wound on your shoulder was actually healing. Cleaner stitches kept the hole shut and allowed it to properly heal itself, albeit extremely slowly, and every night, you drank a vial and replaced the bandages, as per a simple note that was left with you. The slight burn marks around your wound had left a gnarly scar, but it seemed as though most of the infection was gone.

Maybe you should consider whoever helped you a guardian angel, of sorts. You weren’t sure those even existed this far off the radar of everywhere else, but it was the only thing that kept you sane as you struggled to recover.

Aside from that… There was another note left in the jacket you’d been found in, but with the way it was stuffed into an inside pocket, only you knew of its existence. You weren’t even sure you wanted to keep it a secret, considering it read five simple words:

I will find you again.

It’s all that’s been on your mind for days since you discovered it. There was only one other person you knew of that was menacing enough to leave such a note, and it filled you with dread every morning you woke up. You wondered if it would be the last day you lived, if that damned woman you’d unknowingly gotten the attention of that night would come back for you.

That’s what it had to mean, right? It’s all you could think of.

On the bright side of your wound finally healing, you’d somehow, through lots of points and gestures, figured out that the little shelter you’d stayed in was (mostly) abandoned. The person who’d built it was nowhere to be seen, not even when you hastily drew the building and showed everyone in the hopes you’d find them. It seemed good enough to live in, you supposed, but the struggle came with repairing it and finding your own food.

Yeah… Having only one arm available for use was not the best thing in the world when it came to attempting the gathering of lumber.

But it was clean now, for the most part, and you’d slept rather peacefully inside. It was a nice change of pace, at least.

You take a deep breath as you step into the afternoon sun, broom in hand. You’d have to start searching for your own food soon, considering the cans and jars left inside would be of no use to you in a few days’ time. Starving yourself for a second time certainly was not something on your bucket list of things to do for the week.

Swinging the broom around idly, you wander along the edges of the building, looking for anything that may need an immediate repair. If it was something small, you could certainly do it with only one arm, but you worried attempting anything bigger and how much strain it would put on your already weak body.

You went to bed sore every night, but you did feel a bit better each morning, assuming you briefly forgot about the note left for you.

Everything seems to be in decent shape, at least. When you were fully healed (unlikely) and could move around with little worry, you would likely try leaving this little village again. There was a single axe inside your newfound home, and when you ran out of bullets (very likely), you could use that instead.

At least until something came along and ripped it from your arms. That fear of something finding you and killing you before you could make it out of this hellhole was the only thing keeping you there. If you were a more capable fighter and-

Something buzzes quietly, almost as though you’d stepped near an insect and it was warning you to back off, despite being so much smaller. You pause in your little walk and glance around, lifting your feet to ensure you hadn’t stepped on something, but the buzzing persists, louder now. As it strengthens in your ears, your heart drops to your stomach when you recognize the pattern.

How did you even-

You swallow your fear and spin around, lifting the broom as though you meant to use it to protect you-

Two forms materialize from a swarm of insects, one of them groaning loudly as they take a few steps toward your home. You try to remain as silent as possible as you watch the darker-haired woman knock loudly on your door, grumbling out something when she receives no answer.

You know her. As much as you may not want to, you also know the woman standing just behind her, brows furrowed as she takes in the little building. It’s easier to see her features in the sun’s light, and she’s annoyingly pretty. Someone as cruel as she seemed to be had no right to make your heart stutter in your chest upon studying her.

She seems to be focused on something, her expression twitching the more the gazes at the little building you’d been staying in. Whatever thoughts she had seem to be interrupted as her companion loudly groans and turns back around, chatting away about something she couldn’t be bothered to listen in on.

They’re both wearing different outfits from when you’d last seen them; with the pants and the jackets, as well as the hoods and cloaks, they actually looked like they were prepared for an outing today. That didn’t bode well for you, all things considered.

You take a few steps back as quietly as possible, holding your breath as you go. Maybe you could figure out a way to get to some semblance of safety, though the village was quite far, and you doubted anyone there would be keen on helping you from these potentially cannibalistic women.

Were you to be a sacrifice for them like you assumed your brother was? What a horrifying thought.

You hear faint buzzing as the women snap at each other again, though you decide this is the perfect time to make your escape. You could at least hide from them, maybe wait it out until they both assumed you dead or gone and grew bored-

As you turn a corner to the back side of your humble abode, you nearly bump into a large mass of bugs and darkness. You yelp as you jerk back, raising the broom gripped in your good hand to defend yourself-

Only to have it caught with ease as the person slowly materializing in front of you gives you such a bored look, her golden eyes dull as they stare down at you from beneath her hood. Dark hair spills from beneath it, and while you don’t know if you’re in danger right now – though you probably should be – you still see the way you struggle to take your broom and the way this woman doesn’t even budge.

It's like she’s a statue as she continues to watch you squirm and jerk, hoping to regain your only weapon outside right now, but she doesn’t seem keen on releasing the wooden stick. When her other hand dips beneath her cloak and she grabs her sickle-

Your hand unfreezes from the handle and you stumble back, gasping when you nearly trip over a root and you hiss when your bad shoulder moves to keep you standing. Pain spikes through your arm and chest, splintering through your nerves as the woman tosses your broom to the ground with a scoff, even as your own worldview becomes very disoriented. You can hardly see her through the tears in your eyes as your wound throbs and aches.

Without really meaning to, you glance over your shoulder with a deep breath, already searching for a way out and some path to escape. Thoughts of that woman and how she had remained on your trail so easily flood your mind, but you have no other choice. She’s here and she’s brought someone even more terrifying with her, and you know it can only mean one thing.

You’re going to die.

You take a single step back, wincing as more pain spikes through your chest, but you pause when you hear a single, hesitant word come from someone in front of you:

Wait.

You struggle to get any breaths out, eyes widening as you turn your head to the women in front of you. The dark-haired one crosses her arms over her chest, her own head bowed slightly as she stares at the blonde with droopy, bored eyes. It seems like she would rather be anywhere else right now, and you can’t say you blame her.

Your eyes drift to the other woman, and your heart stutters in your chest when you find her already staring at you, a faint pink rising to her cheeks upon realizing you’re looking at her. She almost shrinks against your gaze for a moment, speaking quietly to herself in her strange language as she looks to the dark-haired woman for help, her eyes pleading.

The woman she’s with merely shrugs and turns her back on both of you, cackling when the blonde shouts something after her.

You watch in fear and amusement, and you really do wonder if this is going to be your last hour alive on this planet. What a way to go.

The blonde woman turns her head back to you, brows furrowed so deep that even the tattoo between them seems pinched. It’s a look you’ve come to expect from her, but with the wideness of her eyes and the frown on her black lips-

In the span of a mere second, her expression hardens. She glares down at you, her hands placed firmly on her hips, and you hear her saying something in what you assume is her native language as she shakes her head at you. With the way her voice pitches up near the end of her little speech (a few sentences, at most), you assume she must’ve attempted asking you something.

Instead of responding, you merely stare at her, your limbs tense as you prepare to run.

She’ll catch up to you in no time, but at least you can say you didn’t go down without a fight.

For a few moments, you stare at each other, neither of you saying anything, but maybe you didn’t need to. Your lack of a verbal response must be enough for her to realize you cannot understand her, but that single word-

Does she speak your language? You must have been in too much of a panic before to ever connect the dots that she could.

She must have written that note, after all. What a fool-

She says something else, her accent thick and her words slow, but you understand her. She points to herself as she tells you, “Bela Dimitrescu, heir… of Castle Dimitrescu.” When she says that last part, she points to the large castle you had been in what feels like years ago. It’s obvious she’s struggling to make up her own sentences, but it’s the second thing you can comprehend from her.

Your heart lifts, only briefly. You could communicate-

The woman – Bela – makes little movements with her hands, gesturing between the two of you. “Do you… understand?”

You blink once, then slowly nod as your shoulders relax. Despite the sickle clearly looped around her waist, she doesn’t seem to present any threat right now. Maybe she wants answers, just as you do.

Relief seems to settle over her as she sighs, her head tilting back slightly. She mumbles to herself and shakes her head, lifting a hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. She seems to take a moment to herself, quiet as she stands by your little home.

You decide to dig a deeper grave. “Are you going to kill me?”

You speak it much better than she does, and that seems to almost intrigue her. There’s a bit of wonder and excitement in her eyes as she lowers her head to meet your gaze, stance opening slightly. You monitor her body language closely and watch for any signs of hostility.

She shakes her head, then pauses, shrugs. It takes her a second to utter out, “Depends.”

On what?

You don’t like where this is going, but you suppose you don’t entirely have a choice in the matter. Ugh.

“You spared me.”

Now it’s your turn to be caught off-guard. You tense again, taking in a deep breath as you shift uncomfortably on your feet. Her statement has your mind reeling on all the reasons you spared her, everything going through your mind that night-

Her eyes flick down to something she has in her gloved hand. “Why?”

Ah. That was the real question, wasn’t it? It’s not like you didn’t have reason to kill her; she’d stabbed you, tried to kill you, chased you all around that damp torture dungeon, made you feel things you’d never quite experienced before-

But she had every reason to attack you that night. You’d trespassed in her home, threatened her with your gun, wounded her…

Perhaps you were even, now.

Perhaps she wanted to torture it out of you.

Bela patiently awaits your answer, hands on her hips as she stares at you. Her expression twitches every now and then, brows furrowing or lips moving down slightly, but upon noticing, she always schools it back into a neutral one, though still slightly angry. Her eyes flick around your features and your surroundings, but you can’t find an answer for her.

It was silly of you, really. To spare someone who had been tormenting you and treating you as if you were nothing more than a plaything. To spare someone who did not think twice about harming you and nearly killing you as she sat in your lap.

Even if you can see the questions behind her eyes and the curiosity she must wish to sate, she doesn’t press the issue. She doesn’t ask again, and instead, she turns on her heel with a little nod and moves around the back of your home, her cloak billowing behind her. She snaps something at the other woman she was with, and before you know it, loud buzzing fills your ears again.

Nothing comes of it, and while you stand amidst the trees and the wind, you find yourself alone once more.

She visits the next evening.

You don’t know why you expected her to leave you alone after that brief interaction, one you had mulled over again and again until you nearly took your foot off as you attempted to chop some wood. It had been on your mind all night and well into the day – the practiced way she spoke, the way she looked at her hand, the curiosity in her glowing eyes – and you found yourself overthinking the entire thing.

In the best case scenario, you assumed she was going to kill you when she realized what a nuisance you were and how much space you were taking up in the village (sort of). Worst case scenario, she would torture you until you gave her what she wanted: answers you didn’t quite have.

How do you go about telling a presumed murderer you spared her simply because she was such a human tragedy?

Ugh.

When you first heard the gentle knock on your door, you assumed it was just the wind or the house settling. You thought nothing of it, not at first, but you heard the exact sound again, only a little louder.

You were not expecting to see her with her hood down, allowing you to see her features as her loose, tied-back hair was now out of her face. She had a sharp nose, a strong jaw, and you saw the way her eyes widened upon seeing you open the door.

She was… awfully pretty, when she wasn’t so threatening.

You peek around the door, eyes searching for anyone she could have brought with her, and she laughs at you, albeit breathily.

You don’t know if you like the way it makes your chest feel.

She’s holding something in her hands, and when you don’t fully open the door for her, she raises it slightly, almost as though she were trying to gain your attention. There’s no one else with her that you can see, but you know that doesn’t make her any less dangerous.

“Gift,” is all she says, and she shakes the cloth bag a little more, rattling what sounds like glass bottles inside. Your confusion must show on your face, and all she does is nod her head at your wounded shoulder with a small smile.

This is… odd, to say the least.

Your eyes flick down to her waist and where you assume her sickle to be. Instead, you see nothing. “What do you want?”

Her head tilts to the side, her brows furrowing slightly as she pushes the little cloth pack further toward you, even as you move away from it. You don’t trust what’s in it or what she has to offer you, all things considered, and she almost seems offended you don’t want it.

She opens her mouth to speak, but all you hear is Romanian come from her lips. It takes her a moment to realize it, and once again, you see the faint blush on her cheeks as she ducks her head, some of her hair falling into her face as she does so.

She’s… cute-

Stop.

“Just… put it down.” Her eyes flick back up to you, studying you. “Please.”

“Ass.”

Does she know more of this language than she lets on-

You blink and involuntarily open the door a little more, your mouth slightly agape as you stare at her. She lifts a single brow, almost in a challenge, and you find you can’t back down from her, not now.

“You’re calling me the ass?” you say with a disbelieving laugh, one that gets her eyes to light up a little more. “What the hell are you even doing here this late? Don’t you have people to chase after?”

Her head tilts to the side again, and you find you almost recognize it. “No intruders.”

“That you know of.” You huff and cross your arms over your chest, still opening the door wider than you mean to. You hate that you have to look up just to meet her gaze. “You could understand me this entire time?”

There’s a mischievous glint in her eyes as she barely keeps her grin in check, even as you see it twitching at the corners of her lips. “You… hardly spoke.”

“Yeah, well…” Your eyes dart to the cloth bag again. “You didn’t give me a reason to.”

Bela nods and shifts on her feet, the setting sun glowing gently against her back. It bathes her in an almost angelic glow, and it’s one you know to think better of, considering what you know of her. Right now, though, she just seems so human, so much like you. It’s terrifying.

She glances over her shoulder, brows furrowing slightly as she looks at the sun slowly disappearing beneath the mountains. It seems to have caught her focus for the moment, and you take this brief time to study her further.

She… is human, at least by the looks of it, but her height is odd. Without the blood on her lips or cheeks and with no weapons in sight, it really does look as though she’s merely gifting you something with no ulterior motives.

You’ve been alive long enough to know better.

And she is attractive, much to your dismay. Someone that is (potentially) cannibalistic shouldn’t be pretty.

Ever so gently, you lift your hands to take the cloth pack from her, something that seems to startle her as she jerks and her head snaps back to you, eyes wide. You freeze for a moment, but when she remains standing just outside your door and makes no other moves, you continue lifting it from her hands with a quiet, “Thank you.”

Bela clears her throat and takes a step back, turning her head away slightly, almost in what looks like embarrassment. She brings a single hand up and taps her shoulder – the same one that’s injured on your body – as her eyes flick to you. “For this.”

You blink only once as the realization hits you. She’s… Was she the one-

“You gave them to me last time, didn’t you?” Her head turning and her eyes flicking toward the ground give way to her guilt. “I didn’t… know.”

You hadn’t recognized her in your delirium and exhaustion. Had she been the one to take you back to that older woman’s home, to slip that note in your pocket on the way?

Fuck.

Bela shifts on her feet, clearing her throat again. You can’t help but stare at her in pure disbelief. What are you supposed to say? Thanks for not killing me and taking care of me, even when I’ve done nothing for you and you terrify the living hell out of me!

You’re so screwed.

You notice that she peeks around your head, her gaze flicking around the little shelter you were slowly making into your home. As her eyes dart around, you start to feel nervous and dread her judgement, even though you have nothing to fear from her right now. Not in terms of her saying anything about your shitty work, anyway.

She could still very well kill you, though some part of you – the idiotic part – doubts she has any intentions to do so. You’re not sure what it is; perhaps her stance, her quiet curiosity? Maybe it’s better for you to remain ignorant to her motives.

Your brows furrow slightly as you ask her, “Why did you do it? You could have let me die, let the infection take me and be done with me. Why?”

Her head tilts to the side, and you don’t like the toothy grin that finds its way to her lips. “Can’t eat when you’re sick.”

It takes only a moment for her words and her implication to settle in your mind, and when it does – when you realize she’s talking about eating you – you take an involuntary step back, your heart shuddering in your chest. She only giggles and grins so brightly and innocently, but you know better than to believe that. She has ill-intentions and she means to kill you-

But why would she go through all the trouble, anyway? Why not let you die and never have to think about you coming back for her or vice versa? What is wrong with this place?

Bela tilts her head further to the side, her grin softening slightly as she seems to study you once more. You know you should slam this door in her face, grab your gun, and-

“Cute.”

She- What?

You hate the flush that burns on your cheeks, even more so when she giggles at your flustered state. Your heart beats more rapidly in your chest, pounding against its confinement, but it’s not in fear, this time. You hate that.

Your breathing quickens as you take a step back and grab a firm hold of the door’s handle. In a moment’s notice, you slam the door closed, staggering back a few steps with your heart in your throat. All you can hear is the ringing in your ears and all you can feel are your limbs growing numb and slack.

You’re dead. She’s going to kill you and enjoy it-

And yet, nothing comes. The door remains shut and you never see anything amiss, not even when you peek around the dusty, ragged curtains in an attempt to figure out where this strange woman is.

She… must have left. You doubt she would be waiting around for you to leave the “safety” of your home in the morning; she seems the type to break in and murder you for offending her in such a way.

Nothing comes, and for once, you find yourself grateful for the unnerving peace of the night.

It’s over a week later that she visits you again, just after you thought you were finally safe.

Within the pack she’d so strangely left you, there were more vials you were instructed to drink and something you were told very strictly to apply directly to the wound and not consume. You wonder why she cares so much.

The sun was steadily disappearing beneath the massive mountains that surrounded the village, and unfortunately for you, your work wasn’t quite over. As much as those vials and fresh bandages helped, you still refused to use your injured arm for anything strenuous, and as such, it left you struggling to swing a large axe one-handed to chop some wood for the evening.

Sweat dripped down your face and neck, despite the chill of the evening air. When you took a brief moment to yourself to catch your breath and cool off a bit, you heard the faintest crack of a twig somewhere behind you. At first, you didn’t think much of it; considering the creepy things that wandered this forest at night – the exact reason you were always inside by nightfall – you wondered if some fucked up creature was just stalking you and debating an attack.

Your gun was inside on your bedside table, because of course, and you only had the heavy axe as your weapon. You might have been able to attack one-handed with it, but you doubted you’d get very far between how long it took to raise it and how much force would need to be behind your swing.

Even still, you moved to have a better grip on the axe as your eyes scanned your surroundings, looking for anything amiss. There was nothing, much to your dismay. It was possible you’d misheard it or just-

There’s that telltale sound of buzzing that’s been haunting your dreams for nights on end. You couldn’t forget it if you tried.

One of the bugs crawls on you, and in a blind panic, you drop your axe and back away, your heart thundering harder in your chest. That’s when you see her – in the glow of the setting sun, she looked almost angelic. Only your brain knew she was anything but.

Bela wears something simple but noticeably warm today; long pants, boots that almost rose to her knees, a long-necked shirt, and a heavier coat. She wore all black, but her coat was a deep crimson. As far as you could tell, she had no weapons on her person.

That wasn’t saying much, considering who she was.

She tilts her head curiously at you, but she remains silent. You say nothing to her, instead choosing to let her be the main spokesperson if she wanted to see you so badly.

That note she’d left with you all those days ago lingers in the back of your mind. I will find you again.

Was she finally here to end things, to put you out of your misery?

“You are not…” She struggles to speak, and you see her glance at her gloved hand again. Is she holding a piece of paper? “From here. Why?”

You blink once at her. “Why am I not from here?”

What an odd thing to ask.

She opens her mouth as if to say something, looks down at what you assume is paper in her hand, and shakes her head when she looks at you again. She’s strange. “Why are you here? The village?”

Ah. She truly did not speak English well, did she? “My brother. We were traveling not far from your little village and…” Your chest hurts at the thought. How does someone simply disappear like that? “I want to find him and leave.”

She smiles, and you really hate how pretty she is. “Leave,” she mumbles. She takes a step closer, her brows raising when you don’t move. “Did he…” Her eyes flick around your form. “Does he look like you?”

It seems she’s gaining more courage to speak confidently. Her words are still slow, but she’s not pausing as much. “Not really. Maybe I just never saw the resemblance, but the only thing we shared were our eyes.”

Her own eyes seem to widen as her lips downturn and her brows furrow deeply, pinching that strange tattoo between them. She must realize the strange expression she’s making, as she shifts it into something more neutral.

“Oh,” is all she says, and she averts her gaze. She must not know what else to talk about. “I hope you find him soon.”

“It’s been a little difficult. I can’t understand anyone and there’s this really annoying lady that keeps coming to my humble abode… Rather unfortunate, really.” A joke, and it’s one she seems to recognize. You see the corner of her lip twitch up. “I just don’t know what she wants from me.”

“Curious.”

“About why I decided not to shoot you despite what you had done to me?”

Your shoulder and neck ache at the thought.

She finally meets your gaze again, a single brow raised. “You trespassed.”

“You wouldn’t kill me.”

She stands a little straighter at that, her throat moving. She remains quiet for a few moments, then mutters out something in Romanian. You assume it’s a curse with how quick and harsh it comes from her.

“I… I didn’t…”

“You could have, you know. You don’t have to do any of this; we can part ways and I can either die out here or find my way back. Or I can die out there.” She remains quiet, and you watch her for a few moments. “Why do you think I’m worth the trouble?”

You never really were before, not to anyone but your brother. It’s strange.

Bela glances down at her hand again, then clenches it into a fist. She mumbles something to herself as her brows furrow deeply. After several heartbeats, she says, “I don’t understand.”

“Understand what? This isn’t easy for me, either. How can someone go from wanting to kill me to ensuring I’m taken care of within such a short span of time?”

Her eyes flick around several different things; the axe on the ground, the wood, your sorry state and filthy clothes… And they drift to the shabby shack you called your home. You made it work, somehow, but this wouldn’t last forever.

You suspect she knows that.

“I don’t know,” is all she mumbles, her head bowed and gaze still averted. Poor thing. Despite her height and her intimidating aura, she looked so small.

You tilt your head to the side as you watch her. “You’re not so scary when you’re like this.”

Your words hit you as soon as they leave your mouth, and you feel your cheeks heat in embarrassment. Why would you tell her that? Now she was going to make an effort to be more terrifying and probably kill you-

She smiles softly at you, her eyelids drooping a little. She looks so human. “Do you… prefer it?”

“I do like living, so… Yes.”

She shifts on her feet, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. It seems she has nothing else to say for the moment, but you know the day is coming to an end. It won’t be safe for you outside soon.

You watch the setting sun for a few moments in a slightly uncomfortable silence. You’re unsure how to proceed with her; you’d prefer if she simply left you alone, but considering everything that had happened, you doubted such a thing would come to be. Maybe you’d finally get a little lucky.

You take a deep breath, moving to grab the axe on the ground. She doesn’t budge even the slightest, though you continue to keep a careful eye on her. “I’m finished for the day. You can stay out here or… I don’t know. Do something. You’re not coming with me; I barely have enough for myself.”

You walk to bring the axe inside, taking your sweet time setting it where you always do beside your stash of food. When you make it back out into the cool evening air to grab the wood you’d chopped up, Bela is gone. It’s as though she was never there to begin with.

Not that you would complain.

To absolutely no one’s surprise, she’s back three days later.

It’s much later in the evening when you hear the rhythmic knock on your door; it’s a pattern you don’t recognize, but as your heart drops, you think you know exactly who’s outside.

Truthfully, you’d thought she would leave you alone after that conversation. The unknown between the two of you, why you spared her and why she continues to help you. She must have better things to do in that castle of hers.

You grab your gun and open the door slowly, peeking your head around it while you ready yourself for a fight. Upon seeing Bela standing with her arms behind her back, however, you sag and open the door fully.

“I figured,” you mutter. She blinks at you. “Shouldn’t you be in your home right now?”

Why was she here so late? Surely there were other duties she could have been tending to. Chores, maybe?

She fidgets from one foot to another before turning, clearly hiding what was behind her back. After you’d tried peeking to see what she had, she handed you a bag that clinked together, and you already knew what was inside.

“You really don’t have to do this,” you tell her as you gently take the bag from her. It’s strange how little you were afraid of her in this moment. She huffs and your heart stutters. Ugh. “Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”

Her eyes flick behind you, and though she doesn’t say anything, you gather what she’s asking.

You hesitate for a moment; allowing her inside your little home likely meant your acquaintanceship was changing. Did you really want to deal with that?

Was it worth it?

Though, you suppose it was nice to be able to speak with someone and communicate. Even if she spoke strangely and didn’t seem to always know what she was saying or implying. It was… entertaining. That was all.

Despite something in your head screaming at you to slam the door in her face, you take a step back and gesture for her to enter. She seems taken aback at the idea of you actually letting her in, but after shaking her head a little, she bows it and steps inside. Better to not waste this opportunity, you guess.

Bela stands rather awkwardly, her eyes flicking around everything you had. Really, it was nothing that was yours. Only the coat and few scattered extra clothes from the old woman you stayed with were yours. If no one had come for it by now, you assumed it up for grabs, at least.

Your bones and muscles ached, and so, you flopped right onto the small bed, crossing your arms over your chest. You watch as she moves toward the little table you’d been using to sit down and eat at, placing the other bag she has on it. Whatever is inside is much softer and makes little noise, and you can’t quite tell what she’s brought.

At your questioning look, she tells you, “We had extra. No point in wasting it.”

Your suspicions only grow. “Uh huh.” She’s speaking better, at least. Have those bags under her eyes always been there? “And you thought of me? How kind.”

Her eyes narrow slightly as she leans against the table, hands on her hips. “So rude. You don’t want it?”

You blink at her and tilt your head to the side. “Have you been practicing? You sound better.”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“And you’re not going off a piece of paper anymore!” Her cheeks flush a light pink. Gotcha. “You’d be cute if you weren’t so terrifying.”

She blinks rapidly and the flush on her cheeks only turns a deeper color. Interesting. Is this how you’re going to catch her off-guard? The same way she did for you?

“I can be both,” she confidently says. “Perhaps I’m simply not to your taste.”

Oh, what a dangerous game you were playing. Is this really what you have to do to get your brother back? Ugh. “I never said that.”

Your own cheeks are heating the more you speak, but she looks worse. She even has to hide her face, but you catch the blush before then. “No?”

“I don’t recall telling you such a thing. Do you?”

She clears her throat and turns her back to you, her hands gripping the edge of the table. “Rude.”

“Oh, please. This should be the least of your worries, all things considered.” She peeks at you over her shoulder. “What’s in the bag? Poison?”

“If I wanted you dead, little one,” she murmurs, her eyes narrowing, “I would have torn you apart.”

Ah, fuck.

You’re not sure why your heart beats more rapidly in your chest from her tone, but you choose to ignore it. And your cheeks heating were from embarrassment. Nothing else.

What a brat.

You swallow and shift on the bed. “Well, I’m eternally grateful you’ve decided against it.” It’s so awkward. “Thank you. Really.”

Her stance changes in an instant. “It’s food. Scraps, actually. You don’t seem entirely… capable of hunting, and I assumed you might like something to eat.”

Has she been practicing?

“It is a little difficult. The vials are helping with my shoulder, but the wound was deep, you know.” Not to mention the scarring. Some of it really did look like burns, and you’re reminded of that day your “brother” walked with you and you found yourself blinded and surrounded by strangers. “I’ll go to the village soon to trade something. You don’t have to worry about me.”

She turns and stares down at you, a brow raised while her eyelids droop. “You’re not very bright, are you?” Ouch. A little uncalled for, but not entirely inaccurate. “There’s more in my castle. You are welcome to come with me.” She fidgets with the hem of her glove. “During the night, of course.”

She’s certainly not a servant – not with what she wears and her attitude – and you deduct she must be a lady of some sort. Noble blood. But why would you only be allowed there at night? Is it easier to kill people then?

“Your castle?” you ask. “Are you the queen of it?”

It was more meant as a joke, but Bela stands a little straighter and huffs. “No. Merely the eldest of three. My mother deals with expenses, running our business, keeping the peasants in check…” A muscle in her jaw twitches as she looks away. “I am to inherit her place if she can no longer do so.”

She doesn’t seem entirely thrilled about that, but you suppose most people don’t want anything to happen to their parents.

“That explains a lot.” Her brows furrow. “Why you were the first one to find me and why you seem to think I’m your responsibility. My brother was the same way; content with the world on his shoulders if it meant I could have a peaceful existence.”

She frowns, and you almost think you see guilt on her face before she schools it into a false expression of happiness. “I hope you find him soon. He sounds… pleasant.”

You snort when she curls her lip. “What’s that face for?”

Bela rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest. “Men,” she says, disgust clear in her tone. “Vile creatures, they are.”

You hum and scoot back on the bed, watching her with a small smile. “You’d like him, I think. He’s a lot like me; isn’t that what you prefer?”

Her cheeks flush pink again, and she tilts her head up toward the ceiling in what you assume is an attempt to hide it. “I do not have to answer.”

“Guilty.”

You share a laugh with her, and you realize this all feels so… normal. How was this the same woman that had chased you through a dark dungeon and nearly killed you? Truthfully, you didn’t see any of that personality with her now. She was gentle, calm. It could have simply been a ploy to gain your trust, but… Part of you doesn’t think that’s true.

Bela clears her throat and steps away, headed toward the door. “Enjoy your night, little one. And eat.”

You watch as she lets herself out, hesitating at the door for only an extra moment. You don’t try to stop her, and you wonder if she wishes you would have.

Hours later, after your mind has calmed from the insanity within – the thoughts of what the fuck you were doing, why you weren’t running – you lie in bed, staring at the dark ceiling.

And you come to a realization.

You’re fucked.

She visits the next night, bringing more food than you’d seen in days.

Then three nights after that, with clothes that seemed to be in better quality than what the village folk wore.

And she visits again, again, again. Each night she knocks on your door – something you have, unfortunately, come to expect as soon as the sun disappears – she brings you some sort of gift; be it delicious food, more vials for your rapidly healing wound, or small trinkets she told you she no longer needed. Books, pencils, and even a few journals she’d said were lying around her room, unused.

Was that why they were in such pristine condition with not even a single speck of dust on them?

It went on for roughly three weeks, you think. And the more she visited, the less you saw her as a monster and more as a person. She treated you kindly; she asked about your life before you were stuck here, whether your parents would come looking for you, and what your plans were for the duration of your stay. When you mentioned wanting to leave again, she huffed a laugh and explained you couldn’t. Not on your own.

There were creatures that roamed outside the village’s outskirts made to keep the villagers from leaving. Though she was hesitant, she also explained that’s what she and her sisters were for, aside from other things. They, too, kept the village folk from leaving per her leader’s and mother’s request.

She didn’t need to go into detail about what she did to keep them from leaving.

You told her who you were, what your life had been like before you were lost like your brother. You told her of your parents’ ignorance to the world around them and how desperately you had wanted to leave. You could have, if you were any braver, but despite being above the age to get away from them, you never did.

In return, late into the nights she stayed, you asked about her own family. She told you about her sisters – Cassandra and Daniela – that constantly caused problems for her, and she assumed it was intentional. She prefers everything to be done correctly and they both seem to deliberately create more messes for her to clean up while they do whatever it is they do.

You learn that Cassandra, the middle child, prefers to spend her time in the cellar away from everyone else. Bela accompanies her sister sometimes, but she doesn’t go into detail about what they do. You remember what you saw when you passed through, though, and you wonder if it’s better she remains quiet about it.

You then learn that Daniela, the youngest, is spoiled rotten by everyone in her family. She has a more fragile state of mind as opposed to her siblings, and so, she rarely has to take responsibility and only has a few basic chores. She’s where a lot of agitation stems from between Bela and Cassandra; the former wants to discipline her as the eldest and to gain her mother’s approval, while the latter always defends her and excuses her.

But Bela adores her sisters despite her frustrations. You see the light in her golden eyes as she speaks of them, the way she excitedly tells you how often she leaves specialized gifts for them but pretends to not know where they came from.

She puts on a hard face because that is who she thinks she must be for her family. She must be the one to enforce rules and to discipline when no one else wants to. She doesn’t want to disappoint anyone, least of all those she loves dearly.

She speaks of her mother last, and it doesn’t take you long to understand why.

Bela tells you of the expectations put on her as the eldest and how hard it is for her. She struggles to stay afloat and keep everything in order, and she constantly feels as though she’s not good enough for what she’s meant to do. She feels as though she is one step away from letting everything fall apart, and everyone will see the real her.

They will see her the way she sees herself; small, stupid, and incapable of doing anything right.

You try to tell her that must not be true, that her mother wouldn’t give her tasks without knowing she could do them right, but you learn that her mother doesn’t know. Bela has never said a word about these feelings she has in fear of becoming a disappointment and letting her mother down. So, she allows them to pile up until she has nightmares of everything cracking at her fingertips and there is nothing left of her.

Perhaps that is why she has taken such a liking to you. You’re something new, something predictable for her.

And maybe, just maybe, you make her feel real.

“It’s strange,” she tells you, fiddling with her gloved hands next to you, “to feel excitement at the idea of seeing you again.”

Your heart stutters in your chest. “That is odd, I agree. Don’t you have friends up there? People you can rely on outside of a stranger you tried to kill?”

She huffs a laugh and turns her soft gaze to you, her eyelids drooping as her golden eyes glow a little brighter. There’s a slight flush to her cheeks. “Not really. They’re just like you once were; terrified of what they didn’t understand. I prefer it, but it is lonely.” She pauses, and you could swear you see the wheels turning behind her eyes. “What changed? You allow me in so easily.”

You swallow and turn your head away, averting your eyes to the reality of your situation. It was foolish. You were an idiot for continuing to let her in your home, to treat her as though she was a long-lost friend you were catching up with.

It was difficult to place these feelings in your chest. How did you go about explaining to anyone the way you felt about her? The way her smile caused your heart to flip, how her laugh made your breath stutter in your chest, and how her attention solely on you brought scorching heat to your cheeks.

It’s a fake answer you give her, something to placate her while you ponder what the fuck you’ve gotten yourself into.

“You spared me.”

Two weeks after what you thought was a very difficult realization for you and your own mind, Bela offers to take you to her castle once more. You hesitate, of course, but for some stupid reason, you agree to follow her.

You try to block out the thoughts and feelings that you were going to die and she had done all of this to kill you, but they’re rather adamant that you understand how much danger you’re in. It had been weeks since your first encounter in the castle, roughly around the same time of night, too.

The evening was much warmer than previous ones had been, but you knew that meant nothing. Even still, you remained close to Bela’s side, hand resting on the gun at your hip. She allowed it this once to ease your mind, but she told you never again if it was to become a regular occurrence.

Not that you thought it would be.

Through her gifts of food and vials, your shoulder had healed better than you thought it would. It still ached when you moved it too fast or strained it, but for the most part, you had all feeling back.

It left a gnarly scar, but at least you had your life in return.

She leads you through a path to the castle, one that is much quicker than the one you took. It takes little time to see the massive entryway, something you only vaguely remember escaping from. At least the window had been replaced. Oops.

As Bela opens the door quietly and peeks her head inside, you ask her, “Is there a reason we only meet at night? I always forget to bring it up.”

“I’m too pretty for your mortal brain,” she teases, gesturing for you to follow her. Even still, you feel a sense of urgency with her. She’s quieter than usual, and with the way her brows are furrowed, you wonder if she’s worried. “I’m… too busy during the day.”

A lie, plain as day, but you don’t press her. The way she averts her eyes and tugs at the hem of her glove tells you all you need to know.

Now that you were a welcome guest in her home, you take a moment to look around. It’s extravagant. The marble floor beneath your feet is shiny enough to nearly see your reflection, and statues of knights are scattered about in corners of the large room. A small fireplace lights the room up more, and you see gold trinkets placed on the shelf above it.

She was rich, by the looks of it. It was no wonder she could afford to bring you food and other little things that would take weeks for you to buy.

She leads you through the castle, and you’re unsure at what point she had grabbed onto your coat sleeve to tug you around. Not that you necessarily minded, but it was the most she had touched you since that night. It feels so different.

It takes only a few minutes, but eventually, she pauses outside a door with women mid-dance on the frame. It looks hand-sculpted and it’s adorned with gold around the edges.

What have you gotten yourself into?

Bela opens the door slowly, and you could swear she holds her breath as she does so. Inside, you see a grand room shining from candles and the chandelier above a piano. On a small side table sits two chairs and what looks like a meal, as well as-

Someone is sitting in one of the chairs.

You’re not entirely sure how you didn’t notice them; perhaps it was the darkness of their clothes, the way they seemed to melt into their surroundings. A few bugs buzzed around their form, but aside from that, you couldn’t tell a thing about them.

Bela, however, must have known immediately. She steps in front of you, blocking you from the person’s line of sight, but your presence is already known. She says something in Romanian to the other person, and she’s met with a loud, dramatic sigh.

You instinctively reach for your gun at your hip, but you suspect you won’t need it. The two of them speak for a few moments with Bela growing more and more agitated by the second, but the other doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest. If anything, they come across as giddy to be arguing with her.

Bela makes a noise of frustration and turns to you, her gaze hard. “This is my sister. She won’t harm you, despite her appearance.”

Your gaze flicks to the other person, heart pausing in your chest when she wiggles her fingers at you and stands. She stretches her arms high above her head, knocking her hood back in the process. You see strong, sharp features and a visible scar on the left side of her head, barely cutting through her dark hair. She’s… something. You saw her in the village, didn’t you?

Bela tugs on your jacket sleeve as she walks toward the chairs, smacking her sister none too lightly and earning a smack in return. The two glare at each other for a moment before her sibling says something in a low tone, only for Bela to grab a nearby book and fling it at her. She then snaps out something harsh and points toward the door you were standing awkwardly at.

Out of fear more than anything else, you stumble away when she groans and walks toward the door, a few bugs buzzing around her shoulders. She deforms the closer she gets, but before she fully leaves the room, she takes the opportunity to jab you right where your wound was in your shoulder. You hiss and swat at her half-heartedly, something she pauses at as she stares down at you, her golden eyes dark and dull.

You’re unsure what she says to you, but it doesn’t sound nice. Especially when Bela snaps at her again and threatens her with yet another book grasped in her hand.

Her sister waves her away and snorts at you, leaving the room with no urgency.

Bela sighs and set the book down, fidgeting with her gloves before removing them from her hands. “Have you eaten?” she quietly asks. “I figured you might enjoy a warm meal this time.”

Your heart stutters in your chest, and part of you wishes it wouldn’t. Was it not morally wrong of you to even be here after what she had done to you?

But didn’t she earn her forgiveness? She left those vials for you to heal and to rid the infection from your body, and on top of that, she continued visiting to give you fresh food and clothing, as well as her company so you didn’t go insane. You hadn’t even been to the village since she had nestled her way into your life.

You hadn’t forgotten why you were here in the first place, but… As more days passed, the less confident you felt in the feeling he was still alive. Wouldn’t you have found something by now? He would have come to you or you would have seen him or-

“Little one?” Ah. You hadn’t answered. “Are you… Cassandra won’t do anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You take in a deep breath and shake your head, trying your best to reassure her with a small smile. “It’s all right. You’ll protect me, right? My knight in shining armor?”

Her cheeks flush a deep red at that, but she nods nonetheless. You move to sit by her on one of the chairs, and it’s so soft. You understand how Cassandra had just melted into it.

She must have prepared this right before she came to see you. What if you hadn’t accepted her little proposal? You’d still have leftovers from previous nights she’s brought you food, but all of this would have gone to waste.

You swallow and inspect the plated food. A decent-sized piece of meat drizzled with some sort of dark sauce rests in the middle of the plate, and you see bread and vegetables laid out around it. A full meal, it would seem.

Bela sits next to you, sipping on what you assume is a glass of wine from the smell. You almost ask her if the meat was human as a joke, but you decide against it when you notice how nervous she looks. Her gaze remains on you, but when you meet it, her eyes flick away and she shifts in her seat.

“You didn’t have to,” you tell her, your voice quiet. “But… thank you.”

She lets out a long breath. “Of course. It was the least I could do.”

You notice there’s no plate for her, so when you pick up the bread, you hand her a piece. Her eyes are wide and she looks to you as if asking for reassurance, and you simply gesture to it again. Ever so gently – as though she were afraid to touch you – she takes the piece and stares at it, brows furrowed.

“All this because I didn’t shoot you one time?” you ask, your curiosity spiking when she remains staring at the piece of bread. What was she doing? “It must have really meant a lot to you.”

She waits until you bite into your bread to eat hers. “That’s not the only reason. You’re-“ She pauses, closing her eyes for a moment. “We’re friends, aren’t we? Don’t they do things like this?”

You huff a laugh, your confusion only growing. “You could call us that, yes.” You watch as she bites little pieces out of the bread, refusing to look at you. “You’ve… had friends before, haven’t you?”

“Obviously,” she answers, but her tone doesn’t sound so sure. “You’re different.”

“In what way?”

She gives you a flat look, but you’re really not understanding what she’s getting at. Regardless, she doesn’t seem to want to talk about it, so you think of a way to change the subject.

As you dig in to the vegetables, your mind drifts. You ask her, “How is your body able to become bugs? I’ve never been able to figure that out.”

She hums almost sadly and ducks her head, her blonde hair falling into her face. You resist the urge to move it. “It’s a long story. I’m sure you don’t want to hear it that badly.”

You shrug and shove a spoonful into your mouth. You try to speak to her with food in your mouth, but she takes one of her gloves laying on the table and smacks the top of your head with it. When you’re done (and after glaring at her a little, the brat), you tell her, “I want to. I like hearing your voice.”

You really were digging yourself a deeper grave, weren’t you?

Ugh.

Bela laughs and leans back in her chair, relaxing more and more by the second. Her arms remain crossed over her stomach, and though she has a slight flush to her cheeks, she tells you her tale.

It’s… difficult to hear.

She tells you how she awoke one day as though it was her first time being alive, how she couldn’t control much of her muscles or body. Flies would buzz around her ears and head, though when she would smack one away from her, part of her skin would sting.

It wasn’t until she went to her mother that she learned anything. She was told it was an accident, that what was done to her only happened to save her. She’s never quite fully believed her mother, considering how her siblings had come to be, but she had no proof otherwise.

She was… an experiment. And she doesn’t tell you much about the process or who conducted it – something about Mother Miranda, you think – but you gather it was distressing to talk about. More of her bugs buzzed around her face and her body as she spoke, and she only seemed to calm when you gently said her name as tears streaked down her cheeks.

She stared at you for a while after that, quiet but processing. You’d wanted to touch her, to take her in your arms and comfort her despite the person she was, but you refrained.

Bela told you she remembered nothing of her past life and she had no idea who she really was. The only thing she knew when she first woke was this aching hunger she could only satisfy by drinking human blood or eating human meat.

And she tells you that she doesn’t expect you to want anything to do with her after learning what she is, but you remain seated, listening intently.

It was the flies, she said. In order for her to continue living and not starve to death, she did what she had to. Part of her enjoyed it; you knew that from your first interactions with her. She liked the chase, enjoyed feeling like she had some semblance of control.

But she was also surprised at the content feelings in her chest when you had gotten the upper hand. She was furious – both at herself for allowing it to get that far and at you for outsmarting her – but she was happy, too. She had finally met her match, someone that saw her for what she was worth and not for the money or status she had to offer. Someone who made her feel human again.

That night, she’d said, made her feel like you had snapped her out of a decade-long daze.

It broke your heart.

You know you should have run away, should have called her a monster and never spoke to her again, but you couldn’t. You understood why you never shot at her that night, aside from the fear you felt.

You saw part of yourself in her.

You were simply on opposite ends of life. She had everything she could ever want, and yet, she felt so lonely. You had nothing but the skin on your back and your few prized possessions, but even after all this fighting and all these hellish days, you were the same helpless person you were when your brother was around.

You felt ungrateful. Here she was, offering you food and safety for the price of your company, and you felt as though it wasn’t enough. You could never give her anything that would equate to what she has done for you.

What was wrong with you?

“I’m sorry,” is all you can say. The candles have nearly burnt out by now, and the room has become incredibly dark. “I don’t… Are you all right?”

She hums beside you. “I’m better. And I’m beginning to understand my books a little more each day I spend with you.”

You’re unsure what she means by that, but you don’t press her. She’s relived enough tonight.

You sit in a comfortable silence for a time, but after a while, another question pops into your mind. Your gaze is fixed on that large piano. “Do you play any instruments? I assume you brought me here for a reason outside of it being private enough.”

She shifts in her seat. “Several, actually. I could play them for you one night, if you-“

One of the doors opens on the other end, and you freeze in your chair. You assume Cassandra has come back to annoy her older sister, but it seems to be a servant that peeks her head inside the room. You see enough of her to get an image in your mind of what she looks like; tied-back brown hair, pale skin, and soft features. She almost steps fully inside, but when she sees who is sitting by the candlelight, she pauses and her eyes widen.

Bela stands from her chair and snaps something out at the woman who squeaks and backs out of the door as quickly as she had come. An odd thing to do, all things considered, but you tried to pay it no mind.

She sighs and turns back to you, her brows furrowed. “It’s late. I should… let you go.”

Despite her words, she doesn’t budge. Instead, she remains staring at the floor, clearly thinking something over.

You stand and stretch, yawning as you do so. “I can get home from here, if you have prior commitments.” Her eyes droop and she glares daggers at you. “Oh, don’t be like that. You’re a lady, after all. You have duties to tend to.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to do them.”

“No, but you have to.” You begin making your way to the door you had entered just hours ago. “Come on. The least you could do is walk me to your door.”

She snorts at that, but remains quiet as she moves closer to you, walking right by your side. She leads you through the castle once more, and the air between the two of you feels… different. You’re not afraid of her; as of late, she’s given you no reason to be.

And she’s honest with you about who she is and what she does. Truthfully, it should have disgusted you, should have made you sick to think about… You weren’t sure what was wrong with you. Perhaps her kindness clouded your judgement.

It does make you wonder if she or her family had anything to do with your brother’s disappearance, but she would tell you, wouldn’t she? Considering you were friends of some sort.

To her credit, she does walk you back to the large door, though most of the light has dimmed by now. You do see Cassandra sitting in that first large room, seemingly asleep at first, but when you walk closer, her head barely lifts and her eyes peek open. She watches you until you’re passed her, but you could swear you still feel her eyes on you.

At the door, you pause to glance behind you, gazing at the large painting lit by two torches beside it. Now that you’ve been spending so much time with her, the tallest of the three in the painting looks just like Bela. Was this who she had been before her experiment?

She tugs on your coat sleeve again, regaining your attention easily. “You’ll be all right?”

You smile and pat your side, right where your gun rests. You still weren’t used to it, nor did you think you were ever going to be. You never were a fighter, were you?

Perhaps that was why you had taken to Bela so easily.

“I’ve run through that forest alone and bleeding before, you know. I’ll be fine.”

She nods, but she doesn’t release your coat. “Am I… May I see you again?”

You’re not entirely sure what causes you to say it, but quietly, you tell her, “I’d be a little offended if you didn’t.”

She smiles brighter at that, but it’s clear she struggles to keep it contained. After clearing her throat, she gives your coat a final tug and releases it. “Go on, then. I may end up dragging you back to the Opera Hall if you don’t leave.”

“A tempting offer. You sure know how to entice someone.” You wiggle your brows at her, laughing when she swats at you and shoves you away from her. “I’ll see you soon? Maybe I’ll show off my hunt next time.”

“I would like that.”

With a small wave, you descend the stone steps, similarly to how you had done what felt like an eternity ago. The night air is still rather warm, an odd thing for the season, and that makes it all the easier to make your way back to your home, lit only by the moon high in sky.

When you arrive back at your little shack, you feel much lighter than you have in weeks.

It was a strange feeling.

Those nights continued for another month.

It wasn’t every night Bela came to visit you; most nights, you were left alone, impatiently waiting despite your best efforts to stay busy. She was under no obligation to take you back to her home every night, and part of you hated that you missed her.

It was because she was the only person you could talk to. It had been cemented in your mind that your brother was dead – there was no way he had survived this long without you knowing anything about him. Some thought deep in your mind wondered if he had made it out, if he had found a way back to your old home.

That same bit of your mind knew he would have waited for you, same as you were doing for him. He wouldn’t have left you alone here, not unless he knew you were dead.

You wanted to leave, truthfully. Between everything that had happened and your very confusing feelings for Bela that were steadily forming… Ugh. It was vexing to you to find her pretty and stunning.

You were now sitting in Bela’s room, late into the night. Morning? Whatever.

You had asked her two weeks ago to teach you Romanian – that way, you could better speak with the villagers and maybe even her family. Her sisters, at the very least. You’d noticed Daniela tended to hang around more often; she would sit with you in the Opera Hall after Bela had begrudgingly allowed her inside, talking to you with words you could barely understand. You could often gather what she was going on about, considering how often she spoke with her hands.

And she was good company, even pretending to understand what you were saying on the rare chance you were allowed to speak. Not that she didn’t let you, but you were more than content to listen to her while Bela made faces at you from the piano’s bench, practicing little numbers.

Cassandra didn’t visit quite as often. If she did, it was solely to pester Bela until something was thrown at her or she was shoved out. The kissing noises she would make and the imagery with her hands was all you needed to know what she was teasing her older sister about.

You paid no mind to the heat on your cheeks when she would do that.

Because you could never really have a single night of privacy – something Bela said was from her sisters’ curiosity about you – she had moved your nights alone to her room. That was where you’d begun learning Romanian, and where you were now resting at her desk, your arms crossed on the wood and your head lowered.

She had been reading somewhere behind you on her bed, happy to answer any questions you had.

It was just tiring. As much as you wanted to be here with her – ugh – you were exhausted. You didn’t want to admit it, but most days (even the ones she hadn’t visited), you stayed awake until you no longer could and woke when some weird noise would spook you. Despite everything that had happened, you felt safe with her.

She had come to make you realize she would keep you safe. Even if she intended to kill you at the end of your relationship with her, for the moment, she did everything she could to ensure the longevity of your life.

And she was… sweet and attentive. Nothing like the woman you knew months ago, the one who took joy in trying to kill you.

She’d mentioned time and time again you saw her for who she really was. You had been the reason she was snapped out of her daze, the reason she wanted to become better, if only a little.

It was working. She had even infested your dreams and only made them more pleasant upon waking. You would remember being held by her and-

You tried your best not to remember every detail. How annoying.

You feel yourself drifting off, your physical body detaching from your mental one easily. You would need to leave soon, considering you weren’t supposed to stay in the castle long, but-

A gentle hand rests on your shoulder, and it takes everything in you to not react. It’s a struggle to keep your breathing deep and rhythmic, though your rapidly beating heart may very well give you away.

It must be Bela, but why would she only touch you when she assumed you were asleep?

She mumbles something to you in Romanian, though you can barely understand her. Little snippets here and there, but she must be using more complex words than what you’ve learned so far. Or you may truly be too tired to fully understand her.

You were making great progress, though knowing two languages previously helped immensely.

Her calloused fingers brush against your neck, then down your cheek. You can’t help the shiver that runs down your spine at the feeling, and despite your best efforts not to, you lean in to her touch. What was wrong with you?

Ugh!

You sigh and lift your head, and out of what you assume is a knee-jerk fear, she quiets immediately. You blink your eyes open, but even still, your vision is bleary around the edges.

Bela leans against her desk, bringing her hand back to cross her arms over her chest. “I’ll take you back,” is all she says.

You don’t deny her. Especially when she touches you so softly, her hands on you secure but gentle. She wraps your arm around her waist as you walk with her, your head heavy on her shoulder.

And when you arrive to your little home, she ensures you’re tucked in and you have water on the floor next to you, just enough distance away that you won’t tip it over in your sleep.

You think you must imagine it, but you could swear you felt her kiss the top of your head. The feeling is there and gone again before you could truly process it, but you think that’s what she did. Why would she? Did she…

Did she feel the same about you? Those confusing feelings you had… Were they shared by her?

You were simply too tired to ponder over what it meant.

A week later, you find yourself back in her room.

She had been taking you more frequently since you’d almost fallen asleep; that meant you were with her most nights and utterly lonely when she wasn’t around.

Thankfully, though, you had gotten a little better at communicating with the villagers and her sisters. You still had no idea who her mother was or if you would ever get to meet her – probably not – but you were content where you were.

Cassandra continues to be a nuisance to Bela, but on the rare chance she’s left alone with you – the very rare chance – she does talk with you. It’s simple things; she must know you won’t be able to understand her fully.

She doesn’t tell you much. The most she says is that you were lucky she hadn’t been the one to find you that night – that if it was her or if she had found you after what you’d done to her sister – you wouldn’t be having that conversation.

At least she was clear.

But she mentioned that she also knew what you meant to Bela and for that, you were safe from her. You didn’t bother asking what she meant by that, but afterward, she proceeded to use all her moments with you to bother you. A flick to the temple here, and not-so-playful shove there.

Ugh.

Daniela, on the other hand, was much friendlier. The only reason you couldn’t quite understand her was because of how often she changed her line of thought. She would jump from one topic to another with little transition between, but she didn’t seem to mind when you would smile or laugh or simply nod at her words.

During the brief times she would see you, she’d often gift you little flowers or plant-based jewelry she would make herself. Your reactions of grins and enthusiastic thanks lit up her face and her strange, glowing eyes.

You were now reciting Romanian to her despite your struggle to do so. She’d given you a written passage to speak back to her, and after you did so, you were to translate it so that you understood the words and how they went together. You thought you were doing a decent job so far.

“…jumped when she saw the fox,” you say, your eyes blurry from exhaustion. Ugh. “It watched her… carefully? Easily?”

“Cautiously,” she corrects. “You’re doing better, little one. Continue.”

With heat stinging your cheeks, you do as she says. “What was the rabbit meant to do? The fox would surely chase her if she left, but she had no other option.”

You glance back at Bela to ensure you should keep going, only to be met with a bright smile and a nod. It’s all the encouragement you needed, and thankfully, you only had two sentences left.

“Her mind told her not to, but the rabbit ran out of fear of the fox. It was not long before it chased after her, and once again, they played their game of life and death.”

“You’ve done so well,” she tells you in a low voice, and you try your best not to let her words dictate your reaction. “Come. I want to show you something.”

Despite your exhaustion and your want to go home to sleep, you follow after her without much resistance. This late into the night – morning? – the castle was much quieter. Although you tried your best to ignore it, the feeling in your chest was oddly similar to how it had been that very first night you were within these walls.

Bela was different, and so were you.

She leads you from her room through the various winding halls in her home, always keeping you just at her side. She doesn’t say anything, but you know that with you sort of being a secret, she didn’t want to bring any attention to you or herself.

You do wonder what happened to that servant, but you assumed it better for your own conscience you didn’t know.

Eventually, you find yourself stopping when she does outside of a door you hadn’t seen before, even in passing. You hear her take a deep breath, and when she opens it, you’re met with shelves and shelves of books inside a massive library.

The moon’s light peeks in from a large window in the ceiling, illuminating a sitting area littered with soft-looking chairs, loose pages, half-open books, and teacups. It looks as though it’s frequently used, and you assume it must mean something to Bela if she had waited so long to show you.

“Choose something,” she quietly says, settling her hand on your lower back and pushing slightly. You take it as a silent encouragement. “As my gift to you for doing so well… You can take any book you’d like.”

You blink and turn to face her, your brows furrowing. “That’s… Are you allowed to?”

She shrugs one shoulder and leaves your side, looking around the library. “Daniela is the only one to come in here, and she won’t notice a single book missing. Unless it’s one of hers, but you don’t strike me as an avid reader of cheesy romance.”

You hum a laugh and begin to venture. “Not particularly.” A thought snakes its way into your mind, and you smile before you speak. “I prefer the reality of it.”

It was fun, you had to admit. And it did help you process what you were feeling; the pros and cons to the decision you had been slowly – very slowly – coming to.

You… felt something more for her, you knew. The way she treated you with such kindness, the fact that she went out of her way to ensure you were taken care of and had someone to talk to, despite what she had done…

You were in deep, and you would be lying if you said that there were certain images left in your head after dreams you’d had of her.

It was annoying, but you knew she was no longer the person you once knew. Why would she spend weeks – months – doing all of this if she was going to kill you, in the end? She was fully capable of already doing so and your death would have made no difference to anyone. Your doubts were still there, yes, but it was easier to shove them down when you knew she could have killed you many times, and yet, she didn’t.

Bela makes a curious noise, following after you but remaining a good distance away. “Do you… have someone waiting for you? In your old home or in the village, perhaps?”

Ah. You know what she’s doing.

“None that I can think of. I’ve always been a bit of an outcast in both places, so…” You glance at her, noting the way she carefully watches you. “Why do you ask?”

She turns her head away, her blonde hair covering some of her face, but you could swear you saw the red on her cheeks. “No reason, little one. I wasn’t sure if you had made friends during your stay.”

It’s a struggle to contain your smile. “That’s a little difficult to do when I’m exhausted during the day. I have this lady I spend my nights with, after all. She’s…” For only a moment, she glances at you, brows furrowed. “Well, she’s rather stunning. I would hope she’s waiting for me most nights, unless my company is that vexing.”

She clears her throat and steps closer, keeping her head bowed. Oh, you’ve got her now. “Not at all. She should consider herself lucky someone such as you would want to spend your time around her.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from grinning. She’s certainly something else when she’s nervous like this. “’Someone like me’? Whatever does that mean?”

Bela fidgets with the hem of her sleeve, and her breath hitches when you take a step closer. “Someone… kind. Forgiving. Even…” A muscle in her jaw twitches the closer you move to her. “Your features are in the right places, at least.”

You pause, your confusion growing for a moment. Without thinking, you grin and snort at what you assume is her attempt at a joke. “You’re adorable. Are these the lines you’ve used before?”

Her cheeks, if possible, turn a much darker shade. “Not at all. You’re different. I feel as though I… I want something, but I don’t know if-“

“Perhaps you and I have the same thoughts.” You tilt your head to the side, studying her. How could someone you once found so utterly terrifying look so small? How could your feelings about her change so drastically? “Go on. What is it you want?”

Her eyes flick down, and that’s how you know you’ve got her. You’d never really done this before; not to this extent, anyway, and not when everything was so confusing. “I don’t want to ruin this. To have a friend, someone I can rely on…”

“I won’t leave,” you gently tell her, taking the last step into her personal space. She doesn’t seem to mind. “Whatever happens, I’ll be with you. Isn’t that what we both want?”

Fuck. That look in her eyes tells you all you need to know.

Her eyelids have drooped and her eyes are glowing softly against the relative darkness in the library. It’s late and you know you should leave-

But Bela has other plans.

Without much warning, she reaches forward, grasping your face between her calloused hands as she pulls you flush against her body. Her soft lips find yours easily, and though you’re way out of practice, she remains pressed against you.

Your hands are useless at your sides, your eyes wide for a moment. You’re frozen in place – not out of fear or regret, but it’s like your body just can’t move. Are you… panicking?

She leans her head back slightly, her cheeks flushed and your own burning quickly. You stare at her as she looks away, toward the floor.

Oh, you’re in deep.

You don’t give her a chance to think about regretting this as you grab both of her wrists, her head lifting when you do so. You stand on your tiptoes to kiss her again and again, finding yourself addicted to the way she feels against you.

Something was definitely wrong with you, but the longer you remained with her – the longer she held you so tightly against her – the less you found you cared.

Two weeks pass in a bliss.

It’s like you’ve been granted another side to Bela, one filled with such softness. You didn’t know what you had been missing out on until that night, and from there, it became better.

She touched you more often – little caresses, holding your hand while she read… It was very easy to fall for her.

And even easier on the nights you would lie in her bed with her, content beneath her as she touched and kissed you. It was like every touch of her skin on yours brought you back to life, and you found yourself craving her. It was embarrassing, but when she would greet you with a bright grin and a quick kiss, you knew she felt the same.

With winter leaving and spring melting its way through the ground, the air became much warmer. It wasn’t uncommon for both of you to sit outside before a storm rolled in, and by then, she allowed you inside her room until it passed.

Most nights, that was where you stayed. There were times you fell asleep together and others you simply stayed awake and talked. It was about anything, really; you told her about your plans, what you had wanted to do once you were out of the grasp of your parents, and why part of you wanted to stay.

It wasn’t logical. You had nothing here; your brother, although likely dead, was still missing and your life was where your parents were. You didn’t doubt some deep down instinct in them wondered what happened to you, but after everything, you found you didn’t care.

You were free there, as Bela had put it. You were taken care of and now that you could speak to the villagers, you could make friends. She even mentioned that she could try to find a way for you to live and work with her in the castle, if you so wished, but you’d told her you would think more on it.

All of it was so confusing, and you spent your waking moments without her pondering everything. Was it worth it to stay? There was more to uncover, certainly, but was it worth it?

Bela, on the other hand, told you about her days and how exhausted she was from tending to her duties and her mother’s. There was one such day you were allowed in the castle during the day, though you were not permitted to leave her side for anything. Strange, yes, but you trusted she had good intentions.

Cassandra had teased you the entire day, flinging little bits of paper at you as she doodled on what looked like a journal. Daniela made you a flower crown in the courtyard as you ate lunch with all of them, gently placing it on your head as though it were made of diamonds.

You’d settled into a bit of a routine. If she was able, Bela would visit during the day and you’d show her your new renovations to your home or what you had caught (mostly to see the proud look in her eyes, despite telling you what you could do better). At night, she would bring you back to her home, either to help you learn her native language or to play something on one of her instruments for you.

When the sun was out and she visited, she would often nap on your small bed while you organized or finished up some projects around your home. You knew she didn’t sleep much; she’d told you her routine started early and she tried to nap throughout the day before she saw you, but that wasn’t always possible. In those instances, you didn’t mind to keep yourself busy in her room or curl up with her, only to have her grab onto you like a child would their favorite toy.

It was how you were laid out now. Bela had fallen asleep some time ago, half of her body on you and the other half on the bed. Her leg was spread over your hips while her arm stretched across your chest, her head tucked into your shoulder and neck.

She was cold. Did that have to do with the flies she could turn into?

Your mind didn’t bother thinking further on the subject. You would ask her if you needed to, but you didn’t see the importance of it.

With the low light and your own tired mind, you find your eyelids struggling to remain open. They’ve become increasingly heavy by the minute, and it wouldn’t be long before you could no longer resist sleep’s comforting arms.

What a life you lived. It was nothing like you had expected all those months ago.

But you should have known it wouldn’t last forever.

Nothing ever did.

A week and a half later, you’re in the Opera Hall with all three Dimitrescu sisters, lounging in one of the soft chairs near a wall. Bela and Cassandra were arguing over something you weren’t bothered to listen to, and Daniela sat next to you, legs crossed with a book in her hands.

She would glance at her sisters every now and again, but she remained quiet.

After a while, Bela sighs in frustration and turns to you, arms crossed. She simply watches you for a few moments, and by the way her expressions change, she must be fighting with herself.

She shakes her head with a small smile and walks closer, reaching a hand out to grasp your shoulder and squeeze. Cassandra looks none too happy about anything, but you try to pay her no mind.

You weren’t even entirely sure why her sisters decided to accompany you, but you didn’t feel it was your right to question it. This was their home, after all.

“You should be going soon,” Bela says, leaning down to quickly kiss the top of your head. “The maids have started rumors, apparently, and I’m not sure you want to face Mother yet. I would prefer not to.”

You hum. “Not particularly. I’ll see you soon, though?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t want to-“

“Oh!” Daniela exclaims, snapping her book closed as she struggles to get off her chair in her dress. She startles you slightly.

She digs through its pockets – it has pockets – and you look up at Bela in confusion, something she seems to mimic. It’s only Cassandra that must know what’s going on, as she says her sister’s name and moves toward her, her flies buzzing.

She speaks Romanian as she talks to you again, making a face as she struggles to pull something out. How much could she carry? “I meant to give this to you before you left. It broke with someone we were-“

Cassandra snaps out her name again, her voice echoing through the many flies her body breaks into, but Daniela has already pulled the necklace out of her pocket. Bela’s hand clenches hard on your shoulder, and even though she tries to snag it out of her youngest sister’s hand, it’s too late.

You’ve already seen it.

It looked exactly like your brother’s necklace he always wore; it was made of bone, chiseled into the shape of a circle with a hole in the middle. You remembered watching him carve it on your parents’ porch when you were a child, and it’s so-

You’re frozen to your chair as Bela and Cassandra both snap at Daniela over the damned thing, though she appears so confused until she sees your face, but you can’t hear them. Their loud voices are muffled against your ears as you try to understand, but nothing makes any sense. She would have told you. Wouldn’t she?

She would have.

It must be a mistake. Perhaps they found it on someone that had stolen it from him? If they were his killer and not the very woman you had-

You’re going to be sick.

“Let me see it,” you say, and though your voice is quiet, everyone is silenced despite their yelling.

All three watch you carefully, and it’s Bela that lowers the necklace for you to look at. She doesn’t fight when you take it from her.

The cool bone lays in your palm, twined to the fabric chord by twisted metal. It’s not exactly like his, no, but that same chip in its side, that same scratch… You would know it anywhere.

They must have repaired it.

Fuck.

“I don’t understand,” you mumble, feeling everything and nothing all at once. You feel their eyes on you, but you refuse to look at them. “Where did you find this?”

You could have easily explained it away by telling yourself they had taken it from a thief, but what of their reactions? Why would Bela and Cassandra both not want you to see it?

What was going on?

“It was…” Bela is the one to tell you, but she hesitates. “Little one, I didn’t-“

“It was me,” Cassandra interrupts. Your eyes flick up to her, and though you try to glare, she doesn’t back down. If anything, she lifts her chin as her eyes harden. “He trespassed in our home, same as you, and he was not quite as lucky.”

Your stomach turns and you’re going to vomit-

He suffered the fate you almost did.

He was gone.

But you knew that, didn’t you? You had come to that realization a long time ago; why was this so different?

Because they knew they killed your brother and they said nothing. All of them knew and they treated you as if they knew nothing.

They treated you as if you were a friend, and Bela-

Fuck!

You swallow and move to stand, and none of them stop you. The necklace is held tight in your hand as you struggle to breathe-

“You killed him.” Your hands shake and tears prick your eyes. “He was here and-“

“It was all of us. He was an intruder on our grounds, and we gave him time to leave.” It’s Bela that speaks, standing tall next to her younger sister. Daniela has shrunk behind them, making herself as little as possible. Through some small faith you have in her, you wanted to think she did this without malice. “He wouldn’t listen. What were we meant to do?”

She speaks English, and you wonder if she does it so her sisters can’t understand what she’s saying. “You could have spared him-“

“Because of what? I didn’t know you existed, nor that you were connected until I met you.” Her face has hardened immensely, but her eyes tell you a different story. “And it’s been wonderful, truly, but-“

“You killed him!” you shout, probably louder than you should be. It’s difficult to contain your emotions, but you should, considering the way Cassandra reaches for the sickle at her side. “You knew and you didn’t tell me. You let me touch you and-and kiss you-“

“I didn’t want you to know.” Her words are harsh against your ears, and you barely refrain from taking a step back. “I… realize the errors of my ways, but even if you accepted who I was, you would leave when you knew what happened.” She swallows, lifting her chin slightly, and you wonder if it’s a false bravado. “I didn’t want you to. I was finally understood.”

“You were selfish.” You do take a few steps back at that, though only Daniela makes a move to stop you. Cassandra puts her arm out, preventing her from taking another step. “If I had known, I…”

There’s nothing left to say. If you had known, you would have tried harder to leave. You would have found your way out of this damned village if it was the last thing you did.

You can’t deny how lucky you were, though. Despite your brother’s fate at hers and her sisters’ hands, she continued to keep you safe and feed you, grant you companionship when you were outcast from everyone else. Without her kindness, you would have died in this village, same as him.

You could thank her for that, but you did not have to stay.

Without saying another word, you turn on your heel and leave. You don’t run; there was no point in making this worse or bringing unnecessary attention to yourself. Your legs bring you through the castle and through hallways you’ve walked plenty of times before, all while tears blur in your eyes and stream down your cheeks.

You clench the necklace as hard as you can in your hand until it leaves what feels like a dent in your palm.

The wind has picked up outside when you push through the large iron door to the front entrance, and you allow your muscle memory to guide you back to your home, alone.

You shove any thoughts of her out of your head; they try to tell you that she didn’t know and that you should have listened to her, but how were you meant to do that when everything hurt and nothing made sense?

How could she do that to you?

When you make it to your little home, a gentle rain has started, misting your windows and the earth around you. Inside, you collapse onto your bed, allowing your sobs to overtake you as you cling to your brother’s necklace, completely and utterly alone.

How fitting.

You process everything slowly.

The last few months play in your mind like a broken record, repeating moments and skipping over others. You should’ve known.

Truthfully, your mind is stuck in two parts: on the one hand, you had no way of knowing. Yes, it made sense when all the pieces were put together and you did have your suspicions, but you trusted her. You thought she would tell you if she had done such a thing, and you felt all the more a fool for never questioning it.

Your companionship with her and how she took care of you blinded you to reality.

On the other hand, you feel you should’ve put the pieces together much sooner. Her reactions to your mentions of him, who she was, the fact he had been missing for so long…

Ugh.

Though you weren’t proud of it, you had thrown quite a tantrum when everything hit you the day after you’d been given his necklace. You completely destroyed very little – mostly pencils or flower jewelry that had already been close to rotting. The guilt that lingered in your mind after was quickly shoved down.

Daniela had given the necklace to you as a gift, and it didn’t seem she knew the implications of it until it had already happened. She wasn’t aware it was his and thought it simply a pretty necklace to give to her friend. You admired her for that, truly, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of disgust in your bones.

You weren’t… entirely sure what to do. It was obvious you should have tried to leave, but you didn’t know if you had that in you anymore. What was the point in returning to your parents without your brother? What point was there in allowing that guilt that you could’ve done something fester as you traveled alone?

There was no guarantee you would even make it home by yourself. You had no map – lost with your other belongings somewhere in the village – and no way of contacting your parents. To the world, you were likely dead, same as him, and the thought had crossed your mind several times that it should’ve been you.

A silly thought, yes.

You now lay awake, staring at your ceiling as the moon shines brightly through a cracked window. It was cold and you felt so empty; in the span of mere minutes, you lost everything once more.

Perhaps that was simply your fate. Always left to lose what you had gained before you could stop it.

Someone has left packages by your door.

It’s obvious who it was, even if you tried not to think about it. Inside those little bags were your favorite foods, but nothing else. No notes, no hint as to who it may be, even if you knew better.

You were lost, plain and simple.

And truthfully, you weren’t sure if you would ever be right again.

You stop eating as much. Looking at the food that’s been brought to you causes your stomach to flip and your head to spike with pain. Was it the guilt? You had done your brother’s memory horribly; you had loved his killer.

What was wrong with you?

She has infested your nightmares once again, though it’s different now.

You’re brought back to an endless sequence of running while her hugs bite at your exposed skin and her taunting laugh haunts you. It echoes against the walls of your mind, ringing in your ears as you hear nothing else. On rarer occasions, you would watch as she tore you apart after loving you so desperately.

You were a shell of who you once had been.

What was left of you?

You’re unsure how much time has passed, or if any has passed at all. You go through your daily motions as though someone else were controlling your limbs and you were simply a passenger.

You blink, and you’re back inside when you had been out in the sun beneath a tree.

Strange.

On a particularly stormy night, you decide to try your luck. Equipped with your gun at your side and your axe in your hands, you make your way through the forest, knowing you would either make it out and back to civilization or you would die trying. You refused to stay any longer – not when the reminders of your lack of strength remained so close to you.

The rain and mist made it difficult for you to see far, and to make it worse, it muffled any sounds around you. Despite that, you knew you had to leave; you would only be worse off if you stayed in this fucking village.

You were an outcast to the people here, same as usual. Even when you tried speaking to some of them, they didn’t trust you as much as they had before. It made you wonder if word of yours and Bela’s friendship had gotten around. They certainly would have known who she was and what she did to people.

Ugh.

You wipe at the rain on your face with your coat sleeve – it was the only remnant of her you’d kept – and proceed. You had no clue where you were going, but even if you walked aimlessly for hours, surely you would find your way out eventually.

You weren’t sure what else you could do. Die by a wolf, maybe? Or of starvation?

Wasn’t it fitting?

You take a deep breath, your brows furrowing the more you walk. The ground beneath your boots was steadily becoming more treacherous to walk on, and you’d almost slipped a few times. It didn’t help that the heavy axe in your hands left you a little off-balance, but you hoped it would scare off any potential people looking to kill you.

You weren’t sure it would do much but continue to slow you down.

After what felt like days of wandering around in the cold rain, you pause. You were lost, and you could swear you’d seen that same tree with claw marks dug into it before. A certain fear had settled its way into your chest: you were going to die.

You’d made your peace with it, same as the other tragedies of your life. Your brother was gone, you had fallen for his killer, and now, you would waste away and become one with the earth again, unable to find your way back to a sense of safety.

Maybe your parents were right.

Maybe.

You lean the axe against the same tree and find shelter beneath it. Your clothes are completely soaked and you assume you look akin to a drowned rat.

The tree above you provides some shelter from the rain, though a few large drops still land directly on your head. It seemed to be just your luck.

You pull the gun at your side out of its holster, your brows furrowing when you look at it in your hands. It felt like an eternity ago you had used this with shaking limbs and breaths that left your body too quickly. Would you be able to use it again?

If you-

No, no. You erase that thought from your mind as quickly as it had come. You would not fall victim to your own doubts and guilt, as much as you may have wanted to in times of weakness.

You sink to your knees in the mud, bent over your only weapon as though it would grant you some relief.

You should go back. You should turn and leave before you caught your death out here; was it better to rot in silence or live knowing you could have done something more?

The logical side of you, though it’s been shoved deep, deep down, knows there was nothing you could have done to help your brother. In the scenarios your mind had played out for you, there was no chance of saving him. He had left of his own will that day, and you had no way of knowing if you could have prevented him from leaving regardless if you hadn’t gone for a walk.

He was gone, and that was that.

If Bela and Cassandra were to be believed – something you, surprisingly, didn’t have a hard time doing – he had gone to their land of his own volition, same as you. He had trespassed, and through some miracle, you did not suffer the same fate.

You were lucky it was just Bela that night and not Cassandra or Daniela. She certainly seemed the calmest of the three, all things considered. And despite your thoughts that you should have taken his place, you knew, deep down, he had made his own choices.

Perhaps he knew what you did not. If the villagers knew what the Dimitrescus did to people, maybe he heard and wanted to find them.

Ugh.

You take a deep, shaky breath, unable to truly think of what’s happened. You’ll never know the truth, no matter how hard you dig and search. You’ll hear Bela and her sisters’ tale of events, but you’ll never hear your brother’s.

You wished he would have left a note or something. But it could have been easier for him to disappear in such a way if you didn’t know what he was planning.

Maybe you should have seen it coming.

You just-

Your eyes flick down to your gun again as your vision blurs, your hands shaking and rattling the thing. You haven’t eaten and you’ve barely slept; those were the only reasons this was happening.

You don’t know what else to do. For the first time in your life, you have no direction and nobody to accompany you. It’s always been you and your brother, thick as thieves, even against the ignorance of your parents. What were you to do now?

The gun in your hand feels heavy. You take another deep breath and tilt it-

A twig snaps somewhere to your right, and despite your instincts, you slowly look over. A dark silhouette stands not far from you, some curved weapon in their hand, dangling at their side. They look just about as good as you feel, considering it seems as though their hood and cloak stick to them in the pouring rain.

Despite knowing who it is – who it could ever be – you raise the gun, and this time, your hand is no longer shaking.

You’re unsure how many bullets you have left, but maybe that didn’t matter.

She doesn’t budge, and you’re not sure why you expected her to. She remains standing close to you but just far enough away that she would get to you before you could do anything.

She’s learned.

“You should’ve let me go,” you mumble, uncaring of the tears that stream down your cheeks and sting your eyes. “All this time, you knew and… And what did it matter?”

She says nothing. You can only tell the way she blinks when her golden eyes disappear for a split second.

“I’ve been replaying it in my head and I don’t understand.” Your hand is beginning to shake now. You’re weak and exhausted. “You knew what he meant to me, and you don’t get to be the reason everything was taken from me.”

You’re speaking nonsense, you know. You’re not even sure she’s really there.

And it’s not fair to her. It wasn’t like she had done it to be cruel to you; she hadn’t even known him or you at the time of his death, and if you hadn’t spared her life that night, you would have been in the same grave.

You aren’t sure what to do.

“You allowed me to believe that there was something between us despite your – our – upbringings, but this? How could you?”

You sob that last part out unwillingly. You want nothing more than to crawl into a ball and sink into the ground, especially with how violently your hand is shaking.

Without much thought, you lower the gun to the muddy ground, shoving it away from you as you bend over your knees. Your eyes squeeze closed and your nails dig into the wetness beneath you, rain and tears dripping from your face.

You expect her to do something, anything, but instead, when you lift your head, you see nothing. It’s like she was never there to begin with, and you wonder if that single instance was her departure to you or if you were truly insane.

Both, maybe. It was difficult to tell when everything was so muddled.

The realization that you are once again alone and lost in woods you no longer recognize causes you to panic. You sink further to the ground as you sob your heart out, pain being the only thing you feel in your chest. It aches and stings and you want it to stop.

You want to feel like you again, and you wonder if such a thing is even attainable.

Though it’s a long, long struggle, you make it back to your home by morning. It takes everything in you to collapse on your bed and not the hard floor beneath your feet.

She continues to leave food for you at your door.

You’re unsure how she does it; you try your best to stay awake long enough to catch her after the first time, but she always drops it off right after you’d fallen asleep.

The third time you tried and had refused to eat anything, a note in Romanian was left tied around the fourth pack. It was written in scratchy handwriting.

Eat this or I will come down there and shove it down your throat myself.

You’d taken small bites of the food after that.

It takes another half a week to finally catch her in the act.

You had been sitting outside, leaning against your home as you struggled to remain awake. You were just out of sight of her, but you were close enough to hear if she or anyone else approached.

You had almost dozed around the time she arrived, and it made you wonder if she was watching you or if she just had incredible luck. You weren’t sure how either would work.

She walked quietly, almost enough that even when she was close to you, you could barely hear her. The only thing that gave her away was her quiet humming.

As silently as you possibly could, you stood from your spot on the ground and made your way to the front of your home.

You’re not sure what comes over you when you see her.

In the early morning light with the sun barely in the sky, she’s bathed in an almost angelic glow. It’s easy to see what’s wrong with her the closer she gets.

Her blonde hair is dull and pulled away from her face, and her eyes are a lighter color than you’ve seen them. Her skin is paler than usual, her typical garb making her look as though she had thinned out a bit. Her cheeks were gaunt and there were dark bags beneath her eyes, but aside from that, it was her.

Despite everything that had happened, that was your Bela.

She notices you almost immediately, and when her eyes flick to you, she tries to hide the pack behind her. A few of her bugs buzz around her shoulders, but aside from that, she remains perfectly still.

You say nothing, and when she seems to realize she’s been caught, she gives you a sheepish smile and says, “You’ve certainly looked better.”

Your eye twitches. “I’m still upset with you. Greatly upset.”

She nods and bows her head, kicking at the dirt beneath her shoe. “I know, little one. But I wanted to leave you something, at least.”

“I don’t… want it, I-“

“You need it. Your body is fragile and breaks so easily.” A muscle in her jaw twitches. “I made mistakes. I kept this from you when you should have known the truth, and… I was selfish. It was your right to know his fate.”

You reach up to grasp his necklace resting on your chest. “You wanted someone to understand you, and I don’t know if… I’m not sure…”

She seems to pick up what you’re trying to say. “Then I will leave you be. I will continue to leave these at your door, but you will not hear a peep from my sisters or me.”

You say nothing to her, your brows furrowed as you stare at her. You were torn, and you knew you would be when the time came. Even after everything that had happened and everything she had done, you did care for her.

More than you would like to admit, in recent days.

She seems to realize you must not want to speak with her, and so, gently, she sets the bag in her gloved hand down and begins to back away.

You’re not sure why you do it, but before she turns away without another word, you take a few steps toward her and reach a hand out.

“Wait,” you tell her, your heart in your throat. Your nerves skyrocket when she pauses to look at you. “Don’t… I…” Your mouth works like you want to speak, but the words refuse to leave your throat.

She’s patient. As kindly as possible, she stands and waits for you to gain the courage to speak again.

And when you do, you quietly tell her, “I don’t want to be alone again.”

She melts and coos something softly at you, clearly hesitant to touch you as she moves closer. It’s not until you feel tears streaming down your cheeks again that you lower your head to her chest and her arms wrap securely around you.

The feeling of her around you – protecting you both from physical threats and mental ones – brings you no small amount of comfort. It’s the most you’ve felt in weeks since you truly discovered your brother’s fate.

You know, deep inside, that it was no fault of hers. Not truly. If you put yourself in her shoes – if someone had trespassed and had made themself a threat to yours or your brother’s safety – you would have done the same, and that was a thought that came easily to you now. Before your existence in the village, you would have puked at the thought of killing someone. It was different now; you were different.

She murmurs soft words to you as you cry into her chest, her cool skin such a comfort. A few of her bugs crawl against your arms, and though you may have panicked before, you know she means well with them.

In the morning sun, you stand with her arms tight around you, crying out your frustration, your fears, and your guilt.

Through some strange feeling, she muffles all of it, and for the first time in a long time, you begin to pick up the pieces of yourself.

Two days later, you asked her to attend your brother’s grave with you. It was a terrible attempt at asking her to repair your relationship, but you were happy she agreed, if only it meant she could spend time with you again.

She did not touch you. You’re unsure if it was because of her own guilt or if she was afraid of crossing any boundaries, but at the large stick in the ground to mark his place in the earth, she merely sat beside you and listened to you speak.

You told the earth of his courage and how well he had taken care of you. It listened quietly as you told it of his silly attempts to make you laugh and how he’d always had some plan in mind when the day would be horrible and gray.

And you told it to take care of him how he had done so for you. To release him and allow him some peace for once; he, above anyone else, deserved it.

You would miss him, and it would take time to fully recover from everything, but his necklace around your neck helped you think and feel more like yourself. Sometimes, it felt as though he was still with you, watching over you with a warm, gentle hand on your shoulder.

Bela tells you something as you sit in the evening sun, blessed by the warmth of the wind.

“He told us to spare you,” she quietly says. You stare at his unmarked grave, likely to be lost to the earth, just as he was. Not even her flies buzz beside you. “He was on his knees in front of us and told us very harshly that we were to leave you alone. His faults were not your own and you should not be punished for them.”

Your brows furrow at that. “He didn’t tell you what he meant, did he?”

“No. But even until his dying breath, he wanted to protect you.” She inhales deeply, shifting slightly on the grassy ground. “He was… a good man, I will say.”

You remain quiet, your hands in your lap, fighting off tears that threatened to build in your eyes.

“I didn’t know,” she continues, almost silently. “I suppose I should have seen the signs earlier; two outsiders, both trespassing in my home? One right after the other had been killed? It was in front of my face, but… I was blinded, I suppose.”

“By my everlasting beauty, right?”

It’s not a joke you should make right now, but it gets her and you to laugh.

“That too. But because this outsider who I had been trying to… eat decided to spare me. You would have killed me, you know. I saw it in your eyes.” She nudges you slightly on the thigh with her knuckles. “But you didn’t. Typically, I would tell you human compassion is a fatal flaw, but there was something about you.”

“You must have smelt my fear. Was it appetizing?”

“Oh, delightful. Along with your sweat and stink.” She laughs with you, nudging you with her knuckles again. It takes a moment for her to speak. “I was afraid for the first time in my life. I had made the mistake of playing with my food too long, and it nearly cost me my life. Had it been anyone else, I doubt I would still be here.”

You hum quietly. “Had it been anyone else, would you have stalled long enough for them to gain the upper hand like that?”

The wind blows gently against your skin. “No. You were thoroughly entertaining.”

“Mm. Dinner and a show.”

“In a way.” You glance at her, watching as she fidgets with her hands. “You… mean everything to me. Even if you decide to part ways, I will never forget what you’ve done for me.”

“I adore you.” Your own words are quiet, barely reaching your ears. “But I don’t know if I can stay here.”

She takes a deep breath. “I can find safe travel for you to leave the village, if that’s what you’d like. I won’t stop you, but I will tell you that I wish you would stay.” You give her a questioning look, your head tilting to the side slightly. “The reminders of your brother would be too much, I know. But I can offer you something in the castle. You would be under my protection and you would be fed as much as you want.”

It’s a tempting offer. What else really waited for you out there?

But you weren’t sure if you could linger, knowing that was the place your brother was killed. You worry you’ll see remnants of him around and spiral into a place you’ll never claw your way out of.

“You’re offering me a job.”

“Yes. I understand if it would be too much, however. I’ll leave it up to you.”

Ugh.

You lean back until you’re lying on the grass, your eyes closing as the sun warms your skin. Your hands rest on your stomach as you think, though you doubt you’ll come up with a reasonable solution anytime soon.

For the moment, you enjoy the evening sun and the comfort of your only friend back at your side. It will take time to see her as you once did, but considering her words and actions, you think she’s more than happy to wait for you.

“Lay back with me,” you mumble, feeling as though you were everything and nothing all at once. “We can exist for a while.”

She does as you ask her, and after a few moments of being settled beside one another, you shift closer to her. You place your head on her shoulder, curled into her side, and her arm wraps around you, securing you there. She hums softly to you, some tune you think you may recognize.

You lie with her until the moon shines high in the sky, and even then, you remain with her.

You weren’t entirely sure how long it would take for everything to feel normal again, or if you would ever accomplish such a thing in your lifetime. For the moment, however, you had grown content.

Perhaps now you could begin your own life however you wished. You could travel, or you could build a foundation in this very village and exist from there.

You would have support regardless of your decision.

Insects chirp and buzz throughout the night, calming your nerves more than you ever have in the past by yourself.

You had faith that it would be okay. No matter what the gods above had planned for you, you would find a way to make it work. You would thrive.

And maybe you would have someone by your side as you did so.