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Bound by Sins of the Past

Summary:

Two years after surviving the events that had bound their fates together, Ethan and Bela are living in different corners of the world. Their newfound peaceful and happy lives are about to be shattered by a mutual foe, bringing them together once again.

Notes:

This is a direct sequel that takes place 2 years after the conclusion of my story 'An Act of Kindness'

It will probably be helpful to read it to understand what is happening here. A short summary for those who don't want to: 'An Act of Kindness' is an AU story where Bela was more empathetic to Ethan and helped him in his search for Rose, freeing her own family from Miranda in the process. It ended with Miranda dead and the four lords alive and left to their own devices.

This story will take a bit darker tone and have more depictions of violence, as well as some actual romance.

Chapter 1: Nothing lasts Forever

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

After the horrifying events that shook the ancient land of the Four Lords to the core, peace has finally fallen down upon it.

With Miranda dead and Heisenberg gone without so much as a parting word, it was the Duke who took charge of the forgotten valley. No longer bound by the deal he had with the Lady of Ravens, he was quick to bring in some of his most trusted outside contacts. The valley still had a great deal of forgotten riches lying around, ripe for the taking, after all.

Lady Alcina and her daughters all had felt that the valley they called home for so long had little left to offer them. The three girls especially craved freedom and warmth, after more than half a century of being stuck in their cold, dark castle. Unbound from the ancient pacts, the Dimitrescu family believed that a change in scenery was in order.

Ever the helpful and humble merchant, the Duke was only too eager to aid the departing Dimitrescu family in relocating - for a price, naturally.

Much like a dragon she sometimes fancied to be, Lady Alcina herself was figuratively sitting on a veritable pile of treasure. Apparently, hoarding wealth was a respected Dimitrescu tradition, dating long before even Alcina’s time. With that, accumulated over the centuries wealth, as well as the Duke’s truly prodigious connections, the family moved their residence to a different place, far away. All done with privacy and comfort that would be envied by anyone not familiar with the practices of the ultra-wealthy.

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

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

It has been almost two years now since they have left the castle they have called their home for so long.

As another favor, the Duke provided the family with his own connections to the black market in the region, showing the Dimitrescu women that in this brave new world of theirs everything had a price. Fresh human corpses, dead from natural causes, could be delivered to them swiftly and inconspicuously. Same went for human blood, available in any amount. Any peculiar craving or material desire could be satisfied, if one had the means to afford it. A man, whose loyalty Duke guaranteed personally became the family's primary assistant in all local matters. His name was Darius and he had settled in a nearby town himself, though he always was just a call away.

Truth be told, the girls didn’t actually need to consume human flesh and blood, specifically. Animal flesh worked just as well, if not in taste, then in nutrient value. But, naturally, it was hard letting go of the 70-year old habits. The family still regularly dined upon the human flesh and blood, eagerly provided by their new contacts, no question asked.

Cassandra would have none of it, however. The taste mattered less to her than an actual thrill of the hunt, the pounding of the heart of her prey. So the fiery brunette took up hunting herself. Surprising everyone, she befriended another recluse living nearby, a vicious gun-nut survivalist type who was always blabbering about the Majestic Twelve; quickly developing a frightening affinity with a hunting rifle from the man. Boars, birds, fish and sometimes even water buffaloes - none were safe from Cassandra and her new Ruger M77 rifle which she now cherished and even named - ‘Anabelle’. Bela took some pride in that naming choice.

Of course, the brunette, occasionally loved to run her animal prey down with her old but trusty sickle; before engorging herself on the fresh, raw meat right at the spot of a kill. She never talked about hunting her previous favorite game - men, as the family agreed not to do anything that would draw undue attention to themselves, but Bela had a few worries on the matter. It was just a tad too suspicious that the rate of missing persons in the area went up by a remarkable margin, once they started calling it home.

 

Daniela adjusted the best out of all four of them to their new life. The perfect, all year-round warm climate and the unrestricted freedom of movement was all the girl ever wanted. She was almost never home now, whether lounging out in the sun; walking on the small, rocky beach near them; exploring the surrounding mangroves; or even visiting a small town some distance away from them - the redhead was never at rest. She was also, to their mother’s ire, the only one who actively sought out human contact. Anyone who gave her as little as a simple compliment immediately became her new friend. Surprising Bela, the normally academically-disinclined redhead picked up Spanish unbelievably fast, faster even than blonde herself. 

Unfortunately, the violent episodes the youngest sister sometimes suffered through, still remained. Back in the castle, she would occasionally be gripped by the uncontrollable bursts of horrible violence, mutilating the help and anyone else close by. Only their mother could calm her down then. The frequency of such episodes mercifully decreased, month by month, but they would still, sometimes, without warning manifest in the normally sweet and lovely girl, turning her into a killing machine.

Just last month, a particularly violent episode gripped the redhead, just as she was walking outside the town with Elian, a handsome local young man that was completely enamored by her. Grasped by the sudden, violent delusions, Daniela mutilated the poor man with her bare hands, before devouring at least a quarter of his body mass at the very spot. Regaining her senses, she was horrified by her own actions. Calling Bela with her smartphone, the redhead didn’t need to wait long as her elder sister flew to be at her side in moments.

Worried that the man’s relatives would start inquiries, the girls phoned the Duke’s contact. Darius, sounding absolutely unbothered at the description of violence, assured the girls that he would make it look like a violent animal attack, before telling them to vacate the scene and let him handle it.

Daniela had locked herself in her room for two days after the event, refusing to eat or drink. Bela guessed that the redhead fancied the young man she had so brutally slain herself. Slowly, but surely her chipper attitude returned, though it was clear that the incident had left its mark on her. She started avoiding the small town and the people living there. Moreover, she started practicing the meditating techniques, which were offered by Bela.

 

Lady Alcina adjusted to her new life surprisingly well. Preferring to spend the evenings in calm, long walks and her days in her study, the large woman took up writing with a passion. Determined to write a book detailing but dramatizing her long and perilous life, Lady Dimitrescu had her work cut out for her. Bela was genuinely impressed at the passion her mother had shown for her new hobby, her attention to details and the quality of her written word.

Moreover, the woman was still in contact with the Duke, spending much of her free time in the long telephoned conversations with the merchant. Apparently, the Duke decided to pick the winemaking business where Alcina had left it, and the woman was all too happy to indulge him in her descriptions of her practices in it.

Finally, when the whole family was together, Alcina loved to just listen about how their own days went: from the chipper, excited redhead's stories about how she found a new favorite hiding spot, to the exhilarated brunette's grisly details about her latest successful hunt.

As for Bela herself, she was quite content in taking her new life in small, measured strides. Taking care of her younger siblings took more than a bit of her own time, and when by herself, the blonde woman, much like her mother, loved to just take long, solitary walks, enjoying every moment the warm sun shined down on her no-so-pale-anymore features. For her, this was as close to paradise as it could get, the soothing trade winds blowing against her long hair gently and the ever pleasant climate feeling heavenly after the long years in the cold, dark castle.

Her evenings were spent in her own study, ‘surfing’ the internet, as she learned it was called. She was ever eager to learn the ways of the world, but the sheer quantity of information available to her now was still staggering, even after two years. All the academic papers, research subjects, fiction books, movies and even games now offered to her was overwhelming for the blonde, yet she tried to take it all in stride. Her curiosity about the world that was denied to her for so long was truly insatiable.

The Dimitrescu family's new lives were full of joy and happiness. They craved for nothing and even on the few dark days they would always be able to find comfort in each other. 

Still...nothing good lasts forever.

One evening, as Bela was on her way back to their house from her outing to the town, a bag of merchandise she purchased today hanging on her arm, a long, bright yellow sundress covering her slender frame with a hat much like the one so cherished by her mother, only smaller, of course, on top of her blonde head; she couldn’t help but think about the movie she watched yesterday. ‘The Big Lebowski’ it was called, and boy, was it fun! It took her more time than the actual movie to surf through all the references she didn’t understand, but her joy from the process was undeniable. As she approached their moderately-sized, quaintly decorated manor, she thought giddily about which movie she would watch today.

Something else from the Coen brothers, perhaps? They sure know their cinema…

Close to the entrance now, an ominous feeling suddenly settled inside Bela’s stomach, as she saw the doors to their manor wide open, in stark defiance to mother’s preferences. Her previous cheerful mood gone in an instant, the blonde walked inside carefully, her hands suddenly longing for the comforting weight of her own sickle.

***

On another side of the world, in his modest-sized apartments on the outskirts of London, a blonde man was sitting in an armchair by himself, sullenly reading the latest news on his smartphone. 

B.S.S.A. Western European Division director Frank Dowell to be awarded the Captain Mbaye Diagne Medal by the Secretary-General of the United Nations.

Today was an anniversary for him and his family. Yet unlike most people, who would celebrate the dates of births or marriages, the Smith family celebrated the anniversary of their escape from an isolated Romanian village. Two years ago, reunited, they left the cursed valley.

Almost two years of bliss, of true family life and contentment with his beautiful, caring wife and the precious, growing young daughter. Now officially known as John Smith - most unoriginal he thought himself; but that’s the point of a new identity, he supposed after, the man stood up from the chair to approach a window. It was raining hard, the sky was dark grey as far as the eye could see. Typical weather for the place. 

He was now working as a systems engineer for a moderately-sized London-based, international company. Mia was working in the nearby school as a biology teacher. Going back to doing something normal after all the decidedly un-normal bullshit he went though was not a simple process. Yet the counseling sessions and his loving wife helped him immensely. The blonde would now only occasionally shoot up from his bed in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, searching everywhere for cackling Jack with a spade or giggling Cassandra with a knife. Mia… or Jane, as she was now known, would swiftly come to his side with a comforting and understanding hug, soothing him quietly with her gentle voice.

“Everything is fine, Ethan. Nobody is after us anymore.”

The man whispered to himself, repeating the soothing words so often spoken by the love of his life, even as he stared into the rain. He didn’t believe these words. Not anymore. 

They used to be so happy, and the future never seemed brighter. Him, Mia and Rose, all living together, not counting the occasional bickering, in almost perfect harmony. Safe here, with their new identities and the protection of the B.S.S.A.

Everything changed two weeks ago. They were out walking in the park, on a sunny weekend morning - just a happy married couple with their young daughter, enjoying their free day. 

A brunette man in an exercise outfit and a pair of sunglasses had briskly run past them, while giving Mia a wave of his hand and a smirk. The woman stopped dead in her tracks, while staring at the shrinking form of a stranger with a horrified expression on her face. Ethan tried asking who was that or what was wrong, but all he got in return was vigorous shaking of her hand and empty reassurances. 

Mia was not the same anymore after that. She would jump at every shadow, drill her gaze into every passing stranger, never pick up a ringing phone again. The loud clapping of thunder would keep her awake all night, staring blankly into the room’s ceiling. All the while telling Ethan that everything is fine. Nothing he could do would offer any comfort to her, and he hated himself for just watching her healthy features slowly turn gaunt, the bags under her eyes darker and darker, after every sleepless night.

Suddenly gripped by the violent rage, the blonde man threw his still clenched device against the opposite wall so hard that it broke on impact.

“Nothing is fine…” 

Notes:

This will be a pretty big adventure-like story, with plenty of hurt, comfort and romance along the way, with lots of graphic depictions of violence and even some smut (in later chapters). Character development, as well as growing relationships will also be a big focus of this story.

Furthermore, I want to add right at the start - The Dimitrescu girls in this story do not have EXACTLY the same body-type as in game. They are all pretty slender and in their robed dresses they look very similar, but there will be some differences.

Bela is 5.11 ft and has the most 'feminine' body out of the three sisters, if you can forgive me for that term.
Cassandra is a 6.1 and has an athletic, lean build, though not without feminine curves of her own. Most find her physically intimidating at the first glance, even if they can appreciate her natural beauty.
Daniela is a bit shorter at 5.10 - still pretty tall. Her curves are also slightly less pronounced than Bela's or Cassandra's. Moreover, she is physically the weakest of the three sisters, though that really changes when her other personality comes to the surface, but we will get to that later.

Finally, there is a 4-chapter side-story I wrote called 'Haunted by the Past' which takes place during the two years the Dimitrescu Family spent in Cuba and acts to better outline Alcina's, Bela's, Cassandra's and Daniela's characters. Alcina's chapter, in particular, using flashbacks, will serve as a backstory to the whole Dimitrescu family as we know it and will tell about how Alcina came to be in Miranda's employ.

Chapter 2: Shocked to the core

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Entering the manor with measured, quiet steps, Bela couldn't get that open door out of her head. All of them knew how insistent mother was about that rule, ever since the incident when a hutia got in and wreaked havoc in the house, breaking her favorite vase, brought all the way here from their castle.

Nobody greeted her, but that was not surprising - Cassandra was on one of her hunts today, Daniela likely reading in her own room, being completely absorbed by her newest romantic novel lately and mother was probably in the garden, behind the house, or in her own study. Not suspicious enough to disperse into a swarm but wary enough to walk slowly and quietly, her simple summer shoes making little noise, Bela approached the living room and gasped at the sight that greeted her there.

Right in the middle of the room, near their large all-family sofa was the prone and unmoving body of Daniela - her colorful dress and red hair unmistakable. Unheeding the voice in her head that was screaming at her to proceed carefully, the protective older sister rushed to her sibling’s body.

If only she had managed to keep her cool, her sharp eyes would’ve surely noticed a small, white tripwire near the ground, going across the door frame to the living room.

As her exposed ankle touched the wire, her whole body was instantly electrified by a powerful current. Dropping down into the living room like a log, Bela could only silently curse herself, as she came face-to-face with the unmoving redhead. Daniela’s yellow eyes stared back at her, in horror, but the girl said nothing. Trying to move, Bela found her mimicry of human musculature completely unresponsive, while her second form refused to show itself, the constituting flies ignoring her mental commands. She was completely at the mercy of whoever did this. Soon, she heard the sound of approaching footsteps and laughter. A pair of strong hands turned her paralyzed body, allowing her to get a look at her captors.

It was four men, all of them wearing dark black military boots, simple jungle camouflage pants and shirts; a number of weird-looking gadgets attached to their belts and simple kevlar vests over their chests. They were also wearing simple military caps. The one who turned her around was the most intimidatingly built out of the four, a tanned Caucasian in his late thirties, with bulging muscles obvious on his frame. He had a number of ugly scars visible on his rough face and one on his exposed right hand. Giving a laugh at her ‘shocked’ expression the man spoke in a gruff voice, addressing a lanky-looking man to his left, in English.

“Using the redheaded bitch as bait actually worked. I knew we kept you on payroll for a reason, Joe. A good head on your shoulders, son.”

The lanky man adjusted his thick glasses and replied, curtly: “Just doing my part, sarge.”

A man to the ‘sarge’s’ right, a dark-skinned, also well-built male in his early thirties and with a pair of dark sunglasses, spoke next.

“Didn’t the contract say ‘extremely dangerous’? This is too easy… Are they really goin’ to pay us ten mil for these cunts? Sounds too good to be true, if you ask me.”

The final man, all the way in the back, a person whose face Bela couldn’t see spoke after. Bela found his low-pitched voice the most unpleasant.

“You know they always pay what they promise. Never heard of ‘em screwing up any of the boys before. Also, the huge one took enough tasers to drop an elephant before she went down. Not enough of a challenge for you?”

They got mother too! These vile men… if only I could move…

Just as she felt her strained muscles starting to relax, the leader of the invaders placed a small white device on her chest, which immediately started sending an additional, constant current throughout her body, making her muscles once again tense to their limit.

The leader then spoke, still looking at Bela’s prone form with an ugly smirk on his uglier still face: “We still have one more little girl to catch, according to the contract. Reset the tripwires and get back into positions, boys."

‘Bang’

Before the men could do as told, Joe gained an additional breathing hole right in his forehead, courtesy of a 7.62×63mm round. With a horrible exit wound from the powerful projectile making sure the coroner would need to do a dental to identify the corpse, the man dropped down like a sack of potatoes, dead on the spot.

As the men turned to address the newest threat, Bela could hear a distinct reload sound made by a bolt-action rifle, before another deafening shot took place. The person in the back, his simple kevlar vest doing little except to transfer additional kinetic energy from the round into his body - came flying towards Bela, his form landing close to her own. He screamed out in pain, but didn’t move to stand up. 

With just two men left standing, the shape of Bela’s savior was now visible. It was Cassandra, dressed in her simple hunting outfit and armed with her rifle. Her normally beautiful face - now a mask of terrifying rage.

As the two remaining invaders raised their tasers to fire at her, the woman, knowing she had no time to reload the slow bolt-action weapon again, threw her rifle at the dark-skinned attacker instead. With deadly precision and inhuman strength behind the throw, the hefty weapon’s wooden buttstock impacted the man’s face with a horrible crunching noise, breaking his sunglasses as well as his whole visage. Falling on his rear from the sheer power of the attack, the man clutched his ruined face and let out an agonized cry.

Just as the leader was about to shoot Cassandra, she rushed him, her gloved hand gripping her trusty sickle already. Seeing the man making the motion to pull the trigger with her keen eyes, and not wanting to take a chance against their weaponry - with her two sisters already defeated, Cassandra crouched down to the floor at the last possible moment, making the man miss her head by inches, his taser wire impacting the wall behind her harmlessly.

The man could only curse before the brunette was upon him, her sickle slicing three fingers off his trigger hand with a single, smooth motion that could barely be followed by a human eye. The weapon fell to the floor, forgotten, but the man was not out of the fight just yet.

Jumping back from the woman, the man swiftly grabbed a baton from his belt with his intact right hand, before pressing a button on it, making it spark with deadly energy. Cassandra was unperturbed by the surprising resilience of the man and continued her relentless assault on the filthy invader.

In a show of unbelievable skill and speed, the man actually managed to keep up with Cassandra, putting her on the defensive with his sparkling shock baton, the brunette smart enough not to try and block the electric weapon with her metal sickle, opting to dodge every attack instead.

After a brief back-and-forth, however, the woman’s inhuman speed and strength proved too much for the veteran fighter, and with a simple feint of her sickle, Cassandra impaled his healthy hand’s wrist with a dagger that inconspicuously found its way to her second hand. Not waiting for the man to recover once again, she quickly sliced his throat with her sickle, fresh blood from the deep, undoubtedly fatal cut instantly spraying her fearsome face. The man gurgled and leaned against the wall, his life - forfeit in mere moments. 

Pulling the knife from the man’s hand, she marched towards the dark-skinned attack, who was now trying to stand up, still clutching his face and crying in pain. Muttering a hateful “you came to the wrong house, fools”, she stabbed the knife deeply into the man’s exposed throat.

Done with their unwelcome guests, Cassandra rushed to her downed elder sister’s side, roughly shoving away the man lying next to her with her booted foot. The man in question had already expired from his terrible chest wound, his last breath made several moments ago. Not sparing the wretch a glance, Cassandra eyes immediately fell upon the white device on Bela’s chest. The brunette tried to roughly pull it off, only to be rewarded with a shock that elicited a small yelp of pain from her. Thinking for a moment, the woman tried pressing a button in the middle of the device next, and with a humming noise it powered off and fell down itself. Repeating the process on the redhead, both sisters soon came back to their senses. Daniela was first to speak, her voice a pained shriek.

“They took mama!” The girl cried out loudly, before starting to sob heavily. Bela herself felt close to panic, but, clenching her fist, forced herself to stay calm and rational, knowing that her sisters and mother counted on her to be able to fix this mess.

We need to find out who these men are and where they took mother… Clearly they came prepared for us, with their equipment being so effective.

Moving towards the fallen leader, his body bloodied and mutilated, the blonde started shuffling through his pockets, even as she addressed Cassandra, who was now trying to comfort Daniela with a tight hug.

“You could’ve left one alive, sister… we needed the information they had.”

The brunette replied, hateful notes still present in her voice: “When I saw them standing over your unmoving bodies, I just had to end their miserable existence as soon as possible…”

Bela just hummed, knowing well how protective of their family the middle child was. Cassandra asked next: “Who are these filthy men anyway?”

Suddenly, the redhead broke away from the brunette’s embrace and yelled out, accusingly.

“It’s all your fault, Cass! They are probably the government, coming for us in retaliation for all the people you killed around here! Don’t think we didn’t know about your ‘activities’!”

Cassandra reeled back at that, surprise and anger burning in her eyes at the accusation: “Oh yeah? I only hunted like seven or eight men down during the two years we’ve been here, and I made sure to cover my tracks. Nobody would come for us over that.” Pointing her finger accusingly at Daniela next, the brunette continued.

“Maybe it's that boy-toy of yours you decided to eat right outside the town that got their attention?”

Reminded of the painful memory, the redhead broke into tears again.

“Enough, girls! They are not the government, none of you are at fault here! Didn’t you hear what they were talking about? Someone is paying them money to bring us in, alive. Also, look at this.” Finished Bela as she flashed a plastic card she found in the man’s wallet. It was white, with the man’s picture, name, rank and I.D. on it, as well as a logo of a vicious looking wolf. Below the logo was a writing - ‘Dire Wolf PMC’.

“What does that mean?” Asked the brunette. 

Bela responded simply to that: “They are mercenaries, and someone provided them with our location and told them to capture us.”

Daniela spoke next, hurt still plain in her voice: “Who would do something like that? Where would they take mama…”

Not answering, for she had no answer, Bela looked at the phone of the leader next. Astonishingly, it was unlocked. Perhaps the formerly formidable man never expected anyone to challenge his possession? Before she could look into the man’s phone further, a radio on his belt sprung to life: “Charlie team, how copy? Are all three additional targets secure? Bravo and Delta teams are still on standby. I repeat, Charlie team, how copy? Over.” 

Shit!

Looking at her sisters, Bela could only mumble out: “Well, if any of you girls secretly practiced impressionism, now would be the time to put it to use.” Not hearing any response, the woman returned to the smartphone in her small hands, the press of time heavy on her shoulders now.

Looking through the number of irrelevant contacts and messages, the blonde finally found what she was looking for. An inconspicuous message from an unknown caller providing only a set of coordinates. Pointing to her sisters, Bela exclaimed: “There! I think they took mother to these coordinates!” 

Cassandra just scoffed and asked: “What are we supposed to do with these random numbers?”

Bela just shook her head in annoyance, before rapidly standing up and moving upstairs, towards her own room. Her headstrong sister really had no interest in modern technology beyond guns and sometimes explosives. Quickly turning on her modest PC, Bela opened Google Maps before inputting the provided coordinates. She was instantly directed towards an unmarked and unnamed place, that was actually not that far away. Looking at it closer, she figured out it must have been a small, private air-field.

Shit, Shit, Shit!

Standing up, not bothering to power off the computer, the blonde rushed down towards the living room, where she found both Cassandra and Daniela feasting on the men’s remains. 

Feeling peckish as well, but knowing that they had no time to waste, Bela clapped her hands loudly, attracting their attention. 

“Girls, we have to go fast! I know where they took mother, but I don’t think we have much time to rescue her!”

Their faces bloodied, the two sisters, nevertheless, shot up to their feet, Cassandra picking up her rifle; while tossing both Bela and Daniela a .357 Desert Eagle pistol each, which all the mercs had as a sidearm they never got a chance to use. Both women had trained with the small firearms for a bit, under the insistence of Cassandra, who used to be desperate to share her newest passion back then; but they both had no particular joy from using a man’s weapon. Yet they both accepted it, knowing that it could be helpful in what was to come next. Making sure to quickly stuff the essentials into her travel backpack, Bela put it on, and rushed out of the house, her sisters doing the same and following along.

Giving their house of two years that they came to love a single last glance, the Dimitrescu daughters took to their inhuman forms and flew away, the eldest providing the direction.

***

Coming back from his workplace, Ethan was not having a good day. His boss, who never liked him in the first place, took particular offense to the blonde’s man slipping work quality lately. After a lengthy lecture about the ‘consequences of laziness’, Ethan was finally free of the larger man's ear-grating, high-pitched voice.

Wanting to stop at a small pub for a few drinks, the man was then confronted with the fact that his credit card was suddenly declined. Not carrying any cash at hand, the man had to endure a scene from the owner, who threatened to ‘call the bobbies on his skinny bum ass’.

Now finally home, he opened the door with his keys, before stepping inside. He was immediately greeted by the hateful stare from their nanny, Mary. She was a plump, middle-aged woman with messy, dark hair. Before he could say a word, she shrieked at him in her slightly nasal voice.

“Mister Winters! What is the meaning of this? We had a clear agreement that one of you would be home by eight PM! It is now half-past eleven! I cannot work under such conditions!” She stomped out the moment she was finished, not letting the shocked man respond. 

Mia’s not home..?

Taking his shoes and coat off, Ethan quickly walked towards his daughter’s room. Opening the door quietly, he saw his precious angel, now a beautiful and healthy three-year old, sleeping peacefully in her bed. Silently moving towards her, the father gave her a small, but loving kiss on the forehead, before leaving the room and closing the door to it.

Coming to sit on his own bed now, Ethan took out his phone, dialing Mia’s number. All he got in response was a ‘Number not in service’ message.

What the hell?

Locating a bottle of gin nearby, the man took a gulp right from the bottle, before starting to search for clues. He didn’t need to look far, it turned out. Coming up towards a small cupboard next to Mia’s side of the bed, the man opened it up, his brown eyes immediately falling upon a simple piece of paper, with her unmistakable hand-writing on it. Picking it up with his free hand, he started reading, his eyes widening in shock.

Dear Ethan. I love both you and our Rose so very much that I cannot describe it with mere words. But this is why I have to do this. To make sure that neither of you come to harm, I must leave, perhaps forever. I am sorry for not saying anything earlier. Like a fool, I was hoping that all this would pass, like a bad dream. It didn’t. None of us could’ve done anything about it, so don’t blame yourself, I beg you. Please do not try to search for me and take good care of our beloved daughter in my absence. Know that I cherished every moment we spent together, and nothing gave me more pride in this life than the child we have created, just you and me. If you have any love left for me, don’t look back towards what we lost today, and look towards the future you will build for Rose.

 

Your forever loving wife, Mia.

 

The sound of breaking glass did little to break Ethan out of his stupor.



Notes:

So this was a pretty violent and dark chapter overall, since I wanted to establish the threat the characters will face in this work. Thanks for reading!

Chapter 3: Desperation

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The Dimitrescu daughters' swarm forms were never really good at long-distance, high-speed flights. As the trio coalesced on an overgrown elevation overlooking the small airfield, the accumulated exhaustion of their flies immediately flowed into their now human shapes. Daniela and Bela panted heavily, while Cassandra looked to be in a better shape, yet sweat still started trickling down her forehead. The girl’s current physical discomfort was the furthest thing on their minds at the moment, however. A small, sleek-looking private jet was accelerating on the airfield’s runway, probably only moments away from lifting. 

The sisters could only gape in horror as the twin-engined aircraft sped away from them, knowing all too well that their tiny wings could never hope to match the vehicle’s velocity. 

“We are too late…” Mumbled out Bela, despair taking hold of her voice. Daniela was muttering something incoherent under her breath and was looking like she was on the verge of crying. 

Cassandra's strong features took on a harsh expression instead, her mouth turning into a thin line and her vicious yellow eyes narrowing. Despite spending months trying to break that particular habit, her fingers were twitching erratically now. Back when the family was still living in Castle Dimitrescu and had the full staff, every maid had known that when Cassandra had that particular look, she was far more dangerous than even Lady of the Castle herself. Gripping her sickle tightly, the brunette was about to descend all the way down and enact unspeakable acts of violence upon anyone who she could get her gloved hands on. 

Yet the motion of the younger sister was what finally broke Bela out of her panicked daze. Clutching Cassandra's wrist with her own hand, the blonde tried to calm down her sibling.

“Cass… wait.”

The middle daughter roughly pulled her hand away from Bela’s grip, before turning her face towards the oldest child and giving her a feral snarl so full of fury that it made the blonde take a step back. 

“I know you’ve always been too soft on humans for your own good, but to actually want to protect them now after what they have done? Despicable …” Hissed out the brunette.

Bela just sighed at that. 

Cassandra is far from stupid, but now her rage clouds her mind completely…

She spoke again, now in her elder sister's authoritative tone: “You overestimate my mercy if you’d think I’d have any for these vile men, after what they have done to us. Yet how would their deaths help us save our mother? If you go down there, all you will achieve is endanger our own lives.”

Cassandra pointed her still twitching hand accusingly at the tiny speck in the distance that was the jet as she spoke, in an acid tone.

Save mother? Mother is on that plane! How could we possibly get to her now? All we can do is take vengeance upon this filth still down there!”

“Cassandra Dimitrescu! Pull yourself together already! I know you’re better than this! Any departing aircraft also tends to have an arrival point! All we need to do is find out where that is. Then we can contact our own friends to aid us in getting there ourselves and free our mother!”

Finally calming down somewhat, the middle child relaxed her fingers and nodded, her attention fully on Bela now. Daniela also looked attentive at the two now, happy that she didn’t interject in their conversation before.

“How do we find where that plane took mama?” Asked the redheaded girl meekly, her amber gaze locked on Bela’s own, hope glimmering in them now. 

“Perhaps one of the good men down there will be in possession of that information? If so, your persuasion skills will surely convince him to share it with us, Cassandra.” The brunette grinned at that. It was not a kind grin. “We should observe the area, instead of blindly rushing forward, however. Pass me that rifle of yours, dear sister.” 

Grabbing the offered weapon, Bela opened the 9x scope and observed the airfield through it. It had a barbed fence perimeter, a small hangar, a control tower and a tiny service building. A trio of poorly equipped guards patrolled the perimeter - they looked like they wouldn’t even slow the sisters down if they went down there in force. She switched her attention to the area near the air traffic control tower next.

It was a whirlwind of activity under it. A military truck as well as a Humvee, both in jungle camouflage pattern and with that same vicious wolf logo were parked near the tower, a number of well-armed men, seemingly agitated, talking to each other around the vehicles. The men were all dressed in similar fashion to the ones who had invaded their home. The blonde woman breathed out a sigh of relief that she stopped Cassandra in time at the sight. 

There are twelve of them out in the open, plus whoever is in the vehicles. If these people are as dangerous as the ones who came after us, not even Cass would be able to take them on.

Next to the group of mercenaries, two people - a man and a woman, both in light, weather-appropriate white business attires articulated something wildly to the armed men. It looked like they had some kind of disagreement. It didn’t last for long and soon the merc in a beret, possibly a commanding officer, raised his arm and yelled something out. Not missing a beat, all the hired guns quickly jumped into their vehicles and promptly drove off, in the direction of Dimitrescu’s isolated manor.

“They are getting away sister!” Hissed out Cassandra, pointing at the speeding vehicles.

The blonde replied calmly, her gaze focused on the people in the suits: “Let them go. I sincerely doubt they even know anything. These two down there look like much more promising subjects to elicit information from.” 

Before Bela could decide on their next move, the pair of officials rushed into the hangar. Soon after, two black sedans with tinted glass drove out of the hangar, clearly aiming to leave the airfield as well.

Damn it! We need to intercept these, but picking a fight with them here looks like an awfully bad idea, when they can just call these mercenaries right back. And we won’t be able to catch up to speeding cars either…

Quickly coming with a different plan, Bela willed the tip of her right index finger to shift into a fly, before making it rush towards the first car, still inside the airfield for the moment. Just as the sedan finally left the perimeter and sped away in the direction of the nearby town, the solitary fly attached itself to its rear bumper.

***

After recovering from the daze at Mia’s departure, Ethan quickly made sure that Rose was still soundly asleep, before starting to pace in the living room, talking to himself quietly. 

“I can’t believe this… What could possibly force her to abandon us like that? What do I even do now? She told me to just forget her and build a new future with Rose, but how the hell can I do that? Not after everything I already went through to save Mia before… What kind of father would choose to raise a child by himself, without her mother? I’ll just call Chris…he has to know what to do. “

Almost pressing the dial button after inputting the emergency number the captain gave to him a couple of months back, the blonde stopped at the last moment, recalling the words spoken to him by the tough man then. 

Only use this number from a burner phone.

Just scoffing at the larger man's paranoia before, Ethan had to give it another thought now. Not having any at hand, the blonde grabbed some cash and left his modest apartment, making sure to lock it.

Sorry, Rosie, I’ll be back in a couple of minutes. 

Quickly locating a still-working small convenience store that had exactly what he needed, Ethan purchased a cheap phone with some pre-paid credit already on it. On his way back home, he suddenly remembered the latest spy TV series he had watched, and how the spooks could monitor any call from an area they had under observation. Jumping from every shadow himself now, Ethan stopped dead in his tracks.

Jesus Christ… What if people who Mia left to also monitor our home now?

Cursing himself for leaving Rose alone for yet more time, the man, nevertheless, changed his direction and headed to a large 24/7 pub nearby. Entering the still crowded establishment, he found himself a quiet corner before setting up the phone and finally calling Chris Redfield, the one man he trusted.

“Chris? This is Ethan, I am in big trouble.”

“Ettthan? What’s wrong, buddy?” 

Is he drunk!? Now… out of all times?

“It’s Mia! She’s gone!”

“Again? Really?”

“Yes… she was afraid of everything after meeting some man in a park two weeks ago. Now she is gone, leaving just a letter saying she has to go so me and Rose won’t come to harm. To forget her and not to look for her. But I can’t do that, Chris! It’s my goddamn wife and the mother of my three-year old child! You have to help us.”

After a few moments of tense silence, Chris spoke up, sounding much more sober:

“Are you calling this number from a burner phone?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Listen, Ethan. I have a pretty good guess about which people have Mia now. I have no idea why they would be interested in her, or how they possibly could have found you. I also cannot help you myself right now.”

“You what Chris!? You promised to keep us safe! You couldn’t do that two years ago, you have to at least do it now!” 

“I am back in the States and I am too busy with my own shit right now... I can’t drop what I am doing, it’s just too important.”

“Too important? What about my family, Chris? Is it not important to you? ...What about your men?”

“You know it is Ethan… But I just can’t go to you right now and all my trusted men are with me here. Listen, if Mia went to them voluntarily, she is likely safe for now. You should consider focusing on yourself and Rose for the moment. Once I am done here, I’ll make my way to you ASAP.”

“Fuck off, Chris. No way in hell am I going to just pretend my wife didn’t exist, after everything we’ve gone through.”

Several more tense moments of silence passed, the captain clearly thinking on the predicament. Finally he spoke, his normally composed voice now somewhat unsure-sounding.

“I have a proposal for you then, though I am not sure you will like it.”

“I am sure it will be better than the big fat nothing you’ve given me so far!”

“There are very few people that still have my trust nowadays. There is one... contact, who I think can both help you and keep Rosemary safe for some time. A mutual acquaintance of ours. I know him for a fact to be in strong opposition to the people who have Mia. And he also happens to be one of the most elusive people on the planet. Perhaps…he will be willing to aid you now, for a price.” 

“Sounds good. Who is that mysterious mutual acquaintance of ours? And how much does he want?”

“He helped you quite a bit two years ago. Literally saved your life. You should remember him well. As for how much, that is for him to say.”

Ethan’s face took a shocked expression at that.

He couldn’t be meaning…

“The Duke.”

***

Sitting in the backseat of a moving car with its glass tinted both ways and the driver being separated from her with yet more tinted glass, Mia felt scared and isolated. It’s been almost ten hours since she left her husband and child. Ten hours in this damn car, moving god knows where, by herself. The two men in the front seats would stop and let her relieve herself when prompted, but that was their only courtesy to the woman. Not that it was one. She would never wish to experience humiliation and terror that was peeing off the side of the road with a gun pointed to the back of her head ever again.

But I suppose it's only fair…  I wanted to run away from the sins of my past without ever confronting them… How stupid I was. But what else could I have done? If ever told the truth… My life would’ve been taken away from me, regardless… I took a gamble… and lost.

Suddenly, the accursed car finally stopped. A moment later, the door to her right opened and the man from the park from two weeks ago sat next to her. He closed the door again, and the car instantly lurched forward once more. Taking a look at him, Mia involuntarily shook from hate and disgust. He was a tall, cleanly shaved man with a muscled, but not overly-so built. Some would find his face handsome, with a chiseled jawline, deep green eyes with a small mole under the left one; his short black hair was trimmed neatly. Yet all Mia’s eyes saw was his horrifying deeds that lay beneath his pleasant appearance. The brunette man spoke in his suave voice, that sounded like poison to Mia’s ears.

“You have to forgive me for the rough ride, Mrs. Winters. Your tedious indecision for the last two weeks ruffled some feathers up top. I hope you understand your situation a bit more clearly now. Comfort is a privilege you have to earn.”

At that, Mia exploded, the normally calm and pleasant woman speaking with such venom in her voice that even the self-assured man next to her raised a brow in surprise at her vicious tone.

“You bastard! I left my family because of you! I left my husband, who did more than you could possibly know for me! I left my only child, who I would die for! And you scum dare to blame me for my indecision?”

Just shrugging his wide shoulders, the man offered her a bottle of water he held in his right hand, before grinning at her.

“I see you haven’t lost your spark, Mia. That’s good. You’ll need it.”

Knowing it was not poisoned, she grabbed the bottle wordlessly and drank it greedily, her parched throat desperate for the life-giving liquid. Finishing the drink, she threw the empty bottle back at the man, who caught it easily, before glaring at him with her own brown eyes, narrowed in anger.

“What the hell do you want from me, Sebastian?”

Notes:

So before writing this chapter, I actually checked maximum speed of a blowfly, and it was... 5-6 mph. That would make the daughters better off using their normal human legs to run, so I just decided to up their swarm-form top speed to 40 mph here, with them being mutants made from basically magical stuff and all that. Still, moving at that speed for long will be very energy-consuming for them.

For Chris/Ethan part I did take some hints from The Bureau french spy TV show. If anyone is looking to watch something from that genre, I heartily recommend it as it is very good.

Since last chapter Mia was mentioned in the comments a lot, I decided to start showing her perspective earlier than intended originally :D

Chapter 4: The Lies we tell

Chapter Text

The three sisters run along the empty road taken by two dark sedans, using their normal human shapes. They were too exhausted to fly in their swarm forms now. 

Bela’s stump of an index finger throbbed painfully, begging to be reunited with its missing tip. Yet thanks to that little trick, she knew exactly where their prey was now. Even that they have stopped. The blonde was afraid that by the time they would cross the vast distance between them and their prey on foot, the humans would already leave their little pit-stop, though. And she didn’t think her solitary fly could survive much longer, the prolonged separation from the swarm would prove too much for it soon, she could feel it.

As if God had heard her miserable thoughts, a car suddenly popped up on the horizon, moving in their direction quickly. The blonde stopped, her sisters following the motion along.

Bela looked at the youngest and asked: “So… Daniela. You were boasting about you learning how to drive a car for a while now. Care to give it a try?”

The redhead laughed awkwardly, before saying, in a meek voice: “Suuure.” She then proceeded to wipe some spots of blood from her mouth with a wet cloth, Cassandra following the motion along.

Cassandra grinned evilly as she eyed the approaching deep blue 1950s Mercedes-Benz Ponton.

“A snack and a vehicle, all in one package, how fortunate we are, sisters.”

Bela frowned at that, before responding in her authoritative voice: “We are not killing this human, sister. You’ll have your snack and more once we get to our prey.”

“Where's the fun in that?” The brunette mumbled, disappointingly.

Bela nodded at Daniela, who took to the middle of the road and waved at the approaching car, motioning it to stop. The redhead was an enchanting sight nowadays. She was dressed in her black sneakers and colourful summer dress that went to her knees. With healthy-looking skin and a wide smile that showed her pearly-white teeth; her beautiful and youthful face that had just enough darker make-up to give her the contrast she liked, few would be able to resist her charms. Her long, auburn hair with a small shaved spot on the left as well as a flower tattoo on the forehead gave Daniela a rebellious and playful look. 

The car stopped, and out of the window popped the head of the driver, a middle-aged tanned man in a simple straw hat. He was likely a worker in the rice fields nearby. His hungry eyes roamed the redhead’s curvy body as he asked: “You girls heading my way?”

As the man stared at Daniela, he missed Cassandra approaching him. The brunette muttered: “No, you’re heading our way.” before opening the door and dragging the man out forcefully, before savagely slamming his head against the door of his own car multiple times, until he stopped struggling. Unceremoniously tossing the unconscious body into a ditch nearby, she looked back at Bela, who observed the work her sisters did. The middle sister asked, in a frustrated tone: “Happy?”

The blonde winced at the violent sight, but nodded, before answering: “Well done, sisters! Let’s hurry up now!” 

Daniela took her seat at the wheel, hands grasping the object unsteadily, while Bela moved her way to the front passenger seat. Cassandra took to the back, lying on the both free seats, instead of sitting on one.

Giving the redhead thumbs up, Bela made sure to put a seatbelt on. 

Every motion Daniela made next was slow and deliberate. Moving the car forward slightly, she rotated the vehicle around steadily. Her hands were bone-white from gripping the wheel so tightly and sweat was beading on her forehead. She was deathly quiet and her yellow eyes were wide open as her foot put just a tiny bit of pressure on the gas and the car moved in the direction they needed to go, albeit very slowly.

“Step on it, grandma, we don’t have all day!” Came out an annoyed yell from the backseat.

At that, the redhead suddenly lets out a piercing shriek, before stomping on the gas with all her might, the car lurching forward violently. 

***

“Finally she starts to speak my language! I won’t beat around the bush then.” Sebastian yelled out and smirked, as his green eyes shamelessly took in all the shorter woman’s body.

“The board wants to restart production of E-001. Our most valuable client in particular is dying to get their hands on it. Yet we found ourselves all the way back to square one with it. After your failure to contain the subject in Dulvey, by the time any of our teams could get there, Blue Umbrella had wiped the area clean. Our mutual acquaintance - Miranda - would not even entertain any offers I made for additional samples from her. How well that worked out for her. Again, by the time we got there ourselves, every viable sample was ash and only the useless crystallized husks were left lying around.”

Mia listened carefully, curious, despite herself. As the man paused, she voiced her concerns: “So? Professor Schmidt surely kept some samples in our lab? He was always meticulous and prudent.”

An annoyance flashed in the man’s eyes at the name: “Ah, but now we arrive at the root of the issue. The good Herr Doktor unexpectedly decided to grow a conscience after hearing about what happened in Louisiana. What happened to you, his beloved protégé. The old fool burned down the lab, with all the notes and samples, and that was the last we ever saw of him.” 

Mia took the news in stride, though she was surprised. She admired the professor for his vast genius, yet she never took him as someone who cared about the consequences of his inventions. He was the perfect man for bioweapon R&D -  brilliant, driven and amoral, or so she thought. Sebastian continued talking: 

“Naturally, as the project overseer, a lot of the blame for these blunders fell on my shoulders. You weren’t the only one who had to struggle for your life in the past five years. I had to fight tooth and nail to regain my place and reaffirm my worth to the council.”

The woman just scoffed at that, before responding in a mocking tone:

“Boo hoo. You think I give a shit about your sob story? Give me a fucking break. You're the bastard who lured me into that mess in the first place! With your sweet promises of revolutionizing biomedical sciences while bypassing pharmaceutical corporations greed! I wanted to help people, and you made me make monsters instead! Kept me blind until I was too deep in to walk out!”

The man just laughed at her outburst, making Mia even angrier, her small hands clutching into fists.

“Such are the ways of humanity, dear. We all lie to get what we want. You were brilliant, yet naive back then. It would’ve been a crime for me not to use that charming youthful quality of yours. But, you know that better than anyone now, yes? Did you ever tell the love of your life your true title in our organization? Assistant chief scientific officer Mia Winters? Of course you didn’t. You wanted to have your slice of heaven with him, and if B.S.A.A. ever caught wind of the fact that you were behind Eveline all along, they would’ve taken everything from you. So you lied to everybody, to keep yourself happy. Tsk tsk , how selfish.”

At the accusation, Mia shrunk into her seat, the weight of his words heavy on her, for she knew them to be the truth. They all thought her to be a mere caretaker of Eveline, when she was instrumental in helping to create the bioweapon in the first place. The callous man at her side spoke once more:

“Now, you will help us restart this project. If you want your husband and child to remain safe, that is. Council doesn’t know about that, but I have my suspicions that dear old Ethan is more than an average Joe himself.” 

“Don’t you lay a finger on him! That was the deal!” Mia shrieked instantly at the voiced implication of Ethan’s condition. She kept it more secret than almost anything else.

Sebastian just nodded.

“The ‘deal’ is a courtesy from me, to you, Mia. Out of my personal respect for what you have achieved and what you have lived through. As long as you keep your part of the bargain, I’ll keep my suspicions about Ethan to myself.”

Mia calmed at that and inquired: “You say you don’t have any mold samples left, though? Even Professor Schmidt couldn’t synthesize it. I don’t think I’ll fare better.”

The man just chuckled at how eager the previously belligerent woman now sounded, before responding: 

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head over that. I have quite a sample flying right over to your new home as we speak.” 

***

As their old sedan lurched and weaved on the open road, Daniela kept screaming even as she tried to control the vehicle. 

Bela tried to soothe her unbalanced younger sibling: “Just relax, Dani! Take a deep breath! Damn!” The blonde cursed as their car almost flew off the road, before righting itself. She thanked God that the road was completely deserted. A head-on collision was not how she wanted this ride to end. Finally, the redhead calmed down a little and decided to spare them from her continued auditory assault. The car started moving in a straight line, though it did not slow down. 

“Well done, Dani!” The blonde muttered, even as she felt like vomiting. The rest of their ride went relatively smoothly. 

As they approached the place where Bela felt her fly to be, the elder sister motioned for Daniela to stop the vehicle. Leaving the car, the daughters continued on foot once again.

Soon, they saw a tiny, run-down roadside bar close to the deserted road. Two black sedans were parked near it. Deciding to scout the place first, Bela dispersed into her swarm form, this time leaving her dress and personal items lying on the ground. As she flew closer to the motel, she dispersed the swarm members far apart from each other, making sure not to attract any undue attention as she took a closer look.

Two men out front, well-built, some kind of communication device in their ears, looks like. Possibly bodyguards? To eliminate quickly and quietly first. 

Inside… Aha! Our target - the suits. And someone else is with them, though I can’t tell who it is from that distance with his large hat. No matter. Also two more bodyguards. Looks easy enough. Also, two people who look like a waitress and a barkeep are inside, as well. Hmmm.

Slowly returning back to her original spot, retrieving her missing fly on the way back, Bela coalesced inside her discarded clothing, soon looking as good as new. She then calmly conveyed her scouting run.

“There are four bodyguards in total from what I can see. Two outside, two inside. We should kill them quickly, lest they call reinforcements on us. We have both of our targets inside, talking to a third person. We should try to keep these people alive, though prevent them from calling for help, obviously. Also looks like there are two bar workers also in there. We should disable them, without killing them, hopefully.”

Both sisters listened attentively to their elder and nodded at the conclusion, though the brunette let out an annoyed scoff at the last part.

Bela continued: “There is no way to approach these guards in front without drawing their attention. Dani, can you distract them, while me and Cass try to sneak on them? We need to take them down quietly, above all.”

The redhead nodded her head vigorously, happy to do anything that would get them closer to mother. Being earnest by nature, she didn’t like the deceptions, yet she was quite aware of the charm she had on the opposite gender.

Bela rummaged in her backpack, finding her old ornate dagger. She hadn’t used it in quite a while. But her hand still remembered its weight well. All the lives it took. Suddenly, Cassandra’s own gloved hand gripped her wrist.

“Wait. Remember what I taught you before? If you want them to suffer, cut shallowly. If you want them to stay silent, cut deeply, making sure to sever the vocal cords.”

Bela nodded, before replying, her lips in a thin line.

“I remember it very well, sister.” 

Giving each other a glance and a nod, the girls proceeded with their plan, with Daniela approaching the bodyguards directly, while Bela and Cassandra lurked to the sides, out of sight.

The bodyguards saw the lone figure of a beautiful young woman approaching them slowly, yet clearly they had no idea of who she really was. Not identifying her as a threat, they traded glances and stared at her, without radioing in or getting their firearms out.

Daniela gave them a stunning smile and a playful wave with one hand, before addressing them, making sure to pull her colorful summer dress down with her delicate hand, showing just a bit of cleavage.

“Hello, boys! It’s so hot today! Aren’t you burning up in your dark suits under the sun right now?”

The left one just stared, his eyes following Daniela’s dainty hand, while the right one actually answered, in a gruff voice:

“For this kind of pay, a little bit of discomfort is no biggie. Where are you coming from? Did you come all the way on foot?”

Daniela just beamed on him and answered: “Nah, my car broke down some way back there! Can you believe that? Such misfortune!”

The left one became animated at that and spoke in a chipper voice: “Oh, maybe I can go help the lady? I am pretty good with cars, what’s the model?”

The right one just hit him on the shoulder and muttered darkly: “Idiot, we are on the job, go chase the skirts on your days off.” 

Before the conversation could continue, Bela and Cassandra were in positions to carry out their silent executions. With practiced synchronicity, both women slashed the throats of their respective targets, their blades biting deep. Both men, clutching on their cut throats tried to say something, yet the only sound they could make was deep gurgling.

Cassandra held her victim in her strong arms easily and started drinking greedily from the gushing wound she just inflicted. Bela cleared her throat and pointed one finger towards the shoddy bar. Cassandra sighed, but nodded and released the man, who dropped like a sack of rocks on the ground. After dragging the bodies behind a sedan to obstruct them from sight from the road, the girls went inside.

Done with stealth, the moment the daughters entered the motel, Cassandra lunged at the bodyguards, who were playing cards at a small table. Her sickle found the first of them within seconds, the man not even reacting as his brain was pierced by a wickedly sharp weapon from behind. The second man, despite his shock, kicked the table towards Cassandra, hoping to get some space between himself and the vicious woman who had just killed his partner in cold blood. Instead, the brunette merely jumped over it, landing next to the shocked bodyguard, who was now gripping his sidearm, trying to aim at the middle child.

Her sickle still embedded in the skull of the now lying corpse, Cassandra opted to simply put her gloved hands on the still sitting man's throat, suffocating him. The last bodyguard fired his sidearm at her twice then, but beyond giving her hunting outfit two new holes, it did little to stop her. Her vicious amber orbs were locked onto his own dark grey eyes, as she choked the life out of him. An expression of savage glee was etched into her face as the man’s despair at his predicament became clear.

As something in him finally gave way to her brutish strength with a loud ‘snap’, Cassandra slammed her full black lips into his own, giving the soon to be dead man a long, brutal kiss, stealing his last breath ever.

Meanwhile, Daniela went after the waitress and the barkeep with her Desert Eagle drawn up. As she pointed the gun at them, she yelled hysterically, motioning with her free hand wildly: “Get on the ground and don’t move, or I’m gonna fill you with lead!” The bar workers obeyed instantly, like it was not their first rodeo. Daniela remained standing over their prone bodies.

While Cassandra dealt with the guards and Daniela intimidated the help, Bela went straight for the trio of VIPs. Not giving them an introduction, she viciously kicked their table, making the glasses and papers fly in every direction. Letting out a curse, the male official swung his fist at her. Flowing away from the clumsy attack, the blonde backhanded him savagely, making him stumble back before impacting the bar counter. The female official screamed and begged for mercy, while the third man finally turned his face up and towards her. Bela’s dark blood boiled in her mimicry of veins upon seeing him here.

“Hello...Darius.”

Chapter 5: Bound for Adventure

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Following Chris’ advice, Ethan got into contact with the Duke. The man sounded as jolly as ever on the phone. Seemed like the humble merchant was already informed of the blonde man’s tough situation, likely by Chris himself. Before Ethan could get into any details, the Duke assured him that he will have a trusted man escort Ethan and Rose to safety and comfort and that telecommunications were to be avoided nowadays. They will continue their conversation in person. 

As he packed his bags, Ethan looked out of the window. It was a calm night, at least, no rain clouds on the horizon for once. The full moon was shining down brightly. The blonde man let out a sigh of frustration at his current predicament.

Am I really doing it? Running away with Rose to seek shelter with the Duke of all people? He did help me a lot two years ago, and Chris seems to be trusting him now. But still… maybe I should just stay here, pretend nothing happened, live my life with Rose… 

The man was taken out of his reverie by a soft knock on the door to his apartment. Taking out his 9mm pistol, Ethan clicked the safety off and hid it in the back of his jeans, before approaching the door. Seeing a single lean brunette man standing casually outside, Ethan opened the door warily.

The man outside wasted no time in extending a hand in greeting, smiling warmly on the blonde man.

“Name’s Tom! I work for the Duke.”

Briefly shaking the offered hand, Ethan let the man in, though he was still cautious. Tom looked perfectly average, if a bit tall, someone who would never draw eyes in a crowd. He was dressed in a simple two-piece grey suit.

“The Duke promised he will help me and Rose disappear?” asked Ethan, even as he scrutinized the tall brunette man now inside his apartment. 

Tom smiled happily and nodded, before answering: “That’s right, Mister Winters. The Duke instructed me to see you both safe and sound to his own floating fortress, where you can meet in person. You’re up against some dangerous people now, so you made the right choice in contacting our benefactor. The sooner we are gone from here, the better I’ll feel, myself!”

Ethan clenched his fists as he thought about that.

If I follow this stranger into the night now, there will not be coming back. Is this really what I want for Rose? No… but what else can I do? I will never feel safe here again and I am not just abandoning Mia. Duke and Chris will help me fix this, I trust them to do at least that.

Now set in his course, Ethan quickly went to Rose’s room and gently woken the small girl up.

“Hello, love. You and daddy are going on an adventure together! Get dressed, sunshine.”

His daughter’s green-grey eyes opened slowly, before she spoke, sounding sleepy: “Adventurr, daddy?”

Ethan just nodded, before kissing her forehead with as much love as he could muster. His baby girl. He would do anything to keep her safe. Giving her a moment to wake up fully, the man started pacing around the room, collecting things he knew his daughter loved, before packing them into a bag.

As he was done, he noted that Rosemary was now dressed and at his side, wide awake now. Gently taking a hold of her tiny hand, the father walked back into the living room where Tom still stood, seemingly unmoved from the last time Ethan saw him.

Rose took one look at the weird stranger before squealing lightly and hiding behind Ethan’s legs.

“It’s alright, Rose. Tom is a friend.”

“Where is mommy?”

Ethan grit his teeth at the question. How do you tell your three-year old that her mother decided to leave, possibly forever, to keep them from harm? 

“Mommy is gone on her own adventure, sweetie, by herself.”

“Without...us?” Rose sounded close to tears. The precious angel could read the mood so well already.

“Without us, sweetie. But she told us to have a lot of fun on our own adventure! You’re going to do what mommy asked like a good girl, won’t you?”

The tiny girl just sniffed and nodded. 

Tom observed the conversation with respectable silence, yet he kept throwing glances at his watch. Seeing the man’s hurried expression, Ethan made sure to check his bags for the necessities before nodding to him and walking out of the apartment, still clutching Rose's hand, not letting go.

***

Bela took her bloodied knife out, playing with it as she spoke:

“So, Darius. What made you think it’s a good idea to betray us? I refuse to believe that Duke would do that to us, so I’ll just assume this was your own poor initiative.”

The female official shot glances from the blonde with a knife in her face, to the armed redhead standing in the back over the subdued staff, to the brunette who was pulling her sickle out of their bodyguard’s skull with a wet squelch. 

Darius spoke, calmly: “You’re right, Miss Bela. This was my own initiative. Duke has no idea about this.”

The male official, clutching his bloodied nose, interrupted the larger man and roared out a challenge: 

“You dumb bitches! You have no idea who you are dealing with here! We are protected by the Nightcrawler! You can’t touch us!”

At that, he was slammed hard into the wall by a dark shadow; a nearby hanging framed picture of a sunset falling down and breaking in pieces at the violent impact. Cassandra held the small man by the throat with one hand and slowly began, using the wall as leverage, lifting him up. The female official screamed at the sight of sudden violence and cried out: “Shut the hell up Vicente! Nightcrawler isn’t here! They can do whatever the fuck they want with us!”

Bela hummed in satisfaction at that before noting: “Smart girl.” She nodded at Darius to continue.

The rough man did so: “It was nothing personal, girls. You know I liked working for you. But they have been searching for you for a long time. And they found me instead. They made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.” 

Bela raised a brow at how calm the man was. He had to realize he wasn’t coming out of this alive, did he not? She had so many more questions, though.

“They have been searching for us for a long time? Why?”

“I wouldn’t know that, perhaps my friends here would like to share what they know?”

The female official sobbed at that, before crying out: “We don’t know anything, I swear to you! All we had to do was to procure specified equipment, as ordered by the Nightcrawler. Then we gave it to the Dire Wolf mercenary company, as well as your location and instructions that were passed to us. Then we passed payment to them on delivery of the subject. That’s it!” Bela’s eyes hardened at the word ‘subject’. “Please, spare us, I beg you, I have a young daughter myself! She is just six years old!”

Cassandra scoffed at that, before asking, viciously: “Surely we don’t need this wretched meatsack? Can I have him, sister?”

Bela nodded, uncaring of that man’s fate: “You may do with him as you please, sister.”

Whatever defiance the male official still had in his eyes evaporated at that and was replaced by pure, unadulterated fear as he cried out for mercy that would never come from the brunette: “No, wait! I’ve got lots of money! I’ll give you anything you want!” 

Cassandra just hung her head back at that and laughed loudly, evilly, before calming down and focusing her gaze on the man in her grasp.

“You’re right! You’ll give me what I want, right now.” Before the man could respond, she opened her mouth wide and savagely bit into where his neck met his shoulder. She then began feasting on his flesh, even as he screamed in agony. The female official whimpered at her colleague’s grisly fate, but kept quiet.

Bela hummed as she kept playing with her knife, a neutral, almost bored expression on her face. She asked her next question:

“Who is this ‘nightcrawler’ you refer to? I am sure Cassandra will love to meet him next.”

The female official answered, even as she shook from every cry of pain that came from Vicente.

“We… don’t know his or her true identity or location. They are the one who organize everything like what happened to your family. They offered the contract to the mercs. They instructed us to support them. They are a… problem solver.”

Darius nodded at that, adding his own experience with that person: “He, or she, got into contact with me as well. They told me that they knew exactly where my own family was and then described to me in great detail what would happen to them if I don’t provide your location as well as everything I knew about your biology and capabilities. You have to understand, I couldn’t refuse that. They said I would be free to go once you were brought under control. They wanted you alive. Your unique fungal-based DNA intrigued them greatly.”

In between taking vicious bites of her still-living and suffering prey, Cassandra mouthed off: “Maybe we should go visit your little family ourselves next. Show them what happens to the traitors.”

That finally broke Darius’ calm facade: “No! Just kill me, but don’t you freaks touch my family!”

“We won’t.” reassured him Bela, calmly. She then asked the most important of all questions.

“Where did they take mother?”

The female clerk answered that: “There is an island in the Atlantic which they use as a resupply and logistics base. I don’t know where the final destination of that jet is, but it’s very likely they would’ve stopped to refuel there. I know the coordinates of that island, here!”

“That’s all you know?” 

“I swear, that’s it! I told you everything I knew! They kept us all in the dark as much as they could, I wasn’t even supposed to know about the island if not for the error on their part! You have to believe me! Please, just let me go, I’ll quit! I will never bother you ever again!”

She is quick to plead for mercy now, yet it was her choice to work for these people in the first place. It was her choice to sign up on the attack on my family. I cannot forgive it. I won't forgive it.

Bela sighed and said, slowly: “I believe you.” In a single, smooth and fast motion, she impaled her knife right into the woman’s forehead, dead-center, likely killing her instantly. The female clerk tumbled to the floor and didn’t move.

The elder daughter focused her amber gaze on the tanned man who looked like he had made his peace with his own fate. She took more than a moment to scrutinize his features. Finally she spoke, her voice soft.

“Call Duke right now. Inform him of your betrayal and pass me the phone.”

As the man did what he was told without complaint, Bela looked at Cassandra, still greedily devouring the man she held against the wall. He was still alive, if his waning cries of pain were any indication. Daniela stood still over the staff, her own features hard, though her eyes betrayed her hunger. Bela felt her own lust for blood spike, the long day of physical exertion finally catching up to her. Before she could consider taking a bite herself, a phone was offered to her. Quickly taking it without glancing at the man, she spoke calmly.

“Duke. We are in some trouble, as you now know. We’d appreciate some assistance.”

The man spoke back, though not in his usual jolly tone. He sounded somber for once: “Miss Dimitrescu, I cannot begin to express my grief at these horrible events that you and your sisters had to live through. Anything I can do for you, you just have to name it.”

“We will need your help to get our mother back. We will also need your contacts to help us learn the identity of the person who took her.”

“Of course, my dear. I will send my quickest ship to pick you up so that we can meet in person. I’ll spare no resources to recover Lady Alcina and to find the men who did this.”

“Very good, Duke, I knew we could trust you. The Dimitrescu family will repay your kindness.”

“I only have to ask for one thing from you, my lady.”

“What is it?”

“Would you consider showing leniency to my man, Darius? I had known him for a long time, and his loyalty was always beyond question. He only committed this despicable act out of his desire to protect his own family, a sentiment I know you share. Do this as a personal favor to me, for old time’s sake.”

Bela clicked her tongue at that, as she considered the request, before replying:

“Cassandra won’t be happy with that… But alright, as a favor to you.”

Ending the call, Bela returned the phone to the resigned man, before addressing him, in a harsh tone.

“You may go. If I ever see your face again, know that I will show no mercy.”

The man looked at her as if slapped: “You’d let me go? After I betrayed your family?”

“Consider it your reward from the Duke, for years of loyal service. Now get lost before I change my mind.” 

Accepting the miracle that just happened, Darius quickly left the bar, though not before saying one last line to the blonde: “Thank you, Miss Bela. I will forever remember this act of mercy…”

Cassandra finally dropped the body she was consuming at that, before turning her horrible and bloodied expression at the elder sister. 

“The fuck? How could you just let that treacherous rat leave here alive?”

Bela drummed her fingers loudly on the bar counter she approached, as she responded to the vicious brunette: “You already ended eight people today, Cass. Not satisfied yet?”

“Of course not! I won’t be satisfied until I am through with Every. Single. One. of these fuckers. All of them must bleed for their crime. And you just let one of them off the hook, just like that.” Cassandra snapped her fingers to articulate her point.

Bela, not stopping her drumming, looked at the middle child then and said, in her strong, elder sister voice.

“We will get mother back. And we will kill anyone who gets in our way. This, I promise to you.”

 

***

 

Looking at the assembled faces, Chris was proud to call many of them his friends. Bonds, forged in fire and blood, were stronger than steel, and that is what it will take now. After today, there would be no going back. They will all put a mark on their own backs.

“It’s not too late to back down. Nobody will look down on you.”

Nobody said a word. Everyone here knew the score. There would be no backing down for they were not the ones who struck the first blow.

“Let's go kick their asses then.”

Notes:

I hope I didn't portray Bela as too callous here. I'd still to keep her as more humane of the trio, but she is under a lot of stress now. Meeting Duke and Ethan soon should help her share her burdens and open her up as a nicer person.

Chapter 6: Reunion

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The Dimitrescu sisters wasted no time in leaving the run-down bar in the middle of nowhere behind. The two members of the staff that gave them no issues during the ‘negotiations’ were left unharmed physically, but mentally they were surely scarred by the horrible experience they just lived through.

Or maybe not. “You’re on corpse disposal today, Carlos.” The female said, standing up and dusting off her uniform. The man just nodded, grimly, as he looked over their ruined bar and all the corpses and blood that now decorated it.

***

Daniela at the wheel of their stolen car once again, the girls went on to rendezvous with the Duke’s contact, near the shore.

Bela stared, unblinking, straight ahead as the car lurched back and forth. They have survived the ambush at their house and the violence that followed, yet Daniela’s reckless and rough driving felt like yet another mortal challenge that had to be overcome today to the blonde. 

Sharing a collective sigh of relief with Cassandra as they miraculously reached their destination in one piece, the girls disembarked the car. Approaching a small group of men and women all bearing the insignia of the Four Houses - Duke’s new emblem - they all felt somewhat tense. They were just betrayed by a person not unlike these ones, after all. Cassandra hissed and was actually about to attack before a small hand on her shoulder stopped her.

“Wait, Cass! I know it’s hard to trust the humans again, but we have no choice! We cannot hope to save mother by ourselves! We need their aid if we want to succeed in our endeavour!”

Feeling her elder sister's reassuring voice and sound logic, the brunette relaxed her tense shoulders and nodded, before looking into Bela's soothing amber orbs with her own vicious ones.

“You’re right, as always, sister. But know this...if these humans decide to betray us too, I will have no mercy for them. Their screams will echo across the land.”

Bela nodded at her younger sister, not breaking eye contact.

“I won’t stop you if that happens.”

Satisfied, the three sisters approached the strangers. Their likely leader - a medium height, slender woman with a ponytail in a simple dark two-piece suit greeted them warmly, thought cautiously as she saw their bloodied forms.

“Greetings, my friends. The Duke has sent us to escort you to safety of his own private ship.” The woman with a black ponytail motioned at a small motorboat, moored to the shore behind them. 

Bela approached the shorter woman slowly, holding her head tall. Looking down into her grey eyes, the blonde spoke softly, but firmly:

“We thank you for your assistance… you will have to forgive my sisters for being on edge. We’ve lived through a series of unfortunate events recently and I am afraid our patience for... lapses in loyalty has reached its limit.”

The threat was clear in her statement and the shorter woman nodded, even as she slightly gulped in fear. She clearly knew that the three bloodied girls could tear her and her men apart with their bare hands, if provoked.

“Of course, my lady. There will be no lapses in loyalty here, I assure you.”

Bela took a moment to scrutinize the shorter woman with her piercing amber eyes, searching for signs of deceit. Letting out a satisfied humm, the elder sister motioned for the rest of the Dimitrescu siblings to board the boat.

With everyone aboard, the motorboat was quick to depart the shoreline, heading into the ocean.

Bela let out a deep sigh of relief as she was bathed in pleasant and warm trade winds. The summer sun shined brightly down on them and the smell of salty ocean water tingled her nostrils in a satisfying way. This was a welcome respite after the carnage they had endured earlier today. The sisters took the time to clean themselves up - smeared dried blood all over and bits of flesh and brain matter in one’s hair was not a way to make good impressions on their gracious host, after all. 

It took them two hours to reach a large, luxurious yacht that was waiting for them in international waters. The majestic ship proudly bore its name - Nouă Speranță, on its hull. Daniela’s eyes went wide at the sight as she spoke in a shocked tone.

“Is that Duke’s? Wow… he sure has moved up in the world…” 

Cassandra scoffed and folded her arms as she inspected the fine vessel herself. She added, scornfully.

“Thanks to our family’s wealth, sister.”

Bela noted diplomatically at that.

“Our wealth helped him to get where he is now, for sure. Yet you can’t forget about his own vast mercantile talents and widespread connections, Cassandra. The Duke made his own fortune.”

Boarding the luxurious yacht, the Dimitrescu girls were immediately greeted by the large man they all knew so well. He spoke solemnly, though his eyes blazed with determination.

“Ah, my dear girls. I am so overjoyed to see at least you three to be safe and sound. I swear it on my honor that I will do everything in my power to bring Lady Alcina back.”

Bela hummed happily at that. She inspected the Duke - he hadn’t changed much. Still the same morbidly obese man with a jolly smile and pristine, cherub-like face. He was now dressed sharply in an expensive-looking white suit and a pair of designer shoes. That same Four House insignia was decorating his suit, right under the heart. The blonde daughter spoke in a warm tone, after she made a small bow of respect and gratitude.

“Thank you for everything, Duke. I am truly happy to see you in good health, yourself. We have a couple of leads I wanted to discuss with you.”

The rotund man smiled at that, but noted, somewhat sheepishly.

“Ah, perhaps that can wait for a bit? We are actually on the way to pick up two more passengers, and trust me when I tell you - this concerns them as much as it does you three. It will only be fair for him to take part in planning our next move.”

A list of potential people run through Bela’s bright head at that. 

Whoever could he mean by that, hmm? Two more passengers… ‘him’? Well, it doesn't matter. If Duke feels like we need this man to save mother, I’ll trust him.

We could use some time to unwind and relax ourselves. Rushing forward blindly never worked out well for anyone.

“I see… Well, let’s make ourselves at home as we wait for the mysterious guests, girls. A small break will do us some good.”

Even though the Dimitrescu girls wanted to attempt to rescue their mother as quickly as possible, they were all utterly exhausted from the bloody events of the day. Nodding their tired heads, they went deeper inside the yacht, in search of food and rest. The crew was more than accommodating. 

Daniela, still worried sick about her beloved mother, was agitated and engorged herself on all kinds of sweet snacks that were offered to her. She had a habit of eating vast amounts of sweets when nervous. She soon found herself an empty bed and quickly fell asleep, though even in dreams, she was restless. 

Cassandra, more independent and aloof by nature, could relax easier, trusting Bela and Duke to get them out of this mess. The brunette went ahead to sunbathe on the yacht's upper tier. The crew, apparently informed about her violent and unpredictable ways, gave her the space without complaint. She would occasionally call out for food and drink, that would be provided immediately.

Bela was ravenous. Unlike her sisters, she never stopped to take a bite out of their assailants or victims today. Locating a canteen, she proceeded to devour vast quantities of meat, cooked rare as she liked it. The crew watched in horror as the slender woman consumed enough to last a grown adult male for days, in mere minutes.

After that, Bela took her time to get acquainted with the ship and its crew, making small, casual conversations to learn about its history. She was ever curious. After thirty minutes of walking around or so, feeling tired, she snoozed off - curled in a sofa in a corner of some hallway. A couple of her flies detached themselves from her body to keep watch, and to wake her up if something warranted her attention.

***

Ethan, Rose and Tom unknowingly repeated the journey undertaken by the three sisters some hours ago.

Instead of using a boat, the small group was picked up by a helicopter. The aircraft was small, but fast and sturdy and, surprising Ethan, it took the group half the way across the Atlantic ocean.

Rose took all the recent events like a true champion and barely complained or even cried about her suddenly missing mother or the fact that she was yanked out of her bed in the middle of the night to travel God knows where. How Ethan wished to ease the tiny girl’s burdens, yet if she had any, she kept them locked tight inside herself. The daughter was eager for any comfort offered, however and would always lean eagerly into the father’s loving hugs. Ethan secretly hoped someone would comfort him, too.

Tom tried to entertain the child as well as her distraught father with some fancy card tricks, but quickly gave up as they only rewarded him with blank stares for his effort. The journey by air took around twelve hours. Ethan felt like it was the longest twelve hours of his life. He dozed off a couple of times, no longer than an hour each time. 

The tiny girl at his side was snoring lightly as they finally reached what looked like their destination - a large, luxurious yacht with a small helipad in the front. Gently waking up his daughter, they disembarked the helicopter as it landed on the ship.

They were met by the familiar and unchanged shape of the Duke as well as a smaller woman with a ponytail at his side. Tom walked briskly to the woman and gave her a small hug, which she returned gladly. Duke was quick to raise his massive arms into air, in a warm greeting, as he spoke, in his same old jolly tone.

“What a joy it is to see you again, after all this time, Mister Winters! And beautiful young Rosemary, as well! I only wish it was under better circumstances we were reunited.”

Ethan could only nod respectfully, before thanking the owner of the ship.

“I can’t thank you enough for all the help you’ve provided for us already, Duke. And here you are again, bailing my ass out of the fire once more… Rose, say hello to the nice man… We owe a lot to him.”

The small girl who was hiding behind her dad’s leg, stepped forth to give a shy “hello”. She was clearly scared of the large man.

Giving a mirthful laugh, Duke makes an inviting gesture to his guests. He speaks in the mock confidant tone next.

“We have some interesting mutual acquaintances on board, Mister Winters. I think you will be overjoyed to meet some of them, after all this time.”

Tom asks his female colleague, at that: “How did that meeting go, Millie?” 

The woman shudders and answers, as if recalling a particularly unpleasant memory: “Ugh, don’t even ask. I think I’ll be seeing these freakish yellow eyes in my nightmares for the rest of my life.”

Ethan can only stare dumbly at that.

Mutual acquaintances? Yellow eyes? They can’t mean…’them’...can they?

As the group made their way down from the helipad, the blonde father heard the unerringly familiar gentle voice calling out to him. He never expected to hear that beautiful, melodical tone ever again.

“Ethan…?”

Looking at the source of the voice, Ethan can’t believe his eyes.

There stands the changed, yet unmistakable figure of Bela Dimitrescu, the kind vampire who aided him in his biggest hour of need two years ago.

One would struggle to connect this gorgeous woman with the bloodied, black-clad and grey-skinned vampire from that time.

Bela, dressed in simple shoes and a long, bright yellow summer dress that went down to her knees, has her own wide molten gold eyes locked on Ethan in disbelief. She is remarkably less pale than she was two years ago - her skin now is almost healthy-looking. She still has her ruby pendant and the black flower tattoo on her forehead, yet it looks remarkably less sinister with the rest of her current outfit to go along with. She also still has her long, soft-looking locks of blonde hair, almost shining in sunlight. The only visible indication that she is, in fact, a dangerous and powerful creature are some smears of dried blood on her summer dress.

Taken aback by the shock of seeing Bela again and her undeniable radiant beauty Ethan can only stare at her as he mumbles out her name.

“Bela…?”

It’s like the rest of the world ceased to exist for a moment and just two of them were left, staring at each other, two pairs of wide eyes.

As they slowly approached one another, the woman couldn’t help but admire the man herself. Clearly he kept himself in shape in the two years they were apart. His kind, grey-brown eyes were locked onto her own amber orbs. His unkempt dirty blond hair and dark circles under the eyes spoke volumes about the stress he had experienced in the last two weeks. Yet he was, obviously to her, still the same kind and enduring man that she had entrusted her own family’s fate to. The strength and conviction in his gaze was indisputable. Here was a man who would venture into Hell and back for those he called family. A kindred soul to Bela.       

As they stopped mere inches from one another, still as if entranced by each other’s mere presence, so far away from where they originally met - their eyes were on the same level now. 

“Hi…” Ethan mumbled awkwardly, his brain denying him the capacity for a more complex greeting at the moment.

“Hi…” She repeated, softly, her expression serene once again. The spoken words were enough to finally break the trance the two found themselves in. The rest of the world returned and the kindred souls found a number of gazes locked on them, some with mirth and some with surprise in them.

“Oh, perhaps we should give you two some space? Let’s get going, friends!” Says the Duke cheerfully, even as he motions for his two helpers to move along, soon leaving just Bela, Ethan and Rose in that part of the ship.

Humming awkwardly, Bela takes her time to admire the daughter at the father’s side. The girl looks back at the tall woman with unbridled curiosity in her eyes, yet shows no fear. Bela kneels down before the fateful child.

“And you are young Rose, I presume… My, you’ve grown so big already! Did daddy tell you everything he had to go through for your sake? I am Bela, by the way! So nice to finally meet you...whole.”

Ethan, with a slight blush of his own at their awkward reunion finally finds his capacity for coherent speech back. Rose kept quiet, clearly too busy drinking in the strange woman’s features to respond. 

“Oh, come on, Bela… She is just a small kid, she doesn’t need to know all this stuff…”

Giggling at that, the woman stood back up to her full height before giving Ethan another long gaze.

The man felt heat coming back to his face at such close proximity to her piercing, yet kind eyes and especially her soft, full lips. He still remembered their touch upon his cheek two years ago, the gesture was just that shocking. He would be lying to himself if he said he never thought about her again after leaving Romania. Her unexpected kindness in that dark, cold place full of nothing but death and misery. Her sharp wit, surprisingly gentle touch and fair features came to him in pleasant dreams more than once. 

Bela brought a single, dainty hand up as if to cup Ethan’s cheek, the same one she kissed so long ago. Before she could do so, they were interrupted by a shrill cry of delight.

“Bela! You have to try this strawberry cake… Oh my God! Is that Mister Winters!?”

Daniela the redhead wasted no time in leaping at the shocked man and grasping him in her death-grip, smearing his back with her cake meanwhile. Her slender frame belied her inhuman strength and the man felt the breath pushed out from his lungs from her bone-crushing embrace.

Carefully prying her younger sister off Ethan, Bela looked at them both with fondness in her eyes. Daniela just mumbled happily.

“Bela told us about what you did, Mister Winters! How you went against Miranda herself to save us all from her! I am so sorry for what we did to you before! Can you ever forgive us?”

Even though Daniela never made quite the impression on Ethan like her two sisters did, he still remembered her wild, crazy eyes well.

Just like Bela, the redhead was no longer in her sinister black robed dress and instead had a beautiful, colorful summer dress on her slender frame. Her wide yellow eyes contained genuine, undisguised mirth. She never harmed or helped Ethan, yet he could still remember the clear implication made by Cassandra that her passiveness only came from the fact that she was fell-sated back then. Not to mention the redhead’s own stated desire to devour his flesh... Still, he wasn’t petty enough to hold something she would have potentially done to him against her now. She looked so carefree and happy right now, the man couldn’t help but give her a warm smile back, even as he felt pieces of smeared cake dribble down his back.

“It’s fine, Daniela. I forgive you.”

Squealing in joy, the redhead spinned in place, before suddenly making Ethan’s blood chill in his veins at her next gesture.

Her slim hand shot into a pistol holster that was tied to her leg and quickly grabbed a Desert Eagle before aiming it right at his head. Even as she did the threatening gesture, she spoke in her mirthful voice, her mouth wide in a cheerful grin and with no malice in her eyes whatsoever.

“Look, Mister Winters! I am a gunslinger like you now! BANG BANG!”

Bela was quick to force Daniela to lower the firearm, gently but firmly pushing her hands down. The blonde woman gave a sheepish laugh as she spoke.

“Sorry Ethan! Cassandra gave us some lessons with guns when she picked up that hobby, but she obviously skipped the firearm safety course… I see we need to remedy this issue immediately…”

With guilt in her eyes now, Daniela spoke meekly.

“Did I do something wrong again..?”

Looking at her sister fondly, Bela, nevertheless, spoke in her harsh, elder sister tone.

“Yes, Daniela! Never point a gun at anyone you don’t want to kill! Most people aren’t like us, they can’t survive being hit in the head with that thing!”

The redhead frowned before speaking, sounding truly apologetic.

“I am sorry sister… I am sorry Mister Winters! I didn’t mean any harm... “

Ethan could only awkwardly run a hand through his dirty blonde hair at the sight. The redhead seemed completely genuine, if impulsive in everything she did. At her honest, remorseful expression he found himself to be unable to be truly cross at the woman.

“It’s fine, Daniela...just don’t do it again, alright?”

Nodding her head vigorously, Daniela’s eyes fell upon the small girl behind Ethan. Gasping in delight at the sight, she wanted to immediately leap at the child, but to father’s relief, was held back by Bela.

“Is that little Rose!? OH MY GOD! SHE IS SO CUTE! Can I play with her!? I will be super gentle, I swear! Oh, I could eat her right up! Well, not literally... I mean I guess I could... not that I ever would...ugh...nevermind!”

The volume and the pitch of her voice almost made Ethan want to cover his ears with his hands. Feeling apprehensive at the notion of leaving his precious angel at the unstable redheaded woman’s side, he looked at Bela, pleading with her with his eyes. Understanding his discomfort, the blonde woman nodded and spoke softly, yet with finality in her tone.

“Perhaps later, Dani? Ethan and his daughter are surely exhausted from their own journey. We should not bother them too much.”

The crazy woman pouted, but relented and smiling gently on Ethan and Rose, spoke, sounding genuinely happy.

“I am so glad to see you guys here… We have had some hard times ourselves… It’s so nice to see some more friendly faces. We will surely save mother now!” 

Pumping her fist into the air at the last exclamation, the redhead went back into the innards of the ship, likely in search of more sweet treats. Looking at Bela questionably, Ethan didn’t have to wait long for elaboration. She spoke even as she approached him from behind, to clean his simple blue shirt from the confection still glued to it with a handkerchief she produced.

“Some people abducted mother, Ethan. We aim to get her back. We could use your help again, if you’d be willing to aid us after everything, of course…”

To say Ethan was shocked at the news would be an understatement.

Their mother? The nine-foot plus lady with blades for fingernails? Who would be foolish enough to kidnap her? Could it be the same people Mia went to work for, perhaps... Who else would possibly have the resources and the motivation to go for Lady Dimitrescu herself? Jesus Christ…

“I’ll help. If these are the same people I think they are, I have a debt to settle with them myself.”

Not wanting to pry into his reasons for the moment, the woman was grateful for his quick acceptance. It was time to talk with the Duke. Heading to the yacht owner’s cabin, Ethan and Rose following, Bela murmured softly.

“Thank you, Ethan. Mother means the world to us…Regardless of circumstances, I am truly glad to meet you here. If we have to undertake this journey, there are few people I’d want to have at my side as much as you.”

Touched at the woman’s words, the blonde man responded quietly.

“Same. It seems like we found ourselves in another mess...but I am sure we can come out of it in one piece if we work together. It’s… nice to see you again, by the way…”

Giggling at his shy tone for a few seconds, Bela could only humm in satisfaction. She was more than merely content at this sudden turn of events. She thought more than once about the man now trailing behind her. How he turned from just one more victim in their dungeons to their saviour. And he was quite easy on the eyes, too… Her heart melted as he started to gently soothe the small girl walking at his side.

And a fine father too… no matter what the cruel world throws at you, you just keep going forward, to protect the ones you love…

Bela spoke softly as she slowly walked forward.

“It’s nice to see you too, Ethan. I’ll make sure my sister won’t pester you too much. Daniela is a bit more excitable than normal because of the stress right now, but I am sure you guys will get along splendidly. She is a good person. My dear sisters can be...hard to deal with, sometimes, but they will both behave.”

At that, Ethan’s heart skipped a beat. A thought he desperately tried to ignore before was now his only concern.

‘Both sisters’... Cassandra is here too then, lurking somewhere in the ship, no doubt…

He remembered the brunette sister well. She also appeared in his dreams, occasionally. Or, more accurately, his nightmares. Her wicked, cruel giggling as she violated his flesh with her dirty knife. Her insane, merciless eyes never breaking contact with his own.

Ethan couldn’t help but gulp at the unwelcome realization that he will, very likely, have to meet her again soon.

The universe must truly get a kick from having him suffer, since, at that very moment, from the opposite hall the man heard the familiar cruel voice, saying his name exactly the same way she did the last time, two years ago.

Ethan.”

Stopping dead in his tracks, the man turned to face his foe. He was not a person easily cowed, not after everything he went through. Yet he would lie if he said he was not afraid of Cassandra.

Locking his gaze with her own immediately, he couldn’t help but gulp, audibly. She looked different now, just like her sisters - more human; yet her aura of unmistakable malice was still the same. Her burning eyes promised him unspeakable agony. For a couple of tense moments they stood, doing nothing but staring into each other's eyes. Ethan could tell that the psycho’s fingers were twitching erratically, even without looking at them.

Finally, the staring contest was interrupted by Bela, who stood in between them and let out a loud sigh, before speaking, in an authoritative voice that brooked no argument.

“That’s enough, Cassandra. You’re not to hurt Mister Winters in any way or form. Is that understood?”

Cassandra grinned evilly, making Ethan doubt the sincerity of her next words.

“Sure thing, mom. Whatever you say.”

Walking past the elder sister, who clicked her tongue in annoyance at the defiant tone, Cassandra winked at Ethan and went to do whatever it is she wanted to do, showing them her backside.

Finally having a chance to look down from her cruel eyes, the man was astounded to note her state of undress. The brunette had nothing but a two-piece black bikini on her, showing off her pale skin and more than that - her very athletic-looking and just-right curvy body. Her musculature was well-defined and her long, toned legs wouldn’t look out of place on a marathon runner. Ethan wasn’t sure if his next gulp came from fear...or some other emotion. 

Dat ass…

“Admiring my sister, already? And here I was worried you two wouldn’t get along…” 

The blonde that was at his side now spoke playfully, though her yellow eyes were narrowed just slightly.

Red in the face from embarrassment, Ethan just cleared his throat and went ahead to the owner’s cabin, Rosemary following him along.

For whatever reason, he was now dying to know whether Cassandra had such an athletic build even before her infection, or if their mimicry of the human form was advanced enough to allow for further development after. He gave voice to his query, sounding sheepish.

Bela just hummed before responding with a mysterious but playful tone.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

This will be an interesting journey, for sure…

Notes:

Sorry for the longer-than-normal wait for this update. Finished my other major story and the evil Cassandra oneshot so now I can focus completely on this story! Hope this update will be worth the wait, though :D It's so fun for me to write the sisters, I just hope I can do their personalities justice.

Also, just to make it clear, Ethan won’t be a horny dog in this story, but he IS a man of culture and can appreciate the assets of the fair gender.

Chapter 7: Plans & Bonds

Notes:

There is going to be a lot of exposition in this chapter and a lengthy 'bonding' session with Cassandra (A brutal fight, naturally) so I am sorry if that's not your thing, but I do feel like it would be a good way to develop plot.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Reaching the cabin of the Duke with no further incidents, Bela softly knocked on the door, ever well-mannered. The jovial man was quick to open up and to usher them in, showing his vast, luxurious personal quarters.

Ethan was dazzled by the wealth on display here. Glass shelves with small, no doubt expensive figurines peered at him from every corner. Every wall was decorated by a beautiful painting, done in various styles. Ethan was no collector himself, but he wouldn’t have been surprised if these were the original pieces. As a centerpiece, in the middle of the cabin was a large statue of a horseman, with its rider raising his sabre high. The statue was made of some green stone, possibly jade. A work desk with stacks upon stacks of documents, as well as a modern, full-sized computer were under the room’s sole porthole. There was no bed, so the blonde man presumed that the Duke slept somewhere else and this was more like a work space.

Ethan somberly noted that this cabin alone probably contained more wealth than he made in his whole life as a system engineer. Bela glanced at all the luxury with a clinical, detached expression. She likely evaluated the pieces quickly with her sharp eyes, but did not appear to be shocked by it.   

And why would she be? She is like a vampire princess herself… Am I the only person here without some tremendous wealth?

“Welcome, friends, to my humble abode!” Ever jolly, the Duke greeted them with mirth in eyes. Ethan barely suppressed a snort at that. To the large man’s side, his two, likely most trusted minions stood, with arms folded behind their backs: Millie and Tom.

Bela spoke next, however her eyes lingered on a particular painting on the east wall of the cabin. Ethan, following her gaze, found nothing particularly impressive about a portrait of a lady in an old-fashioned dress with a weasel or something in her arms. But what did he know about art?

“Quite a collection you have here, Duke. But I think it's finally time to discuss the predicament our mother is in and how we can all aid her.”

Duke nodded at that, his jovial mood quickly turning somber. He spoke quietly, but with clear conviction in his tone.

“Most right, my lady. But before we start, are you sure it is wise for young Rose to be present for this conversation? We have a room ready for you, Mister Winters, Tom here could escort the young miss there, while we proceed here.”

Ethan considered that for a moment. He didn’t want his daughter to leave his side amidst this unfamiliar ship, yet he also wished to avoid burdening the small child with all the serious talk that would take place here. At this point, he trusted the Duke to have their interests at heart, so he nodded his acceptance of the offer. Kneeling before his angel, he held her tightly, as he whispered into her ear: 

“Why don’t you go with uncle Tom, love? You should rest in a proper bed while we talk about our boring adult stuff here. Maybe you can grab a nice, tasty snack on the way, too?” 

Even though the little girl was apprehensive about leaving her father’s side when surrounded by strangers, she was reassured by his soothing tone. And she grew to like Tom, already. She nodded her tiny head and accepted the tall man’s offered hand and the duo left the cabin.

“Your daughter is so well-behaved, Mister Winters. I don’t have any kids of my own yet, but something tells me he or she will be an uncontrollable little monster at that age.” Spoke out Millie, looking at the departing child with clear fondness in her metallic grey eyes.

Bela giggled lightly at that. She knew a thing or two about uncontrollable monsters, with her own two troublemaking younger siblings. Ethan just smiled proudly and nodded, before motioning to Duke to continue. The huge man wasted no time in doing so.

“You should get to know the people we are up against, I think. Their organization is known by quite a few names around the globe. The Twelve Families. The Connections. The Cartel of Shadows. What we call them matters little, however. What matters is the vast amount of resources at their side. The fact that they have their finger in a great deal of pies all around the world. Corporations work with them. Governments close their eyes on their illegal activities. Private military companies are on their payroll. These are no mere thugs that have taken your mother and your wife.” The Duke looked at Bela and Ethan as he named the victims, respectively.

Bela looked shocked at the last word. She glanced at Ethan with questioning eyes. The blonde man was dreading this moment. How do you tell a woman that your wife went to work for people who abducted her mother? Voluntarily, at that. He cleared his throat and spoke, trying to sound neutral.

“My wife… Mia was pressured to join them. I don’t know the exact details, but I assume they threatened her that they would hurt me and Rose if she refused… She just left us in the middle of the night, leaving a note to forget about her and live our own lives.“

Bela stifled a gasp at that. For a second, Ethan was afraid that she would perceive him as an enemy now, an accomplice to the kidnapping of her own mother. That would’ve been a twisted turn of events, for sure.

What happened instead surprised the distraught man. Looking down at the floor, ashamed, he didn’t see the oldest Dimitrescu sibling approach him, and take him into a gentle embrace. Unlike the bone-crushing hug Daniela graced him with before, Bela held him so tenderly in her soft and warm embrace, Ethan felt his woes melt. As he leaned into her touch, without even thinking about it rationally, she whispered a reassurance into his ear.

“I am so sorry Ethan… We will get Mia back along with our mother, I promise you that. And we will make these people pay for what they did. Nobody should ever threaten one’s family… I cannot forgive that.”

So shocked at the comfort he so desperately needed, Ethan hugged her back tightly. They stood like that, in silence - just two people lost amidst the sea of deceit and betrayal, seeking an island of reassurance in each other.

And they found it. Ethan brown-grey eyes sparkled with newfound determination as he gazed into her own bottomless molten gold irises. The woman saw that spark and gave him a firm smile back.

Finally letting go of each other, the kindred spirits knew that they both would do whatever it takes to bring their loved ones back home, safely. And to make those who crossed them pay dearly. Regardless of their foe’s wealth and connections, the pair was dead set on succeeding.

The Duke cleared his throat, finally breaking the duo from their trance. Millie shuffled her feet, looking almost sheepish at being a witness to an intimate scene like the one that just took place.

Bela just smiled at them and spoke, a new flame of conviction in her voice.

“This is where we should head first, I think. A small logistics and refueling island that mother’s plane likely landed on. Here are the coordinates.” Bela gave the Duke a small scrap of paper at that. He was clearly pleased with it as he spoke, once again sounding jolly.

“Ah! I’ve suspected they had a facility like that somewhere around the Atlantic ocean, yet the precise coordinates eluded me. A great find, my lady. Where did you manage to obtain such information?”

It was the blonde woman’s turn to look uncomfortable. It seemed like she wasn’t proud about how she gained that knowledge.

“The details are...unimportant. We also heard a curious name: ‘Nightcrawler’. Do you know if we could locate that person?”

At that Duke clicked his own tongue, in displeasure, before responding.

“Ah, I know that miscreant well. He or she is responsible for many darker dealings the organization we oppose makes. Kidnapping, extortions, blackmail, murder even. A ‘fixer’ they call his kind. There are far more than one of them working for The Connections, yet the Nightcrawler is the most nefarious one, trusted with the most important tasks. I’ve been on their tail for a while now.” 

Ethan spoke at that, curious: “Do you know where they are then?”

The Duke just shook his head, sadly, before replying: “Unfortunately, all we know for now is a pseudonym, which is quite useless information by itself. I already have a trusted contact working on revealing more, but for now we will have to skip that lead.”

Bela let out a small sigh, likely unsurprised at this turn of events. Ethan felt like this wouldn’t be the last time they’ve heard that mysterious person’s name. The Duke continued.

“But this island is a promising lead, make no mistake! I’ll make sure we chart a course there immediately. This beautiful ship may look like a simple luxury yacht, but we have here the latest in ways of modern subterfuge! Anti-radar coating, scouting drones, cutting edge electronic warfare suit! I dare say, even our most formidable foes will never see us coming.”

Both Bela and Ethan stared wide-eyed at the man, who was gesturing wildly as he spoke. The Duke seemed particularly proud of his ship and they both could see why. What kind of connections would one need to obtain a vessel such as this, loaded to the brim with modern military equipment, no less? The rotund man was ever an enigma.

“Fortunately, it appears the island in question is relatively close to us. We would reach the optimal striking distance in mere ten hours at top speed. You two should get this time to get ready, I imagine you all would want to be at the forefront. We have a small armory at the lower deck, if you’re interested in acquiring a tool of trade or two, Mister Winters. Free of charge, just this time.”

The pair thanked their gratuitous host and took their leave at that.

Ethan decided to head to the armory first, and Bela, not interested in modern firearms, went towards the ship’s bridge - to learn more about their target as well as their own capabilities. Her bright mind would serve them better than her brute strength in the hours to come. Before they parted their ways, the blonde woman gave another, quick but warm embrace to the man. Ethan, appreciating the surprising but welcome gesture of comfort, returned it, gently. As they parted, Bela said nothing, but her serene expression conveyed her feelings all the same. Ethan felt heat coming to his face at the sudden, intimate contact with the beautiful blonde. Mumbling an awkward “see you…” the man went on his way, down to the armory, soft giggling at his sheepishness following him.

Contemplating the sudden turn of events, Ethan couldn’t help but experience a certain...elation. True, that was one fine mess he had found himself in, once again. But with Bela at his side, he felt like he could take on the world. Not to mention her crazy sisters and their enigmatic host. He couldn’t even explain the trust he put in them rationally. He just knew that no matter what storm may come to batter their shore, they would be ready for it. More than ready.

Walking through the halls on his way to the armory, Ethan was taken out of his reverie by what sounded like powerful swings of a bladed weapon. The noise came from the room to his immediate right. Peering into the large room that turned out to be an exercise space, Ethan could only gape in dark fascination at the sight.

It was Cassandra, hard at work at honing her deadly craft. She was now dressed in an exercising outfit - a shirt and pair of shorts, still showing plenty of her toned and powerful legs. But it was not her body that drew Ethan’s attention now. Instead, he was mesmerized by her violent, yet undeniably graceful movements. As if dueling an invisible enemy, she slashed her vicious sickle before dodging an imaginary attack. Every single movement she did was precise and economical, a refined parry flowing into a swift swipe. A stunning kick and an elegant leap backwards completed the performance. The speed and strength of her moves looked completely inhuman.

Ethan was suddenly glad he never actually had to face the brunette Dimitrescu in an all-out fight. His self-preservation instinct screamed at him to quickly leave and don’t look back, yet he just couldn’t help but to admire her incredible agility.

She is more than just some sadistic psycho… an artist of pain and misery seems a more fitting title for her...What a monster.

Sweat beaded on his forehead as he noticed her black lips curl into a wicked grin. She was facing the opposite direction the entire time and there were no mirrors around, yet she clearly noticed his unabashed staring. Suddenly Ethan was aware of a large fly, sitting right on his hand. As he glanced at it in horrible realization, the insect bit his appendage painfully, drawing blood, before returning to its mistress, flowing right into her skin. The brunette witch, standing still now, not turning to face him, spoke in a playful voice, yet with clear hints of malice in it.

“Enjoying the show, Ethan? Why don’t you join me for a round?”

The man could only stare at her in shock, as she swiftly turned 180 degrees on the heels of her feet, her vicious amber orbs locked on his own in an instant. She was grinning from ear to ear and her left eye was narrowed while her right one was wide open. Her fingers were twitching in anticipation. She truly looked like a deranged psychotic murderer at the moment and Ethan wanted to be anywhere but here. He stood still instead, silent, not wanting to break eye-contact and provoke her.

Seeing his paralysis, but apparently dead set on her ‘invitation’, the witch threw her sickle away carelessly, the weapon landing in a corner with a clung. She opened her arms wide, her grin morphing into a frown as she spoke.

“Come on, you coward. One bout, no weapons. Just you and me. Bela talked my fucking ear off about how brave you were in confronting Miranda for your little Rose. Yet you are afraid to face little old me? Are you planning on hiding behind Bela’s skirt from now on? What a fucking coward. I can’t understand what she sees in you. Craven maggot.”

By the end of her tirade, her tone switched to almost growling, with spittle flying from her mouth. Her words have sparkled a flame of defiance in Ethan, however. He clenched his fists in anger.

That bitch… She knows she is far stronger than me. I doubt she will actually be delusional enough to attack me right here if I refuse her. Yet if I just walk away now she will never respect me. Goddamnit, hope all this training with Chris will pay off… She can’t be as good in unarmed combat as she is with her sickle, right…?

“One bout with no weapons? You’re on.”

Hearing his defiant tone, her angry snarling mouth turned into a wicked grin once again. She assumed an unarmed combat stance that looked flawless to Ethan, who trained in that style hard, himself.

Fuck me...

Entering the sparring ring and assuming his own stance, he was barely prepared for a violent flurry of blows that followed. The witch was unbelievably fast and her strikes had a lot of power behind them, despite their swift delivery. The blonde man’s hands had seen worse though, and he blocked blow after blow.

Feeling her assault momentarily slacken, he delivered a couple of powerful punches himself, yet the brunette flowed around them easily, looking almost bored as she did so. Remembering his training, he feinted one blow just to land another on her solid frame. Letting out a small grunt of pain, she instantly responded with a bone-crushing kick with her right foot to his side. The blow was so powerful, Ethan felt a rib crack and the air blown out of his lungs. In shock and agony, he spat right in her face, coloring her black lips with his fresh red blood.

As he regained his bearing and jumped away from her, the witch didn’t hesitate to lick the blood off, giving off a slight moan of pleasure at the taste. She winked at him and spoke, almost sensually.

“Looks like the first blood is mine today, as well, Ethan. And it’s as delicious as I remember it to be...

God, how I hate the way this bitch keeps saying my name. 

Even though Ethan was more aware than ever of the brunette vampire’s overwhelming power, he would not yield so easily. Clenching his willpower in his fist, he made a taunting gesture at the witch opposing him.

She wasted no time in rushing him at that, throwing one powerful punch after another; ending the series of punishing blows that broke his guard wide open with an open-palmed strike of inhuman strength against his chest that sent him flying back a few steps, making him land right on his back.

As she approached his downed form, the man swung his feet in a wide arc, taking her by surprise and knocking her down herself.

The brunette brought herself back up momentarily, with catlike grace, yet Ethan did the same and bull-rushed her hard, leveraging his heavier bulk against Cassandra’s relatively lithe frame. Smashing her into the wall, with enough power to knock the air out of her lungs, he raises his fist, ready to pummel her no-longer smirking face. The first blow connected, drawing a thin line of dark blood from her lip.

Before the man could repeat the action, the witch dispersed into her swarm form, flowing around him before coalescing right behind him. Wasting no time, she grabbed his head by his blonde hair, just to savagely slam his face into the wall, twice, in quick succession. With the monstrous power behind Cassandra’s violent action, a normal human would have surely been knocked unconscious already. Ethan could only thank his own, distinctly unnatural physiology granting him the extra resilience needed to endure this punishment. It still took everything he had just to not black out.

Before she could slam his head once more, the man returned the favor with a brutal elbow slam against her stomach, making her lose the grip on his head and back off a step. Hastily turning around, aiming a powerful right hook at her face, the man was shocked when she caught his fist in her own left hand. Trying to strike her, once again, smirking mouth with his left hand, he was left aghast as she repeated her previous gesture with her right hand now.

The strength in her arms was truly immense. As she pushed him back into the wall, not letting go, the man felt his hands cry out in anguish at the vast pressure the brunette exerted against them. At this rate, the fragile bones in his wrists would not last long against this monstrous power. Looking into her wild, exhilarated expression, he instantly knew that she would have no qualms whatsoever in actually breaking his hands. Her insane grinning face was inches from his own now. He could yield and hope she would be sane enough to stop...or…

Collecting his resolve, Ethan did something the witch herself used against him, two years ago.

A vicious headbutt right into her nose, followed by a satisfying crunching sound, made her stumble back as she let his arms go, stars in her eyes. Before he could pummel her into the ground, she dispersed into her cursed swarm once more. The man could only growl in frustration at his intangible foe.

“That’s cheating, you fucking bitch!” 

As she coalesced a couple of steps away from him, her expression was one of joy, even though her now ruined face was marred by her own dark blood. Her eyes were open wide as she spoke, her shaky voice also showing her exhilaration.

“Nobody ever said anything about me not using both of my shapes… How are you still standing!?”

Before the fight resumed, Ethan took a moment to appreciate the state of the combatants. His whole body was hurting, his face was a bloody mess and he was breathing hard. His broken rib was begging for attention. He was pretty sure some organ was bleeding internally. Sweat was running down his whole frame. He wouldn’t last much longer.

The brunette witch, on the other hand, was barely panting, her eyes still glinting crazily. Even though her own face was a mess, Ethan knew she could go for more than a single bout of this. Not only was she stronger and faster than him, but also more enduring.

Still, he won’t give up so easily. Looking at her with determination burning in his eyes, the man could swear the bitch purred in delight at seeing his continued perseverance.

Fully recovered herself, the witch wasted no breath in resuming her relentless assault on the battered man - a barrage of punches and kicks that no normal human could withstand.

Trying to connect a blow in between her own vicious strikes, Ethan could only dismay as he found his movements too sluggish to hope to best her formidable defense now. Instead, on overextending his final strike he found himself sent flying as the brunette used his own momentum to throw him over her. Landing on his back hard, the man knew that he was done for. There was no strength left in his sore muscles and no fight in his spirit. The witch was just too damn powerful. 

As he lay on the floor, too exhausted to stand up, staring straight up at the ceiling, a pair of feet in black training shoes came up to his face.

Guess the crazy bitch wants to stomp on my face now… Well done, Ethan. Agreeing to fight a psycho vampire unarmed. Mia would be proud.

Preparing for the pain, the man is surprised when a strong and firm hand grasps his own instead, pulling him up to his feet.

Standing up, he finds himself staring right into Cassandra’s yellow irises, inches from his own brown-grey eyes. She is panting pretty noticeably now. The expression on her face is...unusual. Instead of her normal insane grin and wide eyes, he is treated to an almost serene visage. Her now almost pleasant-looking orbs gaze at his face in scrutiny, as if trying to find out something that she missed before. Ethan must be going crazy as he sees a measure of respect glint in her eyes as she speaks, surprisingly calmly and quietly, as if this was a special moment.

“No human has ever given me this much trouble before, not even close… I guess Bela was right. There is something special about you, Ethan.”

Ethan couldn’t tell what shocked him more. That the violent psycho helped him up instead of stomping on his face like he expected her to or that she finally pronounced his name in a normal way. Regardless, even if he was bloodied and bruised in defeat, he felt like he had won something here, today. Finding his wit back and trying to capitalize on the moment, the man speaks, amicably, while offering her a hand to shake.

“A good fight, Cassandra. I can now see why Bela has so much respect for your martial prowess.”

Apparently, that was exactly the right thing to say, since the brunette’s eyes lit up in joy, growing wide at the praise. She eyed his outstretched hand for a moment, before accepting it and giving him a firm shake, as she spoke, her tone unsure, for once.

“She does…? I mean, of course she does. I am the strongest sibling, after all.”

In truth, Bela never said anything like that, though before they got to the Duke’s cabin, she did mention that it was Cassandra who dealt with all the ‘riffraff’ that attacked the sisters yesterday. And it was not hard for Ethan to connect the dots: the brunette was the brawn of Team Dimitrescu and was obviously very proud of that fact. And if a half-truth will turn the most dreaded person onboard this ship into an acquaintance, that was an absolute win in Ethan’s book.

The brunette woman stood as if unsure herself about the current situation. She shuffled her feet for a few moments before clearing her throat and declaring loudly.

“Well, this was entertaining, but I do feel like I need a shower now. Don’t want Daniela all over me, licking your blood off, after all!”

At that, Cassandra left the exercise room, not forgetting to pick up her sickle as she went. For once, she gave him no psychotic grin or a thinly-veiled threat as she departed. Ethan just stood flabbergasted for a full minute. Did he just befriend a psycho vampire that wanted to drink his blood as she tortured him to death with a dirty knife?

“I need a fucking drink…”

Forgetting his earlier desire to visit the armory and ignoring his aching bones, sore muscles, the broken rib, the messed up face, and very likely a ruptured lung, the man went straight to the bar that was closest to him. He did take the time to clean the blood off his face with a towel on his way out, though. The last thing he wanted was to run into Daniela and have her licking his face like a dog. The man sighed as he realized that the mental image of that won’t be leaving him anytime soon.

Looking at the map of the ship, he noted that the bar was actually on the upper tier, far away from him. Determined to get his hands on some whiskey, he trudged his way up.

Several tiers up, as Ethan got closer to his destination, he could hear beautiful sounds of music being played. Entering the open-topped bar stocked to the brim with all kinds of alcoholic beverages, the blonde man wasn’t even surprised anymore as he saw the source of music.

Of course it was Daniela, playing the violin. She had her eyes closed, as her dainty fingers moved around the strings of the instrument deftly, clearly experienced from years of practice. Her face was locked in a serene expression, and Ethan couldn’t help but to admire the quality of her performance. Even if she did have all the time in the world to practice the instrument, locked in her castle, she was, undeniably, very talented with the violin.

Every crewmate around was standing still and silent, listening to her play as well, as if entranced. Nobody paid the battered blonde man any mind as he went to the counter and asked for some whiskey. Daniela’s nostrils twitched slightly, but to Ethan’s relief she kept playing with her eyes closed. The barman, not moving his gaze from the redhead musician, poured Ethan the requested liquid. Taking a deep gulp, the man released a sigh of relief. As the hard drink soothed his parched throat and mind, the beautiful music soothed his ears and soul, making the man feel at peace after the brutal confrontation he just lived through. 

Is it still Stockholm syndrome if I bond with my captors after escaping them?

Smirking at his own little joke the man fell down the counter unconscious, now that the gentle sound of music shooed the last of the adrenaline from his veins, running throughout his utterly exhausted and broken body. 

Notes:

Hope you enjoyed the chapter!

As you may see, I kinda made Dimitrescu daughters have certain 'roles'.

Bela is a leader or brains. She is good at inspiring others and have extremely well-developed problem solving skills. She can think fast, even in tough situations. Other sisters respect her and listen to what she has to say, most of the time.
Cassandra is a damage dealer or brawn. She is very good at any kind of combat, deadly at any range. Also a local torture technician, though usually a mere threat of her is enough to make anyone spill the beans.
Daniela is a support/utility, with a variety of random skills that reflect her rapidly shifting interests: She can drive a car (very poorly), she can play a violin (very nicely!) and she can use her natural charm to talk her way out of most situations. She is also the most stealthy sibling, who can sneak up on almost anyone. But in direct combat, she is the weakest of the three sisters.

If you have any thoughts, suggestions, or questions, feel free to write them!

Chapter 8: Dark prospects, Darker thoughts

Notes:

This chapter will more feels-oriented.
First part will be pretty clinical, but second part will be very dark and contain a reference to suicide, as well as implications of imminent and extremely unethical research practices.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Sebastian was not having a good day.

Earlier today, he received a report that one of their major research facilities on the outskirts of Seattle was raided. Property damage in millions, two dozen of slain PMC guards, all research terminals destroyed and Subject J-V, that was contained there - discovered missing after their forces had regained control of the site. 

The raid was executed flawlessly, with an electric substation taken out first and the backup generator sabotaged from within. Calls for reinforcement were jammed for critical minutes. Whoever did it left no trace or clues behind. This was done by real professionals. The brunette man had his suspicions on the culprits - a certain boulder-punching asshole came to his mind. All in all, it was a clusterfuck of massive proportions and heads will definitely roll. Sebastian could only breathe a sigh of relief as this was not his area of influence and therefore - not his problem. He did feel a bit bad about the North-American operational overseer, though. The man was famous for his wild parties, which Sebastian would privately admit as highly enjoyable.

Will be hard to host a party when you’re six feet under.

The moderately unpleasant news about the research facility raid was promptly forgotten as he received a vastly more unpleasant phone call. Listening to annoying mumbling and pathetic excuses, the man exploded in rage.

“What do you mean, he just vanished!? What the hell am I paying you for if you can’t even keep an eye on a single father and his three year old daughter? Jesus fucking Christ. Find him!”

Ending the call, the tall man made a mental note to address the unforgivable failure of this particular pair of underlings at a later date. Taking a large swig from his cognac bottle, he glanced over the Dimitrescu after-action report on his desk. Scoffing at yet another setback, he walked to his large window, taking a moment to appreciate the majestic view he had from his penthouse. A vast, modern city stretched as far as an eye could see, bursting with life and lights even during these nightly hours. The normally soothing sight did nothing for his frayed nerves now.

A company of our finest mercs. Yet the three bug-bitches slipped right through their fingers. Somehow catching two of our own employees in the process. How could this happen? 

Truthfully, their organization didn’t really require the daughters - the mother was more than sufficient for their purposes. Yet Sebastian ruffled his hair in unease at the loose ends. Especially since the loose ends apparently decided to start piling up on him...

Then again, perhaps I am overthinking this. What could a lone father with a kid and three stupid insectoid B.O.W.s possibly do, anyway? Still...

Taking out his expensive, gilded smartphone once again, the brunette man dialed his most valuable minion. As the call connected, he spoke into the cellphone haughtily, with a hint of mockery in his voice.

“Hello, Jimmy. Read your report on the Dimitrescu operation. How disappointing. You’re losing your touch, my friend.” 

The man on the other side replied calmly, his tone firm but not harsh.

“You got what you wanted, didn’t you?”

“True, yet you know full well what I think about loose ends like that. How are our friends in the Dire Wolves doing?”

“Angry. They expected to be paid in full, regardless of the outcome. They’ve lost some men. The commander's brother's unfortunate demise struck hard, in particular, I think.”

Sebastian snorted at that in indignation, before responding.

“It’s literally their goddamn job to die for us. They can’t be unhappy about that. And the fucking deal was: fifty percent for the big bitch, fifty for her three spawns. They got paid precisely as much as what was delivered. I want you to make sure they understand their place - I don’t need more defiance right now. Get them into shape and search for the bug-sluts immediately. I want the mercs ready and willing to pounce on them the moment you have their location. Captured dead or alive, makes no difference to me.”

“Alright.”

“Did our two recently deceased intermediaries have access to any sensitive information?”

“No.”

“Good. One more thing. Goddamn Ethan Winters is MIA. I am not taking any chances with that fucker. Not after everything the bastard went through. Get Styx on his ass. She has one mean track record.”

“Expensive, that one. You’re the one who wanted to leave Winters alone though, no?”

“Shut the fuck up, Jimmy. This was my one personal favor to our dear Mia. I was hoping the dumb bastard would be smart enough to keep his head down and take care of his kid, but clearly I was mistaken. He gets his bullet between the eyes now. Do what I tell you to, I don’t need to remind you what happens to you if I go down, I hope?”

“You don’t. I’ll get in touch with the assassin.”

“Excellent. Always a pleasure, Nightcrawler .”

“...”

Ending the call, feeling a bit less tense now, the man breathed a sigh of relief. Looking at the ornate chess board on a glass table near him, he felt reassured.

Several pawns were unaccounted for, yet both queens were right where he needed them to be. As soon as they could gather enough samples from the Dimitrescu matriarch, they could restart the E-001 development; and with Mia at the helm - the manufacturing would soon follow, as well. Everything else was irrelevant. Once they had the final product ready, the client’s support would be assured. And with the project a success - his own deserved place in the grand scheme of things would be secured.

***

Mia Winters looked with some apprehension at the humongous woman in a regal white dress in her solitary cell. Even behind the bullet-proof, one-way glass she did not feel particularly safe, being so close to that...thing. 

The guards assured her that there was absolutely no way for the prisoner to break free. The hardened metal alloy restraints that almost completely engulfed her every limb were rated to hold a Nemesis-type Tyrant indefinitely. 

To counter her potential mutations a slow but steady stream of fungal-growth suppressants were fed into the subject’s body via an IV tube in her arm.

Even if the monstrous woman somehow exceeded their expectations of her physical strength and broke the metal holding her, the electrical device affixed to her chest would paralyze her completely, designed to trigger automatically upon  any sudden or violent motions. 

However, if even that miraculously wouldn’t stop the giant woman, the sprinklers attached to the cell’s ceiling would, at a single press of a button in the command room, spray a diluted solution of E-Neurotoxin that would leave the creature at death’s door.

As if all this wasn’t enough, pairs of guards on rotation, armed with assault rifles were stationed by the cell’s door, 24/7. They were equipped with the RAMROD rounds, created specifically to destabilize and weaken fungal-based bioweapons. 

Whoever designed this confinement spared no expense in ensuring that the captive stayed where she was supposed to. It would take a miracle for the mutated woman to escape this place alive...more than one, in fact.

Yet the subject’s escape was not the biggest concern Mia had. Ethan didn’t speak much about his time in the isolated village, understandably still traumatized by the horrific events he had witnessed there. He did, however, mention a giant noblewoman and her three daughters who held him captive for a while. Ultimately, one daughter decided to aid him instead and Ethan claimed that he owed her his freedom.

Alcina Dimitrescu - was the name of the subject in the cell. A Romanian name. It would be truly a cosmic coincidence if this was some other giant, Romanian, mold-based noblewoman right here now, at her own mercy. If Ethan was to be believed, Alcina’s daughter was the one who had allowed him to triumph over Miranda and her lords. And now, Mia will return the favor by harvesting her husband's savior’s mother for their own bioweapon development. An uncomfortable turn of events, yet she had little choice in the matter. She was, ultimately, as much a prisoner here as the giant woman herself. Mia’s cell was just a bit bigger, is all. 

Even though the very much awake and aware Lady Dimitrescu couldn’t see through the black one-way glass from her own end, she still glared at it balefully, her vicious yellow eyes promising unholy retribution for this indignity. Mia couldn’t help but gulp as she locked her own gaze with the powerful creature. Suddenly, all the excessive barriers between her and the nine-foot plus monstrosity felt more than welcome. They will be taking much from the captive in the coming days. Recreating E-001 from scratch will not be easy...or painless. 

Even more unfortunately, the captive in the cell will not be the only victim of this process. Mia gritted her teeth at the memory of a small group of young, dirty kids - tiny boys and girls she saw earlier today. Orphans, stolen or bought from their uncaring caretakers. Nobody will miss them. Ripe for the experiments she will start tomorrow. Few of them were expected to survive the implantation stage. Those who don’t will be the lucky ones.

On which side of this glass is the true monster, I wonder?

She was taken out of her momentarily morbid reverie by a male ‘colleague’ at her side clearing his throat, in an attempt to gain her attention. Not looking at the man, she could barely contain her distaste of him. Much like Sebastian, he was quite handsome in appearance, yet utterly vile and rotten inside. Nicolai Bogdanov, a brilliant but completely amoral Russian scientist disillusioned by his own government’s stagnation and corruption in the bioweapon research and development sector. A perfect hire for The Connections. He spoke, in his heavily-accented English.

“Permission to begin the harvesting, chief ?” 

He didn’t even bother to hide excitement in his voice at the idea of violating a feeling, thinking creature’s flesh. Neither did he bother to hide his resentment of the fact that he served under Mia, a woman. Chief scientific officer Mia Winters - her full title now. Ten years ago she dreamed about it. Now she wanted to cut her own wrists because of it. Naturally, Sebastian informed her what the consequences of that particular action would be.

What a joke.

Still not turning to face the loathsome man, she spoke a single word, in a completely neutral and professional tone, not betraying the turmoil inside of her at this very moment.

“Granted.”

The guttural screams of anguish that followed the start of the procedure echoed across the underground facility, their intensity making even the hand-picked staff that toiled there, not selected for their charitable and kind natures, shudder.

***

The first thing Ethan did as he regained consciousness was to grunt in pain. Everything hurt. Recalling the events that led to his present condition, he cursed himself. He really should’ve gone straight to the nearest doctor, instead of that bar. Sometimes adrenaline is a curse more than a blessing, when it comes to masking pain. He thought about the reason for all his injuries in the first place, next.

Perhaps agreeing to a knuckle-fight with a blood-crazed and super-strong vampire who can turn into a swarm of insects at will was a mistake, after all…

“He is awake.”

The unmistakable voice of Bela made him open one eye, quietly moaning in pain as he did so. She sounded remarkably less gentle than usual, harsh even. Slowly surveying his immediate surroundings, Ethan found himself in a bed, seemingly in a medical ward of the ship. Bela was sitting in a chair next to his bed, her narrowed amber orbs staring at him, as if in judgement. She looked pissed off. Rose was perched on her lap, the blonde woman’s right arm held over her small frame, almost protectively. The tiny girl met his gaze and mumbled out, barely audibly: “You’re okay, daddy…” Bela gently ruffled her hair at that, with the girl not protesting the gesture. Ethan just gave her a pained smile and a nod. He felt really bad for worrying his little angel like that… Thank God Bela was nice enough to comfort the girl during his blackout.

Daniela was snoozing on a sofa nearby, but woke up quickly at her sister’s voice and rushed to his side, stopping to stand over Ethan. Her eyes were glinting with worry. An older woman in a doctor’s dress came from another room to join the redhead’s side. She had long, grey hair framing her wrinkled but kind face. Bela was quick to point to her source of frustration next.

“How could you possibly think that accepting a fight with Cassandra was a good idea, Ethan?”

The blonde woman furrowed her brows. Even though Ethan could still see some of her kind, caring nature in her sharp eyes, she spoke harshly, as if chiding a small child.

“She could’ve killed you, Ethan! She would’ve killed you… if not for your ... condition . And after that ill-advised encounter with my sister you went to a bar first thing!? You were walking around with an internal bleeding, for God’s sake! Daniela had to carry you here after you collapsed!”

Ethan just sheepishly ran his hand through his messy blonde hair at that. Bela was actually quite scary, when angry. Her normally calm and pleasant features took on an almost fearsome quality. The doctor lady spoke next, astonishment in her accented voice.

“I’ve seen many things working with the Duke… But Mister Winters here is a special case. Your own broken rib punctured your lung. You were bleeding heavily from the rupture. Yet your internal tissues reabsorbed the blood before partially reintroducing it back into the bloodstream. Incredible…And then, Viridis Plantae had a truly magical effect on your wounds. I am at a loss for words.”

Bela just scoffed at all that, before speaking, in a guttural voice she only used when truly angry: “You still needed a surgery! You had a severe concussion on top of that! How could you be so reckless, Ethan? Who would’ve taken care of Rosie here, if you died!? Who would rescue Mia?”

The blonde man was ashamed of himself. Her words struck true. His own daughter was also looking at him crossly, hurt plain in her tiny eyes. Picking a fight with the brunette Dimitrescu was not his wisest move. Walking around wounded after was even sillier. Ethan still felt like he needed to defend his own actions.

“Look, you’re right that it was stupid and reckless of me… But if we are to work together, how could I just walk away from her challenge? She would forever think of me as just some weakling, unworthy of being in your presence.”

Ethan felt the heat come to his face at the last part he spoke out, without thinking. Bela had a similar reaction, her eyes opening wide, as if in wonder. After a few beats of loaded silence, her next words were laced with disbelief.

“Why would you even care about what she thinks? She tortured you! I… You’re a glutton for punishment, aren’t you, Ethan?”

She spoke the last part slowly, while running her left hand through his messy hair gently. After a few moments of silent stroking, her eyes narrowed slightly and she asked, softly: “Perhaps it’s time to let us in on your little secret?”

Ethan, relaxed at the soothing gesture and tone, felt like it was time to come clean about his condition.

“I am sorry for not telling you before...it never really came up. You’re right… I have a condition . Long story short: five years ago I got into a mess in Louisiana, in the good ol’ U.S. of A.” 

Her soft hand still caressing his hair gently, Bela looked at him intensely. The man continued.

“There was a bioweapon, based on Miranda’s mold, on the loose there. I got infected by it. Most people who got infected by that shit turned into feral monstrosities. I got...lucky, I guess. The mold fused perfectly with my own physiology. It gave me some extra toughness and a degree of regeneration. That green herb stuff really worked miracles on me after that point. No real side effects, as far as I know. I’ve learned about all this for a fact only after Romania, myself. Though of course I suspected something was wrong with me for a long time now.”

Bela kept silent at that, deep in thought. Daniela knelt before his bed, getting on his eye-level and spoke, astonished.

“You’re like... us then, Mister Winters!”

Ethan felt grateful to the redheaded woman at his side. She stared at him with wonder and glee in her expression. Her eyes were suddenly filled with so much affection and kindness, the man couldn’t help but want to say something nice to her.

“Thank you for carrying my deadweight all the way here, Daniela, I appreciate it, a lot. Sorry for ruining your performance like that...it was really beautiful, by the way.” Her eyes lit up even more at the compliment. “Also, do you mind just calling me Ethan, from now on? Mister Winters makes me feel old…”

Daniela let out a tiny squeal of delight at that, before nodding her head vigorously. She was just so damn cute at that moment. Ethan had a hard time connecting this same beautiful and caring girl with a violent vampiric monster who murdered and ate people for a living. She spoke rapidly next, her voice betraying her excitement.

“Did you really like my performance? I know just the song for you! You will love it! Be right back!” Before the man could respond, she shot to her feet and quickly rushed out, not saying another word or sparing anyone a glance. Seeing the redhead's frantic movements made Rose finally vacate Bela’s lap and stand at her side, her own expression curious now. The blonde woman smiled at the child as she gently patted her head. Ethan wanted to melt at the heartwarming sight.

She is so kind to Rosie...

Now, somewhat rested and relatively good to go, no doubt once again thanks to his molded body, Ethan started to stand up slowly. Suddenly feeling unbalanced and lightheaded at the motion, the man almost fell right back but was steadied by Bela’s own firm hands quickly taking hold of his arm in support. The doctor lady just gaped at him in astonishment, clearly not expecting such a swift recovery.

“How long was I out, anyway?”

The blonde woman, still holding his arm, chided him softly as she responded to his inquiry.

“Seven hours, Ethan. We will soon be at our destination. But I really have to insist that you will be more careful in choosing which fights to pick, from now on. You may be tougher than a normal human, but you’re not invincible. If not for yourself, do it for Rosie here, or for Mia, still waiting for you. Or...” She didn’t voice the rest of the thought. 

Or for me…

After a few beats, with Ethan likely catching on what she wanted to say, he spoke cheerfully, clear mirth in his soft eyes as looked into her own orbs.

“Sure thing, Bells. I’ll be more careful from now on. Just because you asked me so nicely.”

The woman felt heat creep to her own cheeks from her own personal thought and his casual and almost...flirty address of her. Realizing she still held his arm, Bela let go.

This was awkward. In all her unnaturally long life, she never had any real experience with intimate relationships beyond her family and a hunter/prey & master/servant routine they had at their castle. Even in the last two years, she still never felt as easy as Daniela did around the humans and tried to avoid interacting with them directly. These casual, pleasant interactions they had now were a novelty. A very welcome novelty.

Her next, less pleasant and intrusive thoughts ruined her briefly good mood once again.

So much time lost, locked in our castle…So many atrocious deeds committed. We...deserve everything bad that happened to us, don’t we?

Ethan himself could barely suppress a sigh of disappointment as her soft, warm hands left his arm. At realization of that thought, he noted, with some concern: he was growing to enjoy the serene blonde’s company at an alarming speed. With every little interaction they had, he felt like her mere presence was becoming more and more of a comfort that he missed so sorely, for so long now. Something that he used to feel in Mia’s presence before all this mess. He found himself starting to crave Bela’s gentle touch now.

Shrugging the unwelcome thoughts off, he took Rose’s tiny hand in his own and nodded at the doctor lady, before heading for the exit, his previous dizziness now almost completely gone. The man’s whole body still ached, but he was once again fully in control of it. Ethan could only hope the room provided by the Duke would have some replacement clothing, as he wasn’t too keen on storming some island in a hospital gown he had on him now.

“Thanks for patching me up, doc. I’ll try not to make it a habit.”

The older woman just nodded back, still in shock at how her bedridden patient got to his feet like he just woke from a pleasant nap and not from a blackout that was induced by being beaten within an inch of his life. 

Leaving the medical ward, the trio was quickly intercepted by the grinning redhead, now armed with her violin. She was swift to join them, rambling in her typical manner meanwhile.

“I ran into Cass just now. I think she actually looked a little relieved as I told her you were fine, Ethan! I can’t believe she is going soft now! Never thought I’d see the day! Thank you so much for giving me some ammunition against her! Oh, I can already picture her face as I call her out on it! Tough as nails Cassandra going soft! Can you believe it, Bela?”

Bela giggled softly at her beloved sister’s antics. She still didn’t particularly fancy the idea of taunting Cassandra about ‘going soft’. 

“Perhaps that would not be so wise, not with Ethan still in her immediate proximity for her to try to prove you wrong, Dani?”

Daniela pouted but yielded the point. She then looked down at Rose with undisguised adoration in her yellow eyes. The tiny girl, as if feeling her stare, turned to look back at her, with sadness in her own eyes. Even if the girl kept quiet most of the time, she was still missing her mother badly. As if translating that thought with eye-contact, Daniela’s own mirthful mood quickly shifted. The company proceeded in an uncomfortable, tense silence.

Noticing her younger sister's sudden discomfort, Bela moved closer to her side and asked her, gently. 

“Is something wrong, Dani?”

The redhead didn’t move her gaze from the floor as she spoke, her voice sounding unsteady, as if she was close to tears.

“What if when we find mother, too many men would be guarding her for us to take on? What if we never find mother in the first place? Will these horrible people just run their vile experiments on her forever then?”

Bela stopped at that, quickly placing her hand on the youngest Dimitrescu's shoulder. Moving around to be face-to-face to her, she put her second hand on Daniela’s other shoulder, as well. Bela spoke gently, but firmly then.

“Look at me, Daniela.” The redhead did so, though slowly. “Do you trust me?” - Daniela just nodded, though with not as much vigor as she did before. “No matter what happens, I am certain of one thing. We will save our mother. She always taught us to never leave our own behind. I fully intend to follow that lesson to the letter. We will find mother, this I promise you. And when we do, regardless of how many men will stand in our way, we will cut them all down just the same.”

Daniela hugged Bela tightly at that, muttering something in the blonde’s ear. Bela eagerly returned the gesture. The two sisters stood like that for a while.

Ethan observed the intimate scene between the two sisters in respectable silence. He couldn’t help but shudder as the wave of conviction from Bela’s words struck him. The man knew she meant every single syllable she spoke. The kind and gentle soul that normally eschewed violence in front of him would not hesitate even for a second to brutally murder anyone who would be foolish enough to get in her way of saving her mother.

Ethan was intimately familiar with that feeling himself. If things turned out differently two years ago, he knew he would not have hesitated to wipe out Bela’s own family, provided he ever got free himself and if they got in his way to save Rose.

The man couldn’t help but let out a deep sigh of relief at the fact that this was not the case, in the end. The notion of raising a weapon at the sisters that were sharing a loving embrace before him was inconceivable to Ethan now. Both girls were rapidly worming their own way into his heart, the man realized with a shock. Even Cassandra could eventually become a trusted comrade. He was even more surprised at his next thought, or more precisely - the answer to it.

If it comes down to it, will I be able to kill a person in defense of these girls? Yes. I will be. The people we are up against… they have no concepts of morality or ethics in their actions. They do not think twice about tearing families apart...Bela taught me that even monsters can have humanity. Makes sense that the opposite holds true as well - the humans can be the monsters. I can’t hold back against these people. Not when they have Mia. Not when these girls are counting on me to help them save their mother.

Notes:

Hope you enjoyed glimpses into the villains (both willing and unwilling) as well as more Ethan/Dimitrescu bonding :)

Viridis Plantae is just something I'll decided to be an official name for green herb and its derivatives in this AU. It's a pretty universal medicine in this world, available in liquid, gel or salve form, but for most people it only provides moderate healing benefits, nothing too magical. But for Ethan, I'll keep his crazy healing ability from the game when treated with it. He still needed a minor surgery because he was suffering from internal damage, though it was fixed quickly with an incision and an application of liquid green herb, at Duke's own advice.

Chapter 9: The First Move

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Ethan, walking by himself now that the Dimitrescu girls decided to grab a snack and taking Rosie with them, approached the armory. The man was pleasantly surprised when Bela mentioned how Tom managed to procure some crayons for Rose and was quite happy to volunteer to watch over her while they did their grim business. If the tall man minded being relegated to a babysitter, he hid it well. While the father wasn’t too keen on leaving his child behind, Tom did absolutely nothing to warrant suspicion of any kind so far and it sure beat the idea of taking his daughter to the massacre that would surely take place on the island.

Finally inside the ship’s armory, Ethan was treated to rows of guns of all kinds, just waiting for him. The armory was small, but well-stocked. The man’s gaze lingered on several instruments of death-dealing before stopping at a particularly large, closed weapon case that was placed apart from the rest. Approaching the black case slowly, the blonde was stopped from touching it by a strong hand on his shoulder. The armory master, a large and gruff-looking man spoke firmly, in a deep voice.

“I am sorry, but that’s not for you, Mister Winters. You’re authorized for any other pieces in this armory, however.”

Intrigued, but not belligerent, Ethan just nodded and, after some deliberation, settled on the pieces he was most familiar with, instead.

Putting a tactical harness first the man picked up a Heckler & Koch VP9, with a large, 20-round magazine. The comfortable grip felt familiar in Ethan’s hand. A Kel-Tec KSG, a pump-action shotgun, capable of holding up to 15 12-gauge shells. A solid weapon, overall. Finally, what seemed to be an M1851 Wolfsbane magnum found its way into the blonde’s holster. This large-caliber hand cannon took down even the nastiest and meanest mutants back in Romania. It’s bulky form gave the man a degree of reassurance. Helping himself to ammunition for his chosen firearms, Ethan caught the armory master’s approving glance at his choice of weaponry.

Not forgetting about protection either, not after that talk with Bela, Ethan put on a solid kevlar vest, with some lightweight ceramic plates in front and back offering an additional degree of protection to his vitals. The overall weight of the vest was still quite hefty, but it restricted his movement little, if at all. All these hours spent in the gym were paying off, it seemed.

Grabbing a trio of green herb-based first aid sprays next, Ethan hoped they would work on him just as well as their liquid cousins did. Placing the medicine into his belt pouch, the man was locked and loaded. Giving a silent nod to the gruff man, he started to walk towards the armory’s exit, not noticing a couple of dark flies perched around the doorway.

Turning a corner into a hallway that would lead him to the upper decks, Ethan suddenly came face to face with a grinning Cassandra, instead.

“Rah!”

Startled, the man stumbled back in shock, her wicked giggling following him. Leaning into the wall, Ethan glared back at the playful brunette vampire. Still chuckling, her amusement was plain on her features.

The blonde was then further surprised at the attire she had on. A far cry from her previous outfits that left little to imagination, the middle sibling was now sporting a desert-brown safari get-up. Below her face, only pale skin he could see were short patches between her black leather gloves and the medium-length sleeves of her outfit. On her feet she had a pair of heavy-duty black combat boots. A dark leather belt with multiple pouches decorated her waist. Aviator sunglasses that hid her yellow eyes finished her get-up.

If she aimed for a badass hunter look, Ethan had to admit it was working. He also noted, with some satisfaction, that her nose was still angry red where he had broken it before.

What he saw next made the man almost gasp in shock. A barrel of a long, dark grey rifle was peeking from behind her back.

As if this crazy vampire witch was not dangerous enough without modern firearms…

“You’re using a fucking rifle now!?”

Cassandra scowled at him, seemingly not happy at his remark. She brought the rifle from her back, gliding a single, gloved hand over it slowly, almost sensually. She responded harshly, making the man lean back into the wall - he sure wasn’t looking for a rematch with her any time soon, if ever. 

“You watch your filthy man-tongue! That’s my baby you’re insulting here!”

Running a hand through his blonde mane, the man was quick to apologize, not wanting to provoke the dangerous and unstable woman.

“Sorry, meant no offense to you or your...baby. It’s just that I took you for someone who prefers to do that stuff up close and personal.”

The witch grinned at him at that, her previous anger quickly evaporating. The sight of her white, sharp teeth made a spike of phantom pain run through his three-fingered left hand. He still remembered vividly these very same teeth taking a chunk of his flesh. Suppressing a shudder at the horrible memory, the man listened to Cassandra’s response, her voice sounding surprisingly calm and casual now, as if she talked about weather and not murdering people in the most terrifying ways.

“Don’t get me wrong, I still love to hear and feel my prey squirm. Nothing quite beats the spray of warm, fresh, arterial blood in your face on a chilly day.” She licked her black lips at that. Ethan couldn’t suppress a shiver now. “Still… stalking the quarry through the scope of my baby is a whole new different experience. The knowledge that they are a hundred meters away from you, utterly unaware of you, just minding their own business, yet completely at your mercy. And then. Click. Bang. Dead. Beautiful .”

Ethan offhandedly noted that the brunette in front of him loved to emphasize certain words far more than any other person he had ever met. He wondered if that was a common psychotic quirk or just Cassandra’s own. She had a dreamy look on her face now, likely recalling some of her previous victims and the atrocities she had committed upon them. Completely unnerved at her casual speech about her preferred ways of inflicting wanton cruelty and murder, Ethan decided to take his leave.

“Well...I am glad you’re so passionate about your craft...I guess. Meet you on the bridge.” 

The woman, broken out of her momentary trance, just curtly nodded and headed into the armory herself, likely in need of extra ammunition for her beloved rifle. Ethan wasted no time in getting to the bridge where the rest of the team waited already. 

Entering the ship’s command center, Ethan noticed that the place was a hive of activity. Crewmates run from one station to another. Duke was in the captain’s seat, smoking a cigar and observing the rest, giving an occasional approving chuckle. Bela and Millie watched some monitors in interest. Daniela sat by herself on the sofa next to a wall, reading some book with a sleazy image on its cover in silent fascination, her mouth making a cute ‘O’ shape and her yellow eyes open wide. 

Both Dimitrescu sisters switched their respective summer dresses for a much more utilitarian outfit. Long black boots, nylon pants in an urban camouflage style, completed with simple grey shirts with short sleeves. Daniela had a bright yellow smiley face pin on the right side of her shirt. Ethan smirked at seeing that accessory in amusement. He assumed she didn’t like bleak colors too much, especially considering her previous colorful outfit. 

How did she last all these years in her fully black robed dress before? Or maybe the girls wore them just for special occasions? I should ask that later.

Letting the redhead read her sleazy novel in peace, Ethan approached Bela and Millie. They were watching what he assumed was the drone feed. It showed a clear bird-view of the island.

“A dozen guards then? Maybe two, if you count the ones in the buildings? Seems a bit light for a facility this large…”

Millie spoke in a curious voice, Bela nodding her blonde head in agreement at that, her yellow eyes narrowed in thought. 

Seeing him approach, Bela’s sharp eyes quickly took in his own form. Just like the Dimitrescu siblings, Ethan was now dressed for action. With his combat boots, military jungle-camo pants, an armored vest and an unshaven face one could mistake him for a mercenary himself. His kind gray eyes that lacked greed or lust for violence that were typical for that profession betrayed his true nature to Bela, though.

She smiled warmly at the man, who quickly returned the gesture. He noticed she had her blonde hair in a long ponytail now. She actually looked like some kind of cute military junior officer. Despite wanting to mention her unusual but admittedly eye-catching new look, Ethan decided to skip the smalltalk and get right to the business at hand.

“Found anything interesting?

The blonde’s lips twitched into a tiny, barely-perceptible frown at that conversation starter. Perhaps she was expecting a compliment? Regardless, if the woman was disappointed, her perfectly neutral tone didn’t show it.

“No sign of any aircraft there, at the moment. There is a small supply ship docked at the shore, though. What worries me is that the island doesn’t appear to have much in the way of security.” She pointed at several points of interest on the drone feed with her finger, as she continued: “Two watchtowers, in total, likely containing no more than one or two guards each. We counted four patrolling guards. Likely at least some are inside the warehouses here, perhaps even a few inside the hangars, here. Maybe one or two inside that small administrative building, here. Surely several more are resting inside the barracks, here. No heavy weaponry or combat vehicles of any kind seen from this angle.” Bela hummed with some annoyance. Ethan wasn’t much of a facility defense organizer, and he suspected she wasn’t, either. He still asked the obvious question.

“You find it suspicious then, I take it?” 

Millie answered that.

“By all accounts, this seems to be an important logistics base for The Connections. Even if they counted on subterfuge as a primary line of defense for this facility, this severe lack of defenses just doesn’t make sense. These guards would struggle to fend off a random pirate raid, much less a dedicated assault by rivals, which they have .”

Bela drummed her slender fingers against the monitor as she spoke next, sounding frustrated.

“I don’t like this. Daniela said that they have sent twenty elite mercenaries to subdue mother alone, with twenty more hiding in the bushes as back up. And now they have barely a dozen guards, defending an important and large facility like this. The warehouses alone likely contain a great deal of valuable property.”

Ethan scratched his own stubbly chin at that. He really needed to shave at this point. Planning assaults wasn’t his strong suit. Before he could say anything, they all were distracted by the sight of Cassandra coming to join them, swaggering her way into the command centre as if she owned the place and smirking as the crew scuttled out her way. Clearly, she already had a reputation among the men and women serving aboard. Daniela, with clear disappointment, put her book aside and joined them, as well.

“So, what’s the plan then, Bells?”

The woman actually flushed slightly at that nickname. Daniela giggled and Cassandra gave him a small frown. Bela cleared her throat and spoke, sounding subdued at first but quickly regaining her normal calm tone, which then further shifted into an authoritative one.

“Our goal is to find where the mother’s plane has gone. Someone down there must have that information. You, Cassandra, Daniela and a couple of Duke’s armsmen will get to the island by a motorboat, from this angle - they won’t see you coming, a lot of vegetation and hills on this part. You cross the terrain by foot and get to the facility. Cassandra should be more than enough to deal with these guards, you and Daniela should focus on locating any actual employees or documents. Duke’s men can secure the non-combatants.”

Jeez, put a military cap on her head and you’d think she is a force commander now.

“You’re not coming?” Ethan wasn’t expecting her to want to sit this one out. The woman gave a sigh of worry as she responded.

“I’d like to stay here and keep an eye on you all, myself. Our gracious host has provided us full access to his ship, and there are plenty of tools around here that can be used in case an emergency of some kind occurs. I will be close enough to assist, if the need arises.”

Millie eyed her in suspicion, at that. 

“You don’t trust the Duke to handle this part?”

Bela was clearly uncomfortable at that accusation. She shuffled her foot for a second and responded, quietly.

“It’s not that I don’t trust him, but there is no reason for me to go there myself as is. Cassandra is more than capable of handling the guards and interrogation, if that would be required.” The brunette witch smirked at that, in obvious pride at being singled out like that. Bela continued: “I’ll be able to respond to any developing situation better from here. Not to mention: it’s just poor manners to make your host do all the work for you.”

Millie seemed unconvinced, but unwilling to argue further. She just nodded. Ethan personally found that explanation to make sense. Cassandra alone was an overkill against a dozen unprepared guards. That woman was a force of nature, about to be unleashed upon unsuspecting mortals. The blonde man pitied them, even if they had it coming. Moreover, rationality aside, Bela had a good intuition and Ethan trusted her implicitly at this point, as did her two younger sisters. Seeing everyone reach an accord on that particular issue, the blonde woman continued.

“Once we get some solid information, we will blow that place sky-high. There is a huge cistern of fuel near the hangars. Ethan, if you’ll be so kind?” She looked at the man in question, even as Millie offered him a delayed sticky explosive package.

That was a shocker to Ethan. He knew she would not hesitate to resort to violence to get back her mother, but this was more than that. This was cold-blooded revenge. A good number of non-combatants worked in that facility, most of them were likely just in it for the money. Did they all really have to die? This felt wrong to the man… Thankfully, it seemed like Daniela also felt the same way. She spoke in a timid voice, clearly unused at questioning Bela’s authority in such decisions.

“But what about all the workers there? They didn’t do us any harm…”

Bela pinched the bridge of her nose as she answered, with some annoyance in her voice.

“They picked their side, Dani. I aim to make a statement here, today.” The redhead wanted to protest that, but Bela wasn’t finished, to everyone’s but Cassandra’s relief. “However… that doesn’t mean everyone there has to die. If you feel so inclined, you may warn them about our plans, once we have what we need. They can escape on their own ship then.” 

Cassandra scoffed in mild frustration, while the rest breathed a collective sigh of relief. For a second there, Ethan’s blood chilled in his veins as he felt like he had misjudged Bela’s character horribly, after all. The idea of cold-blooded mass-murder of defenseless people who barely had anything to do with their plight didn’t sit too well with the blonde man. He, calmed by the suggestion, accepted the bomb still held out to him by Millie. Their blonde freshly-minted commander took a moment to look at everyone with narrowed yellow eyes, lingering her gaze on each member of the team for a few moments, as if measuring their conviction. Apparently satisfied with what she saw, she hummed and clapped her hands once.

“If there are no further questions or concerns… let’s do this!”

Cassandra walked out first, with spring in her step, Ethan and Daniela taking more measured steps. Before they could get far, Bela put a firm hand on both of their shoulders, stopping the duo in their tracks. Turning to face her, once again, the pair found the blonde’s uncharacteristically fierce visage gazing at them. She spoke with clear determination in her voice.

“Listen, I know you two are not that comfortable with all this and neither am I, truth to be told. But you have to understand that it's not gonna be as simple as taking mother and Mia back from them. We have to make sure they won’t just come after us again in a month or two. And how to best achieve that result against an organization such as theirs? We make them see that they lose more than they gain for fucking with us. I will destroy everything in my path to drive that point home. I hope I can trust you both to go all the way with me?”

Daniela nodded with newfound resolve, her eyes staring at her elder sister with respect and adoration.

“I am always all the way with you, sister… you know it. I am sorry for questioning you.”

Bela grinned and kissed redhead’s forehead with sisterly love.

“It’s good that you question, Daniela! A healthy mind should never obey blindly.” The blonde sister watched her younger sibling with clear fondness for a few moments, before turning her gaze to the man at her side. She looked at him with interest in her piercing eyes. Ethan felt some sweat starting to bead on his forehead from the intensity of this moment.

“Ethan. Are you with me? All the way?”

The man in the spotlight locked his brown-gray eyes with her own molten gold orbs. This was a million-dollar question. Was he prepared to fully put his trust into this woman? To completely commit to the course she would chart? Could he count on her to see their grim task done without losing themselves in the process? His every previous interaction with the blonde vampire flashed before his eyes. Her violent attack on him as he invaded their castle, seemingly so long ago. Her unexpected kindness towards him after. Her unyielding determination to keep her family safe. The gentle and almost loving moments they already had on this very ship. Her pale hand, curled over his Rosie protectively. Her promise to get Mia back, even if she worked against them now.

“You gave me no reason to question your judgement before, Bells. I am with you, all the way. Count on it.”

The woman’s eyes widened in joy at that, just for a second, before returning to their normal, tranquil shape. Quickly leaning in, Bela pecked him on his cheek, before returning back to her station, not giving them another word or a glance. The familiar contact of her soft, warm lips on his skin, as brief as it was, made the man blush slightly. He cursed himself as he felt his body betraying him, craving for more . Shaking the thought from his head, the man and the redhead at his side walked to their waiting boat. Now was the time for violence, not affection.

***

Just like they planned, the small assault team consisting of Ethan, two younger Dimitrescu siblings and a trio of Duke’s men, reached an elevation overlooking the airbase unmolested. They did come across a couple of tripwire-like motion sensors here and there, scattered across the vegetation, but the Duke’s sergeant was an experienced tracker and spotted them with a practiced eye. The darkness of the night covered their approach. Everyone had a headset equipped, making sure they could communicate with one another, as needed.

Cassandra hummed in satisfaction as she observed the base through the scope of her rifle. Ethan could only stare at her wicked, grinning black lips in morbid fascination. Naturally, her leather-clad fingers were twitching in anticipation of the carnage to come.

Poor bastards… They sure didn’t know they signed up for Cassandra when they accepted this contract.

As if reading his thoughts, the brunette spoke, her tone shaky and unsteady.

“These humans will regret working for our enemies today, I think.”

The humans on their own team traded a couple of nervous glances among themselves. Cassandra put her tinted eyewear back on.

“Enough talk! I can’t hold back any longer!”

And just like that, the brunette was on the move, walking towards the first watch-tower briskly, staying off the floodlight paths and trusting the pitch-black darkness to hide her from sight.

Ethan watched in deathly curiosity as she swarmed up the tower, all of her clothes and items carried along by her flies. 

What kind of insane coordination would it take to do something like that? These girls are amazing… if a bit crazy and murderous…

First blood of the night went to Cassandra, as screams of the dying and violent slashes of a bladed weapon biting deep into flesh, as well as sinister giggling could be heard from the tower. Not a shot was fired as two men up there were butchered in mere moments. They had no chance to defend themselves as their only warning came from a sudden, loud buzzing before a sickle spilled one’s guts out and a knife sliced another’s jugular. Regardless, enough sounds had pierced the veil of night to alert the rest of the facility. Ethan and the rest exploded in motion - everyone had their own objectives to achieve tonight.

Cassandra, done with her first victims, licked the red blood off her lips as she grinned at the still twitching bodies of the men at her feet. Her face was already a bloodied mess. She couldn’t resist taking a quick bite.

Ice-cold blood ain’t all bad, honestly...but how can anything beat this beautiful, warm, red, fresh man-blood, straight from the source? Delicious.

Giving a sinister chuckle, the woman returned her sickle and knife to their places at her belt, before taking out her rifle up next. Bringing her aim to the second watchtower, the brunette was momentarily stunned as a high-powered round went right through her forehead, distorting her beautiful flower tattoo for a second, before her head coalesced right back together, looking none the worse for wear. Her shattered aviator glasses fell to the floor in pieces.

“Ouch.”

The woman felt the death of two members of her swarm keenly, too slow to get out of the way of the powerful round. It would take far, far more than that to bring her down, however. Grinning in mirth and feeling exhilarated, Cassandra took aim once again, her adversary already switching his own focus towards the group on the ground, likely presuming her dead.

“My turn.”

Letting out a deep breath, the brunette became still as a statue, as her single digit depressed the trigger. Her yellow eyes widened in glee as her target dropped dead, a spray of blood from the exit wound in his head visible to her keen senses even in the dead of night. The dead man’s partner gasped in shock at the sudden demise of his comrade and tried to bring his light machine gun to bear against her. With the speed that can only come from long hours of practice, Cassandra operated the bolt and readjusted her aim, just slightly. Click . An excited shudder ran throughout her body when her sharp ears picked up a cry of pain from the man, as her round found its mark in his torso, whatever flimsy armor he was wearing - no match against a full-power rifle round.

Humming in satisfaction at a job well done, the woman turned her cruel gaze back towards the insides of her own watchtower. Still holding her rifle in her left hand, with a grunt of effort, she picked up a surprisingly living guard with her single free hand. Holding him by his throat, she stared into his brown eyes with her own merciless orbs. 

“Ppplease…”

Not interested in hearing whatever the sheep wanted to bleat at her, the vampire bit deeply into his jugular, turning his whole throat into a mutilated mess that leaked the vital fluid generously. Drinking to her dark heart’s content, the woman moaned in pleasure at the rich taste she loved so much. The dying gasps and the feeble struggling of the worm in her unyielding grasp added the extra flavor, completing the exquisite experience.

Bela and Daniela are fools for denying themselves this. This is who we truly are. 

 

Back on the concrete ground, the group was quick to dispatch the four patrolling guards, assault rifles barking violently in the darkness of night. The Duke’s men were no push-overs and the sergeant himself claimed two kills with precision bursts. Neither Daniela nor Ethan had yet to spill man’s blood today, but that was likely about to change as a loud alarm screeched throughout the base. 

Six guards hastily emerged from the barracks, firing their assault rifles as they sought cover. The Duke’s forces replied in kind, splitting up and pouring lead towards the newest contacts. Two guards went down quickly, their simple kevlar vests unable to stop rifle rounds. One more dropped on the concrete with a horrific scream of pain, as a powerful round, courtesy of Cassandra's rifle, found its way into his thigh, severing the vital femoral artery, making the white ground run red with blood. Without immediate first aid, that man was as good as dead.

A single guard rushed towards some small, unmarked, dark green container, near the warehouse, as two others provided suppressing fire to keep the Duke’s troops down. Almost at the container, the man went down with a snarl as a round from Cassandra’s rifle tore through his guts, leaving a lethal but not immediately incapacitating wound. Determined to reach his goal, the guard crawled on the ground, leaving a trail of dark blood behind him. At the container, the man struggled to input a code into a keypad, before succumbing to his mortal wound and losing consciousness, never to wake up again.

Shooting at the covering guards near the barracks with his 9mm pistol, Ethan prayed to God that this would soon be over. The massacre that was taking place was more than a little unnerving to the man. This was a far-cry from Dulvey or that cursed Romanian village; both places were filled with barely-sentient monsters. The screams of the mortally-injured men filled the night now. These were living, breathing, thinking people who were dying all over the place here. They likely had their own families, waiting for them back home. How many more orphans and widows will there be in the world after tonight? 

Daniela was crouching at his side, her own sickle and pistol at the ready and her sharp yellow eyes giving her a degree of night vision as she acted as a rearguard. Her keen hearing alerted her to two pairs of combat boots hitting the concrete ground behind them. Quickly shifting around, she saw a pair of guards who had emerged from a small administrative building and were bringing their guns up, aiming at Ethan’s back. Not thinking twice, the girl pushed the man out of the way roughly, her unnatural strength making him tumble to the side. On her feet now, she rushed the guards even as she fired her pistol at them inaccurately. The return fire went through her shimmering form without doing any real damage. Wincing in slight discomfort at losing her swarm members, the redhead shifted around rapidly, dodging automatic gunfire even as she closed the distance to melee. To a human eye, it seemed as if she blinked around and the guards cursed in distress as she swiftly got in their faces, their free hands trying to keep the hungry and biting flies that were all over them now, away, in vain. 

Mumbling a quiet “sorry” the redhead brought her vicious sickle down on the first man, her monstrous strength making the farming tool go straight through his skull, deep into the brain. As he fell, dead before he hit the ground, with a grunt of effort, Daniela yanked the sickle out before swinging it in a graceful arc towards the second man, carving deep into his exposed neck, as he was still distracted by the swarming flies.

The sight of gushing arterial blood so close to her made her go wild. Tomorrow, she would likely hate herself and go into depression once again, but now, all she saw was red. Deep, beautiful, gushing, sparkling, delicious RED. Losing herself completely, she pounced on the body and began feeding on it, savagely. Blood and spittle flew into every direction as she tore huge chunks of flesh with her sharp teeth, before consuming them greedily. Barely chewing, she gulped down meat and blood with insatiable, ravenous hunger.

Ethan, now fully upright, could only stare at the sight in undisguised horror. The sweet, caring girl that wanted to play with his three year old child earlier today now showed her true colors, as she mercilessly devoured a man alive, his still twitching form betraying his unspeakable agony as her teeth violated his flesh.

As if feeling his gaze burning holes into her back, the redhead paused her grisly feast and stood up slowly, before turning to face him. She was covered from head-to-toe in blood and viscera, her smiley pin now colored dark red. She looked absolutely feral as she stared at him with narrowed, vicious eyes. Mere hours ago her molten gold orbs gazed at him with kindness and affection, almost love. Now, they held nothing but murderous intent and bestial rage. As the vampire hissed and snarled at him, she clutched her sickle tightly and Ethan was suddenly prepared to fight for his life against the former ally - now tense and aggressive in posture, ready to pounce on him.

On instinct, his arms tried to raise his firearm at her, even though he just saw how little the regular weapons did against her intangible form. Two mutilated bodies at her feet attested to that. Thankfully, his rationality won out in the end, and he realized that any threatening gesture would immediately provoke her into attacking. Instead of aiming his gun at her, he slowly put it down on the ground, before standing up and calmly raising his hands up, palms open. Every motion was steady and deliberate. He spoke softly then, not breaking eye-contact.

“Daniela... It’s me… Ethan. I don’t mean you any harm.”

Whether from his non-hostile posture, gentle tone, or familiar names spoken out loud, a spark of recognition returned to her blood-crazed eyes. As realization struck her hard, she relaxed her tense posture. Her sickle fell to the ground with a clung. A single tear went down her cheek as she turned away from the man, not being able to withstand his eye contact, in shame.

Deeply distressed from the harrowing experience he just lived through, Ethan breathed out a sigh of relief. The prospect of fighting Daniela was highly unsettling for more than one reason. Looking at her shaking form now, despite witnessing her callous cruelty just now, first-hand, the man wanted to comfort the monstrous girl. Still, even if the gunfire had died down, this was a battlefield, and he would do well to stay alert and aware of his surroundings.

Looking back at the barracks, Ethan noted that the rest of the security force were all down: dead or soon to be. An armsman from the Duke’s ship lay motionless on the ground, a small hole right in his forehead. A single lucky hit was all it took sometimes. His comrade knelt over him, offering a prayer for his departing soul. The sergeant looked around, waiting to see if any more hostiles would emerge from anywhere. Glancing at the watchtower, Ethan could spot Cassandra’s tall silhouette, still clutching her rifle, surveying the battlefield below - no doubt looking for stragglers. 

Now that they’ve crushed the resistance, they could proceed with the second stage of their plan - to round up the non-combatants and to find the information they sought. Before Ethan could start on that task, however, his eyes landed on that single container by the warehouse. The man’s blood chilled in his veins at what he saw there. A single, hulking shape was emerging from the now open container, it’s two yellow eyes glowing brightly in the night. 

This fight was not over yet… it was just getting started.

Notes:

I can't write a story without putting that "Rah!" somewhere, anymore. Forgive me.

Cuteness aside, this chapter I wanted to portray all three sister's darker sides: Bela's fearsome determination to reach her goal, no matter what gets in the way, Cassandra's sadism and callous disregard for life and Daniela's lurking insanity.

Originally I also wanted to include the 'boss fight' into this chapter, but as I revised the scenes and as the word count grew larger and larger, I decided to just leave it for the next one.

If anyone is disappointed that Ethan and Bela did basically nothing in the fight, don't worry - they will get their chances to shine.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and if you have any thoughts, questions or suggestions, feel free to comment!

Chapter 10: Scoring a Goal

Notes:

This will be a fully-action oriented chapter. To anyone who is reading this for Ethan/Bela blooming love, I do apologize and ask you to bear with me. The next chapter will be for you :)

Another note I wanna make before the start: In this chapter, the breaks will be used for different perspectives, but they will partially repeat the previous scenes.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The creature was humanoid in shape, but much bigger than any human Ethan had ever seen. Lady Dimitrescu probably still had a foot or so on it, yet this... thing also had the width to complete its hulking form. It’s prodigious footfalls resonated across the ground as it moved out from its containment. 

As the towering silhouette fully emerged from the container, right into the path of one of the floodlights, Ethan could perceive it clearly. It was not a human. Neither it was some kind of a slavering mutant he expected it to be. Instead, it appeared to be some kind of a robot made in humanoid shape. Its glowing yellow ‘eyes’ were just lenses in its head. The machine’s gun-metal grey body glinted in the light that was pouring over it now. Every inch of the mechanical construct was plated in thick layers of heavy, impenetrable-looking armor. Every step it made was accompanied by the tell-tale whirring sound of servo-motors running. Hot steam above it was clearly visible, likely coming from an exhaust port in the monster’s back. An enormous, twin-barreled modular cannon was taking the place of the creature’s right arm - a thin, long barrel was right above a shorter, chubby one; a belt of ammunition ran all the way from the weapon towards the robot’s bulky backpack. The outlandish look was completed by a small, brightly-colored image of a pair of gloved hands catching a football on its right breastplate. That cheerful image provided a stark contrast as everything else on the machine screamed out a single word - trouble.

Ethan was flabbergasted. As someone who was intimately familiar with a square–cube law he couldn’t comprehend the idea behind constructing a humanoid-shaped warmachine of such proportions. A wheeled or tracked design would be far more efficient. The creature’s thundering footsteps implied its mass being in excess of a thousand pounds and somehow the man felt like questioning the robot’s effectiveness was not a smooth move in this situation.

Every single gun was trained on the metal monstrosity now. Nobody said a word as both parties took time to observe one another. Even Daniela looked at it in equal parts wonder and horror, her own black eyeliner mixed with freshly-spilled tears running down her bloodied face. At least the girl seemed like she had recovered from her own violent episode.

Suddenly, without warning of any kind, the warmachine raised its gun-arm up and all hell broke loose. 

Even though everyone present, other than Cassandra, was at a relatively same distance from the monster, it focused its baleful yellow eyes on Daniela first, perhaps judging her the most immediate threat, as the redhead was still covered in blood and was standing over two mutilated corpses. The powerful chain gun spewed enough lead to tear a normal man apart in seconds, yet the Dimitrescu daughter was undaunted as large-caliber rounds went right through her shimmering flesh, doing little damage.

Even as the reckless youngest sibling rushed into melee with a colossus that weighed ten times as much as she did, the rest of the squad opened fire with their own weapons.

Ethan was dismayed to see that the mechanical monstrosity was clearly interested in joining a competition with Daniela - about which of them gave less of a fuck about projectile weaponry. His shotgun, which could turn a lycan into a bloody mess with a single shot, was less than worthless against this foe. Nobody else fared better. The squad’s automatic gunfire rained against the metal hide of the beast, and just like rain - it was simply deflected by the unyielding hardened armor, barely leaving a scratch. Even Cassandra’s powerful rifle, barking loudly in the night again and again, merely bent the metal it struck.

The metal beast, seeing its own weapon ineffective against the rapidly approaching redhead, ceased fire and waited for her to come at it.

With a high-pitched warcry, that honestly sounded more cute than terrifying to Ethan, the woman gracefully dodged a bone-crushing swing of its weapon-arm against her, before assaulting the towering monstrosity with her sickle herself. Yet, if she expected her simple gardening tool to penetrate something that already shrugged off a hundred rounds, she was in for a disappointment. As she swung her bladed weapon with inhuman power, surely enough to slay a normal human on the spot, it merely bounced from the tough metal shell with a spark.

With her own force redirected against her, the redhead was stunned for a moment. A moment was all it took for the giant to backhand her brutally with its free hand, launching her lithe frame against the relatively soft warehouse wall, making a Daniela-shaped dent in it. Amazingly, the redheaded woman in a heap on the ground now just gave a single thumbs up, showing that she was okay. Ethan just breathed a sigh of relief at their unbelievable resilience. The robot faced them next, and the man knew he had to get serious to even get a chance at beating this monstrosity. Discarding his utterly useless shotgun, he grabbed the Wolfsbane instead. The powerful hand cannon proved too much even for a mighty Uriaș, back in Romania. Surely this steel horror would yield to its superior firepower, as well?

Not taking any chances, the man aimed at its head and fired, with pinpoint accuracy. His survival experience and the long hours spent on the firing range made him a master marksman in his own right. Three magnum rounds connected with its faceplate, denting the metal badly and making the monster stagger back a step - finally, some reaction! Colossus’ yellow visors shifted color to angry orange and it brought its unarmed, normal-looking hand up to protect its face from the next three shots.

Ethan’s Uriaș-slaying magnum ultimately did little but anger the creature and make him the next target of its ire. The chain gun roared to life and Ethan weaved and dodged, desperate to reach the cover before the powerful weapon could tear him to shreds. He thanked God when he reached the solid concrete wall of the hangar, intact. The deity, if there was one, returned his gratitude with a bang, literally. A hearty ‘thump’ rang out and a second later a small canister landed right at his feet, before promptly exploding in a shower of shrapnel and fire.

Ethan briefly recalled Jack Baker’s grinning face as the force of the explosion threw him away, both of his legs - torn away at the knees, following him along. Darkness followed.

***

Cassandra growled in frustration as the fucking freak didn’t even look at her as she landed a hit after hit on its bulk. Silly Daniela got backhanded into a wall but that would take her out of the fight only for a minute or two. The creature will still pay for laying a hand on a Dimitrescu. Bela’s stupid man-thing was drawing its attention now, with a large-caliber handcannon. The metal-man actually staggered back a step from his assault.

I am supposed to be the hero of this fight! And that fucking thing won’t even deign me with a glance! Fucking bastard. At this rate, the humans will steal the glory of the kill from me...

What she saw next made her put her glory-seeking thoughts on pause. The blonde man went flying, his legs torn away at the knees, landing in a bloody heap. Ethan didn’t move.

“You fucker!”

Her guttural roar pierced the veil of darkness easily. Cassandra suddenly wanted nothing more than to drop her gun and engage the beast in melee, yet she saw how little it accomplished, thanks to Daniela’s own reckless charge. Sure, the brunette was a much more formidable fighter than her younger sibling, yet she was not delusional enough to think that she could take that metal monstrosity with just her sickle and a knife. Instead, she forced herself to calm down, taking a deep breath, just like Bela taught her. Her mind regaining the clarity of the hunt, she once more took aim. 

Precision is my middle fucking name.

Cassandra’s form perfectly still, she squeezed the trigger. Her aim proving true, the powerful rifle round struck the thing right into its, once again - yellow right eye lens, shattering it and making the creature itself let loose a deep, deafening roar, in pain and anger now - the first vocal sounds it made. Dark red blood leaked through the shattered visor as it finally turned towards her. The brunette grinned, satisfied with that reaction. Its remaining visor changed color to a deep, baleful red and it started moving towards the watchtower - fast - as it fired its chain gun at her.

The middle daughter, ignoring the rounds going through her shimmering flesh, tried to replicate her feat of unbelievably accuracy on his left eye, but that was remarkably harder to do now that she was under fire herself and with the monster zigzagging around. Her next two shots went wide of the mark and her gun clicked empty. Cursing, the witch hurried to reload even as the monster drew closer.

The beast of metal, realizing that the woman in a watch tower was much like the one that rushed it before and that its gunfire was ineffective, changed its tactic.

‘Thump’

Cassandra only had a moment to react to a grenade that landed right at her feet. A moment she used, by jumping down the watchtower in a show of unbelievable reflexes and speed. She knew that using her swarm form against the explosive ordnance would be a mistake - her flies were too fragile to withstand a shockwave that close, while her human shape was far more resilient towards that kind of damage. The watchtower’s floor itself spared her the worst of the explosion, with just splinters and some fragments now embedding themselves into her clothing and flesh, making her hiss in pain.

She has had worse, though. As she landed on her feet, with catlike grace, she wasted not a moment to sprint away from another canister that was already inbound at her current location. The monster was completely unrelenting in its focus, ignoring gunfire from the Duke’s two remaining men completely in his pursuit of her. Each thundering step it made covered as much distance as her two ones. The whirring of its servo-motors grew even louder, clearly strained from moving that enormous bulk, with steam now coming from its joints as well as the backpack.

How the fuck is it so fast?

Another grenade landed in her path - the metal beast smart enough to adjust its aim to compensate for her trajectory. Cassandra leaped back, her athletic body up for the sudden challenge. Expecting to be showered in mere shrapnel once again, the woman was unpleasantly surprised when the canister exploded in a fireball instead, with sticky, burning compound flying in every direction. A few drops of the incinerating agent landed on her brown safari jacket, swiftly burning through the clothing and touching her skin. The brunette loosed an agonized shriek as her very flesh melted. Before she could regain her bearing, the goliath cycled another canister in - this one deep green and wasted no time in launching it towards the hapless vampire.

Cassandra knew she couldn’t dodge that one or count on her swarm to protect her. She did the one thing she still could - chucked her beloved rifle into the path of projectile with unerring precision. The rifle intercepted the canister that blew up on contact, spraying acid everywhere, melting the weapon into an inoperable mess in mere moments. The brunette’s eyes widened at that, before narrowing to slits as she glared at the mechanical menace.

“You bastard! I’ll make you pay for that!”

If the steel goliath had any respect for the noble sacrifice of the weapon, it didn’t show it, instead cycling the grenade launcher’s transparent cylinder once more, popping a blue canister with a snowflake in the barrel next.

Not wasting a moment longer, the moment her threat left her black lips, Cassandra herself took the opportunity to disperse into her swarm and gain some altitude, away from the deadly weapon. She needed an opening of some kind...

***

“Ow, ow, ow, oooowwww.”

Daniela, holding her head in dizziness, stood up, still seeing stars in her eyes. That thing sure could deliver a punch! Quickly recovering her wit, the redhead observed the situation. Two of the Duke’s men were still pouring fire into the robot’s back, but it ignored them completely as it focused on Cassandra. The fierce brunette was in a tight spot - her clothing in tatters and her visage grim. She dodged its explosives with inhuman grace, but was clearly running out of maneuvers as she prepared to throw her rifle to intercept the next one.

Daniela didn’t think twice as she rushed the monstrosity, quickly closing the distance and slamming it with all her might. Impacting that steel goliath hurt a lot! It barely lurched for her effort. Screaming loudly in anger and distress, the redhead leaped at its weapon-arm, her feet leaving the ground as she pulled and pushed on it erratically, using her own body momentum to aid her in that task. Seeing the opening she needed, Cassandra was quick to join her younger sister in trying to do anything to slow that thing down. Coalescing on top of its massive shoulder plate, with a guttural growl, she plunged her knife deep into its broken eye lens.

The monster roared in pain as it swung its arms around in clear rage, trying to swat the pests from its massive bulk, but the girls were agile and evaded its clumsy blows easily, now that they were tag-teaming it. As she dodged another swing of its gun-arm, Cassandra returned back to her knife, still lodged deep in that thing’s eye. Trying to push it even deeper, the brunette was surprised when the metal armor underneath her suddenly felt hot, even through her heavy boots. The huge beast’s metal plates started to glow red as the temperature around it rose substantially.

Before the Dimitrescu sisters could do anything, they were blasted away by the superheated steam rushing from the creature’s every joint. Daniela, who was striking at its back now, got hit the hardest, with the huge stream of steam from the backpack’s primary exhaust port pushing her away violently, even as it burned her skin and made the girl let out a piercing cry of anguish. Cassandra leaped back into the solid ground and used her arms as a shield, instead. She grit her teeth as the scalding current washed over her. Blinded by vapor, she didn’t see the gun-arm coming at her.

The vicious backhand Daniela experienced before might have been a gentle lover’s touch compared to what hit Cassandra next. The blow from his enormous weapon-hand was so mighty that the brunette’s body was launched all the way back to the still-standing watchtower, impacting one of its concrete pillars in a bone-shattering collision. The watchtower finally had enough punishment and collapsed on top of the middle child, burying her in rubble. No normal human could ever hope to survive such an experience.

***

Bela stared at the video feed in horror. A metal monstrosity of some kind that would’ve made uncle green with envy was now wreaking havoc on the island. Nothing their people had could put even a scratch on it. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw Daniela flung into the wall of a warehouse. The redhead was fine, though. It would take more than that to end a Dimitrescu. 

The Duke was looking at the monitor as well, grimly. Before the woman could address him, the rotund man spoke into the microphone near him. 

“Damian, get the Mjölnir to the sun deck, on the double.”

The voice that responded was both apologetic and angry.

“I can’t, that brunette bitch broke my arm…”

Cassandra! Can’t you go one day without causing a mess!?

Huffing, the blonde woman rushed towards the armory, determined to bring out that item herself. Reaching it in record time, she noted that the powerfully-built armory master indeed had a broken arm, held in a crude splint now. Whatever caused her sister to assault the man was of no interest to her, at the moment, however. Her piercing yellow eyes locked on his own, in obvious question. He just pointed at the huge, almost person-sized black case that stood apart from the rest. Grabbing the case with both hands, Bela could barely lift it, to her own surprise. Normally, anything human-operated was trivial for the Dimitrescu daughters to handle, thanks to their inhuman strength. This thing was damn heavy, even for her, though. With obvious exertion, she trudged the case to the upper deck, moving as quickly as she could with the extra weight.

Arriving at the sun deck, the blonde briefly had no idea whatsoever what it was that she needed to do. The island was two miles away, engulfed in complete darkness. Even if her night vision could pierce through the pitch-black night, the combatants would be just specks of dust from this range. 

Shrugging her shoulders, she opened the case and marveled at the sight before her. It was a gun. A weird, very large, very bulky gun. Twin long rails, parallel towards one another, ran where a normal weapon would have a barrel. Dozens of what she assumed to be capacitors were placed throughout the weapon’s body.

Not wanting to further waste time inspecting the expensive-looking toy, the blonde, with a grunt of effort, picked the device up. For a second there, she wondered about how ridiculous she must look now, lifting a gun that was almost as large as her own body. Dismissing the irrelevant thought, Bela quickly located a large red button on it. Not thinking twice, she pressed it. A small monitor on the right side of the weapon sprang to life, flashing a low-power warning at her. Growling in frustration, the woman almost roared at the person approaching her.

“What the hell am I supposed to do with this!?”

The armory master held a thick cable that ran all the way down towards the ship's innards. Without saying a word, looking at her in open hostility, the wounded man attached the cable to the large port on the left side of the gun. The monitor immediately ceased its annoying low-power warning flashing and switched to a scope-like function, with a very impressive magnifying factor, instead.

Looking at it, amazed, Bela could clearly see the island and the people on it in the distance. Quickly locating the combatants, right in her line of fire, the woman was horrified as she saw the metal monstrosity dispatching Cassandra with a blow of terrifying power. As she moved the weapon towards the creature, the monitor immediately highlighted it, before offering her an optimal firing solution, likely factoring in environment, as well as distance. Obeying the gun’s directions, Bela adjusted the weapon just slightly. She was somewhat unnerved when it appeared that the metal creature turned to face her now.

Depressing the trigger, she almost wanted to break the stupid gun apart in frustration as it started charging its capacitors instead of firing. The fucking monster was seemingly observing her all the while as she waited, utterly ignoring the gunfire still hitting it in the back. Finally, after ten longest seconds of her long life, the monitor flashed a ‘ready for firing’ message.

Pressing the trigger again, she felt every single hair on her body stand up as static went throughout the gun and into her arms. The weapon discharged with a blinding flash as well as deafening whistling sound, making her eardrums hear nothing but ringing for the next minute. The air itself visibly parted as the unbelievably fast projectile speared its way towards the island, reaching it in just a second. The twin metal rails of the gun were smoking red, likely close to melting. It was obvious to the woman that she only had one more shot before they would be rendered inoperable. Looking at the monitor of the weapon, Bela let loose a loud, guttural and unladylike curse.

“Fucking bastard!”

***

Ethan's ears were ringing as he regained consciousness from a small black out, induced by his nervous system overloading for a moment from the sheer trauma sustained. Looking around, all he saw was his own blood, everywhere, as well as his legs laying a couple of feet away from him.

Ah shit, here we go again.

The man crawled to his severed limbs even as he counted his blessings in equipping that body armor. The shrapnel that would’ve mutilated his soft innards without it would’ve likely caused him to fall into a dream one doesn’t wake up from.

Taking a hold of his poor right leg, he sprayed it generously with a first aid bottle, before reattaching it to its rightful place. Spraying the stumps all over, he was satisfied that the old trick still worked and his flesh quickly started to meld back. He could feel the bones fusing together, muscles stitching themselves up and the dead nerves reigniting. The torment-like agony he felt in that moment could not be expressed in mortal terms. Now, covered in sweat from the excruciating, unspeakable experience, the man looked at his second leg, lying in a pool of his own blood.

Maybe just dying would be preferable to this? Bela can rescue Mia herself. She will take care of Rosie, too. I know she will. Having two moms is not gonna be too bad.

Dismissing the trauma-induced thoughts, the man repeated the procedure, gritting his teeth from mind-shattering suffering that almost made him miss being locked in a cell with Cassandra, as she planned to torture him with her dirty knife. Done with that grisly task, the man sighed in satisfaction, as his limbs obeyed him, once more. The agony from reattaching both of his legs could not be masked even by the adrenaline rushing throughout his body.

He still had a job to do, though. Self-pity could wait.

Pain is just weakness leaving the body.

Repeating the mantra mentally, the man stood up and picked up his magnum. He could only watch in curiosity at the juggernaut that inflicted so much damage on him, faced the direction of the yacht and just stood still. The metallic monster's complete disregard for bullets that were still pelleting its back was intriguing, to say the least. Looking around, Ethan was dismayed to see Daniela’s form, huddling next to a wall, holding herself tight in a protective ball. Her exposed skin was beet red. There was no sign of Cassandra. Two of the Duke’s men still shot at their mechanical foe, with looted firearms, as their own ran dry long ago. 

Suddenly, the robotic abomination lurched to the side, with agility that belied its impossibly heavy bulk. A visible distortion in the air passed where the creature was mere milliseconds ago. The shockwave from the projectile that flew over, towards the horizon, resonated through everyone present, accompanied by a booming, thundering sound that once again made Ethan’s ears ring, denying him his hearing completely. Someone spoke into his headset, yet all he could hear was that goddamn ringing. Ethan knelt down to grab a simple fragmentation grenade that was clutched by a dead guard, pin never pulled. He felt like it could come handy.

The Duke’s men kept pouring fire into the monster and finally, after all the firepower into its back, something there gave way. Sparks of electricity ran throughout the monster’s hefty backpack as a plume of pitch-black, choking smoke trailed into the sky.

The metal beast turned sideways, making sure to keep the ship in the distance in his peripheral vision as he finally decided to address the two humans he ignored all this time. Still standing sideways to them, the monster rotated his chain gun arm 90 degrees with inhuman speed, servo-motors in the arm whirring in anger as black smoke started to trail from its now hot-red joints. Not giving a warning, the creature opened fire, instantly shredding an armsman apart. The sergeant tumbled to cover, still firing at the creature as he roared and swore revenge at the death of his comrade. A grenade found its way to him soon, exploding in an icy inferno, turning the grizzled man into a frozen statue with its face forever locked in a defiant grimace.

As the creature turned its monstrous gun towards the defenseless form of Daniela next, another blue, snowflake-marked canister was cycled into the grenade launcher. It started to walk towards her briskly, likely wanting to make sure the vampire girl stayed down this time.

The world slowed down for Ethan as his mind worked on overdrive to get both him and her out of this goddamn mess alive. As if God-sent, suddenly the course he took in mechanical engineering came to his mind. 

There is no power source portable enough in existence for that fucking thing to move around like this!

As if inspired by that thought, the man’s sharp eyes spotted something they all missed before. A small, barely perceptible cable ran all the way from the creature’s foot to the container it came from. It was in the exact same color as the grey concrete it was on, and in the darkness of the night nobody who wasn’t actually looking for it would see it. As the mechanical menace adjusted its weapon to aim at Daniela’s huddling shape dead-center, Ethan aimed at the cable with his magnum, instead. If he missed, or if he was wrong about his theory, the redheaded girl would turn into an icicle. 

Not on my watch, she won’t.

Stilling his breath, the blonde man squeezed the trigger and was rewarded by a spark of electricity for his effort. Even though the cable was reinforced, it could not withstand the powerful magnum round as it was torn apart. 

The effect on the creature was instantaneous. Its baleful yellow eye lens lost its color immediately, turning a dull grey. The servo-motors in its joints stopped their annoying whirring as if on command, making the previously noisy creature eerily silent. Its brisk pace turned into sluggish trudging as the super-heavy armor became deadweight without the power supply. It still aimed its terrible weapon at Daniela, the girl utterly unaware of it as she held her head down with her blistered hands around it. Suddenly, Bela's high-pitched voice finally managed to pierce the ringing in his ears.

“Can’t anyone hear me!? It moves too fast! Slow it down so I can hit it!”

Ethan could only roar back at that, in desperate frenzy to save the redhead, even as he unloaded the rest of his magnum’s drum into the creature’s side, to no appreciable effect.

“SHOOT NOW BELLS! IT'S VULNERABLE NOW!”

The blonde woman didn’t wait for confirmation. A thundering spear of distorted air shot through the night once more, tearing right into the creature’s side, before flying far into the distance. Its formidable armor that was utterly impervious to anything they had, shattered into thousands of tiny pieces as a hypersonic tungsten slug went through it like a knife through butter.

The metal giant was cleanly cut in twain, right at the waist. Its legs tumbled forward while its torso fell backwards, spilling blood, guts and viscera on its way down, showing to Ethan that it was not a robot, after all. The weapon-arm fell along with the torso, making the man release a deep sigh of relief.

“Great shot, Bells!”

“Thanks. I am coming ashore with some extra men now! How are my sisters!?”

“I don’t see Cassandra anywhere… I need to treat Daniela now, looks like she got severe burns…”

“Dammit…”

Even though he was wary of the redhead for her insanity-induced stunt from before, he still approached her briskly, unheeding of the potential danger. Her skin was horribly scalded and she looked to be unresponsive, likely in shock from unbearable agony. She was shaking badly.

Not thinking twice, Ethan grabbed his last first aid spray before using it all on her affected skin. Unfortunately, it didn’t provide her with the same miraculous regeneration as it did for him, but she still let out a moan of solace as her injured dermis became slightly less red and the pain finally relented. Her shaking subsided soon after, and it looked like she fell into a calm unconsciousness. Ethan could only hope that she would be okay. Despite everything, he would never forgive himself if Daniela died here, on his watch. 

Suddenly, a disgusting, squelching sound took Ethan out of his reverie. Looking towards the offending noise, he was flabbergasted as he saw remains of the creature ooze out from both ends of its shattered suit of powered armor. Dark red blood and viscera was covering the ground around its broken husk, yet the thing was still alive as its two parts came together. It desperately tried to repair the critical damage to its body, but the wound was far too great for it to regain its previously stable humanoid shape.

Instead, a large, formless blob of flesh, eyes and mucus started to make its way at Ethan, likely in some kind of primal, instinctual drive to consume his flesh to fix itself. The filthy blob was partially translucent, allowing Ethan to see a huge, beating heart at the center of the abomination. The monster started crawling towards him slowly, but soon it gained speed, making Ethan curse. He had no choice but to stand his ground, or the unconscious shape of Daniela behind him would serve as the thing’s meal, instead of him. Out of magnum rounds and with his shotgun discarded elsewhere, the man only had his 9mm pistol to fall back to. 

Twenty pistol shots later, the blonde man was dismayed as the fucking thing turned out to be more solid than it looked, with not a single shot reaching its beating core.

An idea popped into his mind, as he saw the huge weapon-arm, still lying on the ground near the power armor husk. Waving his arms around and yelling loudly, to make sure to keep the abomination’s attention on himself, he sprinted around it, breathing in relief as it kept crawling after him, instead of going for the easier, redheaded prey.

Seeing the weapon-arm up close, the man could only growl in frustration as he saw it lack any kind of obvious trigger mechanism. How the monster operated the gun with such proficiency was beyond the man at the moment and he had no time to find out. Yet, the launcher part of the modular weapon still had a couple of grenades inside its enclosed, armor-glass cylinder.

As another idea came to his mind, Ethan shot the glass of the empty slot with his pistol, cracking it slightly. Ten shots later and the glass was weakened enough for him to bash it in with the buttstock of his pistol. The monster was almost upon him. It was moving almost as fast as a jogging human now, gaining even more speed with each second.

The blonde man took out that single fragmentation grenade he found earlier and placed it into the empty slot of the cylinder, as he took the pin out. Rushing away from both the weapon and the creature, he kept count in his head. At the last second, the man launched himself onto the solid concrete ground, as several explosions boomed, with the creature right on top of the launcher. 

Turning his still laying body around and lifting his torso up on his elbows to look back at it, Ethan couldn’t help but grin as he saw the monstrous flesh-blob both frozen solid and completely engulfed by ultra-corrosive acid. In mere moments, the filthy thing, weakened by cold, melted into dark green ooze, which gave an overwhelming noxious odor as well as a vile hissing sound as it quickly started to evaporate into nothingness.

As the adrenaline of this insane fight wore out of his system, Ethan felt his shoulders slacken and he simply collapsed back on the ground, depleted. He knew that the Duke’s sergeant was dead - humans can’t actually survive being flash-frozen, after all. He prayed that at least the sisters would both make it. Daniela was probably in no immediate threat after his first aid, but Cassandra was still out there, somewhere. Possibly critically injured. Somehow, he found the idea of that vile and cruel woman dying unbearable to his mind. Rationally, it made no sense since all she ever did was to mock, beat and torture him, yet… he still hoped the vicious brunette vampire was alive.

“Hope you get here soon Bela… your sisters need you.”

Notes:

This was actually really intense to write, I hope you all enjoyed it :D

The creature was basically a modified Tyrant in a suit of powered armor designed just for it, with a built-in weapon system instead of a trench-coat. I took some inspiration from Frank Horrigan from Fallout 2 when I wrote it. The weapon Bela used was a portable, prototype rail-gun, obviously :D I tried to keep them somewhat realistic, and believe it or not, we do have the technology to make stuff like that IRL, already (not the monster itself, hopefully).

As for the Dimitrescu girls, they never faced anyone stronger than themselves so far in this AU, and this will be an important wake-up call for them.

Next two chapters will be more exposition/feels oriented, with a lot of Bela/Ethan quality time, but I do hope all enjoyed this one, as well! Thanks for reading.

Chapter 11: Picking up the Pieces

Notes:

This chapter will be much more feels-oriented and it may contain some inappropriate behavior near the end.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Bela chewed her lip nervously as their small motorboat crossed the distance to the island, eight of the Duke’s armsmen sharing the vessel with her. They didn’t bother with subterfuge this time and the boat was directed right at the facility’s docks. The blonde woman couldn’t stop worrying about her sisters. 

I was supposed to protect them… Instead I put them in danger. Some elder sister I am… What would mother say?

Even though the whole trip took mere minutes, it felt like an eternity to Bela. As soon as the boat got close enough to the pier, the woman shifted to her swarm shape, no doubt unsettling the armsmen, but she couldn’t give less of a damn about their comfort now. Flying high above the facility, her human form still partially visible through the swarm, she was quick to spot both Ethan’s and Daniela’s downed forms. The redhead’s skin was raw red and blistered. She appeared to be unconscious.

My poor sister… she never asked for any of this... all she ever wanted was for everyone to be happy... I should never have allowed her to come to this place.

Quickly soaring down to her younger sister’s side, Bela fully coalesced back into her human form. Not wasting a second, she checked the redhead’s vitals. The blonde released a breath of relief as everything looked to be within acceptable range. Daniela would be fine. Ethan’s first aid did the trick, but Cassandra was still unaccounted for. Bela’s piercing, desperate cry was heard by everyone in the facility.

“CASSANDRA!!! Where are you!?”

Ethan, who just sat on the ground, giving off a thousand-yards stare in the direction of the power-armor husk stood up swiftly as the shriek took him from his own dark musings, but could do nothing to assist the woman. The whole place was a mess of rubble and craters, with fresh bodies all over.

At hearing no response, tears started to glisten in the elder sister’s molten gold eyes. Even though there were a great many things the two sisters disagreed on, she loved the brunette deeply and would not hesitate to lay her own life on the line for Cassandra. 

I am so sorry for all the fights we had, sister! Please...just be alive! I can’t lose you!

Bela frantically looked around the facility, looking for any sign of her beloved sibling. The Duke’s armsmen were already sweeping the area, checking for any non-combatants who hid in the buildings during the fight that took place here. A dozen of the facility workers were escorted from the barracks and put against the hangar’s wall shortly. A couple of clerks and a man in a rich black suit from the administrative building soon joined them. 

Watching the lined up humans, Bela felt bile coming up to her mouth. 

Suddenly, an uncharacteristic hatred ignited within her. The normally calm and peaceful woman wanted nothing more than to tear these men and women apart with her bare hands, right now. To watch them squirm in agony as she ended their miserable, worthless lives.

We just wanted to be left alone! To start over! But this vermin had to come for us... They would show us no mercy. Why should I show them any? 

Bela’s grip on her sickle tightened. Her normally serene eyes were narrowed to vicious slits that promised nothing but death to the targets of their ire. An armsman tried to approach her to inquire something but upon seeing her hate-twisted visage immediately retreated back to his comrades. Bela didn’t even glance at him - her gaze was firmly locked at the lined-up facility workers. She was perfectly fine with letting these humans go before...but now? 

If Cassandra is not leaving this accursed island, so won’t they.

Gripped by revenge-fueled rage, she was prepared to march towards the humans that took so much from her and claim her own blood price. Before she could do so, a single spark of rationality pierced through the haze of grief and rage that has enveloped her mind almost completely.

What am I even thinking...who cares about the humans...Cassandra is still out here, somewhere!

During the battle, she saw her sister’s body, much like a ragdoll, flung beyond the scope of the device she used to observe the fight. But Bela knew the direction. Cursing herself for her stupidity, the blonde was quick to extrapolate the likely landing destination. Her yellow eyes locked onto a collapsed watch-tower. Not missing a beat, the woman was on top of it in seconds, using her bare hands to sift through the rubble. A familiar lock of brunette hair made Bela double her efforts, even as she called out in a high-pitched yell.

“I need help, here!”

Ethan was at her side in seconds. A couple of armsmen joined them soon and together they managed to quickly gain access to Cassandra's broken body. Tears of joy now freely flowed down Bela’s face as she discovered a spark of life still lurking in her beloved little sister’s mortal shell. Not wasting a second, she swiftly opened a bag that was at her side, grabbing a spray of first aid as well as a large bottle of dark red liquid. Passing the spray to Ethan, she didn’t take her eyes away from Cassandra’s body as she asked, quietly.

“Address her open wounds...please.”

Ethan just nodded and did as told, not hesitating even for a moment to aid the woman that tortured him. In any other situation the blonde woman would’ve been left flabbergasted at the man’s incredible ability to forgive, but now she just silently thanked him for his assistance. Pushing Cassandra’s torso up, she uncorked her bottle, before forcing the contents down the unconscious brunette’s throat.

Dimitrescu sibling’s unnatural bodies were also their most potent source of healing, all she had to do was provide the resources needed.

You will be alright Cass…

Bela hoped this would be enough to stabilize her condition, but Cassandra’s human body was mutilated , with bones clearly sticking out from her bloodied frame, in multiple places. Severe, deep burns were visible on her skin. Her own dark, mold-infused blood was covering the ground. Even though their cadou-based physiology granted them truly inhuman feats of resilience and regeneration, this kind of trauma would still need proper medical aid to be fixed.

Bela herself had an important job to do here, and time was ticking. Despite being in the middle of the ocean, a distress call was surely sounded by someone during or after the battle. It was only a matter of hours until their enemies sent reinforcements here. The Dimitrescu’s eldest planned to be far away from this facility, when they arrived. Gently kissing her little sister’s forehead, the woman stood up.

“Ethan...I would appreciate it if you helped bring my sisters back to the ship. I still have some business to attend to here, myself.”

“Of course, Bela.”

The lone standing Dimitrescu smiled at the man kindly. She trusted him to see that vital task done. Giving both the man and her sibling one last fond glance, she turned around and marched towards the still lined-up humans, her sickle left behind. She wasn’t going to need it. As she approached the workers briskly, she couldn’t help but be horrified at herself for what she wanted to do to them, mere minutes ago.

Is this truly who I am, after all? Just a monster, who is happy to murder defenseless people whose biggest crime was likely just moving some crates around for the wrong employer. How am I any better than the vile scum who had abducted my mother, if I have no reservations about taking my own pain on random people, who barely had anything to do with our plight. Perhaps it is fitting, then. It takes a monster to stop a monster.

Ignoring the workers, she stomped right towards the somewhat rotund administrator in a suit, who was clearly terrified of her, as he visibly shuddered in his expensive pants at her approach. Bela beamed down at the slightly shorter person - it was not a kind smile, this time. This man was going to tell her everything she needed to know, one way or another. She couldn’t keep malice out of her voice, as she spoke a polite greeting.

“I hope this beautiful night finds you in good health, my good sir. I do believe we have some things to discuss.”

***

The night wasn’t over for Ethan, yet. The highlights included the nurse’s and the doctor’s shocked faces as he carried Cassandra’s broken form into the medbay, bridal style. Daniela was carried along by a burly armsman. As he left the professionals to their work, he couldn’t help but note the twist of fate. Just yesterday, their situations were reversed, with him crippled in the hospital bed and Cassandra roaming the corridors. Somehow that fact didn’t bring him as much joy and amusement as he thought it would.

Approaching his own room, he found Tom snoozing on a folding chair outside. His little angel was sleeping peacefully in her own bed, thankfully unaware of all the horror that transpired in the last hour. Giving the tiny girl a loving smile, the father walked back from the room, knowing that he couldn’t possibly fall asleep just yet.

Procuring a bottle of whiskey, the blonde man found himself a nice solitary spot with a good view of the island. Soon a motorboat cut through the waves to reach their ship, Bela and the armsmen were likely on it, though in the darkness of the night Winters couldn’t see them himself. The island facility’s own little supply ship was seen in the distance, drifting away from the doomed base. Ethan gave a sigh of relief at that. Bela’s piercing call to Cassandra radiated so much anguish the man wasn’t sure she would stick to her original plan to spare the workers. Despite her normally calm and pleasant exterior, the woman was quite fearsome and ruthless, when provoked.

As the booming explosion lit up the night, Ethan couldn’t help but admire the enormous fireball that engulfed a good portion of the island. Many died on that tiny patch of land, even some of the Duke’s own people. Now everyone who was left behind there was cremated in an uncaring inferno. Finishing his drink as he observed the once-in-a-lifetime firework, the man scoffed in frustration. This was their first strike against their foe, and they barely managed to escape alive. His new allies counted on him to do better. Mia and Rose counted on him to do better. 

If I’d only noticed that damn cable sooner… the Duke’s men would’ve been alive. Cassandra wouldn't have been on the brink of death.

The next day passed in a blur. Getting what sleep he could, the man discovered their yacht as a hive of activity. 

Apparently, the man ‘interrogated’ by Bela was a treasure trove of information about their opponents. Before she could even make a threat, he immediately offered up everything he had: all the hard-drives, documents, coordinates of known facilities, as well as directions the plane with Lady Dimitrescu onboard took. All of this was done in direct breach of the protocol The Connections had established, which clearly stated that if a facility was to be lost - all such information was to be destroyed. The cowardly administrator, seeing his prime guardian defeated, panicked, and in a desperate bid to survive, gave up everything. Bela was gracious enough to let him, and everyone else who worked there and took no arms against them - escape unharmed. Ethan somehow doubted the employees' own bosses would be quite as merciful, but there was nothing to be done about that.

On the same night, they were almost annihilated by the superior firepower of the enemy, and also blessed by their people’s incompetence. Now, everyone was sifting through the documents and drives, looking for anything of use. Most of the stuff was outdated or worthless, but there were already a couple of gems found.

Ethan took the time to visit the two sisters in the medical wing of the ship. Through the open door, he spotted the still beaten shape of Cassandra, as well as Bela and Daniela, sitting next to her bed, talking to each other quietly. The man was relieved to see at least the redhead back on her feet. Her arms were still bandaged however, showing little skin. Not wanting to intrude on what seemed like a private family moment, Ethan took his leave without disturbing the three Dimitrescu siblings.

The father spent a good portion of the day with Rose, just watching her draw with Tom’s crayons. Such simple activity, yet it brought him so much joy, just observing his little girl. Remembering his own stick-like drawing at that age, he grinned in pride at her own, more impressive shapes. Perhaps, she would have a bright future as an artist. If they can ever escape the shadow that now looms over them, that is. At some point, in complete tranquility and still tired from the events of the night, the man fell asleep, right in his armchair.

***

When Ethan woke up again, it was already two after midnight. Still in his armchair, he found himself covered by a blanket. Smiling with fatherly love at his precious angel, already sleeping in her own bed, the man was touched by the concern and care his little Rose could show, even at such a young age.

Feeling completely refreshed and full of energy once again, the man decided to explore the ship a bit. Thinking that just a bit of whiskey and some light meal would do him well, he headed for the upper-deck bar, the same one where he had collapsed before. On his way there, he was greeted only by a skeleton night-crew, the majority of men and women serving aboard were likely fast-asleep in their own beds.

Entering the establishment, the man was surprised to see nobody inside. Even at this ungodly hour, Ethan was sure someone would be here, eager to drink the sorrows and hardships of the day away. The place was lit by a soft reddish light, not too dark or too bright. A smooth, unintrusive jazz was running in the background, giving the saloon a relaxing, pleasant atmosphere.

As he approached the counter, suspiciously bereft of a barman that typically stood behind it, a single, cheerfully spoken name stopped him dead in his tracks. 

“Ethan!”

The voice was unmistakably Bela’s but it had a bit more high-pitched tone than usual. Turning around to face her, Ethan was flabbergasted to see the blonde woman seated in a large sofa in a corner, not visible from the entrance, a couple of wine bottles and several empty glasses arrayed on a table in front of her. She was pouring herself another glass, even as she eyed him with clear mirth in her amber orbs.

“Come join me for a drink, will you?”

Even though some annoying voice in the back of his head told the man in question that this was, perhaps, not the wisest idea, he still eagerly approached Bela, genuinely surprised and pleased to bump into her here, after not seeing her for a whole day. His energized brown-gray orbs were quick to note that her long blonde locks were once again freely cascading down her head. He also couldn’t possibly miss a slight pinkish tint to her rounded cheeks.

Was she drunk? Could she even get drunk?

As he got to her sofa, the woman patted a spot right next to her with her dainty hand, inviting him to sit close to her. Ethan decided to sit a bit further away, however, making her pink lips morph into a tiny frown. Nevertheless, Bela was quick to pour him a glass of wine, as well. Accepting the drink, Ethan finally greeted her, perhaps a bit lamely.

“Heya Bells...fancy meeting you here. Hard day?”

The woman scoffed in mock annoyance as she answered, seemingly happy to finally lay out her burdens for someone else.

“You have no idea. All the data we collected from that island is going to take days to sift through! The Duke himself is ecstatic. He said that in one night we found more information about The Connections than he did in a year. This would’ve been such a huge success...if only…”

Quickly the spark of joy in her eyes dimmed and she quieted down, her head turning to face the floor now. Ethan had an inkling about what caused that sudden mood-swing. In a gentle tone, he inquired: “How are they? I wanted to visit, but I saw you there and didn’t want to intrude...”

Bela focused her molten gold eyes on his own, at that. Her gaze was suddenly sharp and scrutinizing, even as she spoke in a neutral tone. 

“Daniela is fine. We can probably add super-heated steam to her already extensive list of phobias, but physically she has already recovered.” Ethan winced at that in sympathy. Her heat-induced trauma did look to be particularly painful. Bela continued, not breaking eye-contact. “Cassandra… is going to recover as well, though she still hasn't awoken from her coma. The doctor assured me that her vitals were strong and it was just a question of time, however.”

“I am really glad to hear that, Bela. I’ll make sure to visit them both, tomorrow. Hopefully she will be as good as new soon.”

The woman’s keen eyes roamed across his face, looking for signs of dishonesty. It just didn’t make any sense whatsoever to her rational mind that this man, sitting at her side, was wishing a swift recovery to someone who was nothing but mean and cruel to him. Yet she could find nothing that would suggest anything other than genuine sympathy and care on his now clearly-shaved face.

Daniela would’ve been dead if not for Ethan. This man. This stranger who was wronged by us. He took it upon himself to protect her. How can I ever repay something like that?

Bela finished her glass of wine before refilling it. She then inched a bit closer to him and took his right hand into both of hers, gently. The man felt heat coming to his own cheeks at the physical contact. Bela’s hands were so warm and soft… Her barely audible voice still betrayed the depthless gratitude she had to Ethan.

“I’ve reviewed the video footage of the incident, Ethan. You have sustained such a grievous injury yourself… yet your quick thinking and decisive actions won the day, in the end.” She held his hand tightly now, but not painfully so. Ethan scoffed at the notion. He sure didn’t see himself as a hero. 

“It’s hardly quick thinking if it was done at the last possible moment, Bells. I could’ve spotted that damn cable at the start. Duke’s men would still be alive and your sisters would not have gotten hurt. I should’ve done better…”

Her grip on his hand tightened even further, becoming a bit uncomfortable. Bela’s face hardened slightly as she spoke.

“What are you even saying, Ethan? Did you design that monstrosity yourself to know its weak points by heart? It’s a miracle that you’ve managed to spot that cable in the pitch-black darkness, at all.” Her almost painful grip relaxed and she continued, her voice calm.

“Please... do not be so hasty to dismiss your efforts, Ethan. My sisters are alive because of you. You have no idea what Cassandra and Daniela mean to me. I don’t even want to think about what I would’ve done if I lost them.”

Ethan had an inkling about that last part. He didn’t want to think about it either, though. 

“I am just glad your sisters are gonna be alright. I mean it.”

The woman looked at him in astonishment as she saw that he truly did mean it. She felt unwelcome wetness starting to glister in her eyes as she spoke.

“How can you be so kind to us, Ethan? We attacked you when you came to our home, merely looking for Rose. We captured and tortured you. You were to be our next main dish. How can you forgive us for all our atrocious deeds?”

The memories of that fateful day returned to the blonde man with a vengeance. He could still vividly recall Bela’s grinning, bloodied face over his downed form, her vicious sickle soon finding its way into his leg; her blood-starved words: “Man-blood!” . Then came Cassandra’s ‘sessions’ of unspeakable cruelty. Daniela’s cheerful but callous disregard for his life.

But then came the memories of how gentle and kind Bela was, when she patched him up. Offer him food and drink. How she went behind her own family’s back to free him, while returning his daughter to him and providing him the tool he needed to ally with Heisenberg and ultimately best Miranda herself. Ethan could only sheepishly run a hand through his mane of dirty blonde hair, before answering the fair inquiry. Rationalizing on behalf of bloodthirsty monsters was a new experience for him.

“You’re right, the start to our friendship was...tumultuous. But I was just some intruder who barged into your castle, uninvited. It made sense that you treated me with some...hostility back then. But then you helped. Would I ever even get to Miranda and save Rose without your aid? Would I ever have left that valley alive?”

Bela right hand shot to a full glass of wine at that response, her left one still firmly gripping his own. Gulping it all down in seconds, she poured herself some more, before repeating the process, making Ethan’s eyes go wide. He finally helped himself to his own drink at that sight. Despite not being a wine connoisseur, he could still appreciate the fruity taste. Bela let go of his hand as she looked away from him and spoke, her tone suddenly full of misery and regret, even as her words were full of cruelty.

“Don’t you get it, Ethan? I didn’t help you. I used you. You were my tool to set my own family free. And now you call it friendship ? How could I ever call myself your friend after the unspeakable things we put you through? I am just a vile, repulsive monster that deserved every single bit of suffering I went through.”

Naturally, Ethan did think about the help Bela provided as not something that was inspired purely by altruism - the woman did say so herself back then, after all. Still, it was something that he was eminently grateful for. Moreover, her harsh self-deprecation just didn’t resonate with the man anymore. Bela was no angel, but a monster ? Would a monster provide kindness and comfort? Would a monster show such unconditional love like she did towards her sisters and mother? Would a monster hold his daughter so protectively? Would a monster hate herself for her past evil deeds?

The man didn’t think twice about scooting closer and embracing the distraught vampire at his side, unheeding of the fact that she could’ve probably torn him apart with her bare hands, if she wanted to. Not when she was in such an obvious need of comfort, herself. With both of his arms over her slender, slightly quivering frame, the man was once again amazed at just how solid the blowfly woman felt. How human . He could feel something wet dripping down to his arms. Tears… Now matter how strong someone was, there came a time where even they would reach a breaking point.

“There, there… It’s okay. You did some bad things. We all did. But you never asked to be born this way, did you?” Bela’s blonde head shook slightly as that. “You’re trying to do better, I can see that plainly. I can’t speak for everyone who ever crossed paths with you, but despite everything, I have nothing but gratitude for what you did for me, Bells. I would be honored to be your friend.”

Tears flowed down freely now, as the woman sobbed openly. Ethan kept holding her tightly, in their awkward position. Neither of them spoke a word as Bela let out all the accumulated grief and suffering from her system.

After a few minutes, her frame stilled and her tears subsiding, Ethan let go and moved back to his original spot, to give her some space. They sat like this, in comfortable silence, the gentle music in the background - only sound in the bar. The blonde woman sniffed a couple of times before wiping her tear-stained face with a napkin.

Finally, Bela raised her head back up from the floor and looked at him. Her amber orbs stared at him with affection and undisguised gratitude. Her cheeks were flushed with color now. She scooted a bit closer to him herself and Ethan was suddenly fully aware of how gorgeous the woman truly was. Her face, bathed in the soft red light was inches from his own now. 

Ethan felt heat creeping to his own face as he took her striking features in. The long, silky blonde locks of hair, cascading down her head. Her soothing amber orbs that were locked onto his own eyes. The rounded, healthy cheeks. And of course, the full, pink lips that were parted slightly; her warm breath on his nose smelling pleasantly of the fruity wine. Enchanted by her beautiful visage, a single traitorous thought ran through his head.

How would these lips taste?

Before he could comprehend the infidelitous idea, the woman at his side did something he didn’t quite expect. Bela leaned deep into him, nudging her head into his neck, her left hand finding its way across his back and her right one grabbing Ethan’s own one, once again. Even as he was shocked from the intimate contact, the woman let out a deep breath full of relief and contentment.

The next several minutes were, once again, spent in silence and stillness, with Ethan relaxing his muscles and even caressing the woman’s blonde locks gently. Bela let out a tiny purr at the affectionate gesture and nudged her head even deeper into his neck. Her body was now pressed firmly against his own.

The man couldn’t help but grin at how insane the situation was. Here he was, almost entangled with a vampire that could bite deep into his jugular without even needing to move her own neck. Yet he had no fear, for the very idea that Bela could hurt him was laughable to the man now. The trust he held into this woman was almost absolute by this point, and he couldn’t even explain it rationally. He just felt completely safe with her.  

The universe clearly had a strange sense of humor as Bela’s next, slightly slurred words made his every hair stand straight and his previous thoughts about trust put to the test.

“Ethan... you smell delicious .”

She is a vampire after all, and all other Dimitrescu girls made it clear that they loved my blood, for some fucking reason. Jesus fucking Christ.

Instead of biting into him, like he half-expected her to, the woman pulled back and gazed at him. She still held his hand as her amber orbs gave him the most pleading expression he ever saw in them. She was asking his permission, even if she was too ashamed to put it into words. Not being able to resist the puppy eyes of the ethereal beauty still clutching his hand, the man just nodded, resigned. He could only hope she wouldn’t take too much of his vital fluid.

Her eyes immediately widened at his non-verbal acceptance before she brought him into her own full embrace. She took her feet off the floor and knelt on the sofa, to gain better access to his neck. Her tranquil whisper in his ear made a shiver run throughout his body. His own hands rushed to hold themselves over her own back, by their own volition.

“Just relax, Ethan… This won’t hurt at all, I promise you…”

Obeying the woman, the father thought of his daughter’s smiling face and immediately his muscles relaxed. As if on cue, he felt a pair of pinpricks stinging into his neck, much like a doctor’s needle.

Bela’s hold on his body tightened as she started sucking out his blood greedily, making sure not to spill a single precious drop of the red liquid.

Ethan was enchanted by the sight of her own throat moving, gulping down his life-giving fluid. Since the wound she made was so small, the process went slowly, with the woman not letting go even for a second, grasping him possessively, almost painfully now.

In between the gulps, Bela would release an occasional quiet but guttural moan of pleasure that sounded hot to Ethan’s ears. Somehow he no longer felt like he was being drained dry of blood by a murderous vampire and instead was in a sensual embrace with a beautiful woman, who also happened to be smart, kind and loving. He couldn’t help but ponder about how well his palms would fit over her perfectly-sized breasts, that were pushing against him so roughly right now.

As he felt his traitorous body betray him, he dearly hoped Bela would not look down there . Flushed red now, Ethan found himself really glad that Mia was not on this ship at the moment. What would she think if she saw them like this? Before he could think too much on that deeply uncomfortable and troubling topic, the man started to feel dizziness creeping in. As much as he hated interrupting the vampiric girl that looked to be in pure ecstasy right now, death by exsanguination was not on his schedule today.

“Bells… Stop…”

She obeyed immediately, not hesitating for even a second. Clearly, even when disinhibited by alcohol and entranced by his tasty red liquid, the woman had an eminent respect for his wishes. Ethan could only admire a trait like that, especially since it kept that much more blood in his veins. 

The awkwardness returned with a vengeance, as even though the woman stopped sucking on his wound, her mouth remained on his skin. Her hot , wet mouth. Bela still held him tightly, as if her own life depended on it. Instead of letting go, she readjusted her legs around, catching his torso in their grasp, as well, now. Ethan could see her bloodied lips widen in a mischievous grin as her thigh brushed against his...hardness.

Oh God…

“What naughty thoughts are running through your blonde head, Mister Winters...hmmm?”

Her mouth left his skin just long enough for the words to be purred out, before returning right back to it. Her even wetter and warmer tongue was now licking his neck sensually, as well, even as her thighs started to rub against him. Ethan would have never guessed it from their interactions from before, but the woman clutching to him now could be unbelievably seductive. He wasn’t sure his own mental fortitude would last long against this sensual onslaught. Loyalty to your partner could only last so long when she was God knows where and when you were clutched by an unspeakably charming vampire you yourself held much affection towards…

Focusing his willpower in a fist, the man feebly tried talking the woman off him. Her hot breath followed by a lick of an even hotter tongue on his neck wasn’t helping… Neither was her sizable chest pressing hard against him. Or her long, shapely legs around him.

“Bela... you’re drunk…”

The woman just giggled cutely, before huskily replying.

“Am I? Just a bit, maybe? You try having two sisters who can’t go a day without getting into a mess. Sobriety is overrated anyway. I am feeling so good right now...”

God, this rubbing she does is killing me…

“I am married, Bela. Stop...please…”

Ethan released a sigh of relief as she froze her every teasing movement instantaneously. He was at his wit’s end from the want for her. His dizziness from blood loss didn’t help with his restraint either. If she hadn't stopped, he wasn’t sure he would be able to hold himself back for much longer…

“Can I just hold you like this for a bit? Please…”

The man could do nothing but oblige that peculiar request, made in an almost begging tone. He just hoped nobody would stumble into the bar and see them like this. He wasn’t sure he would like Cassandra’s reaction to this, if the wind of it ever got back to her.

“Sure, Bells...”

The woman just sighed in contentment and held him tightly, with Ethan’s hands starting to draw gentle circles on her back. Just like that, they sat on their sofa, listening to smooth jazz and bathed in soft red light.

Ethan didn’t know how long they stayed in this embarrassing position, but at some point he stopped caring. Whatever discomfort he felt was gone, somehow. He just kept caressing her back, sometimes moving one hand to play with her long hair, as he hummed along with the song playing in the background gently. He felt like he wouldn’t mind staying like this for a while. It was comfortable. It felt right.

As her grip on him started to slacken, the man realized Bela was asleep. Looking down at her face, still nudging into his neck, he could only smile gently. Her soft, cute snores reached his ears, almost making him laugh out loud from the sheer insanity of the last hour. This sure wasn’t how he expected his outing for whiskey to go like.

His thoughts drifted to Mia then, and Ethan could do nothing but feel ashamed. Even though they didn’t really do anything, the man was this close to giving in to the enchanting blonde vampire. With a start, he realized that his newfound... affection for Bela will not be going away any time soon, either, not after tonight’s experience. Still, just like always, the man could do nothing else but to go forward and hope for the best possible outcome.

Standing up slowly, with Bela’s sleeping form still clutching to him, the man carried her all the way back to her own room, almost dying from embarrassment as they were spotted by a couple of men doing their own rounds. There were witnesses to this... fling now. Fumbling a bit with procuring her keys from her pants pocket, Ethan got inside her moderately-sized cabin.

Finally getting her unresisting form off him, the man gently placed Bela on her own bed, making sure to cover her softly-snoring body with a blanket. It could get quite chilly on the ship during the nights here. 

Briefly glancing around the sparsely decorated cabin, Ethan’s eyes landed on Bela’s sickle, lying on her table, near a large stack of documents. Somehow, that simple gardening tool evoked a feeling of existential dread in him once again. He couldn’t help but vividly picture Cassandra standing over him with that very item, murder plain in her yellow eyes. The man just knew the fierce brunette would not be happy with what had transpired today - nothing transpired! - and found himself hoping that she would stay in the sickbay for just a couple of more days...

As he left Bela’s room, he gave one final glance and a warm smile to her peacefully sleeping form. She had already cuddled around the blanket and Ethan briefly wondered if she dreamed about him now. Closing the door quietly, the man briskly walked down the hallway. 

Tomorrow’s gonna be fun...

Notes:

I do have to note that Bela was NOT thinking straight at the start of the chapter. After losing her mother and faced with the possibility that her sister was dead, she reached a breaking point that induced very violent thoughts and prevented her normally rational mind from instantly realizing where Cassandra likely was.

With the bar scene, I have to admit this was the first time I ever wrote a sensual scene like that, so I hope it was somewhat enjoyable and believable and not cringe-worthy :s

They will be quite awkward around each other for a bit, but at least now I can say that Ethan/Bela ship has finally set sails.

As always, feel free to share your opinions, suggestions or criticisms in the comment section!

Chapter 12: A Lesson in Dimitrescu

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

A man of average build and height lounged in his comfortable seat, in a small dark room with six monitors with vastly different images surrounding him. The man had short black hair and brown eyes. Utterly unremarkable.

James Sallow, known to most by his working pseudonym Nightcrawler, pinched the bridge of his nose as he dispassionately gazed at the monitor to his left, where a recording from their logistics facility AO-2 was playing. The man watched it five times already. He still struggled to grasp the indisputable facts, even as they were shoved roughly into his face, again and again.

Somehow their hidden island facility was discovered and raided. The T/EX-042 ‘Goalkeeper’ unit that was stationed there was soundly defeated, despite the fact that it was outfitted with the cutting-edge threat-assessment module and designed to repel a full infantry platoon. The loss of the two-million dollar guardian unit was regrettable, but it utterly paled in comparison to the damage they suffered as the facility imploded in a fireball of epic proportions when its fuel depot was sabotaged. The warehouses contained a great deal of various expensive and rare items and components, waiting to be distributed to other facilities in the region.

And then, there were the culprits. The goddamn Dimitrescu daughters. Unsurprisingly, they were aided by the Duke - the inhumanely elusive man was a thorn in their side for a while now. Much more shocking was the presence of one Ethan Winters, also helping the filthy cadou mutants. The latter man was instrumental in the defeat of their guardian, no less. The loose ends were working together against them now, causing a figure in a low eight-digit number in property damage, already.

Further adding to the frustration, James had absolutely no idea how they managed to locate that island base. None of their recently lost assets were supposed to have any concrete information about it.

Above everything else, James simply couldn’t comprehend the idea that Ethan Winters was still alive, because of some silly infatuation Sebastian had for his wife. 

‘A personal favor’… What a joke. Someone should really stop thinking with his dick and use his head for once. I can’t believe my own fate is tied to that worthless clown. How did I ever allow it to get this bad? Fuck… I need to sort out this goddamn mess or it's gonna be my ass on the line next.

The unremarkable man knew that chasing Duke himself was pointless. The rotund merchant of death proved again and again that he could be two steps ahead of any search party they would send to locate him. But James knew his goal now. To raid their mold research & development facility and recover Subject A-D. All he had to do was to place his own pawns in the way. Let the prey come to the predator, instead of playing a useless cat and mouse game. Checking some files on his primary monitor, he hummed in satisfaction at what he read.

AO-2 logistics facility administrator, 2023 - Hugo Bergström.

James knew this man. A perfect, text-book example of why nepotism was a bad thing. Something that ran rampant in their organization, which made sense, since they did have heads of twelve families as their ruling council. Inevitably, some of the inept cousins or talentless nephews found their way to some distant place where they could reap the benefits without causing much harm. Normally, the practice disgusted the brunette man. Today, it will work to his advantage. He could vividly picture the coward panicking and giving up all the info he had, instead of merely destroying everything and playing dumb, like he was supposed to do. He knew exactly what kind of information was likely leaked and therefore - where the Duke’s little party was headed next, all thanks to Mister Bergström.

Rotating his comfortable seat around, the man pressed something on his keyboard, before looking at the monitors to his right. Massaging his temple to alleviate his mounting headache, James waited patiently. He needed some fucking coffee right about now.

Finally, the first monitor to his right lit up and a large, extremely powerfully-built man in military fatigues with tanned skin frowned at him in irritation. The man had a bright red beret on his bald head and a Cuban cigar between his cracked lips. Santiago Escobar, commander of the Dire Wolves PMC, wasted no time in asking the obvious question. His voice was as gruff and intimidating as was the man himself.

“You have our prey?”

James was not a big fan of the crass, brutish murderer-for-hire glowering and growling at him now. Still, his kind had its uses. The Dire Wolves were well-equipped, highly trained and disciplined. Their track record spoke for itself, as they were deadly and efficient against both ordinary targets, as well as B.O.W.s The Connection’s competitors wielded. Even though they were merely humans themselves, there was not a single bioweapon in the world James would bet his money on to triumph against the company of cold-blooded murderers Santiago commanded. The handler had no doubts the Dimitrescu siblings would be turned into a bloody smear on the ground if they even ran into the Wolves again.

The unremarkable man spoke neutrally, both his voice and visage distorted to make his conversational partner clueless about his true identity - a fact that the brute detested, no doubt.

“Potentially. I might have their next destination. Are your men ready?”

The merc almost roared at that, as if the very question offended him deeply.

“The Dire Wolves are always ready! The fucking mutants will pay for killing my men. My fucking brother. I’ll have some quality time with the cunt who did it, before ending her. That bug-bitch will regret the day she was born.”

Suppressing a moan of frustration from the empty bravado and unnecessary theatrics, the handler gulped down the freshly brewed black coffee that was brought to him just now. That hit the spot, even if the taste was mediocre. He spoke in that same neutral tone.

“We have some change of plans. Your targets are receiving aid from several extra parties. Some extra… firepower might be required to level the playing field.” As if on cue, before the commander could produce a no-doubt verbose growl explaining why he needed no help, the second monitor to his right lit up. The woman on it couldn’t have contrasted the brutish mercenary any harder even if she tried to.

She was a tiny thing. James wasn’t a tall man himself, but were she in a room with him, she would likely barely come to his shoulders. Her miniscule stature was far from her most distinctive visual trait, however. The woman looked like a fucking ghost, with even the calm handler being unnerved by her grim visage. It was as if every single pigment was stolen from her body - her skin was deathly pale and her short hair was white as snow. The only color one could see on her body were her deep purple eyes, yet few would find them beautiful, since a great many veins were crisscrossing her sclera, making it appear almost blood-red itself. She was dressed in simple exercise shorts and a bra, showing off her highly-athletic body. Not a single sign of extra fat could be seen on her. The tiny woman’s appearance was completely disheveled and her squinting eyes implied that she just woke up. 

This was Alice Grant, or Styx, as she liked to be called. Despite looking like a woman in her late thirties, James knew that she was, in fact, merely twenty two. A lone ‘success’ of a shady volunteer-only genetic enhancement program that took place under the auspices of the U.S. government, four years ago. Her speed and reflexes were made peerless, utterly inhuman. The price was the enormous strain her body was under, daily - aging her rapidly and forcing her to consume more nutrients than even the mountain of bulging muscles on the monitor next to her, just to stay alive and active. As soon as she found out she was the sole success of the program, and the most likely outcome for her would be to become a labrat for the rest of her short life, the woman used her newfound powers to escape, becoming a fugitive and soon a gun-for-hire that conquered the underworld.

She granted him a scowl of her own, before addressing him in a high-pitched, almost childish voice that one would struggle to match with her mature face.

“What the fuck do you want now? You know what time is it here, you dumb fuck? I told you to just send me the coordinates of the target, once your dumb-ass would finally find it. As if I wanna see your stupid fucking blurred shitface first thing when I wake up. Dumbass .”

She actually made a face at him as she spoke her angry tirade. James wanted to do nothing more than to terminate connection with the infantile assassin, but he couldn’t dismiss the sheer lethality Alice possessed. Regardless of what Mister Winters survived before, there was simply no possibility that he would walk away from his imminent encounter with Styx without an extra hole between his eyes.

Before he could respond to the vulgar woman, Santiago growled out, threat clear in his words.

What? You want us to work with this fucking freak? That was not part of the deal. The Dire Wolves don’t mingle with mutants.”

At hearing the commander’s voice, Alice exploded into a mocking, deafening laughter, before calming down and addressing the employer in her haughty high-pitched tone.

“You have to be joking, Nightcrawler. Why would I possibly want to work with these dumbasses? All they’ll do is get in my way. How hard can this Ethan Winters be? Let the professional handle the job while your dumb-ass puppies go take a walk in the park to relieve themselves.”

The small dark room exploded in a violent argument, as two immeasurable egos clashed in a verbal fight to the death. Massaging his temples with an expression of pure misery on his face, the man contemplated his life choices that led him to this very moment. At some point this gig used to be fun. It put his formidable intellect and multitasking capability to their limits. Then he got tied up with that bastard Sebastian. Now he had to babysit two deeply unpleasant personalities that somehow morphed into a true monstrosity of ego and bravado when brought into a single room. 

I hate my work. I hate my piece-of-shit boss. I hate these braindead clowns. I hate this crappy coffee they brew here.

Five minutes and twenty ‘dumbasses’ later, James finally had enough. Slamming his hands hard on his desk, he raised his own voice, for the first time in a long while. That actually got the attention of the children in adult bodies.

“ENOUGH! Let me make it simple for you idiots. I don’t give a shit about whether you work with each other or kill each other as you work. What matters to me is that the targets - yes, plural , are eliminated. I am sending you the coordinates of the facility they will likely raid next. Both of you will only be paid upon the confirmation of termination of both the Dimitrescu siblings and Winters. If any single one of them walks away, neither of you are getting shit . Do with this information what you will.”

Despite being so vastly different in appearance and clearly hating each other, the guns-for-hire did exactly the same motion at hearing that verbose tirade - folded their arms and scowled at him. James quickly terminated the calls, unwilling to hear a single more word out of their crass mouths.

Sighing in frustration and impotent anger, the man almost wished for the bug-bitches and the loony father to collapse this house of cards of theirs; if only James himself wasn’t right underneath it.

***

Bela’s upper body shot up as she woke up, still dressed in her black-grey outfit, now soaked in sweat. Her head thrummed in pain. Her mind was a curious mix of contentment and anxiety.

Was it all... just a dream?

The woman wasn’t sure if she was supposed to be happy or sad at that thought. Her black booted feet hit the floor as she got up from her bed, noting it to be soaked in sweat, as well. Her hands were still clutching a blanket without her conscious thought.

Not good signs…

As she looked into a small mirror on the wall, Bela couldn’t help but let out a distressed gasp at the visage staring back. Her lips and chin were stained with dried blood. Her hair was disheveled and messy.

Closing her yellow eyes, she shuddered as she imagined herself right back at their castle. Her trance-like vision was so potent, for a second she would swear that she could hear the piercing scream of an errant maid, being drained of blood in the dungeons. Opening her amber orbs again slowly, as if afraid to find herself back in the poorly lit castle halls that she had called her home for so long, the woman sighed in relief as her small cabin coalesced before her, instead.

Her relief was short-lived, however, as her fingers gently ran over her bloodied lips.

Ethan’s sweet blood… 

Her eyes widened as the realization finally struck. That meeting with Ethan in the bar happened . How she opened her heart to him - and he forgave her! For every vile act her family inflicted on him. He called her a friend . And then she shamelessly drank deeply on his blood, while holding him in a possessive embrace, embrace he returned! 

Bela’s fists tightened in shame at the next memory. His forgiveness, friendship and even blood wasn’t enough for her insatiable appetite that night. She wanted more. Feeling his hardness for her awakened long-forgotten desires in the woman. She craved more. She needed to have that forgiving, caring and handsome man all to herself. The man who had freed her family two years ago, who had saved her own sisters, who she had roped into their foolhardy quest to save their mother.

Bela almost felt like vomiting in disgust at herself. At how she forced herself upon him. At how she couldn’t give less of a fuck that Ethan was a married man, until he said so himself; only reason he even was here was to save his own wife.

Still...he wanted me, too… even intoxicated as I was, his desire was plain in his body...even his eyes… What do I do now? Should I just pretend nothing happened? No… That would not be fair to Ethan.

Clicking her tongue in annoyance at the deeply confusing situation she found herself in, the woman decided to take a quick shower, before heading out for the day. Her human body felt positively filthy, cowered in blood and sweat. After that she would visit Cassandra and then the ship’s dining area. Bela was absolutely famished.

***

Ethan felt somewhat apprehensive as he sat across Cassandra’s unconscious form.

This was a woman who showed him nothing but inhuman cruelty, yet now she looked so at peace, Ethan couldn’t help but question what made her that way. Was she born like this, eager for the suffering and death of others? 

Regardless of her past deeds, she was an ally now, no matter how malicious. They would be weaker as a whole if she perished and Bela… Bela would’ve been devastated. Despite her callous nature towards others, Cassandra still loved Bela, that was plain to see even to Ethan, and the blonde woman returned the affection completely.

Ethan’s contemplation was interrupted by a gentle hand laying down on his shoulder. Even though no words were spoken or glances traded, he immediately knew who the owner of that soft hand was. The events of the night were still fresh in his mind, in fact - that was something he couldn’t get out of his mind at all since then.

“You actually came to visit Cassandra… You said you would, but I just didn’t expect you to follow up on it... “

Bela's voice was as soft as her touch. Suddenly, as if recalling something unpleasant, she took her hand off. Ethan cursed at himself for immediately craving for her touch once again. What was this woman doing to him? 

God, it’s like I am in middle school all over again.

Turning around to look at her shape, standing a few steps behind him, the man was stunned by what he saw. Her outfit for today - a pair of simple dark blue jeans, as well as a pristine white blouse. A pair of simple white sneakers were her choice of footwear. For the first time Ethan ever saw, she was also bereft of her ruby choker. A small silver pendant, made in the shape of the sign of House Dimitrescu was hanging down her neck, instead.

Back in the castle, she looked menacing and regal in her dark robed dress and vicious jewelry. When they met on this ship for the first time, she was radiant in her long yellow summer dress. Later yet, she looked like a junior military officer in that utilitarian outfit. Now, for the first time, she looked absolutely casual, and that in itself was unusual and surprised the man enough for him to lose his gift of speech for a few seconds. 

Turning his head up to look at her face, the man was intrigued to see her chewing her own bottom lip, as if she was nervous. Her face was pensive. She wasn’t meeting his gaze.

Somehow, that sight alone gave Ethan the burst of confidence he desperately needed to overcome the tense silence that settled in the small onboard hospital room.

“Of course I did, Bells. I am a man of my word. And well… regardless of what happened between us before, we are all in this mess together now. Holding on to past grudges wouldn’t really help anyone.”

The blonde woman slowly sat on the chair next to him. Her gaze was locked onto Cassandra’s face as she spoke, barely audibly.

“Again, you simply baffle my mind with your ability to forget and forgive and just ...move forward. I don’t think many are capable of such a feat, Ethan.” Before he could respond to that, she continued, clearly having a lot on her mind. “What happened tonight… I wanted to apologize. I was out of line. You gave and gave and I took and took, and yet more I wanted. I don’t know what came over me… I would love to blame it all on alcohol and your intoxicating blood, but…”

She suddenly grew quiet and sullen. Ethan wasn’t sure how to properly express what he felt with words, himself. He still tried.

“Now, don’t rush to heap all the blame on yourself, Bells. You respected my wishes and my marital status, in the end. And...well… let’s just say you didn’t take anything I wasn’t willing to give.”

Oh my God. What am I even saying!?

Both of them were slightly flush now and seemingly at a loss for words. Clearing his throat and desperate for a change of topic, Ethan spoke next.

“Cassandra will awaken soon, I am sure of it. That’s one strong sister you have there. I doubt anything can keep her down for long.”

Bela hummed at that in confirmation, before letting out a mirthless chuckle.

“Stronger than me, for sure. I am not just a horrible elder sister, I am also a disappointment of a daughter, you know?”

Ethan was actually getting annoyed at all that self-hatred that poured out of Bela lately. He realized that it was most likely merely all the feelings and hardships she bottled in for years, not wanting to share her burdens with anyone. Now that the dam was broken, they were all rushing through. Still, he couldn’t help but want to defend Bela, even from herself.

“How can you say that Bela? You’re ready to take on the world to save your mother. You’re ready to die and to kill for Cassandra and Daniela. How can anyone ask for a better sister or daughter?”

Bela’s fingers were drumming against her chair’s armrests as she spoke, with regret in her voice.

“I am supposed to protect my younger sisters. Does Cassandra’s broken form speak much about my ability as a protector to you, Ethan? Don’t even answer that. I wasn’t talking about our current predicament.” Ethan furrowed his brows in confusion. The woman continued, undaunted, her tone growing more confident.

“Did you ever wonder why Cassandra is like this? Cruel and sadistic? It's because of me.” That made absolutely no sense to the man. How can Bela being kind and caring could lead to her younger sister being the opposite…

“I was the first daughter my mother welcomed into the family, Ethan. Back then, she worked hard at providing... accommodations to Miranda’s numerous subjects. She had to prove her loyalty. Her worthiness as Miranda’s own elder daughter. So she took to the grim task with gusto. Mother expected her own first child - me - to provide assistance with managing our guests . She expected me to have a firm and unyielding hand in butchering them, when needed. To make sure none of them even harbored any thoughts of escape. To put mortal terror into their hearts. Mother couldn’t disappoint Miranda, and therefore I couldn’t disappoint mother.”

Ethan just watched her in morbid fascination. She continued, without making a pause.

“But I did. Mother never said so, for I know she loved me despite me never quite meeting her expectations. But one day, when I failed to properly inspire fear and one of the captives escaped, she just looked at me with disappointment so plain in her eyes, she might’ve spoken the words out loud. From that day, it was Cassandra who became mother’s right hand. My sister didn’t start craving pain and violence. It was...an acquired taste that took years to properly develop. With every victim tormented, every escapee made to beg for death in front of others, her lust for violence grew.”

Bela spoke it all in such a nonchalant, resigned tone, Ethan wasn’t sure if she even wanted him to respond in any way. Perhaps she was merely looking for a friendly, non-judgemental ear to pour out things she never told anyone before? Things that gnawed on her heart for years . She looked at him then, locking her sad molten gold orbs with his own. Giving him another mirthless chuckle, she continued her story.

“And Daniela. Poor, innocent Daniela. I failed her too. Do you know what happens to us when we stay too long as a swarm?” She paused, looking at Ethan. The man just shook his head. She had his full attention now.

“We start to lose our sense of self. It is a slow process, but hour by hour, it just leaks away, possibly never to return. Until just a feral, bestial shell that knows only rage and hunger remains.” Ethan immediately recalled Daniela’s feral grimace, hissing at him as she was prepared to pounce at him. He couldn’t suppress a gulp. Bela still talked.

”Out of all three of us, she had the most calamitous ‘welcome’ into our little family. For months, she could not find the harmony between her two shapes. Oh, how she screamed when the agony of her human flesh would not relent! I can never forget these pained cries...” Bela paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts as she herself vividly recalled these painful days.

“So, to spare herself the torment, she stuck to her swarm shape, instead. For days. Eventually, she grew used to her human body, but her mind was forever scarred by the experience of these long months.”

Bela sighed in sadness. Ethan suddenly had a strong urge to comfort her in any way he could.

These girls faced such horror...I never imagined it was that bad for them…

The man inched his chair a bit closer and placed his right hand over her right shoulder, taking her into a gentle embrace. Placing his left hand on her closest knee, Ethan was not surprised when her own dainty hands immediately grabbed it, holding it tightly. After everything she lived through, comfort was the most valuable currency for her, he realized. Bela smiled at him softly, before her face turned grim once again and she continued her terrifying narration.

“Daniela was so cheerful, so loving. All she ever wanted was for everyone to be happy. But sometimes, when feeling particularly famished or threatened, that beast that always lurked just below would emerge. Without warning, the kindest girl you could ever meet would turn into a monster that would like nothing but to tear you apart and devour your flesh. A single maid, bumping into her by accident, was enough to drive her into a murderous rampage. And after that maid was naught but gnawed bones - came the depression, the self-hatred.”

“How do you match two personalities like that?” Bela looked at him with questioning eyes, as if expecting an answer. Before he could even say anything, she continued, voice firm.

“You really don’t. But we were so desperate to preserve that cheerful spark. Mother and I convinced her that people were happy being murdered and devoured by her. Instead of actually helping her, we abused her still malleable mind. I even went down to the village and found a couple of the most down-on-their luck people I could and offered them a deal: they go and put up a show for Daniela and we would provide for their own families. A few of them even agreed. And so Daniela as you knew her was born. Delusional and callous, but still caring and happy.” 

Several beats of uncomfortable silence passed.

“We decided to burst the bubble we put her in ourselves only after Miranda was gone. She didn’t take it too well. It took her a year to recover her joyful nature. I am still surprised she doesn’t hate me now.”

She quieted down and just held his hand as she stared straight ahead now. Ethan was completely at a loss for words. He now knew more about the Dimitrescus than he ever thought he would. Their past was as dark as he expected, but it was far more troubled than he could’ve even begun to guess. Hardly black and white. 

Ethan held the woman tighter, with her leaning back into his embrace. He mumbled out, sounding reverent and respectful, as this case was far too complex for him to judge from an outsider’s perspective.

“You did what you thought would’ve been best for your sister and now you question your decision. But that’s the thing, with the benefit of hindsight we can question every single move we made in life. Your intention was for her to be happy. I am sure Daniela appreciates that, at least.”

Bela hummed as she thought about all that with a pensive look on her face. She leaned closer to him, placing her blonde head on his own shoulder. A small, soft smile was playing on her pink lips. She cooed at him.

“I never expected anyone to accept us for what we are, Ethan. But you just keep surprising me, again and again. Mia is one lucky woman to have someone like you.”

That statement evoked conflicting emotions in Ethan, especially with Bela’s slender frame leaning against him. Her long hair smelt pleasantly of shampoo. They sat like that for a bit, in companionable silence. Ethan couldn’t help but wonder what would have Cassandra done if she woke up right now and saw them like this… Would she turn violent and protective? Or would she just give them a knowing smirk? Before he could think too much about it, he heard growling coming from...Bela’s stomach? The woman flushed in embarrassment before noting, meekly.

“Sorry...I am feeling a bit peckish. As delicious and filling your blood was - thanks for agreeing to...provide it like that, by the way, I appreciate it more than you know - it was pretty much the only thing I’ve had in a while.”

Bela moved to stand up and Ethan promptly released her from his embrace. She still held onto his hand tightly, with her own, though. The woman gave him a fond glance before leaning down and kissing the unresponsive brunette’s tattooed forehead gently.

“Get better soon Cassi... we miss you.”

Even though Ethan couldn’t genuinely say that he shared the sentiment, the love Bela held in that gentle gesture and her soft words was undeniable. He felt his own heart touched at the display of sisterly affection. Being a lone child, he felt a bit like a third wheel in this situation, but Bela held on to his hand just the same. She finally let go as she turned towards the exit. He wasn’t sure if the woman wanted him to follow him, but her next utterance made that clear.

“Coming, Ethan? I’ll understand if you’d want to stay with Cassandra a bit more. You two have quite the experience together, after all.”

The giggle that followed put Ethan himself at ease. He was afraid the mood would remain tense and somber, but it seemed like Bela drew comfort and reassurance from the interaction just now. The man was glad that she did.

As he followed her across the corridors of the ship, Ethan finally became uncomfortably aware of how well her casual dress fit her hourglass figure. He couldn’t help but admire her well-endowed rear. Her keen amber orbs glancing back at him must have caught the direction of his own eyes, since she grinned in mirth and her hips started swaying a bit more as she walked. 

Ethan realized that Bela could be quite playful and seductive, once she opened up. One adjective he never really consciously applied to Bela before was at the forefront of his mind now. Sexy . Long, shapely legs connecting to a slender torso with a moderately-sized, firm-looking chest. Beautiful face, now holding that confident, once again self-assured grin. Intelligent, playful eyes, stealing glances at him every so often. A touch of dark makeup further emphasized her natural beauty, as did her long locks of blonde hair, cascading down her head freely.

Ethan always felt himself lucky for having a pretty woman like Mia settling down with him. But Bela was not merely pretty in his eyes right now. She was drop-dead gorgeous.

The man gave a sigh of relief as they finally got to the luxurious mess hall and he got to gawk at something other than Bela’s shapely rear. A mess hall didn’t quite do the justice to this vast, richly decorated dining area. Beautiful paintings decorated the walls, rich red tables lined the large, open room and the expensive chandeliers lit it all with soft light. A large number of crewmates were enjoying their well-prepared meals, talking loudly meanwhile. A group of armsen sat by themselves, looking remarkably more grim. They were likely still mourning their own fallen comrades.

Ordering a well-done beef steak with some mashed potatoes, Ethan’s jaw almost dropped to the floor as he saw what Bela herself had. Catching his astonished expression, the woman gave him a smirk as she settled her tray on an unoccupied table, filled to the brim with her own rare steak. Sitting across the table with her, the man could only watch in fascination as she started to wolf down her meal. She must have had at least three times as much meat as he did on her tray.

She ate like a well-mannered lady, with a fork and a knife and it was clear that her agile fingers were well-versed in the table etiquette. Yet the speed with which she consumed the meat was barely human. Occasionally she would stop destroying the steak in front of her to take a gulp from a glass of wine. Ethan himself ate slowly, content to observe the unusual sight.

At his, likely rude, continuous staring, the woman gave a small sigh and paused her feast, before looking up at him and saying, softly. Her eyes betrayed her curiosity before her words did.

“What do you think I am, Ethan? Biologically speaking. Feel free to speak your mind, you won’t offend me. I am just curious…”

Ethan was flabbergasted at that inquiry. He was thinking about that very query for a while himself, but could hardly come to a definite answer. He meekly tried to toss some of his ideas at her, since she did appear genuinely interested in his opinion.

“That’s a rough one, Bells. A swarm of hive-minded blowflies that take the shape of a woman is what I would’ve said two years ago. But...you feel way too solid for that.” The blonde woman giggled softly at that, before nodding for him to continue. “So...a woman who turns into flies, instead, maybe? I just don’t know.”

She grinned at him widely, showing off her pearly white teeth. At this distance, Ethan could see that her fangs were a bit longer and sharper than a normal human’s.

She stretched both of her hands in front of her, almost touching Ethan’s face. As if on command, her right hand turned into swarming insects, which still arrayed in the outline of her hand. The little beasts even held her blouse’s sleeve up. Ethan couldn’t resist the shudder that passed throughout his body. Someone in the dining area let out a gasp of shock but neither Bela or Ethan paid them any mind. She spoke in a playful, but somewhat lecturing tone.

“You’re right… and wrong! I am both… and neither!” Her right hand returned to its human shape once again, before she retracted them both to her side. She continued: “In a shocking twist, even I won’t be able to tell you for sure, what exactly I am. But I have a theory, something I’ve been studying for decades now.”

The woman paused, her gaze firmly locked on his own. Somehow that last part she spoke turned the gears in Ethan’s own mind. He couldn’t help but ask the burning question.

“Decades? Forgive me for prying, but… how old are you, exactly, Bells?”

For some reason, Bela was clearly exhilarated by this discussion. Her eyes were wide in mirth and her grin was unrelenting, even as her fingers played along with cutlery, restless. She gave him a mock pout as she answered, in a playfully accusing voice.

“Oh? It’s not polite to inquire about a lady’s age, Ethan. I expected you to know better… But! Since you asked so nicely, I’ll answer anyway! I am sixty four. Turning sixty five in three days.”

Ethan was not even shocked. He had an inkling the woman was way older than she appeared to be. Still, he felt like a kid next to her, now. And she had a birthday soon… Would she expect a present now? Clearing his throat, the man tried to speak neutrally. His response turned out somewhat lame, to his chagrin.

“I see… you look really nice for your age...What about your theory, though?”

Bela was almost jumping in her seat as she responded. Ethan could suppress a light blush no longer at her next, flirtatious words. He struggled to comprehend how open she was now, compared to her previous, reserved speech. Was this her true self? Unburdened and unbound, free to enjoy herself?

“Ah! Firstly, let’s talk about this beautiful body you’re staring at so shamelessly.” She winked at him at that. ”There are a couple of differences in our human forms, compared to a normal person. The blood that flows through my veins right now is rich in mold particles - which gives us our increased strength and resilience, as well as its distinct black coloration. Although... it does require a...specific temperature range to circulate properly. A bit more narrow than what an average human can handle.”

Ethan's eyebrow rose up at that. He was curious about what she meant by that. Did they not like the extreme cold or warmth? Bela was positively giddy with excitement as she spoke next. This clearly was a topic she wanted to discuss with someone, anyone , for a long time.

“Then there are some minor differences in the structure of our digestive tract. While the exquisite taste of human blood is reason enough for us to partake in it, sometimes; the true value comes from how efficiently our bodies can metabolize it! Whenever we need a sudden burst of energy fast, nothing works better than a pint of fresh warm blood for us! We don’t actually need it to survive, though. Any normal meat works just as well, in the long term.”

The passion with which the vampire girl discussed the perks of consuming human blood was not lost on Ethan, as he found himself simply staring at her in morbid fascination, his own mouth slightly open and eyes wide. The woman clearly loved the dumbfounded look on his face, though.

“Then! Our delightful shapeshifting ability! I bet you wanted to know about that, didn't you? Well, you’re in luck today!” She cleared her throat, as she launched further into her lecture, amber eyes alight in almost childish glee.

“What I like to call us: myself, Cassandra and Daniela - chimeric beings. We are both the human and the cadou fly - we have complete DNA of both species, I checked! We do not merely mimic a human body, we assume it completely, down to chemical processes inside the body itself. When we shapeshift, the most accurate term that would describe the change would be, in my opinion - transmute .” 

She was looking at him intensely, checking if he was following along. Ethan was amazed beyond words at what he already heard. She continued her Dimitrescu biology class, still in that excited tone.

“Naturally, it's not all sunshine and rainbows for us! The transmutation process is extremely energy-intensive. We have to consume a large number of nutrients to recover from shifting our shapes around. That’s why I personally prefer to stick to my human form, most of the time. Moreover, any damage any of our forms takes will be carried over to the other, as well. Losing too much of my swarm will be akin to a human losing blood. I would barely notice losing a couple of my dear blowflies, but as the number of casualties grows, I would start to experience comparable side effects - dizziness, weakness, loss of consciousness, even death!”

Seeing his wide brown-gray eyes glued to her own, the woman hummed in satisfaction, as she finished her lecture, sounding a bit flirty at the end.

“Ultimately, with a couple of minor differences, I am both the woman and the swarm. Personally, however, I do prefer to think of myself as the woman first, and the swarm second. Which form do you prefer?”

Ethan didn’t need to think twice about that question. He still responded somewhat sheepishly, not wanting to offend her.

“The woman...I guess…”

She giggled cutely at that, before giving him another wink and returning to wolfing down the remains of her red meat, now likely a bit cold. Ethan finished his own meal, his mind overwhelmed at all the information he received today. 

At this rate, I’ll be an expert in Dimitrescu in no time at all...Is that a good thing?

As they finished their meal in comfortable silence, Bela cleaned her mouth with a napkin, before standing up, Ethan following suit. The woman clicked her tongue in annoyance, before speaking.

“I still have plenty of documents I wanted to look through today. Catch you later?”

A shiver of anticipation ran throughout the man’s body at that last part. He nodded and spoke, hiding his own, likely unhealthy, excitement.

“Sure thing Bells. I'm gonna go check up on Rose. By the way...”

He felt like flushing red as her intrigued eyes fell upon his own, once again. Still, he just had to say it.

“You look absolutely fantastic today.”

Ethan expected a simple ‘thank you’ or maybe a beat of uncomfortable silence, but instead he was grabbed in a tight embrace, once again. Nevertheless, he returned the hug gladly, his palms feeling right at home at her back. Her voice was a mere whisper in his ear.

“Thank you Ethan...for everything. I don’t know if I ever can, but I will do my best to truly earn the right to be called your friend.”

Just as quietly, the man whispered back.

“You already did, Bela…”

Her answer was firm and it brooked no further argument.

“No… I really didn’t. But I will, Ethan. You can count on it.”

She broke the embrace slowly, but still stood only inches away from him, her eyes locked onto his own in resolute determination. Ethan gazed back, yet he couldn’t help but glance down at her full, slightly parted pink lips, so close to him now he could feel her warm breath. They looked so soft, so inviting... It took everything the man had not to taste her right now, right here, consequences be damned.

As he slowly turned away from her instead, he could swear he heard a sigh of disappointment. Weirdly, it didn’t sound like it came from Bela herself.

“I’ll count on it then. Have a good day, Bells. I think I’ll need to catch a nap myself.”

“Sweet dreams, Ethan.”

Her voice is so lovely…

***

In his own moderately large cabin now, Ethan observed Rose work on her latest painting. For some reason, the girl was hesitant to show it to the father and would hide it behind her back whenever he approached. Ethan couldn’t deny his curiosity, yet he was not going to push it.

Taking off his shoes, the man dropped on his bed, utterly exhausted. Today was a long day. That nightly encounter with Bela. Then all the exploration of the ship he did - learning its twisting corridors almost by heart, out of habit. Then meeting the beautiful woman again, at Cassandra’s side. The informative meal taken with her. Recalling the conversations, he couldn’t help but feel awful about the three sisters, especially the redhead.

I’ll visit Daniela tomorrow. Poor girl needs some comfort, as well. Maybe I can help her in some way...I do know a thing or two about an inner beast, begging to be let loose...

Feeling like drifting off to sleep, the man was interrupted by a soft patter of bare feet on the carpet. Looking up, he saw Rose standing in the doorway, clutching her painting, backside of it facing him. She was looking at him curiously, before switching her gaze to an empty corner of the room for a few moments. Not looking from that corner, she spoke, meekly.

“What’s a mooo-ron, daddy?”

Where did she hear that word? I didn’t take Tom for a swearing type.

“It’s moron , honey. It means a stupid person. Where did you hear that word?”

She finally looked back at him, but her expression was a pensive one, as if she didn’t really understand what she was saying herself.

“Evie says you’re a moron, daddy. That if you wanted to taste her lips so badly, you should’ve just went for it. They were this close to you.” She showed the distance with her two tiny index fingers. They portrayed the actual distance of the incident they referred to accurately, to the man’s utter horror.

Ethan was stunned into complete silence, with sweat starting to bead on his forehead and his features paling. The tiny girl continued, taking an occasional glance at that empty corner, before looking back at him.

“Mommy wouldn’t have minded. The more the merrier.” The girl spoke the first part as if she was merely repeating someone else’s words before looking in his eyes in curiosity and asking normally: “Why would you want to eat someone’s lips anyway, daddy? That sounds nasty.”

Barraged by questions and nightmarish thoughts, Ethan could gasp out only a single question in return.

“Rosie...honey… who is ‘Evie’?”

The girl didn’t hesitate as she answered honestly.

“Eveline. But she likes it when I call her Evie. She is right here, daddy, but she says you can’t see her because you’re stupid and mean. I don’t think you’re stupid or mean myself, though. I love you daddy.”

Ethan felt like his head would implode at this newest development.

This can’t be happening… this can’t be real… not Her… not inside my baby girl now…

Looking at his precious, innocent angel with horror-filled wide eyes, Ethan mumbled a shaky question.

“I love you too, Rosie… Have you been seeing...Eveline… for a long time?”

The tiny girl pondered for a couple of moments, before nodding and responding.

“I think so...I don’t really remember when I saw her first, but she wanted to play a game with me. She is funny and nice. I like her.”

“A game…?”

“Uh-huh! She called it: Hide me from the World! It was a really fun game, too, but now she says she doesn’t wanna play it anymore. She asked me to show you this.”

Rose rotated her picture around, showing a childish but unmistakable frame of someone Ethan never wanted to see again. In this simple drawing, the figure of a small girl, dressed in black was grinning wide at him. The man felt like his heart just stopped beating.

Rosie scrunched up her nose as she spoke next, as if she wasn’t liking the words herself, but still felt obliged to relay them.

“Evie says that she doesn’t need to hide from you anymore, because you’re fucked now and can’t hurt her anymore. What’s ‘fucked’, daddy? Why did you want to hurt Evie? She is nice...”

If Jack Baker himself walked into his cabin right this very instant and spoke in his accented tone: “You... better... run... Here's Daddy!” while swinging his shovel, Ethan would’ve felt more at ease.

What the fuck...

Notes:

I don't know how this chapter got so big... I even originally wanted to add another Alcina/Mia segment here, but that would just be too much, for sure.

Anyway, I do hope you've enjoyed my villainous OCs, coz Ethan and friends will be seeing them all quite soon. I didn't want my villains to be faceless goons, so I tried to give them all unique personalities. A burned out handler who just wants to get out. A blood-thirsty merc who is out for money and vengeance. A psycho infantile assassin who is mostly in just for kicks.

Also, I do hope my background for Dimitrescu siblings as well as the biology class was believable and interesting. I did want to humanize them a bit more for a while. How did you like unburdened Bela? :D

I bet nobody saw this particular Eveline scene coming! I was originally planning to bring her back when Ethan was at the brink of death, but then I didn't want to repeat my previous story too much, so I decided to introduce Evie through another character. I felt particularly inspired thinking out this scene. What do you guys think? Did it work out?

Thanks for reading! Always happy to answer any questions you might have!

Chapter 13: Cruelty and Kindness

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Styx stretched her badly aching limbs as she grumbled under her breath.

“Dumbass pricks. Who do they think they are!? I didn’t carve my way through twelve countries just to be forced to work with some unwashed mutts.”

As the tiny woman left her bedroom, a sudden seizure in her thigh forced her to lean on the doorframe, while cursing loudly, with sweat beading on her pale forehead and her breathing heavy.

“Godfucking damn it. If I didn’t need the money I’d tell them all to go to hell. Fuck.”

And that son-of-a-bitch doctor charging a hundred grand for a fucking single dose. I can’t even threaten his family because the dumbass doesn’t have any. Guess that makes him not that dumb of an ass, come to think of it.

Recovering from her muscle spasm, the assassin started preparing her failing body for her next, likely final job.

I got one or two gigs left in me. After taking this fat paycheck I could just live the rest of my days like a fucking queen, with my every need catered to. Just gotta put that dumbass Winters and his bug girlfriends into the ground and I am all set up for retirement.

Entering her large but poorly kept living room, on the outskirts of Rosario, Argentina, the woman couldn’t help but grin at the sight that greeted her inside.

Her two beloved pets were gnawing bones of yet another wanna-be thief that clearly attempted to burglarize her apartment during the night. Even though this was a pretty nice country overall, this particular area was as shady as it gets. Most people knew not to mess with her by this point, but there was always an occasional desperate junkie or a gangster with something to prove. Alice really didn’t mind. Pet food wasn’t that cheap nowadays. 

Gently petting a monstrosity of flesh and muscles that weighed five times as much as she herself did and which could’ve easily crushed the tiny woman’s spine with a single swipe of its clawed paw, Styx cooed at them, completely unafraid.

“Fang, Saber. Get ready for a hunt, boys! Mommy needs that reward money badly, so you better not fail me!”

The vicious monsters bowed their malformed heads in submission, letting out low, accepting growls. When she was first offered these two lickers-δ by her Connection contact, two years ago, she was understandably apprehensive at the idea of having mutated creatures as her pets. Nevertheless, after an imprinting procedure, the lickers turned out to be loyal, obedient and steadfast companions. They covered her weak spots during jobs as well as protected the woman during her sleep. In time, Alice even grew to enjoy their monstrous company.

Entering her messy workshop, she observed her various tools of trade, acquired over the years. Poisongas tripmines, suicide drones, fleshette cannisters and of course - her own heavily customised rifle, miniaturized for her small bulk but still providing deadly firepower. Specialized ammunition for the gun lined up the shells. A partial exoskeleton which only covered the torso and right arm was carelessly lying in a corner - a grappling hook mechanism was attached to it.

Styx hummed with satisfaction at her arsenal of death. She scoffed in annoyance as her purple eyes fell upon the hated exoskeleton, as her back would hurt like a bitch after using it, but a job’s a job and the tool was useful.

Time to put some dumbasses in the ground. And if any of these worthless mutts get into my crosshair - all the better. I ain’t sharing my payday with these filthy mongrels.

***

Ethan roamed the halls of the ship, lost in a daze. These last days were pure, undiluted insanity. His wife left him for her old child-trafficking, bioweapon-producing organization. He met old allies that he never expected to see again. He fought a monster of steel and flesh that he wouldn’t have wished on his worst enemy. He was slowly but surely falling in love with a vampire that was just too damn charming for her own good. And now a horror reared its ugly head, all the way back from Dulvey, but this time - in his own innocent, three year old daughter.

Eveline. Ethan was sure he could hear her giggling coming from somewhere, sounding as if deep underwater, muted to the point of being barely audible. Looking around nervously, sweat beading on his foreheads, the man would swear that he could see her darkened silhouette lurking around corners.

I am officially going batshit crazy now.

Ethan had no fucking idea what to do. Eveline was inside Rosie; Eveline was inside his own head. If Mia was here, maybe she would’ve offered some kind of solution, she was the child-bioweapon’s handler after all. He could do nothing about the giggling girl in his head, unless he was willing to bash his own skull against the corridor’s wall until his brain was mashed into a red and gray purée. 

Since he still liked his brain where it was right now, good ol’ defiance was not gonna do the trick now. Rationalizing the situation, the man calmed himself down, somewhat. Despite everything, Eveline did no harm to either of them, so far.

Rosie even liked her, by the girl’s own account. So he himself could do… nothing about this newest development. 

Should he tell his allies about his newest... condition ? Somehow that didn’t sound like a great idea to Ethan. What would the truth achieve in this situation? He sincerely doubted that anyone could actually help. The only result he will get is that everyone would think him crazy and unreliable.

Better just keep it myself...for now.

Somehow the distraught man found himself standing right outside Bela’s cabin. As if his subconscious mind already associated the blonde woman with comfort and safety. Unfortunately, as she was still working with the Duke’s people on sifting through the captured data, nobody answered his meek knock.

Resigned, the man decided to breathe some fresh, ocean air instead and headed for the upper decks. Before he could get far from Bela’s room, however, he heard some noise coming from a door on the opposite side of the hall. The door was decorated with a small sunflower sticker. Ethan immediately knew who was the occupant.

Leaning close to the door, the sounds of beautiful music being played became apparent to the man. Despite not wanting to intrude, Winters couldn’t help but turn the knob, as the muffled notes of her violin resonated with the current mood of his soul perfectly. 

The door was unlocked, and the man opened it just slightly, allowing him to hear the music clearly, without actually letting his eyes intrude upon her visage itself. Leaning against the doorframe, the man felt his worries melt, as the soothing sounds of her violin dispelled his fears and doubts, just for a moment.

Daniela was a very talented violinist, there was no doubt about that. There was more than skill in her notes, though. The passion was clear. The sadness, too. Ethan wondered, what gnawed on the redhead’s heart today? Was she worried about her mother? Or was she grieving for Cassandra’s current condition? Perhaps even bitter at Bela for not being at their side during that battle? Or even mad at Ethan himself, for letting them get hurt?

He opened the door just a bit more to catch a glance at her. The violin produced a discordant note before the music abruptly stopped. Ethan cursed at himself for his clearly failed peeping attempt. Clearing his throat, he gently knocked on her door, before opening it fully. 

Daniela was sitting on her bed, glancing at him with narrowed eyes, her free hand slowly edging to her sickle that was lying on a nightstand. At realizing that the potential intruder was Ethan, the redhead ceased her movements and her eyes relaxed, somewhat. She still looked at him warily, as if afraid of him.

Bela’s lecture immediately came to his mind. He did not want her to be afraid of him. Raising his hands up slowly, the man spoke gently, trying not to spook her. Truth be told, he was still quite scared of her, himself. The girl’s feral, bloodcrazed expression will not be easy to forget.

“It’s just me, Daniela. Ethan. Sorry for barging on you like this, uninvited… But you play so beautifully, I couldn’t resist listening in.”

The youngest sibling’s lips, that were in a thin line before, morphed into a small smile at the genuine complement. She still was eying him with a fearful expression, however. A few beats of tense silence passed and Ethan took the time to take in her appearance. She was back in her long, colorful summer dress, vibrant yellow clashing with deep orange, just to shift into a bright red. Her small feet were laid bare upon the room’s carpet. Her face looked sad and wary.

Good job, Winters, she clearly has a nice personal moment of tranquility and you ruined it.

“Sorry, Daniela, I see that I am intruding… I’ll leave you be.”

The girl stood up at that, still clutching her violin. She spoke slowly and quietly.

“You’re not intruding, Ethan… But… Why would you want to see me again? I…” Tears were starting to glister in her soft yellow eyes. “I… almost attacked you Ethan. I could have killed you!”

The man’s heart prickled in pain as he realized: she wasn’t afraid of him, she was afraid for him! Somehow that notion was enough to dispel all of Ethan’s own fears. In this moment, he wanted nothing but to comfort this sweet girl, who’s been through so much horror…

“If I am not intruding...would you mind if I joined you for a moment, Daniela?” 

The redhead’s amber orbs widened in surprise. Clearly, she was not expecting such a response. She sat back on her bed and a few tense moments of silence passed before she bit her lip and slowly patted a spot next to her. 

Ethan nodded, walking over the bed and sitting down, holding his hands in his lap. The girl’s eyes were not leaving his own. His voice was less firm than he would’ve preferred.

"You, uh... you okay?"

It was a stupid question; Ethan already knew the answer. Still, he didn't know what to say, even when the woman shook her head in response. Daniela brought her knees to her chest and looked away as she spoke.

"I thought I could be different... from who I am." Daniela sniffed. "I thought I could be better, but that night reminded me that I'm a monster. A murderous beast."

Daniela’s voice had so much anguish and remorse, Ethan couldn’t help but inch a bit closer to the woman and gently put his arm around her shoulder, taking her into what he was hoping was a comforting embrace. He watched her face closely for any sign of discomfort from the gesture, but she just kept her pensive, sad look. Unlike Bela, she didn’t lean into his touch, but she didn’t pull from him, either. She kept talking, her voice raising in pitch and intensity as she opened herself up to him.

“Bela is so smart and caring. She kept us whole through all this mess with Miranda and now with these people, too. Cassandra can be mean...but at least she is so strong and reliable! I’m... just a useless, stupid beast. I couldn’t protect mother… I was nothing but a burden during the fight with that metal thing. I was nothing but a burden my whole life, actually! To my mother and to my sisters! And now, to you, too - you had to save my worthless life... I am just a weak, stupid, useless Daniela, no good to anyone.”

Her final sentence had nothing but sad resignation in it. Ethan’s own heart broke from hearing her cruel, self-hating words. The man held her tighter, as he spoke firmly, yet gently. He was determined to bring at least a spark of joyous light back into her eyes. The softly crying girl at his side deserved at least that much.

"No, you're not a monster, nor a stupid beast. A beast wouldn't feel remorse over what they've done. A monster would not work hard to become a better person."

The sniffling didn’t stop, but Ethan was far from done. 

“And how can you call yourself useless? Bela told me how helpful you were, all along the way. How you drove a car, allowing you to catch up to these people, something only you could’ve done, among you three. How you distracted the guards, making sure nobody would get alerted.” Ethan took a deep breath before continuing.

“And even in that fight you helped by pushing me out of the way from these bullets. Moreover, I know that you have tried your best against that metal monster. But some foes are just too powerful to best in a straight fight, that is a good lesson in itself. But, perhaps, we would all be dead now if you didn’t buy us precious time. And something tells me, you were the one who stole the key to my cell from Cassandra, two years ago. Am I right? If so, I owe my freedom and life to you, as well as Bela.”

The girl was now looking back at him, meekly. She gave a small nod at the last sentence, making Ethan smirk. The man ruffled her wild red hair, making her let out a small giggle. Daniela finally relaxed and leaned into his embrace, as he spoke next.

“And why would you ever think of yourself as a burden? Your sisters and mother love you, Red. Your mere presence brings them joy. Your cheerful antics light up even the darkest of days for them, I know that because I can see how both of your sisters look at you - with fondness and affection. You don’t need to be as strong as Cassandra or as knowledgeable as Bela, when you are just as fine as you are, as Daniela.”

The girl looked at him with wide eyes. Her pale feet touched the floor again, as she released herself from her protective ball. Ethan spoke his last piece with conviction.

“As for your...inner beast... I am sure that if we think about it together, as a team, we will be able to find a solution. I...uh… have some experience with unwanted guests myself, believe it or not.”

Daniela’s eyes lit up at that. She finally spoke, sounding...excited?

“Do you really think I can ever get rid of it!?”

Ethan’s face turned pensive as he pondered hard on that. Hers face a very complex situation, years in the making. Commenting on it lightly would do nobody justice. After a few moments of tense silence, the man let out a sigh. He spoke softly then, the redhead eating his every word up eagerly.

“In truth, I don’t know the answer to that question, Red.” Her molten-gold eyes lost their spark once again, at that. But Ethan wasn’t done. “But I am sure there is a way to help you. Even if it will stay with you forever, that doesn’t mean there is nothing to be done. Perhaps, instead of trying to get rid of it, you might have better success in trying to tame it? To control it? No matter what, it is still part of you, not a completely separate entity.”

The girl thought hard on that herself, shuffling her feet around. She spoke unsurely, as if tasting a new concept.

“Control…? I don’t know…”

The man took her dainty hand in his larger palm and spoke softly, barely above a whisper.

“It’s okay, Daniela. Even if the path forward will be challenging, remember that you are not alone. Your sisters are always at your side. “He squeezed her small hand in reassurance before saying the next part. “And… I would be more than happy to do what I can for you, myself. If you will have my help, that is.”

Daniela was looking at him with awe in her molten-gold orbs now. She squeezed his hand back and finally gave him a kind, happy smile, the same one that graced her features often before the traumatic events of that night.

“He is right, sister. Come what may, we will weather the storm together, as a family. Anything I can do to help you, I will. None of us has to be alone with our burdens… It took me far too long to learn that lesson myself.”

Both Daniela and Ethan looked at the doorway in shock, surprised to see Bela standing in it now, smiling fondly upon them both. The man felt a slight blush creeping up to his cheeks. He could only hope that the blonde woman would not be upset with him for playing a psychiatrist with her younger sister.

How long was she standing outside?

Before either of them could speak, Bela mumbled something that made Daniela shoot up to her feet, making Ethan repeat the motion, as he still held the redheaded girl in his embrace.

“Cassandra is awake.”

***

Mia nibbled on her lip as she stared at the photograph held in her hand. Sebastian insisted they make it on their first day as a ‘team’. To build up camaraderie and rapport or some such. The notion was laughable, of course, but Mia still took part in the charade. There she stood, with her mouth in a thin line as the other four on the photograph were smiling.

Mia’s eyes focused on the youngest member of her new team, standing to her left - Eli Nelson. A very bright young man, already a PhD in genetics in his late twenties. He also happened to have the kindest heart among her team, frequently pestering her about Subject A-D’s cruel containment conditions. Mia remembered how annoyed she got when she had to explain to the youth why exactly they couldn’t keep the subject sedated during the harvesting procedures. She had no idea about how or why he joined their little family here in The Connections. And now she likely never will.

Universe sure has a sense of irony…

He was the one who was taking measurements on the subject when the accident happened.

Somehow, Alcina had managed to mutate her right arm into a long, bladed appendage that had broken free of its restraints and cleaved the young man in two in an instant. The electrocuting device on the subject’s chest that activated a mere second after the violent motion was of no consolidation to Eli, as he feebly tried to stuff his intestines back where they belonged, to no avail. 

The fungal-growth suppressant was supposed to prevent exactly this kind of an inconvenience from happening.

At least nobody will bother me with all that ‘inhumane conditions’ stuff anymore.

Nikolai was quick to find the reason for this unexpected development. Despite everything, he was a brilliant scientist with deep knowledge, as well as keen intuition. Checking the subject’s medical data, he found a rare genetic abnormality - a likely hereditary blood disease that forced Alcina to drink human blood to stabilize her own unstable biology. With her supply of blood cut, she was able to overcome their initial estimation of her capability for mutation. A small adjustment to the IV’s contents made sure this kind of disaster would not happen again.

Scoffing at the photograph, Mia let it drop to the ground, turning her harsh gaze upon the subject next. Through the dark glass, she observed the giant woman for a while. Alcina’s vicious yellow eyes sparkled with newfound determination after her small ‘victory’. Dimitrescu didn’t realize that all she achieved was to make things worse for herself. Her skin got paler and paler as days went. Yet she still looked relatively healthy, which was astounding, considering how many pounds of her mutated flesh they took already. The subject’s capacity for regeneration was completely off the charts. Mia never saw anything like that before.

Still, everything had its limits and Mia suspected that Alcina was reaching hers. Nevertheless, the demand for raw mold samples remained high. Somehow, no matter what they tried, they just couldn’t synthesize the damn thing themselves. Lady Dimitrescu was their only source of the nearly-magical fungus. Either they had to slow down the harvesting procedures or risk having the subject expire before long.

Mia tried to impress that idea upon Sebastian, but the foolish man only scoffed at her in their phone conversation. The development of a viable E-001 prototype was the only thing the short-sighted executive cared about. He would tolerate no setbacks, and if they had to drain Alcina dry to achieve it, then so be it.

Winters had nothing but contempt for that disgusting neanderthal, so eager to destroy such a unique specimen just to line up his own pockets. If they slowed down, true, the project would experience a major setback. But in Mia’s eyes, the benefits far outweigh the losses. Subject A-D could be harvested for years , instead of weeks. All the possibilities...wasted.

As the chief scientist continued to observe the captive through the blackened glass, Alcina suddenly gazed right back at her, as if being able to see her from the other side. Their captive spoke, for the first time since her containment here. Her voice was hoarse, but regal.

“You watch me every day, yet you have never gathered the courage to address your own captive. Like a craven, you hide behind your dark glass. It will not protect you when my daughters get here. I will enjoy watching them tear you apart.”

Mia should’ve laughed at the feeble and empty threat. Even if Dimitrescu daughters were on the loose, what could they possibly do? How could they locate this hidden facility in the middle of nowhere? Fight through the formidable security measures? Yet she felt uneasy, nevertheless. A shudder passed through her frame. Not being able to help it, the woman folded her own arms and snuggled her limbs closer to herself, as if cold. Nikolai, who was also in the room, inspecting the readings on a terminal, was less impressed. Marching to the intercom, he boasted loudly, showing not a speck of fear. 

“I hope your little flies get here, my dear. I have seen field reports about their biology. Unique . Our overseer dismissed them as irrelevant, but to me? They are precious subjects that must end on my dissection table.”

Alcina just chuckled evilly, before noting, almost casually.

“I think I’ll ask Cassandra to take her sweet time with you , little man-thing.”

Mia couldn’t even explain the sudden surge of dread she felt rationally. She spoke to her assistant harshly, though her unsteady tone betrayed her fear.

“Nikolai! Leave Subject A-D alone! We aren’t here to have conversations with it, much less to exchange meaningless threats. Unless our employer catches Subjects B,C,D-D alive, we aren’t going to see them! Nobody unauthorized will get into this facility.”

Mia wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince with that little speech. Nikolai scoffed in obvious contempt, yet did as told and backed off from the intercom. He knew better than to break the chain of command around here. 

The woman left the observation room in a hurry. Two of her own personal guards, who were shadowing her every move, 24/7, immediately followed. Mia paid them no mind as she thought about her work. She couldn’t dismiss the sudden hate she felt for herself for how easily her mind was adjusting to the situation. It was in her nature to be absorbed into challenging mental work, no matter how heinous it was. On the first day, she had nothing but sympathy for the Romanian noblewoman and the orphan kids. Now, they were little more than curious specimens to her, as she worked.

At least Ethan and Rosie are safe in our little home… that’s all that matters.

They were making good progress on restarting E-001 production. Dimitrescu samples were ground into perfect, raw high-quality mold which was then shaped according to their designs, then mixed with additional chemicals and biotech components needed to produce the desired bioweapon implant. Mia couldn’t help but note that Alcina’s mold was more potent than the original samples they received from Miranda, all these years ago. Soon they would have enough to start the implantation stage on the captive orphans.

Notes:

Sorry for lack of Bela/Ethan in this chapter, hope you've enjoyed it, regardless :s

I did feel like Daniela deserved some love and comfort as well, and I wanted to write that scene for a while. Kudos to PotCFan101 for inspiring me :D

Hope you liked my little assassin OC, as well that Alcina/Mia scene, where we see a bit more darker look on Mrs. Winters and Lady D's defiance in the face of an inescapable situation.

Chapter 14: Recuperation

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Hearing that her beloved older sister was awake made Daniela squeal with joy. Not thinking too long or too hard, completely forgetting about the man still holding her in his gentle embrace, the goofy redhead dispersed into her swarm, making Ethan stumble back in shock as her loudly buzzing blowflies that were flesh and bone mere seconds ago fluttered away, carrying her summer dress along.

Bela giggled at the man’s baffled expression. Ethan quickly recovered his bearings and scoffed in annoyance. Feeling a solid body disperse into hundreds of flies right underneath your hands was an unusual experience, to say the least. Somehow he felt this would not be the last time that happened, either.

“Does she do this often?”

Bela just hummed and nodded, eyes sparkling in mirth. Ethan sighed in resignation and joined the blonde woman’s side. The way the woman gazed at him now made the man’s heart skip a beat. Her soft amber orbs seemingly held nothing but affection for him.

Surprising the man, she quickly but gently took his larger hand into her own dainty one. She didn’t break eye contact as she spoke, her voice and expression as serene as ever.

“Just when I think I’ve seen the extent of your kindness… you surprise me yet again, Ethan. How gentle you were towards Daniela… how caring… You gain nothing by comforting my sister, yet you are eager to do it all the same...why?”

Ethan gazed back into her depthless eyes as he answered with genuine empathy in his voice.

“Why wouldn’t I, Bells? I lose nothing by doing it, either and if I can put a smile back on her face, that’s all the reason I need. That poor girl has been through enough already.”

Bela squeezed his palm and Ethan once again marveled at how soft and warm her own hand was. How pleasant it felt on his skin. She just kept staring at him, her full lips once again testing his restraint. The man felt something at the back of his mind nudge him forward. As if some disembodied voice yelled at him, through the deep, muffled water. He couldn’t make out the words, but the meaning was clear, nevertheless. It screamed at him to act, to lean in and claim his prize. And how tempting it was to just follow along and smash his own lips against the ethereal, golden haired beauty.

Her keen amber eyes were watching him carefully, as well, as if aware of his inner turmoil. She respected him too much to make the first move, yet did nothing to dissuade the man from making it on his own. Her pink lips parted slightly, as if inviting him…

Instinctually, he wanted to do nothing more than to give in to the overwhelming desires he felt in this moment. Rationally, his mind was quick to remind him of all the years the man spent with his wife, Mia. Their joyful, carefree early days together. How much he had gone through for her, in Louisiana. How happy they were, when Rosie was born. Mia’s smiling face brought him out of his trance-like state. A small, muffled sigh of disappointment echoed across the recesses of his mind.

Shut the fuck up, Eveline.

Ethan cleared his throat and sheepishly continued his previous argument. Bela’s own yellow eyes lost a little bit of spark at that. Her parted lips let out a tiny, barely audible sigh of her own, before closing.

“Uh… as for offering to help Dani to control that inner beast of hers...well, I think I have a personal interest in it, to be honest. I am likely going to spend a considerable amount of time in her immediate proximity, after all...”

The blonde woman just giggled softly at that, before motioning with her head towards the hallway. If she was feeling any disappointment from the previous interaction , her neutral voice didn’t show it.

“That’s true. Well…I am going back to Cassandra, I’ll understand if you’d rather be somewhere else…”

Ethan just shook his head, as he mumbled out: “I told you Bells, we are all in this mess together now. As far as I am concerned she is an ally who took a grievous injury fighting our common foe. The least I can do is to thank her in person for her actions.”

Bela hummed, satisfied with that answer. Her next two words sounded playful.

“Shall we...?”

Ethan realized with a start that she still held his hand, and wasn’t planning on letting go, just yet. Despite her clear respect for the boundaries that have been established, Bela was becoming more and more possessive of the man. Winters saw no harm in this small gesture of friendship, however and just nodded and followed the woman out, towards the sickbay.

Ethan felt slight discomfort from the curious gazes that were directed their way by a couple of crewmen, but it was paid tenfold by the comfort he received from merely holding her hand like that. Like they were a couple of uni sweethearts...

As they got to Cassandra’s room, Bela finally but reluctantly let go of his hand, though not before the very-much awake brunette flashed her eyes across their entwined digits. Ethan wanted to wince at the glare she leveled against him in the next moment. Even bedridden with multiple broken bones still healing, the fiery middle child was fearsome to behold.

Daniela was gushing over her bandaged form, excitement and joy plain in her features. Ethan grinned as he saw the ditzy redhead’s feet in a pair of white hospital slippers now. Daniela was so eager to see her sister awake again, the lack of footwear simply didn’t register in her mind until she felt the cold tile floor of this sickbay.

“Oh, Cassi! I am just so glad that you’re okay! I swear I will never call you Crassandra again!”

Cassandra yellow’s eyes were burning holes in Ethan’s forehead as she responded to the redhead hoarsely, clearly still in some discomfort from the massive trauma sustained.

“You better not, you pipsqueak. Else I am gonna give you a noogie you won’t soon forget!”

Daniela giggled uncontrollably at that, even as her eyes were wet with tears of joy. The redhead rushed to embrace Cassandra, but remembered that her sister was still badly injured and restrained herself at the last moment, giving her a gentle and soft hug, instead.

Ethan hasn't seen too many interactions between Cassandra and Daniela so far, but his face surely had a dumbfounded expression at hearing that playful sisterly banter and undisguised affection. The contrast the sisters provided with their varying behavior just kept on shocking the man. Any outside observer would never be able to connect these two loving sisters with a sadistic murderer and a feral man-eater.

Naturally, the serene setting couldn’t last. Still glaring at him balefully, Cassandra addressed Bela in a clearly frustrated tone. Daniela, feeling in the way, backed off slightly. 

“I see you’re dragging your little man-thing everywhere you go now, sister. How quaint.”

Bela clearly wasn’t happy at the tone or the choice of words, but she still replied calmly.

“Ethan is not my man-thing , Cassandra. He is a trusted ally and a dear friend who has provided our family with vital aid, multiple times, despite our atrocious deeds. It would do you justice to show him a measure of respect, sister dearest.”

Resentment was clear in Cassandra’s tone now.

Respect ? For a miserable human? Surely you’re jesting, sister. He is naught but prey. Food .” The brunette curled her lips in distaste before continuing her thought. “Or, in your case, entertainment , I suppose.”

Daniela gasped at that. Her eyes widened in confusion and distress as they jumped to and fro the people in the room. She didn’t want any fight to start now… 

This was supposed to be a happy moment…

Ethan was distressed himself. He really felt like he had won some respect with Cassandra after their sparring session. Somehow the notion that she still viewed him as less than dirt hurt no less than the actual pain she inflicted upon him that day. Still, he would not just stand silent and listen to this...

Bela kept her calm expression but started to boil inside.

I promised myself that I would be patient and understanding with Cassandra...but this is crossing the line... I can’t let her take her pain out on Ethan.

Cassandra! You…”

The elder sibling was interrupted by a gentle hand on her shoulder.

The man in question didn’t expect Bela to defend him from her own sister like that. Nevertheless, even if he appreciated the notion, if Ethan ever wanted to get anywhere with Cassandra, he couldn’t hide behind Bela. The brunette herself made that clear. The man knew that the fiery middle child respected only strength. He spoke in a neutral voice, determined to prove his worth himself.

“It’s alright Bela, I can fight my own battles…”

Cassandra instantly exploded at that, interrupting and shocking Ethan. Spittle went flying everywhere as she roared in rage.

 “YOU SHUT YOUR FILTHY MOUTH, WORM!”

 Everyone was stunned into silence by her sudden outburst. Letting out a couple of deep breaths to calm down a bit, the brunette continued, her hateful yellow eyes glaring into man’s own.

“I see I have gone too easy on you in our little spar! Perhaps, I should’ve taken that disgusting man-tongue of yours! Maybe I should rectify that mistake now!”

Ethan was terrified (not that he would ever admit that to anyone) when she actually made a motion to get up from her bed, but fortunately for him, her still broken body had other plans and she promptly collapsed right back to it, hissing in pain and embarrassment.

Daniela held her small palms to her mouth, her eyes wide in horror. Ethan realized he had read the brunette completely wrong, and the issue that caused her incredibly hostile behavior was something else… The man wisely kept quiet.

“Cassandra Dimitrescu! Have you no shame!? This man you so unjustly lash out against has risked his own life to save Daniela! Is this how you repay him? By humiliating and threatening him? Just because your own crippling insecurity demands it?”

Bela’s authoritative tone left little room for argument. Every pair of eyes were on the golden-haired woman now, except Cassandra’s, who turned her head away, towards the wall. The elder sister continued, but in a softer voice now. 

“Did you think we would love you any less because you’ve been bested and someone else saved the day for once? Do you believe that Ethan would take your place in the family now? That you would be no longer needed or wanted?”

Ethan cursed himself as it took him so long to finally understand why the fierce brunette lashed out with such hatred. Her pride as the strongest Dimitrescu was wounded even more than her mauled body. Her status as the protector of the family was threatened by him. And that was something she just couldn’t abide…

Bela, now completely tranquil once again, slowly approached Cassandra’s bed and leaned down, gently turned her sister’s head towards her and placed a loving kiss on her tattooed forehead. The blonde woman cooed at her injured sibling with nothing but affection.

“My dear sister… no matter what happens, nobody could replace you in our hearts… You will always have a place at our side. You don’t need to take your pain on others to prove your strength to us.”

Ethan was shocked to see tears glistering in Cassandra’s own eyes now. He never expected to see her crying, of all people. The injured woman spoke quietly, barely audible to the man.

“What good am I, if we have to rely on a human to save us, sister? I was supposed to protect mother...to protect Daniela… and then I got my own fucking ass handed to me...”

Her words were laced with resentment, towards herself this time. The blonde sister continued, even as she ran her hand through Cassandra’s dark hair.

“It’s not a sign of weakness to ask for help from time to time, Cassandra. Even the strongest of us cannot take on the world alone... We never faced foes like the ones we are up against now. None of us could ever hope to prevail against them by ourselves. But no matter the odds, I know that we can win, if we work together, as a team. We all have our strengths and weaknesses, all we have to do is to make our play according to them.”

Ethan felt her words strongly resonating with him, as well. The man was genuinely impressed by how well Bela handled her menace of a sister. Daniela likely felt similar, as her jittery eyes jumped from one sister to another, switching from adoration for Bela to unconditional love for Cassandra. The brunette moved her head back towards the wall, Bela releasing her quickly to accommodate the motion. Cassandra spoke no further. Her older sister’s soft voice was heard once again, instead.

“We should let Cassandra rest; her body is still greatly weakened by the ordeal she went through. I wish you a swift recovery, sister. And I also wish that you would remember that no matter what happens, we would still love you.”

Daniela nodded vigorously, and spoke with passion.

“Bela is right, Cassi! Even if you’re a little mean sometimes, I am still so happy to be your sister! We will beat these evil men and save mother and we can all be happy together, once again! I just know it!”

Cassandra just scoffed and responded in a seemingly frustrated voice. Her pale lips with a small smile on them and quiet sniffing betrayed her true feelings to everyone present, though.

“Fine, fine... just leave me alone. I am tired and your annoying voice hurts my ears.”

Both sisters gave the injured woman one last fond glance and moved out of the room with measured steps. Ethan lingering just for a second longer. Somehow he felt his respect growing for the crippled Dimitrescu. The viciousness with which she grasped at her place as the protector reached deep into his own soul.

As he turned to follow the siblings, a single hoarsely-spoken word stopped him dead in his tracks.

“Wait.”

Looking back towards the brunette's bed, the man found her staring back at him, her face locked in a pensive look. She chewed on her lip, as if not sure about whether to speak out or to keep silent.

Seeing her troubled expression, something that was distinctly not a ‘Cassandra’ look, the man approached her, with little hesitance. She took the opportunity to slowly grab his forearm with her own bandaged hand. The man almost laughed at that motion. Her previously bone-crushing grip was so feeble now that he had no doubt that he would be able to effortlessly break out of it. He didn’t. A few tense moments of silence passed as she kept nibbling on her lip. Finally, she spoke, so quiet that he had to struggle to hear it.

“Daniela means the world to me… Thank you.”

She let go of his hand, and once again turned her head away. Clearly, the conversation was over. The man couldn’t help but give a small smile at this unexpected turn of events. He responded softly and respectfully, not wanting to further embarrass or antagonize her.

“You’re very welcome, Cassandra.”

She just huffed and Ethan took it as his cue to leave. Before exiting her room, he mumbled out one more sentence.

“I hope you will get better soon. I believe we will need your strength more than ever in the days to come.”

***

Bela looked at him curiously as she and Daniela waited for him outside. Neither of them commented on the hold-up. Ethan himself was quite content now. Despite the harsh words leveled against him, the man felt like he managed to finally get a proper read on all the Dimitrescu siblings. That was an important step forward for them to work as a real team, just like both Bela and Ethan wanted.

In high spirits now, the man couldn’t help but make a playful, friendly dig at the redhead.

“Cute slippers, Red.”

Daniela blushed, embarrassed and shuffled her foot around. Her voice was just as playful, though.

“The floor is cold! I’ll return them later...maybe. They are very comfortable.”

Ethan gave a chuckle at that. He had to admit that the youngest Dimitrescu was unbelievably cute herself at the moment. Being a lone child, the man found himself wondering how it would feel to have a younger sibling like her around all the time. He figured the redhead could be exasperating at times, but the sheer joy she carried around herself like a cloak was infectious. Ethan, surprising himself, realized that he wouldn’t have minded having a little sister like that himself, minus that whole man-eating feral beast thing, of course...

Ethan found himself lost in a daydream, all of a sudden. The possibilities of a bright future took over his mind. The man gave the siblings the biggest grin he ever did and spoke, in a dreamy voice.

“Perhaps, once we are all done with this mess, we could all go on a camping trip together. Just you three, your mom, me, Mia and Rosie. And we could all just enjoy beautiful nature in all of its splendor and have no worries about the future. What do you girls think?”

Daniela was clearly mesmerized by the idea, and her artistic mind quickly started on painting the mental picture. She nodded vigorously, as Bela spoke for them both.

“I think that sounds lovely, Ethan. And all we need to do to make that dream a reality is to bring back our loved ones.”

Ethan felt almost lovestruck as the beautiful blonde woman was giving him her trademark serene smile. A peculiar thought ran through his head.

How fortunate I am to catch a glimpse behind these girls' shells… Despite their monstrous origins, all of them have such beautiful, unique souls. Even Cassandra does, in her own way.

Bela amber orbs sparked with seriousness next, as she spoke.

“We should visit the bridge now. I think you both would like to know where we are headed next. The Duke found some clues.”

As the trio headed for the ship’s command center, Ethan felt unburdened and his spirit uplifted. They might be up against overwhelming odds, but the man still believed that everything would be alright, in the end. He hummed as he thought about his previous camping idea. 

“Maybe we could also invite Chris for our little camping trip, so I don’t feel that terribly outnumbered by myself.”

Bela clicked her tongue at that. After everything, she wasn’t quick to trust unfamiliar people.

“Chris?”

“Chris Redfield. He is a bit rough around the edges, but he is a good man, with a golden heart. I am sure you girls would get along just great with him. Maybe he will even agree to a friendly spar with Cassandra.”

Daniela gasped at that, almost in horror. Bela giggled at that reaction, before commenting, in a playful tone of her own.

“I see our resident glutton for punishment has similarly masochistically-inclined friends. I can’t wait to meet him, already.”

Ethan smirked, before replying, in a half-serious voice.

“I wouldn’t discount Chris that easily, actually. That man is a monster in his own right. I trained a lot with him, and I could never beat him in unarmed combat, not even close. Perhaps he could give even Cassandra a run for her money.”

Daniela looked astounded from that simple description. She quipped quietly.

“That would be a sight to see! But, I don’t think Cassi’s pride would be able to take that blow…”

Bela hummed as they reached the bridge.

“Indeed.”

As the trio entered the command center, they immediately spotted Duke’s colossal but well-groomed frame, next to a large map. Millie stood at his side, ever loyal, her hands behind her back.

The Duke was quick to welcome them, raising his massive hands in a warm greeting, as he spoke in his typical jolly voice.

“Ah, friends, thank you for joining me today. It’s a great pity that Miss Cassandra is still bedridden, but I do hope she will recover soon. A spirit as fierce as hers is not meant to be chained to a hospital bed, after all.”

Everyone agreed with that sentiment, even Ethan. Bela moved to take her spot at the huge man’s side, clearly she was in the know already. Millie was the one who spoke next, however.

“The treasure trove of data we recovered from that island facility has revealed a great deal to us, Mister Winters, Miss Daniela.”

Both of them only nodded. Everyone was listening intently, interested in what the shorter woman had to say. She cleared her throat and continued, still holding her hands behind her back.

“Unfortunately, the administrator Miss Bela... questioned was not privy to information regarding Lady Dimitrescu's plane’s exact flight plan, yet he provided us with a radar readout that clearly indicated its direction. Combined with our careful combing through the unrelated points of interests, we were able to triangulate the location of what is likely a regional HQ of The Connections, directly in the path of that plane. While it is unlikely that Lady Dimitrescu is being held right there, chances are good that the research facility we are after is somewhere nearby.”

The woman finally pointed her finger at the large geopolitical world map behind her. 

Mauritania

Somehow Ethan wasn’t surprised that the last country in the world where the concept of slavery was widely accepted also happened to host their foe’s regional HQ as well as a highly unethical R&D facility. Bela’s neutral voice didn’t let him ponder too much on that, however.

“That HQ is only ten miles away from a small port town here.” Her delicate finger pointed to the tiny town in question. “We and the armsmen will disembark by motorboats, and the Duke was gracious enough to arrange ground transportation, already. Some local mercs will also assist us in taking over that HQ, and from that, we will go directly towards the R&D facility, hopefully before the scum will have the time to evacuate.”

Ethan couldn’t help the shiver from running throughout his body from how she hissed out that term of address. Somehow, the gentle and loving sister morphed into a ruthless predator, out to hunt down those who had wronged her family. She would show no mercy, this time.

The Duke was the one who spoke next, his words somber but hopeful.

“I do truly hope that either the regional headquarters or the research facility will have some information about your own wife’s whereabouts, as well, Mister Winters.”

Ethan could only share the sentiment.

“Me too…”

Millie finished the small briefing.

“We will reach our destination in four days, and I suggest everyone prepares as best as they can. We have no solid intel about the enemy’s combat capabilities or their level of awareness about our own plans and movement. We are going in blind, and normally I would oppose an operation like this, but…”

The Duke looked at her harshly, making the small woman fall silent. He spoke himself, with an air of finality in his voice. Somehow, everyone kept forgetting that the jolly rotund man was the boss around here.

“Our armsmen are well-equipped and trained. The local mercenaries whose services I contracted are also no push-overs. Not to mention our dear passengers here, who would not stop in the pursuit of their loved ones even if armies of Hell themselves arrayed against them. I will learn what I can meanwhile, but we proceed with this plan. Hesitation or delays are unacceptable, not when we are up against a global crime syndicate with a hundred times as much resources as what we have ourselves. We can’t give them time to prepare for us. This will be all.”

They were getting close and tension was in the air after the loaded briefing. Predictably, nobody felt in the mood for small talk, and Daniela promptly left, her stomach rumbling in hunger. Bela stayed behind, talking over some issues with Millie and Ethan himself decided to go back to Rosie.

Before he could vacate the bridge, a pair of strong hands rotated him around effortlessly and a moment later he felt soft, warm lips press down on his forehead. The heavenly sensation lingered for a few moments, even as the golden-haired woman lowered the soles of her shoes back to the floor. Their eye-levels were even, as Bela stood inches from his own face, once again making the heat creep towards Ethan’s face.

“What was that for?”

Ethan’s tone was sheepish, as the gesture was so unexpected. Her amber orbs stared into his own gray eyes with undisguised affection. Her voice sounded so very lovely to Ethan’s ears.

“To show my appreciation. For everything you did for us. It will probably take some convincing for Cassandra and mother, but as far as I am concerned, you’re family already, Ethan. I will be looking forward to that camping trip.”

Before he could stammer anything out, the woman was already gone, back to Millie’s side, who herself looked shocked at the intimate gesture. Bela gave him a playful wink as he kept staring.

Ethan stood still for a few moments, before finally walking out, giving one last glance, full of affection, at the blonde woman, who returned it with one of her own eagerly.

“Family, huh?”

***

Santiago Escobar observed with folded arms as his lieutenants consulted the electronic map and tactical readouts. Walking across the cargo plane their employers so gracefully provided, the man snorted in annoyance as his harsh, cold blue eyes fell upon the planning board, with photograph of their targets affixed to it. He will personally cross them out, once the job was done.

Looking back at the men in their seats, the commander couldn’t help but give a toothy grin that promised nothing but pain to his foes. Thirty of his finest, hand-picked warriors, ready to bring the flames of purity upon the filthy mutants who had slain his brother. The paycheck was just a bonus, to him. A very welcome bonus, nevertheless. The organization doubled the reward for Dimitrescu sisters. The bug-sluts must have done something to annoy them. That thought made the towering man let out a hearty chuckle.

In truth, Santiago absolutely loathed The Connections. He was fine with taking the money from the vile bioweapon producers, but few knew that he was just biding his time, collecting evidence. Eventually, he aimed to topple them down, as well. Their kind had no place on his planet.

His most trusted lieutenant and personal advisor - Carl Schultz, took the commander out of his musings with his somewhat nasal voice.

“Nightcrawler will not be happy about this change of plans, you know that, right sir?”

The powerful warlord scoffed at that. His voice was grim but resolute.

“That coward said so himself, he only cares about the targets dying. I will make him eat these words. We move as planned. Ambush them right at that insignificant port town. Civilian casualties are acceptable. I am not sitting in that facility, with thumbs up my ass while that midget bitch is lurking around.”

The smaller man tried once more to impress the idea of cooperation on his commander, though he knew it was in vain. Santiago was a nefarious human purist and the very notion of working directly with a ‘mutant’ was deeply offensive to him. Especially after the last time they worked together.

“Perhaps, if we just coordinate our efforts with Miss Styx, we could avoid all the unpleasantness? We don’t have to work directly with her…”

The commander was less than impressed.

“That’s not happening. Unless that whore herself comes crawling before me, while offering sincere apologies and reimbursement for killing two of my men on the last job we did together, the standing orders are to shoot that cunt on sight. Dimitrescu and Winters are my prey, and if that little shit tries to intrude on my hunt, all the better. One more filthy freak wiped off the face of Earth.”

The bespectacled officer couldn’t suppress a gulp. Styx was infamous for her 98% success rate; her reputation was that of inhuman brutality and utter mercilessness, with callous disregard for collateral damage on top. Going against her directly like that was not a prospect he was looking towards. Still, defying a mountain of muscles in his face right now was something he wanted to do even less. Giving a resigned nod, the logistics officer backed down. He could only hope that their own snipers were up to the task of not only taking down the targets of their contract, but also the elusive assassin.

Notes:

Maybe I should rename this work into "Dimitrescu Daughters Psychotherapy Sessions." Hope I didn't bore you too much with it :/

Anyway, now that the pieces are in position, the next 2-3 chapters will be violence and blood fest with what I hope to be an unexpected and shocking twist. And drama, since we haven't had much of that so far. So lot's of drama. What I am not sure about, is should I write one very big chapter (that will naturally take longer to write), or keep to my usual ~5k words? Any thoughts on that are appreciated.

As always, thanks for reading and hope you've enjoyed the chapter!

Chapter 15: Calm before...

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The next two days passed without an incident or anything noteworthy, really.

Eveline was suspiciously quiet, only rarely making a quip or a barb through Rosie; Daniela was being Daniela ; Cassandra still bedridden but recovering swiftly; and Bela hard at work, assisting the Duke, occasionally gracing Ethan with far-too-short but always pleasant interactions. 

Daniela turned out to be more than decent company herself, however. Ethan was still understandably reluctant about letting the redhead interact with his daughter, to Daniela’s chagrin; yet the man found himself enjoying spending time with the youngest Dimitrescu. In addition to being a naturally entertaining personality herself, her hidden talents also included completely unexpected quirks.

Daniela had one mean poker face.

Somehow, when playing that card game, the normally energetic, even raucous redhead turned into the very picture of calm indifference that gave nothing away. Nothing she didn’t want to give away, to be precise.

Checking his hand once again, Ethan felt sweat starting to bead on his forehead. Two jacks and two 3s, a decent hand… but that’s what he thought a couple of rounds ago, and Daniela smashed him with a Full House. Looking at her now, the man could do nothing but scowl in annoyance.

The redhead lounged in her chair, one leg across another as she sipped on her chilled blood casually, utterly relaxed. Lazily inspecting her nails, she caught his desperate staring and gave him a self-assured smirk. Winters wanted to do nothing more than to call Daniela on her obvious bluff...yet he folded anyway.

Watching her revealed cards, he cursed himself for his uncharacteristic act of cowardice. She had nothing . As the redhead saw his own hand, Daniela howled in deafening laughter, slamming her dainty fist against the table, making cards fly in every direction. Ethan could only grit his teeth.

“Looks like Miss Daniela wins again.”

Tom, their impromptu dealer now, with Rosie asleep, noted with a hint of playfulness in his voice. Ethan just wanted to bury his head in the metaphorical sand. A pair of mirthful yellow orbs were suddenly inches from his own.

“Now, now! Don’t sulk, Ethan! Bela taught me how to play this game! She said I am a natural.” 

Daniela giggled, as she bopped him on the nose lightly and, without warning, dispersed into a buzzing swarm that fluttered off, just to reappear whole on the couch nearby, sighing in dramatic fashion, covering her face with a single open palm.

“Ah, will I never meet a worthy opponent? Woe is me… Woe is me!”

Ethan didn’t miss the admiring gazes Tom was shooting the theatrical redhead. The father was glad that at least someone else was able to peer beyond the girl’s monstrous origins. Before too long, interrupting his musings, the aforementioned girl was once again in the blonde’s man face, looking at him with unbridled curiosity in her wide eyes. She leaned even closer and whispered in a conspiratorial tone.

“So what are you going to gift Bela today? I won’t tell. Promise.”

That was a major ‘oh shit’ moment for Ethan. 

That’s right. She did mention she had a birthday today. With all that Eveline and Cassandra mayhem, somehow it just slipped my mind… shit.

Upon his lack of response and seeing his sheepish expression, the redhead pulled back and gasped in mock hurt. Her voice was playful as she spoke with a lithe finger pointed at his face accusingly.

“Bad boy! You forgot about Bela’s birthday! How mean!”

Ethan just ran a hand through his hair as he pondered about where he could procure an appropriate offering, in the middle of the Atlantic ocean, no less. Tom was quick to offer a solution.

“Perhaps the Duke would be able to help with that issue you seem to be having, Ethan?”

Daniela nodded vigorously, as her finger was still inches from Ethan’s face.

“That’s right mister! You better get my sister something nice! We meet at Bela’s at eight.” 

Winters didn’t even remember being invited anywhere… The tone of his voiced inquiry reflected his dubious musings.

“I’ll take I am invited then?”

The redhead got right into his personal space, their noses almost touching. 

Of course , you’re invited! What a stupid question! Don’t be late, either! It’s my big sister’s birthday, it has to be perfect! You…”

Whatever other accusation or remark she wanted to make died on her lips as her stomach rumbled loudly, making the redhead blush in embarrassment. Her mumblings were quiet and shy once again.

“Ugh... soooo hungry...”

And just like that, in a swarm of ravenous blowflies she was gone, the insects rushing towards the mess hall, no doubt to give some poor crewman a heart attack.

Ethan couldn’t help but be amazed at her perseverance for a moment. Despite everything destiny threw at her, Daniela was still so full of life and joy. Clearly, Tom shared his sentiment, if his dreamy gaze was any indication. Exchanging a handshake with the taller man, Ethan went straight to the Duke, who was in his own luxurious cabin, by Tom’s words.

Minutes later, outside the Duke’s cabin, Ethan knocked on the beautifully ornate door. A mere heartbeat later, the door creaked open and he was ushered in by the rotund merchant, as if he was expected. The huge man smiled wide upon the lone father, before speaking in his typical cheerful voice.

“Ah, Mister Winters! I was wondering when you would come to peruse my wares. Do come in!”

Of course he did expect me… 

“Hello, Duke…”

As if on cue before his customer could even announce the purpose of the visit, Duke opened a curtain Ethan hadn't noticed before, allowing access to yet another room. Peering inside, the blonde could only stare slack-jawed at all the trinkets and baubles that lined every shell in that chamber. Items of both practical use, as well as those that only had aesthetic value filled Ethan’s vision.

Entering the small reliquary, Ethan had a hard time focusing his eyes on any single thing. Books, clad in elaborate frames; statuettes of master craftsmanship; majestic jewelry, worthy to grace a queen’s neck; ornate weaponry, both bladed and modern. The man could probably spend hours in this very room, admiring the intricacies of the great many objects of value here. The man turned back towards the Duke, intending to ask for advice…

“So… what do you think…”

“That just won’t do, Mister Winters! The gift to Miss Bela will be from you, therefore you’re the one who must choose it. You will find my prices… most accommodating, for today.”

Ethan didn’t even question how this obese merchant kept reading his mind, instead, he merely returned his wondering gaze back towards the breathtaking wares.

What would Bela like? She is pretty damn smart, maybe a good book? She is also unquestionably beautiful...maybe a necklace of some kind? Then again, she already has a lot of these… Bela is so kind and caring… but she can be fierce and uncompromising, when the need arises...perhaps an ornate dagger to help protect her loved ones?

Somehow, that inner monologue about choosing a gift turned into Ethan mentally appreciating the many admirable qualities of the woman he adored. Wait, adored

Shaking off yet another unfaithful thought, the man, once again, focused on the task at hand.

Ethan spent the next fifteen minutes looking through the extensive collection of exquisite artifacts. Despite not being an appraiser, somehow he doubted that even a single one of them was a cheap knock-off.

Finally, he found exactly what he was looking for. A small figurine of a woman, likely made from silver, that reminded Ethan of the statue of Maiden of War that stood right outside Castle Dimitrescu. The statuette was of peerless craftsmanship, its posture tense in anticipation of an attack as its right arm held a heater shield. The figurine’s face was intricate enough to show a determined and resolute visage; over the head she had a circlet with a tiny red gem in it. The left hand was unarmed, but clenched into a tight fist, implying that the figure was a defender, but not an aggressor.

Ethan was astounded as the similarities between this beautiful tiny thing and Bela became apparent to him. Like it was made for her. The man didn’t think twice about paying the outrageous price Duke asked for it. With his prize in tow, Ethan went back to his own cabin, as the merchant hummed in mirth at yet another satisfied customer and a deal done. 

Spending the rest of the day before the marked occasion with Rosie, Ethan couldn’t help but think about whether Bela herself would be happy to see him at her special event. Daniela seemed to think so, but the man himself wasn’t so sure. He was still an outsider, after all.

“Evie says that you’re overthinking it, again. Bela obviously likes you. Why would she mind having you there?”

Ethan wasn’t actually sure how to respond to that. A vicious, murdering bioweapon, that apparently could actually read his mind, spoke to him through his daughter, with her kind voice, trying to dispel his likely irrational fear of being rejected by a vampire lady that kept him captive as her younger sister tortured him. Could this situation get any more insane? 

The father just nodded with a smile at his child, not showing his inner turmoil. On the other hand, perhaps he was overthinking it, after all…

***

Approaching Bela’s room at the agreed upon hour, just a couple of minutes late, the man was about to politely knock on the door, but before his fist could connect with it, something else pushed it open, just slightly. Shrugging his shoulders, Winters walked in. Closing it behind him, Ethan’s blood chilled in his veins as he turned around and beheld the atmosphere.

The moderately-sized cabin was lit only by several candles, giving it a frightening appearance. Some kind of strange, incense-like smell permeated the place. What truly shocked the man, however, was the sight at the center of the room.

All three Dimitrescu sisters were kneeling in front of what looked to be a makeshift altar, with a large portrait of Lady Alcina herself on top of it. The girls were back in their menacing black robed dresses and were muttering something quietly, in Romanian. None of them looked at him, though several blowflies fluttering around the room likely alerted them to his presence. Their hooded faces hid their exact identities from Ethan.

Somehow this otherworldly scene evoked painful, traumatic memories in Ethan. He was quick to recall the horrific events that transpired in Castle Dimitrescu, vividly. The man gulped as unwelcome thoughts raced through his head - that he was an intruder, after all; mere prey for these vampiric women to hunt down and devour. And he just stumbled into their lair, uninvited, unarmed and alone.

The deeply uncomfortable, tense moments continued as the girls proceeded with their strange ritual, not paying the man suddenly in their midst any mind. Finally, after what felt like an eternity to Ethan who kept shock-still, not saying a word or moving a muscle, the Dimitrescu siblings finished their inaudible chant and stood up, in perfect synchronicity. As they turned to face him, their piercing yellow eyes all focused on his own, brown-gray ones, almost making the man sweat. Except for their healthier looking skin and lack of bloodstains, they looked exactly the same as they did two years ago. Ethan couldn’t help but consider the possibility that the sickles and knives will be coming out next. His voice was as unsteady as were his thoughts.

Maybe coming here was a bad idea, after all…

“Hello, girls…”

Suddenly, as if some invisible switch was flicked, the heavy, almost choking atmosphere dissipated in an instant. The perfectly neutral, almost threateningly-so faces and postures of the daughters relaxed. Daniela pulled her hood back as she grinned widely and rushed to embrace him in a bone-crushing hug; Cassandra scowled in annoyance and folded her arms. Bela gave him a serene smile; her amber orbs shone with clear affection, as she took her own hood down, letting her golden locks cascade down her head freely.

The eldest sister approached him steadily, even as her redheaded sibling released him from her grasp and stepped away. The blonde woman gave him a gentle hug of her own, in which the man immediately felt safe and secure, once again. Before he could return the gesture, Bela backed off a step and just gazed at him with fondness. Ethan realized that the naturally tall woman now had a couple of inches on him, in her high-heeled shoes.

As if feeling the same and wanting to be on an even eye-level, Bela kicked off her shoes without a care and finally spoke, in her soft voice.

“I am glad you came, Ethan. I hope our display here wasn’t too startling. We couldn’t leave out mother, after all… so we did everything as she would’ve liked.”

That actually made total sense to the man. Lady Alcina probably never missed a birthday of one of her beloved daughters and the girls obviously wanted her to be present here, if not in body, then in spirit. His own face finally relaxed, he gave Bela a bashful smile.

“I admit I was a little bit surprised; but I am sure your mother would’ve loved to see you girls doing this… I bet she would be really happy once we get her back and you tell her about this yourselves....here, this is for you, by the way… Happy Birthday, Bela.”

Accepting his words with gratefulness and his wrapped gift with unmistakable curiosity in her bright eyes, the woman's deft fingers quickly went to work on the wrapper, making Ethan smirk.

Guess love for presents is universal, after all.

Ethan's heart rate noticeably increased as he saw Bela’s eyes lit up at his gift.

“It’s… beautiful! Have you purchased it from Duke? He must have charged you a fortune for this... You really didn’t have to, Ethan. Your presence would’ve been a gift enough for me…”

Bela was quick to place a kiss on his cheek that was just a bit too long and too close to his lips to call it chaste. Ethan’s heart rate increased even more. Daniela gasped in delight as Cassandra groaned in annoyance. The middle child was quite frustrated still, as her wounds were not fully healed and her movements were stiff and measured. Her voice was remarkably less hostile, this time, however. Almost approving.

“Ugh… Can’t you spare me the sight of...whatever is this you do with your man-thing?”

Daniela just giggled and poked her sister lightly with an elbow.

“Don’t be jealous, Cassi. I am sure someone will fall for you too, eventually! Especially if you act just a liiiiitle bit nicer.”

“Why, you little..!”

The short but frantic chase and cheerful laughter that followed set the mood for the rest of the evening. Upbeat, hopeful and relaxed. Cassandra lounged in an armchair while Bela and Daniela settled on a comfy sofa, with Ethan nested in between the two girls, at their insistence, which evoked mixed feelings in the man. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to feel delighted or chagrined at this awkward position, but eventually he settled on ‘comfortable’ as their warm bodies and friendly and outgoing personalities eased his own troubled mind. Despite the insanity that had engulfed every aspect of his life lately, the man felt at peace with the three sisters now. 

This felt awfully like a warm family meeting and Ethan almost regretted not bringing Rose along. Still, even if he was swiftly getting to that point, the father simply could not be one hundred percent at ease with the idea of Rose being in Cassandra or even Daniela’s immediate proximity, not yet. Not to mention his fear of Rosie starting to go all Eveline on them, exposing him to a barrage of unpleasant questions. Ethan could only hope that hiding the truth was not making him a liar and that it would not come back to bite him in the ass later.

Dismissing the thoughts, the man gratefully accepted a glass of red wine, offered to him by Bela. The girls also, all sipped on their own wine, but if the suddenly strong scent of iron in the air was any indication - theirs were spiked with blood. At this point, Ethan really didn’t mind that, especially since it likely kept his own vital fluid in his veins, where it belonged. He didn’t miss that dreamy gaze Bela leveled at his neck. Likely deciding that asking him for it now would cause an unfortunate chain-reaction with her sisters, the woman abstained, making do with the blood from the cold storage mixed with wine, instead. He found his own wine perfectly ordinary and his veins undistributed, to his unvoiced jubilation.

Ethan relaxed completely, as pleasant banter continued throughout the evening, the girls surprisingly taking much interest in his own life, both mundane and extraordinary bits of it. Bela seemed fascinated with his description of his work as the system engineer, while Daniela couldn’t help but pester him about Dulvey or Romania incidents. Even Cassandra laughed and asked questions in barely-disguised curiosity as he retold some of the less terrifying aspects of his Louisiana ‘adventure’. Naturally she was after the grisly details and his own personal ‘killcount’, which he didn’t keep, to her obvious disappointment.

Ethan, in turn, listened with great interest to their own stories. They lived long lives, and even if most of it was spent behind the walls of their sanctuary, they still had quite a few interesting experiences to tell, not all of them blood-chilling, even.

After a couple of hours like this, Daniela fell asleep right at his shoulder, snoring softly. Bela, with her cheeks tinted pink, laid her own blonde head on his other shoulder and sighed in contentment in her dulcet tone. Ethan felt a bit awkward in such a position, which only grew worse as he locked his eyes with Cassandra, who frowned back at him. Finally, the brunette stood up from her armchair and joined them on the sofa, a spot still open for her, right next to Bela. The elder sibling wasted no time in putting a hand over her younger, fierce sister’s shoulder, locking them all together.

They sat like this for a while, in perfect silence and solace. Eventually Ethan noticed that the girls were all asleep, likely tired from their long day, or in Cassandra’s case - still healing body. As much as the man wanted to stay in this comfortable position all night, he, nevertheless, carefully escaped their locked embrace, making sure not to wake anyone up, before starting to make his way back to his own cabin, to Rosie. Before he left the room, he couldn’t help but give one last loving glance at the three peacefully sleeping sisters; Daniela now cuddling up to Bela, as well. His heart soared at the sight and as he walked through the empty halls of the ship, he found himself resolved to do everything it would take to protect these girls, all three of them.

They will soon be once again in the fight for their lives, likely against overwhelming odds, in a desperate bid to save their loved ones. Nevertheless, for tonight, Ethan felt at ease, as he finally felt like he belonged somewhere, with someone, once again. 

Whatever comes next, they would face it together.

***

Mia hummed in satisfaction as the latest results came in. Two out of ten kids took to the implant. Eight rejected it and had to be put down, but that was an expected result, not far from their estimates. At least the project could move forward now and Sebastian would get off her back.

The woman left her tiny office, her guards shadowing her, as they always did. There were three of them now; apparently the facility was put on ‘yellow alert’, whatever that meant. Something was going on, but only the chief security officer was privy to conditions outside of the facility, the rest were pretty much isolated from the world. The gruff security officer reassured everyone that everything was fine and they were to continue performing their own duties. They all did as told.

Her own team was already hard at work, half of them trying to decipher which part of the DNA exactly caused positive bonds to form between the subject and the implant. Race and gender seemed to play little part in the selection process, as one of the successful recipients was a boy of Asian descent, while the second one was a Caucasian girl.

Another half of the scientists were making the necessary preparation for the second stage of E-001 development. Mia herself decided to take yet another look at the subject that truly amazed her, before returning to her less-exciting primary duties. Entering the observation room, the woman had to suppress a shiver.

Despite her best efforts to observe the Dimitrescu matriarch dispassionately, her awe-struck wide eyes betrayed her true feelings to any onlooker. Thankfully, none of the five guards in the room were looking at her face. 

The harvesting procedure took its toll on Lady Alcina, both physically and mentally. The captive’s skin, that was almost healthy-looking when she was brought in first, was now deathly pale. Her features were haggard and drained. Her body, once curvy enough to make most men and even many women to salivate with desire, was now almost bone-thin. 

Even Alcina’s piercing, baleful eyes were glowing with less intensity. The amber orbs still glared at the black one-way glass with that same look of defiance and hatred, yet now they also betrayed a new feeling the captive experienced - resignation. The subject finally embraced the fact that nobody was coming to save her. That she would die here, in this cell, alone. But even in that knowledge of her own imminent demise, the woman remained strong, unbroken. Alcina Dimitrescu was a woman that knelt to none, and even staring death in the eyes, she would not yield. 

Still, as fascinating as her incredible mental fortitude was, something else truly drew Mia’s awe. Just like the chief scientist expected, the captive’s regeneration had its limits. Two days ago, even her miraculous self-healing capacities were put to their very limit. However, instead of breaking, like Mia expected, they bent.

Mia Winters never saw anything like that in her ten years of service to this organization. Normally, most B.O.W.s would start to mutate uncontrollably after reaching that breaking point. They would lose human shape completely, turning into some abomination or another. Naturally, such wild mutations ensured that the creatures would expire soon after, in the majority of cases.

Yet, Alcina Dimitrescu showed something none of them did before. Whether consciously controlled or a mere instinct at work, her body was desperate to preserve its own shape and function. Any damage that was inflicted on it, was repaired, using its own biomass now that all the spare energy in the woman’s cells was drained dry. Every non-essential speck of fat or a pound of flesh was transmuted to further prolong the noblewoman’s life. The captive changed, adjusted... persevered.

And so, the chief scientific officer Mia Winters could do nothing but gape at her in wonderment. Lady Alcina Dimitrescu was so vastly different now from when she was brought here...yet still the same . Against all odds, the captive survived the grueling process she was subjected to. She will be allowed to rest now that they had the prototypes, before Sebastian would decide her ultimate fate. Mia was pretty sure that the captive would’ve been better off dead, and that her own unspeakably resilient body was playing a cruel joke on her, but the scientist in her was glad of this unexpected development, nevertheless. Maybe Sebastian would allow her to run a couple of her own tests on Alcina, once she had recovered a bit...

Leaving the subject alone, for now, the chief scientist departed towards the E-001 section of the facility, her security detail in tow. Despite everything, Mia Winters actually felt like she was meant to be here, after all. This was one place where the scientific miracles that would shake the very foundation of the world could happen. And she will be the one who will make them a reality, once she could get past the small-minded Sebastian and speak directly to the council. Her eyes wide at all the possibilities that played in her bright mind, the woman smirked as she entered the production wing.

Notes:

Sorry for the delay and a shortish chapter, had some intense IRL stuff that occupied some of my time :(

Also, I did mention last chapter that I wanted this one to be big and have a lot of action, but I also REALLY wanted to put this birthday and the last Alcina/Mia segments in, and they would've clashed too much with the action, so instead I just wrote a small calm before the storm chapter to accommodate them. Hope it was enjoyable and provided a little more insight! Next one will definitely be a major bloodbath, though.

God, I love writing cute Daniela. One reason I only played RE8 once so far was because I would have to kill her again, otherwise. (Also the horrible PC stuttering that capcop still couldn't be arsed to fix)

As always, feel free to ask questions or leave opinions/suggestions/theories! I greatly enjoy reading each and every one of them :)

Chapter 16: The Storm, Part I

Notes:

This will be part 1/2 of the big combat-oriented chapter. Styx will play a major PoV role in part 1.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Several motorboats cut their way through the dark waters, carrying their deadly cargo to the tiny port town. The night was not calm, with heavy, foreboding clouds all over the sky. Sandstorm was brewing in the distance. The passengers, as if in accord with the weather, were also tense and anxious. Men were holding rifles with unyielding grasps, muttering prayers and reassurances under their breaths.

On their own motorboat, Ethan and the Dimitrescu siblings shared that same apprehension. The Duke’s scout just reported in - someone was waiting for them on the outskirts of that town. Still… there was no turning back now, not when their goal was so close. They were determined to cut a path through whatever foe awaited.

Ethan drew a small measure of reassurance from Cassandra’s form. The woman was fully restored, and more than that, deadlier than ever. On the island raid, she looked like a professional hunter, a slayer of men and beasts. Now, however…

She looks like a fucking terminator… Jesus Christ. 

Wearing full body armor, to Ethan’s complete shock; armed with Barett M82 in her gloved hands; two Glock pistols with extra large clips in thigh holsters; a fucking RPG on her back; and of course, her ever present and trusty sickle and beloved knife, Cassandra was a one woman army. Ethan just couldn’t help but ask the burning question.

“How can you even carry all that stuff? And why would you even need body armor?”

The brunette looked at him with an exasperated expression, as if he was a child, asking stupid questions. Her black lips curled in distaste. 

“Bela, why is it whenever Ethan opens his silly mouth, I start to question your life choices?”

The blonde woman looked with a frown at her sister. Bela herself was armed, in addition to her usual melee weaponry, with a Glock. Like everyone else here, she was dressed in a simple desert-style military clothing that didn’t inhibit her movement whatsoever. Her golden hair was back in that long pony-tail, to not get in the way. The elder sister’s voice betrayed the anxiety she felt inside.

“I don’t know, sister. Perhaps because you’re annoyed at yourself for always trying to be a smartass instead of just answering a damn question.”

Bela was clearly on edge, so Cassandra just shrugged and did as told.

“I can carry all this stuff because I am not a pathetic and weak human. Body armor is nice because it stops more than just bullets, but also shockwaves from explosives, fire and electricity - things I am vulnerable to.” Cassandra heartily patted a solid ceramic plate as she spoke, demonstrating the point.

Daniela piped in next. She looked just like Bela, just with a red pony-tail instead.

“You forgot to mention how your swarm can’t even lift it, Cassi. You’re pretty much limited to a human form now. How sad for you!”

With a huff of indignation, the brunette responded fiercely.

“That’s not true!... Well, it is true… I suppose… but I can just discard it all in a heartbeat if I need to! It’s just a precaution...a first line of defense, that’s it.”

Ethan figured the brunette was still traumatized by the events of the island battle and were trying just a bit too hard now - she was determined not to get caught unprepared again. The man just hoped Cassandra knew how to use all that stuff. Ethan himself had the same loadout as he did on that island, however.

The final occupant of their boat was someone nobody expected to see here. Millie, the Duke’s right hand woman. Bela was throwing an occasional suspicious glance her way. The Duke’s henchwoman looked perfectly unperturbed, however. Daniela, not noticing anything particularly unusual, inquired in curiosity.

“So, why are you here Millie? You wanna fight the bad guys, too?”

“I am just here to make sure things go smoothly.”

She wasn’t even armed. What was she going to do if things didn’t go smoothly?

“For whom?”

Bela’s voice was perfectly neutral, yet her eyes were narrowed. The question itself was unexpected, however. Millie looked slightly unnerved from it.

“What do you mean, Miss Bela? For all of us, of course.”

“I see.”

That exchange sounded quite fishy to Ethan. Did Bela know something none of them did?

Regardless, as their boat arrived at the pier, everyone was quick to disembark. They were immediately greeted by the mercs hired by the Duke - Sandcastle PMC.

Somehow, Ethan expected them to be armed with AK-47s and dressed in turbans, due to the fact that they were contracted on a short notice in the middle of nowhere. Yet they were well-equipped and had a professional bearing to them. That was pretty strange in itself. The man himself had inkling that he was not seeing a bigger picture now, not entirely, at least. Something odd was definitely going on.

The merc leader, a lean but muscular man in his early thirties, hurried to greet them in his heavily accented English.

“We got the situation update. At the outskirts of town, we will likely get ambushed by hostile forces, number unknown, organization unknown, firepower unknown. What’s the plan?”

Millie, not missing a beat, answered in a surprisingly firm, authoritative tone that brooked no argument. 

“We go as planned. We can’t wait and if we circumvent their ambush, they’ll just follow us to the facility. We will take the fight they offer here. Put someone you like the least in the first car. The rest will fill in the others.” The Sandcastle commander’s eyes were wide as platters. Bela raised one delicate eyebrow at the shorter woman’s self-assured and commanding voice. Before the commander could stutter out a response, Millie held a single palm up, and continued.

“Don’t worry, this isn't a suicide mission. The Duke was ready for this kind of eventuality. We have a surprise for these fuckers.”

The air was loaded with tension as everyone got inside their lightly-armored vehicles. The sandstorm was drawing closer. Ethan sat next to Bela and couldn’t help but to notice how jittery the normally calm woman was. He gently placed a palm on her knee, which she was quick to cover with her own hand.

“First time, Bells?”

The woman, despite still nibbling on her lower lip, let out a nervous chuckle. Her vulnerable side was quite cute...

“I never did march against an army before, yes. Also, what the hell is Millie doing here? I don’t like it one bit, Ethan. I worked with her for a while now, and she never lifted anything heavier than a pencil.”

Millie herself was in a different vehicle, with the Duke’s armsmen. Cassandra, who was on the front seat this time, spoke out in a cocky but slightly shaky voice. Even the tough-as-nails middle daughter was a little bit spooked. They were riding straight into an ambush, after all, expecting some unspecified miracle to save them.

“Who cares anyway? All we have to do is slaughter these worms and find where they are holding mother. Simplicity itself.”

Daniela just kept quiet, as her eyes were closed. She was not looking forward to the bloodbath that would soon follow. Ethan could relate.

The man himself was determined to do what must be done. To do his best to recover his old family...and to defend his new one. He just hoped the Duke would do his part.

***

From her hidey-hole, Styx observed without being observed herself. The armored cars with her targets were on the move and the dirty mutts would soon pounce upon them. 

The tiny assassin was hiding on the roof of a three-story building in the middle of town, her camouflage cloak preventing her from being seen from above. Chewing her pink bubblegum, the woman watched through the scope of her heavily customized rifle, a frown on her face.

I didn’t expect that Winters guy to have so many damn guards… damn… Guess I’ll let the dogs do the first move. Ugh… imagine relying on that dumb trash. My standards must be slipping…

As the vehicle column passed her building, the little gun-for-hire smirked. Her targets would be caught right between a hammer and an anvil. As distasteful as it was to even indirectly work with the Dire Wolf mercs, the tactical benefit in this situation was obvious. The mutts would take the blunt of damage, while she will quickly pick off her targets one by one, from behind. As well as any wet dog that would get in her way, of course. No mercy for these scum.

Styx grinned wide as thoughts of the mayhem that would soon follow crossed her mind. Her beautiful pets and the nasty toys she had were all in position, to be unleashed at her command. For now, the town slept in this ungodly hour. Soon, the screams of dying would pierce the veil of night, as blood colors the streets red. Explosions would bloom and fires spread, consuming everything in their path. Tonight, she will be an artist, and this will be her canvas.

Spitting out her bubblegum, the woman closed her now almost normal-looking purple eyes and focused inwardly. Letting out several deep breaths, Alice waited until the sound of her beating heart was the only thing she could hear.

thump thump thump

 

thump thump thump thump thump thump

 

thumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthump

 

Opening her, once again, bloodshot eyes, Styx saw the world pass her by in slow motion. An hour like this would cost her a month of life. But she wouldn’t even need an hour.

***

Santiago grinned as he saw the convoy move right towards their ambush point. He could’ve crushed these second-tier Sandcastle men before they even had their rendezvous with the Duke’s people, but that would’ve just spooked and scattered the witches he was after. As long as that midget bitch didn’t interfere, this operation could be his smoothest one yet.

Now this will be one proper, text-book worthy massacre.

Giving a signal with a wave of his hand, the large man huffed in satisfaction as a missile streaked towards the first armored car, blowing it up and everyone inside in a fiery inferno. His men, hiding inside and around the blocky buildings, preemptively cleared of civilians (in a non-lethal way, he wasn’t a complete monster, after all.) opened fire upon the stuck vehicles.

Before he could celebrate his blood-less victory, a pair of tiny, unmanned helicopters soared past the urban battlefield, dropping a number of small spherical objects. He didn’t have to give an order for his stinger unit to open fire on the drones, shooting the damn things out of the air and turning them into flaming comets, descending down from Heaven towards the sinful Earth, far from the battlefield.

The damage was done, however. Every single metal orb dropped, as if guided by an intelligence, hopped from the ground and launched itself towards the nearest occupied house or an alley, spraying fleshettes doused with a potent neuroparalytic agent on its next impact with the ground.

Just like that, eight lifesigns of his men flashed red on his PDA, making the commander drop his expensive cuban cigar to the ground. The chaos that ensued allowed the remaining hostiles to vacate their embattled vehicles and disperse into the safety of buildings. His perfect ambush was ruined, as the enemy clearly had expected it. Someone tipped them off.

Snarling in rage, Santiago grabbed his battle rifle and went into the fray himself, determined to fix this mess, even as he roared orders into his headset.

***

Ethan and the Dimitrescu siblings were quick to abandon their vehicle the moment Millie roared for them to do so through the car’s radio. The merc driver of their vehicle was dead, shot right in the head. Ethan himself was only intact thanks to his own armor deflecting a bullet meant for his heart. It still broke a rib, or at least it hurt like it did. Still, the man was-combat ready. A number of rounds went through the girls at his side, but they were predictably not bothered by it too much.

Entering the nearest building, with Cassandra breaking the door down easily, the company was immediately greeted by two hostile mercenaries, their assault rifles instantly barking lead the brunette’s way. The middle sister roared in anger, as her heavy armor stopped not only the bullets, but the woman herself dead in her tracks. Crying out in embarrassment, the woman fell flat on her rear, as the kinetic energy of numerous impacts proved too much for her usually intangible form.

“Fucking armor sucks!”

Her sisters, not burdened, swarmed their way in quickly, vicious sickles finding their mark in their assailant’s unprotected necks, ending the men’s struggles swiftly and brutally.

One more mercenary was quick on his feet as he jumped down the stairs, a pin on an incendiary grenade pulled out already, aiming the deadly canister right at Bela. A single moment later, and the blonde woman would’ve become nothing but a charred husk, if not for Ethan’s quick aim with his Kel-Tec KSG shotgun. Eight metal pellets found their way towards the merc’s torso, his own body armor preventing penetration. The impacts were enough to drop the man himself on the floor, in a twisted parody of what just happened to Cassandra, but far deadlier, as the merc’s own primed canister fell right on his prone body, engulfing him in a roaring but short-lived inferno.

Ethan will never forget the screams of the man as he was burned alive by the superhot incendiary compound, nor the smell of charred flesh. But if that meant Bela would be there to give him this grateful look, it was worth it. Even if that man will haunt Ethan’s dreams for the rest of his life, it was worth it.

The second floor of this building was no longer accessible, due to the incendiary fire still burning at the stairway, but going outside was suicide. The noise of gunfire and explosions coming from the street was deafening. Heavier sniper rifle rounds were heard among the smaller automatic gunfire. It was pure mayhem.

Ethan looked at the girls, and they all seemed scared, even Cassandra. The brunette’s fierce visage was marred by grime and her yellow eyes jumped back and forth from Daniela to Bela, making sure they were both alright. Despite their numerous ‘hunts’, the sisters never actually took part in a battle of this scale, with firepower far beyond what their typical prey wielded. Their faces betrayed their distress.

Ethan had to be strong, not just for him and Mia, but for them, as well.

“It’s fine, girls! Just follow my lead, and we will all be fine! We need to stop this fire, so we don’t choke to death! Otherwise, we can just stay in this house and wait for the fighting to die down a bit. We need to keep watch on that door and that window, as well.”

Bela was quick with her wits - her blowflies searching around the premises and locating a small fire extinguisher which she hastily used to douse the burning form of the merc and the carpets underneath him. Cassandra took watch next to the door, her extraordinarily powerful rifle ready to claim its first blood. Daniela stood next to the window, making sure nobody would sneak on them that way. Ethan breathed a sigh of relief. They will all be fine.

***

Styx breathed in the devastation. Her nostrils twitched in delight. This was why she volunteered for that shit genetic enhancement program in the first place! This was life

Her nimble fingers produced another ordinary round from a large pouch on her chest. She had a lot of these pouches and they were all unmarked, almost identical. Yet she knew exactly what was where. 

Her rifle was quite unusual in its design as well. A single shot model, that required a manual reload after each round fired. Normally, something like that would take precious time to operate, but for her? An instant . Her fingers moved with utterly monstrous speed that would make any normal human observer drop their jaw to the floor in complete shock, chambering the next round in. Wielding the gun with that same unreal swiftness, the woman took a millisecond to aim at yet another covering mercenary, reaching a doorway - she didn’t care which faction he belonged to - and fired.

Six

The bullet went right between his eyes. The man never saw what ended his life. Perhaps he never even felt the pain of death. He just dropped dead, like a marionette with its strings cut. A painless death was a gift in its own right. He should be grateful.

A flash of light in the corner of Alice’s eye. Not a moment passed for a normal human as she lurched to the side, a bullet whizzing right through where she was. A Dire Wolf sniper looking for fresh prey. He didn’t realize that he was the prey. She was the hunter.

Styx glanced at the window from which the shot came. The pitiful mutt must have realized that he fucked up when he gave himself away with his scope reflecting light. A rookie mistake. He was huddling now, too afraid to show his face. But his fate was decided already. She was the harbinger of death that night and no canine trash that crossed her would walk away. 

Quickly inputting a command into her own PDA, the woman forgot about the dead man who did not know that he was dead yet, and searched for a fresh victim.

A couple of civies running for their lives, screaming. Boring.

There . Taking a mere fraction of a second to rotate her gun ninety degrees she squeezed the trigger, another round already chambered in during the previous motion. A Sandcastle mercenary, trying to carry his injured comrade into the safety of an alley. A dumbass with a new breathing hole right above his ugly, crooked nose. His corpse fell right on top of his squadmate, causing the latter to cry out in distress.

Seven

An explosion boomed to the right of Styx, right where that puppy sniper took his pathetic shot at her, courtesy of her suicide drone.

Eight

A trio of Duke’s armsmen were crossing the street, a sewer grate right in their path. Alice grinned in delight at that sight. Her nimble fingers reached into a different pouch, producing a futuristic-looking round. Not even bothering to aim, she immediately took the shot in the general direction of that pitiful band of scrubs that were about to meet their grisly ends.

Nothing happened when the strange round struck the ground next to the armsmen. They kept on their crossing, hopeful to find safety in the large warehouse-like building on the other side. As they approached the sewer grate, a pair of incredibly long tongues struck out from the darkness, constricting around the two men’s legs and bringing them down, hard . Before the third armsmen could even yelp, a terrible monster of skin and bone burst its way up from the grate, slicing him across the neck with its clawed paw, even as its tongue was still tied to one of the downed men. Another, similar monster was quick to emerge, using its razor-sharp teeth to quickly bite through the necks of the prone fighters. Not a moment later, both monstrosities disappeared the way they came from.

I can never decide if I should count these as my own… ah, what the hell

Eleven

A Dire Wolf trooper was advancing towards her position, not sticking his head out of cover. The brawny dog threw a grenade into her nest, surprising the assassin that he was even able to throw it that far and that high. She guessed he ate his veggies as a kid. Too bad the dumbass was not smart enough to cook his grenade. In a single, smooth and insanely fast motion, Styx readjusted her body in a way that allowed her free hand to grab the offending device and throw it, with unerring precision, right back at the filthy mutt that dared to bare his teeth at her. His limbs, flying in every direction, spurting blood everywhere in such beautiful bright red arcs made her own rapidly beating heart soar in joy.

Twelve - kill of the day, I think!

A whirring sound warned the assassin that someone was approaching her hidey-hole from below. An evil smirk was the only thing she did in response to the threat. A popping sound was heard next, which was immediately followed by choking and gagging noises of a male - they subsided momentarily.

Thirteen

Suddenly the world slowed down even further for the tiny assassin and once again she could hear nothing but the mad beating of her heart. Color started to drain from her vision. Blood trickled down from her ear canals, as well as her eyes, nose and mouth. It hurt . She gasped out a breath and could not take the next one.

 

Thumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthump

 

Not wasting even a moment, her hand shot to her hip pouch, producing a small syringe that she immediately impaled into her own heart. The sounds and colors quickly returned as she gasped in relief, breathing air greedily.

Not even four minutes in! This is bad… Fuck… I can’t play around with this riff-raff… Where is that dumbass Winters!?

Styx’s hyper-focused bloodshot orbs took in the whole battlefield in mere moments, searching for her prize. Dozens of corpses were identified and discarded until finally she spotted a tuft of red hair through a window of some two-storey house. The same house #6 went as she cut him down.

One of the bug-bitches had red hair! Has to be it!

Chambering another licking round in, Alice lazily shot it through the window, before screaming out loudly, in her maniacal high-pitched tone, for everyone to hear.

“COME OUT AND PLAY, ETHAN WINTERS!”

***

The sounds of carnage outside were slowly but surely dying down, as the number of active combatants inevitably decreased. A single Sandcastle ally tried to seek refuge in their little sanctuary, but was cut down by an enemy sniper, who struck him right between the eyes. Ethan dreaded to think what kind of skill it would take to land a shot like that on a moving target… What monster were they up against now?

For a couple of moments everything was peaceful inside their house, with the Dimitrescu girls giving each other hopeful glances. Suddenly a round hit the wall opposite the only window in the room. It must have been a pretty low velocity one, since it didn’t even deform from impact, nor leave a mark on the wall itself. Ethan had no time to ponder upon it though, as all three Dimitrescu girls suddenly clutched their ears with their hands, as if to protect themselves from some loud noise. The man himself heard nothing strange, beyond some inaudible girlish screaming in the distance.

“What’s wrong girls!?”

Two sisters quickly recovered, though Daniela kept hissing in pain. Bela was the one to answer, her voice unsure…

“Didn’t you hear it? Some kind of deafening, high-pitched noise...what was that?”

The man couldn’t answer that. But he had a very bad feeling about it…

Daniela finally took her palms of her ears, stepping forward a bit as she felt dizzy from the unexpected and unpleasant experience. Her booted foot stepped on some broken glass, producing that distinct cracking sound. Not a second passed until a long, pinkish tentacle-like appendage burst through the window, clamping around Daniela’s exposed neck, strangling the girl and making her horrified eyes look like they would pop out from her skull. 

Either the redhead panicked completely or the filthy thing was exuding some kind of paralytic poison, since Daniela did not disperse into her swarm form and just struggled feebly against the inhumanly strong tentacle. Cassandra rushed to her sister’s aid without missing a beat, her gear clunking loudly in the night...attracting another tentacle from the doorway, as it grabbed her around the torso. The monstrous appendage pulled hard, dragging the brunette outside, with all her gear in tow. Whatever creature this was, it had to be incredibly strong. 

Even as Ethan’s survival instincts screamed at him to stay still and make no noise, the sight of Daniela choking to death was enough to force him into violent motion. With a combat knife out, the blonde man did not hesitate to plunge it deep into the monstrous thing, his blade going right through its fleshy mass. An inhuman screech of pain followed, before the abominable appendage retracted, with the freed redhead falling to her knees; her hands shooting up to her throat as she coughed hard and breathed deep.

Seeing Ethan rush towards Daniela, Bela hurried forward to assist Cassandra, instead. The brunette, however, needed no help as she caught her bearing quickly and stabbed her own knife into the thing, producing a similar result. The monstrous owners of the tentacled extremities seemingly retreated and the group let out a collective sigh of relief.

“It’s not just the humans here, these things are definitely bioweapons!”

Before anyone could respond to Ethan’s obvious statement, the man’s own sharp ears caught a new sound. Like something with an engine was coming their way. Fast

“TAKE COVER!”

The world around the man slowed down as he grabbed Daniela’s stunned form and roughly shoved her inside a small restroom next to them. Bela immediately followed, with Ethan getting into the doorless frame to use his armored body as a shield. Cassandra jumped outside the house, instead. Not a second later a drone plummeted right inside the house, before exploding into a firestorm of hungering flames and flashing shrapnel.

Fortunately for the occupants, the small drone exploded on the opposite wall from them, winning them precious, life-saving distance from the otherwise bone-powdering shockwave.

Ethan’s hard body armor saved his organs from being utterly annihilated by steel fragments. The pain in his poor, abused legs, mutilated by shrapnel and heatwave was exquisite, however. Nevertheless, they were still attached to his body and that was a major win in Ethan’s book by this point. Giving a thumbs up to the horrified Dimitetrescu, the man collapsed, his ears ringing to the point of deafness. 

Quickly recovering herself, Bela wasted no time in spraying a first aid bottle all over his injured legs, making sure to put out all the metal spikes still embedded in them. Ethan could only thank his adrenaline from sparing him the worst of the pain the violent process undoubtedly produced.

They didn’t get to relax just yet though, as the feral growling was the only warning before a monstrosity that looked vaguely like a huge, muscular humanoid burst in right through the stone wall. It wasted no time in swinging its clawed paw at Bela’s head, clearly unimpressed with her pony-tail style haircut. The blonde vampire reacted fast, however, and ducked down at the last possible moment, even as she reached for her sickle; Daniela aiming her gun instead. But the creature, clearly aware that it lost its element of surprise was already gone. The group had a momentary respite, with Ethan finishing threatening his leg wounds and Bela looking around.

“Shit… where is Cassandra? CASSANDRA! WHERE ARE YOU!?”

The elder sister's desperate cries were met with no response, which was hardly surprising, considering how loud the gunfire outside still was.

Before she could run out in search of her missing sibling, the disgusting monsters returned. One of them burst right from the ceiling, filling the area with dust and rubble. The beast roared, as it swiped its paws at the blonde woman in quick succession, Bela dodging them all with inhuman grace and agility. Daniela and Ethan took that opportunity to unload on the creature, a pistol and a shotgun singing the song of destruction together.

The damn monster was fast though, and as the first rounds struck its side, drawing blood, it lurched down to the floor. Still, the numerous fresh wounds had a stunning effect which allowed Bela’s sickle to strike it true. Right into its malformed skull, with all of her superhuman strength behind the blow, her bladed weapon went deep into its brain. With an agonized shriek, the creature twitched for several moments, before expiring.

Not giving them time to celebrate their victory, the second creature attacked, from that hole in the restroom. Ethan gurgled as he felt a tentacle roping around his own neck, this time. The disgusting wet thing immediately started dragging him back, hard, outside the house. Daniela screeched in terror as she beheld the horror that held Ethan in its unyielding grasp now.

It was not a tentacle… It was a tongue. The redhead was quick in unloading the rest of her clip into the monstrous owner of the appendage but the beast was resilient as well, and 9mm rounds had a hard time getting through its thick skin. Shrugging off the pistol bullets, it continued its grim work at pulling its hideously long tongue back inside its toothy mouth, drool running down from its abominable maw.

Bela rushed ahead to save the man from his imminent demise from these sharp teeth, and was quick to shoot her own pistol, right into the creature's partially exposed brain. Blood and gray matter sprayed everywhere as the horrible beast finally succumbed to its numerous wounds and dropped dead, but not before it gave one last powerful lurch with its tongue, pulling Ethan out in the open, away from the safety the house provided.

A loud bang pierced the night.

Bela stood still, as her own face was sprayed with blood. His blood. The woman could only wordlessly stare at Ethan’s face, frozen in terror as he gazed right back at her, with unseeing eyes. A horrible exit wound now marred his forehead, the supersonic round going into the back of his skull, right through the brain.

no no no No NO NO NONONO! NOOOOOOOOOO!!!

Notes:

Cliffhangers are bad :/ I'll try to post part 2 ASAP.

There were not much badass Cassandra or Bela scenes in this chapter, but they will pick up the slack in the next part, trust me :)
I did want to write them as somewhat overwhelmed by being in actual warfare, which is far more intense than their typical hunter/prey interactions. Despite everything, they are not hardened warriors.

Hope you've enjoyed my assassin OC, though :)

Chapter 17: The Storm, Part II

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Cassandra growled in anger as the shockwave from the explosion that rocked the house their group hid in blasted her body away. Impacting an abandoned armored car with a solid thump, bending the metal door under her overburdened bulk, the woman wasted no time in getting back to her feet, none the worse for wear.

All this human gear was weighing her down more than she’d care to admit and she had yet to spill blood herself, even as it flowed down freely. Somehow, this was different from her practices on the range or even the great many hunts she had…Tonight she felt helpless. Frustrated. Weak.

Her reverie was interrupted as a round wheezed right through her head, momentarily stunning her. As always, her solid flesh and bone shifted before the bullet could do any real damage and the blowflies that took their place darted quickly out of the projectile’s path, before coming together and reforming, once again. The whole transformation process was far too swift and efficient to ever be considered natural.

Gosh, I really hate it when I get shot in the head. Ugh! So annoying! Let’s see how they like it!

Rotating her lean but muscular frame around, all the heavy gear worn almost weightless to the powerful woman, her keen eyes were quick to scan the surrounding area. A muzzle flash was the only thing of note she saw before a fiery projectile struck her dead-center, forcing her to take a step back. The ceramic armor plate shattered under the impact of a small, yet powerful round, but completely stopped the incendiary compound that would’ve been so deadly to her flesh. 

Aha! I knew I put that fucking thing on for a reason! Bela ain’t the only one smart in the family.

Still, the brunette realized that she was not looking forward to more of these fiery rounds finding its mark in her body and was quick to dash to an alleyway, breaking the line of sight with the barely visible sniper. 

Seeing no other way, Cassandra decided to walk around the block, instead. She could only hope that her sisters were okay. The last thing she saw of Bela and Dani was Winters covering them with his own armored body. The middle child wasn’t sure if she should’ve been annoyed or overjoyed at how selflessly that man protected her sisters. 

Walking at a brisk pace, Cassandra came into a small but open square. Still leaning against a corner of an alley, she took a moment to appreciate the scenery. Fresh corpses were strewn around; with fires burning all over the place, lighting up the night. The brunette’s nostrils twitched at the delicious aroma of so much man-blood, spilled freely and generously. The smell of burning tires and charred flesh made the sadist shudder in pleasure. A recently deceased handsome man with a Dire Wolf badge, only a couple of feet away was staring at her with unseeing eyes, the expression of pure agony frozen on his features.

Cassandra couldn’t suppress a small moan of wicked ecstasy as her senses were overwhelmed by the sights and scents of death and misery. The brunette’s free hand inched towards her nether regions, without a conscious thought.

Whatever the mad woman wanted to do was put on hold as she saw a curious scene unfold. The leader of Sandcastle mercs, a man Cassandra found to be easy on her eyes, was dragged along by two Dire Wolves. He was beaten and bruised and Cassandra lips curled in distaste at the pathetic weakling. She scoffed at herself for finding the pitiful thing moderately attractive previously. Still, he was an ally and she would provide assistance, begrudgingly. Bela expected no less from her. 

Before she could do as much, a large, exceptionally powerful-built man in a red beret appeared from another alleyway and stomped right up to the prisoner. With no hesitation whatsoever, the brute executed the Sandcastle commander in cold blood, with a single shot to the temple from his sidearm. 

The brunette stalker couldn’t help but wonder how long would this beast of a man last with her, until he would beg for the sweet release of death. That was a leader, a fact made obvious by a pair of guards that followed him; an enemy commander.

Cassandra would never admit it out loud and anyone who would dare to imply it would be treated to her fist, if not a knife - but before, during that ambush on their convoy, she felt uncertain and even scared. She was completely out of her depth in a violent warzone where a random explosion or a gout of flame could reduce her to a smear on the ground. But now… this was a familiar situation to her. The brunette’s normal confidence returned with a vengeance and Cassandra knew exactly what she wanted to do right now.

Marching up right towards the middle of the square, an arrogant smirk upon her dirtied but still fair features, Cassandra bellowed out a challenge, even as five barrels of guns quickly turned to point her way. In return, she pointed a lone index finger at her newest nemesis, as her rifle was held over shoulder, casually. She was the very picture of calm indifference.

“You there, human! Fight me.” 

The brute of a man her finger pointed to watched her with hatred plain in his cold blue eyes. Santiago Escobar’s voice was as gruff as she expected it to be. Cassandra couldn’t suppress a shiver of anticipation that ran throughout her body at his tone, so very familiar to her. A defiant fool to be broken.

“And you must be the Dimitresqua bitch that killed Paulo. I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

Outwardly, Cassandra frowned at the improper pronunciation of her family name. Her own tone was completely unperturbed even as the men kept aiming their guns at her. Inside, she was shaking with exhilaration. 

“Who? I don’t usually ask my prey their names, sorry. I am sure his death was delightful, however. ”

The man exploded in rage at that. The middle daughter cursed herself once her fingers betrayed her once again, as they started that uncontrollable twitching she worked so hard to get rid of. She so badly wanted to appear cool and collected.

“My brother, you daft whore! I’ll make you pay for that! A hundred grand to whoever brings me that cunt’s head!”

Not a moment passed before a barrage of gunfire rained down upon her.  Cassandra just grinned in mirth as she sprinted into cover behind a large truck, the few rounds that struck her doing little harm. Even burdened by her gear, she was but a blur to the humans. She taunted playfully, even as she primed her enormous Barrett rifle.

“I’ve killed a lot of brothers and sons and fathers and husbands. What makes yours special? Just one more insignificant worm squished, if you ask me.”

“You’re DEAD, you hear me!? I’ll fucking end, you bitch!”

As the mercs reloaded and the lull in gunfire became obvious, Cassandra, cackling madly, leaped out of her cover, aiming her deadly rifle with a practiced ease and inhuman swiftness. In a feat of incredible marksmanship, a single .50 BMG round struck one of the Dire Wolves right in the neck, tearing his head off completely, to the sadistic brunette’s wicked delight. 

Cassandra Precision Dimitrescu, BITCH!

As the headless corpse fell down, a fountain of blood spurting from its stump of a neck; another mercenary primed an incendiary grenade, but Cassandra saw the motion plainly with her sharp yellow eyes.

The middle child did not miss a beat in ascending to the skies as her swarm left her damaged heavy armor behind, as well as the cumbersome rifle. Cassandra’s torso, together with arms and head coalesced whole as the rest of her swarm carried her above the roaring inferno burning right where she was, mere moments ago. Like a Spectre of War, the monstrous woman hovered over the battlefield, her nimble fingers quickly grabbing her dual pistols, offered to her by the buzzing blowflies. 

She opened fire gleefully, laughing in joy even as her enemies finally realized that they had bitten more than they could chew. The mercs gazed with unbridled horror at the floating upper body of the devilish Dimitrescu, the vicious insect swarm akin to a halo of darkness around her; merciless, cruel laughter reaching down deep into their hearts, as her bullets tore into their flesh.

“HA HA HA! Bow down before your queen, BITCHES!”

The return fire passed through her intangible shape even as she scored a number of hits herself. One mercenary fell over, dead before he hit the ground, a 9mm round making a neat little hole right in his temple, ruining his skull-motif bandana. Another cried out in pain, as numerous less-lethal shots peppered his frame. With blood gushing out of his legs and arms, he was out of the fight and would likely bleed out in minutes. The final little mouse scurried behind cover, cursing her with shaky breath: “Fuckin' monster!”

Not caring of the fact that she wasn’t hitting anyone anymore, she kept firing until her pistols ran dry. Discarding them without a care in the world, Cassandra focused on her next target that was foolish enough to present itself, cackling all the while.

A Humvee vehicle drove roughly into the square, the machine gunner on top of it opening fire immediately; Cassandra’s monstrous form weaved around, not making her an easy target. Suppressing a hiss of pain as her swarm was rapidly losing members the woman giggled in sadistic mirth at the chance to test her newest toy, instead.

Even as Cassandra kept dodging the barrage, her hands were quick to grab an RPG launcher that was still attached to her back. Taking a moment to make that single-shot weapon count, the brunette wraith held her breath as the rocket-propelled grenade streaked towards the vehicle. The armored car, exploding in a fireball made Dimitrescu’s eyes open wide in joy and her mad cackling reached even higher pitch. 

Discarding the now useless launcher, the woman fluttered towards the final standing merc, who was firing at her from behind a short stone wall with panicked eyes and cries of distress on his sweaty lips. Coalescing fully right above him, at around third-floor level, the monstrous woman used the momentum of her sudden fall as well as her inhumanly powerful leg muscles to deliver a bone-shattering kick that snapped his neck with a loud crunch.

Standing up gracefully, Cassandra dramatically cracked her fingers together as she grinned at the frowning form of the merc leader, who observed the devastation she just caused with folded arms, not taking part in the fight himself. She almost felt like giving a theatrical bow, like an actor would after a majestic performance, to a thunderous applause of the grateful audience.

“Worthless! I see I have to do everything myself, again.”

The man’s gruff voice was resolute as his battle rifle roared out high-caliber, incendiary rounds, making brunette’s eyes grow wide in fear once again, her previous mirth quickly suppressed by one phobia she had. She didn’t like fire and she had nothing to protect herself from it now.

Cassandra weaved and dodged, knowing perfectly well that her body was weak to military-grade incendiary compound. Avoiding most of the projectiles behind some wall, the brunette still hissed in pain as a single graze to her forearm sent spikes of unbearably agony throughout her body. Thankfully, the flames didn’t take.

Growling in rage, the woman rushed Santiago the moment he had to reload. With yet another extraordinarily powerful kick, she knocked the deadly weapon far away from him. 

The large man didn’t miss a beat as a shock baton whooshed inches from her face, deadly electricity sparkling from it. Licking her black lips, the woman taunted, huskily, even as she dodged every attack, with inhuman agility. This was a fight she could take and she knew it.

“I think I finally remember your poor brother Paulo. Such a shame what happened to him. I think he was crying for you as he died! Please, save me, big bro!

Cassandra’s mocking tone enraged the man even further, with spittle flying everywhere as he roared and pressed his assault. Even the unbelievably fast brunette Dimitrescu had trouble keeping up now. Cassandra hated to admit that this human was good. Better than his shitty brother. Perhaps too good even, as she started to sweat from the exertion of keeping that deadly baton away from herself.

However, one major advantage she held in that little duel of theirs was that her mind was crystal clear as his own was clearly clouded by rage and hatred, courtesy of her ceaseless mockery and taunting, as well as his own short temper.

It was only a matter of time until he made a mistake and provided an opening she needed. With an open-palmed strike of unbelievable power against his temple, Cassandra stunned the man momentarily, allowing her knife that found its way into her other hand to pierce into the man’s right wrist.

To Cassandra’s own shock, instead of letting go of his deadly weapon, he jabbed it hard, right in her stomach. As God only knows how many volts of electricity went through her unprotected flesh, she spasmed and twitched as he kicked her body away, making it tumble in a heap. 

The vicious man was quick to approach her downed form, stomping hard on her knife-wielding hand, making the bladed weapon drop to the ground. Picking up the dagger, the man admired the ornate weapon that still had dried blood of his brother on it. Throwing the blade far away, Santiago started edging his hand towards the incendiary grenade at his belt next, eager to end this vampiric menace. The man spat right on her face, as he hissed out with clear menace.

“Let’s see how tough you are without your weapons, you little bitch!”

Cassandra, recovering from the incapacitating effect of the shock baton, just stared at him in bafflement and disgust. Wiping off the vile spittle with her gloved hand, the brunette quipped with disbelief at the man’s stupidity.

“You think you’ve disarmed me of my weapons? Ha… Foolish man-thing… I am the weapon!”

Not letting the dumb brute process her words, Cassandra fully dispersed into her swarm form, but this time, she did not disengage. Her ravenous, angrily buzzing blowflies assaulted the commander from every angle, biting and burrowing themselves into his skin, his eyes; a trickle of them flying in through the ears and the nose to wreak havoc on his innards.

Santiago screamed out in pain as hundreds of filthy insects tore into his flesh, but that only allowed even more of them to pour inside of him, imperiling his organs as well.

Swinging his arms around, the man desperately tried to get them off, but his every effort was in vain as he was slowly but steadily eaten alive. Realizing that this was not a foe he could ever hope to beat and this was not a fight he would walk away from, his hand pulled the pin on his grenade, determined to at least take his killer to Hell with him.

The desperate motion was not lost on Cassandra, however, as a single keen-eyed insect saw it clearly, even as the rest of her swarm devoured the foolish brute. As if on command, her every single blowfly sped away from the doomed man, pouring out of his mouth and bursting from his skin. Mere seconds later the canister erupted into a roaring inferno that consumed everything within range.

As the panting brunette reassembled herself some distance away, she became keenly aware that more than a few of her flies perished along with the brute, not to mention the numerous insects lost to all the gunfire she took before. She felt weak and lightheaded… Sitting down on the ground, Cassandra, eyes hazy, dizzily mumbled to nobody in particular, as she was the last person alive on that bloodstained square. 

“I’ll just take a little break, I think… Just five more minutes, mom...Ugh.”

She promptly lost consciousness. 

***

Bela briefly wondered if that was how Daniela felt when her inner beast took over. To see naught but red and experience nothing but the burning desire to tear your foe apart, limb from limb. To obliterate them so utterly that nothing would be left of them, not even a bloody smear on the ground, nor a memory in the wind.

The blonde woman laid the body of Ethan, that she caught mere moments ago, gently upon the floor. Daniela was quick to scurry over, gushing over it and spraying the horrible wound with a first aid spray. Bela knew how useless that was. No human could survive a wound like that, not even Ethan, with his impressive regeneration. He was dead. Bela saw it in his frozen eyes.

Unheeding the danger to herself, the eldest Dimitrescu sibling marched out to confront the person who took Ethan from her. Cold flames of rage that could only be extinguished by her foe’s demise ignited in the daughter’s heart. She would not rest until she brings that person to justice.

The sniper hid well, but Bela’s keen eyes always had remarkable attention to detail. Cold fury that burned within only magnified that quality, allowing her to spot a tiny, camouflaged form, perched on a roof of a three-storey building, some distance from her.

Bela’s normally beautiful and serene visage twisted into a hateful sneer of such intensity it would’ve put fear even into even the bravest mortal soul that dared to gaze upon it now. A moment later and the woman became a swarm of angrily buzzing flies, heading straight towards the sniper’s nest.

An incendiary round headed her way, but the elder Dimitrescu daughter was expecting it. Her swarm was spread thin and the fire that ignited only claimed four of her blowflies. Her brown shirt, struck dead-center, was ruined, however, and the insects discarded the burning article of clothing with no regard, letting it fall to the ground. Vengeance took precedence over modesty.

What came next was less expected… the assassin threw a large metallic orb her way, which quickly opened up to launch a wide, electrified net. At this distance it would’ve been impossible to divert the whole swarm away from it in time. For Daniela or even Cassandra, this would’ve been a dangerous threat.

Fortunately for her, Bela’s proficiency with her hive-minded insects was second to none amongst the Dimitrescu daughters. Almost every single insect made it through the deadly obstacle, either flying around it or right through - only a dozen touching the electrified wires of the net and suffering the lethal electrocution.

Leaving the obstacle behind, she was finally upon the tiny figure of the assassin and Bela’s form became whole once more, her hand swinging the sickle even before her feet touched the roof. The attack, executed with avenging wrath, was lighting-fast. No normal human would’ve been able to dodge it. 

The assassin Styx was no normal human. The movement she performed to avoid the bladed weapon could only be described as a flash. Winning some distance away from the blonde avenger, the tiny freak smirked as she took in Bela’s shirtless form, her bloodshot eyes lingering on the vampire’s simple black bra and the assets held within.

“Damn... if I wasn’t paid to kill you, I’d ask you on a date! Then again, you did kill my pets, so it's kinda personal now!”

Bela didn’t respond, her mind was focused only on one thing - to dismember this hideous, murderous bitch. She rushed in forward, as fast as she ever was in her life, no, faster than ever, as her rage fueled her movements. She swung her sickle with grace and swiftness that was completely inhuman, her dagger soon joining the onslaught.

The barrage of lightning-fast slashes and stabs that would have left any average opponent in pieces three times over already didn’t even put a scratch on that ghostly woman. In fact, Bela felt like she wasn’t even close to putting a scratch on that smirking, perverted bitch who was ogling her chest even as she dodged yet another slash.

The elder Dimitrescu always knew that they were faster than humans by default, thanks to their mold-rich blood that energized their muscles. Yet this little woman was in a whole different league… Her movements were impossibly fast. And not just muscle speed, either. 

Her reflexes were just as sharp and the tiny assassin read Bela’s own movements perfectly the very moment the blonde initiated them. There was simply no possibility of landing a hit like this. The elder daughter pulled back as her bright mind pondered the next move. Styx took the opportunity to gloat in her childish, high-pitched voice that grated on Bela’s ears, making the taller woman grit her teeth in frustration.

I’ll shut this bitch up yet, somehow…

“You look angry, gorgeous. Don’t tell me you and that dumbass Winters were a thing?” Seeing Bela’s features harden from that remark, the little bitch’s eyes widened in mirth as she realized that she had struck gold.

“Oh, you were! Damn, I usually charge extra for fixing unresolved sexual tension!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP WHORE!

Bela, enraged like never before, grabbed her pistol and unloaded the whole clip, her finger pulling the trigger again and again, in rapid succession. Styx just laughed as she leaped sideways and let herself fall down the roof, not a single round striking her. Her mocking voice came from below next.

“That’s rich, coming from someone flaunting her rack around! We ain’t on a beach, sunshine!”

This is all just a game to her! I will butcher that bitch even if that’s the last thing I do! I swear it on Ethan's memory!

Slamming a fresh clip in, the blonde vampire rushed to the edge, hoping to see that little bitch laying flat on the ground, with a few broken bones. Instead, Styx surprised her by jumping right back in, using a grappling hook of some kind to swing herself around, her booted feet hitting Bela right in the face, knocking her prone.

“Here, my present to celebrate your newfound status as a single woman!”

Styx dropped a small canister with crossed bones and a skull right next to Bela, before she used her grappling hook on another roof to rapidly escape the poison gas cloud that rushed from the grenade.

The only thing that saved Bela from the toxic and undoubtedly deadly substance was her own inhuman reaction and quick thinking. Seeing the symbol the woman immediately exhaled and held her breath, praying that this small measure would protect her.

But the deadly assassin wasn’t done, just yet. The blonde Dimitrescu heard that same whirring noise that preceded the explosive attack on the house, earlier. She knew what was coming next. Not wasting a single precious moment, Bela, still prone, leaped over the edge and jumped down. A moment later, the whole roof turned into a roaring blaze as the suicide drone struck it.

As the elder sibling's feet touched the solid ground once again, her swarm slowing her down enough that a fall from the 4th floor was barely an inconvenience, she heard the annoying childish voice once again.

“Jesus Christ, still alive? You’re one tough bitch, I’ll grant you that. I bet that Ethan guy would’ve loved to have his way with you, too bad he is dead!”

Bela looked up to see that white-haired midget smirking down on her. The blonde woman wanted to scream in frustration and hatred. What she wouldn’t give to wipe that disgusting sneer off… yet her own powers were clearly insufficient for that task. Suddenly, that arrogant, self-assured leer was replaced by a pained, choking grimace, almost making Bela believe in divine intervention.

The assassin looked like she was about to just fall over and die with no outside assistance, with blood coming from her eyes, nose and mouth, some of it trickling down even from ears. Bela wasn’t above taking a cheap shot at this point and quickly took aim at the assassin, even as Styx jabbed a small syringe right into her own heart.

The elder daughter cursed as the assassin collapsed out of her line of sight the very moment her finger squeezed the trigger. Still, her sharp mind learned a lesson from this moment. Whatever was in that syringe, the tiny woman needed it, badly . Bela’s cold rage did nothing to impair her mental acuity.

Perhaps this is where her utterly unbelievable speed comes from? No… Why would she be in such pain from not having a dose then? Maybe it's some kind of stabilizing agent? Plausible. It’s a long shot but I could try to outlast this dose and prevent the next injection… I can’t beat this bitch otherwise… I hope at least Cassandra is alright… Would’ve been nice to have her at my side now...

Bela willed a dozen of her most agile blowflies to life as the plan was hatched in her bright head. Her tiny insects dispersed, unnoticed. The blonde woman attempted to use the assassin’s talkative nature against her to win some time, next. The hatred in her voice was genuine, as was the intent in them.

“You little bitch. I’ll make you pay for what you did.”

The comeback, full of indignation, was instantaneous.

Oh please. Look at that fucking Mother Teresa down there. What I did? Maybe you should read our file on your own dumbass family. What did it say...let me recall… Ah yes: ‘Estimated number of victims between 1950 to 2020: over nine hundred.’ Huh.”

The assassin was standing upright once again, her long rifle already aimed at Bela. The tall woman knew she wouldn’t last long unless she got into melee, where that rifle was too cumbersome to use. Using her swarm form, she rushed to the roof where the killer-for-hire stood. Gunfire and accusations were hurled at Bela’s swarm on her way up.

“Honestly, you probably killed more people than I did, lady, and that’s literally my fucking job. Really, I am just an avatar of Karma, finally catching up to you.”

As Bela coalesced on the roof, she hissed in pain as the fiery rounds claimed several dozen of her flies on the way. The little woman’s piercing words struck painfully close to home, as well.

If she is the universe’s karmic hand, I’ll just tear it off and smack it across the destiny’s fucking face. Goddamn whore talking about karma after killing Ethan… That man never deserved any of the shit that happened to him.

Once again, a bloodless melee ensued, as Bela swung her blades around in vicious arcs, with skill and grace that would befuddle most opponents but today it just wasn’t enough . Styx simply dodged every single attack, not returning a single blow as her own melee skills were apparently non-existent; she relied on her gadgets and rifle to do the job for her, instead. 

Apparently getting tired of avoiding the sharp gardening tool, the assassin dropped a smoke bomb; the distinct sound of the grappling hook making it clear that she repositioned once again. Bela could only let out a guttural roar of impotent rage at this situation. She never wanted to tear someone limb-from-limb with her bare hands as much as she did tonight.

Is this how humans who stumbled into our castle felt when they ran into us with their pistols or shotguns? Trying so hard but ultimately incapable of wounding us?

Goddamn it all...

The moment smoke cleared Bela’s sharp amber orbs searched around for her foe. As she spotted her tiny form, and her menacing smirk, the blonde woman wasted no time in lurching to the side as yet another deadly round was aimed right at her head. Only her inhuman reflexes saved her from what turned out to be a potent acid round, now eating through her right shoulder instead of her brain. Bela couldn’t help but scream out in pain, her anguished shriek heard far and wide as the potent acid ate its way right to her bone.

***

Daniela was almost catatonic as she cuddled the unresponsive body of Ethan Winters in her arms. Violent sobs wracked her body as she felt him growing colder and colder.

She refused to accept it all. The universe couldn’t be so cruel to have them run into this kind and loving man, just to take him away so soon after. Ethan embraced the three sisters, when so many others viewed them as nothing but monsters to be put down.

And he made the best of them to come out. Bela was finally opening up to the world. Even Cassandra started to mellow out. Daniela herself was just so happy to be in his comforting and caring presence. He made her believe that one day she could be better than she was. That’s all she ever wanted.

The universe can go to hell! I won’t accept this, I won’t!”

The redhead quickly brought their last first aid spray out and generously poured it all over his wound, which was almost closed already from the first bottle she immediately applied. It didn’t do much for the man…

Daniela’s voice, fighting to be heard through the waterfall of tears was as broken as her soul.

“Just wake up, Ethan! Think of all the mischief we could get into! You promised to help me control myself! How happy Bela will be to see you again! Even Cassie would love to invite you to a hunt or two, I know it! What about that camping trip you wanted us to come to? Please...just wake up... brother!”

The man was unresponsive.  He was deathly cold to her touch, almost painfully so.

Suddenly, a familiar cry of pain pierced the cacophony of the violent night.

Bela is in trouble!

Hating the idea of leaving Ethan just lying here, the redhead did so anyway, gently laying his still body on the floor, before rushing out to aid her older sister, likely fighting the person who did this. Daniela herself felt hatred and bile rising up from inside her. She will make that man or woman share her pain.

Outside, close to where Bela’s scream came from, Daniela turned a corner and her own dark blood chilled in her veins. 

On a roof of a small building above, her older sister was badly wounded as she clutched at a shoulder, while hissing in obvious agony. The pain was so great the elder daughter didn’t even react to their enemy aiming a gun, right at her unmoving head, this time.

World itself froze for Daniela, as she saw that she was too far away to get at that tiny woman that hurt Ethan and who was imperiling Bela now. The white-haired assassin took her sweet time, clearly enjoying the moment. Her lithe finger played around with the gun’s trigger, not pressing it just yet. The hideous, sadistic sneer on her face would’ve given even Cassandra a run for her money in its cruelty.

There was only one thing the redhead could do. Taking out her own pistol in a single, lighting-fast motion, the youngest sister took aim. She only had one shot before this killer would end Bela. Daniela could barely hit the broad side of a barn before. She had to score a hit now. She had to. 

Just like Cassandra and then Ethan taught her, she let out half a breath as she squeezed the trigger on her pistol, a millisecond before the assassin herself repeated the motion, intending to seal Bela’s fate.

Daniela’s bullet missed Styx.

It hit her rifle, instead, thrusting the weapon to the side, disrupting the assassin’s aim and making the bullet meant for Bela’s head go wide off the mark.

Styx did not waste a moment to address the newest threat, rotating to face Daniela in a heartbeat, making the redhead gasp in shock at the sheer speed of the assassin’s motion. 

Nevertheless, the youngest daughter’s features hardened in her own hot, boiling rage. She was done being a helpless little girl who needed saving. Just because she avoided resorting to violence lately didn’t mean she wasn’t good at it.

Daniela was good at inflicting death and misery, a quality that belied her kind nature and pleasant looks. The Beast that was lurking right on the edge of her consciousness was let in voluntarily, today. Urged in, even. For once, the two sides of her had a common goal. Mutilation.

Redhead’s normally pleasant and even cute features were twisted into a raging grimace now that she, partially transformed and ignoring the painful sting of small acid rounds devastating her flies, swarmed up to the roof occupied by Styx. As soon as her once again solid feet touched the stone, Daniela let out a deafening, ear-piercing, banshee-like screech that actually made the tiny assassin hold her hands over her ears for a moment, with several windows shattering in the background.

“DIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!”

Not letting the tiny woman recover, the youngest Dimitrescu unleashed a barrage of her own blows, a sickle in one hand, a buttstock of a pistol in another as a secondary, impromptu melee weaponry.

Daniela’s eyes were glinting with decades-old insanity as her erratic strikes with no fitness or even skill in them made Styx’s own bloodshot eyes widen in shock. The crazed redhead’s madness-fueled slashes had no pattern to them, no movements to read. All they held were raw, primal savagery. Their relentless onslaught, as well as the incredible speed of their delivery forced even the normally untouchable assassin on the defensive.

While Bela’s surgical, precise strikes couldn’t ever hope to best Styx’s formidable defense, the tiny assassin found herself starting to sweat from the sheer intensity of the ceaseless barrage of blows she was subjected to now. Dodging the brutal pistol slam, Styx just barely got out of the sickle’s swooshing slice, aimed right at her forehead. Something stung . A trickle of blood went down her brow, partially obstructing her right eye. The white-haired woman couldn’t keep the gasp of shock from leaving her wide open, panting mouth.

Impossible! This can’t be happening… I can’t possibly lose, can’t I?

Before panic at the unexpected power of her newest adversary could set in, Styx noticed that the redhead’s body started slowing down, as the feral Dimitrescu was panting hard herself. Clearly, Daniela's unbelievable burst of speed and strength was not something she could sustain for long. All Styx had to do was to bid for time and the crazy girl would run herself ragged soon enough.

Smirking, the assassin used her grappling hook to disengage once again, this time going down, towards the dark alleyway. Styx used the opportunity to check for the blonde bombshell and hummed in satisfaction as the sexy bug-bitch was where she had left her, now kneeling and still clutching her shoulder, clearly out of the fight for now. Bela’s vicious yellow eyes followed her every move, however, making the tiny assassin slightly unnerved.

Daniela was right at the pale woman’s heels, unheeding of any danger, knowing only rage and hatred. She struck at her again and again, even as the redhead felt the strength slowly but surely leaving her body. Styx, in her turn, did not stay in place and ran around the alleys and scaled rooftops instead; tiring the youngest daughter out from the cat and mouse chase the assassin imposed. 

Panting heavily, Daniela, who had slowed down enough to lose track of Styx for a couple of moments, turned yet another alley corner, growling in rage like a feral animal. The frenzied redhead didn’t notice a small, hastily set-up tripwire.

The sparks of deadly electricity that run throughout her lithe body upon the next step made her convulse in spasms, before tumbling in a smoking heap, completely exhausted and broken.

Styx’s mocking laughter was the last thing the bestial girl wanted to hear right now. All she wanted was the assassin’s blood and flesh, ALL OF IT.

“Crazy bitch… You marred my perfect face! Let me help out with your own ugly mug then; a touch of flesh-eater acid would go well with your carrot top, I think.”

Styx loaded in another round but before she could carry out her threat, a couple of 9mm bullets impacting around the petite woman forced her into cover. 

Bela still knelt on that same roof, her shoulder in a horrifying open wound of melted skin and flesh. She fired her pistol with her left hand, inaccurate but effective at distracting. Her yellow eyes were glowing with determination.

Styx, from her cover, wanted to yell something vaguely insulting or perverted, as the blonde’s shapely hourglass figure still excited her, yet all she could gasp out was a blob of her own blood. As colors and sounds started to fade once again, she inched her hand for a new injection, hopefully her last one today. Something unexpected happened next.

As she grabbed a fresh syringe, a dozen blowflies immediately came all over her tiny hand, yanking the injector out and carrying it off, somehow. Even though her grip was sloppy and feeble, sapped of strength, the notion that a bunch of insects could overpower it was laughable... or it would have been, if that just didn’t actually happen. 

The tiny assassin was completely flabbergasted at this most shocking turn of events. The surprise turned to horror quickly, however, as upon grabbing the next injector and about to stab it into her heart, the woman felt her frail wrist bone break as a towering form, suddenly looming over her, gripped it with inhuman strength. The life-saving syringe fell to the ground.

Bela was upon her and this time, Styx could do nothing but stare up into the narrowed, merciless orbs of the woman she wronged with her own, suddenly terror-filled bloodshot eyes.

For once in her short but perilous life, Alice Grant was truly afraid.

***

Ethan opened his eyes slowly and found himself in an unfamiliar place. Glancing around, all he saw was a flat, endless expanse of low-hanging dark gray mist, as far as an eye could see.

Looking closer, he was horrified to spot hideously fleshy ground, interlaced with some kind of black moldy substance, below the fog. The ‘sky’ above was dark and cloudy, with an occasional spark of lightning running through it horizontally. There was no sound of thunder to accompany it. The air felt heavy, almost oppressively so.

What happened? Where was he? How did he get here? 

This was a place of darkness and no source of light was visible anywhere, yet Ethan saw it all clearly, regardless. The only thing that broke the uniformity of it all was a spot of whiteness in the distance. Somehow the sight of that splotch of pure white unnerved the man even more than the rest of the grim and joyless landscape.

Looking at it more clearly, the man was horrified to realize that it wasn’t merely white, as in color. It was… nothing. He stared at nothingness itself. The next observation was even more terrifying: the absence of everything was growing, spreading, fast . It consumed the dark landscape, inch by inch, as it crawled outwards, in every direction and dimension.

Suddenly, the sound of someone knocking on the glass took him out of his morbid trance. Turning towards the noise, Ethan was shocked to actually see an enormous wall of glass, stretched as far and as high as an eye could see. The man would swear that this transparent barrier was not here before. Behind the endless wall of glass stood a small figure that made the man gulp in anxiety, for he knew her well.

Eveline grinned wide at him, even as her small palms were pressed against the glass that separated them. Her mouth opened, but whatever she spoke was muffled too badly for the man to hear. Realizing the predicament, the girl took one tiny hand of the glass and beckoned him closer with a single index finger, her playful smile not leaving her face all the while.

Looking behind him once more, the man shuddered as nothingness was creeping ever closer to him. What would happen once it reached him? Somehow, he was not looking forward to learn the answer to that question.

Reluctant, but not seeing an awful lot of options, he approached the wall of glass. Eveline pointed at her ear and then the glass, making the obvious implication. Ethan, doing as instructed, pressed his ear against the transparent barrier. Her voice was barely audible, but now he could make out the words, nevertheless. They sent a shiver down his spine.

“Let me in.”

Backing off, Ethan saw something that was definitely not there a second ago. A single door knob on his side broke the absolute uniformity of the glass wall. It was curiously painted in an umbrella-like pattern: white clashing with deep blue. With a start, the man realized that this white/blue door knob was the only thing of color in this desolate place of white and black, with the endless shades of grey in between.

Looking back at Eveline, he found her own mirthful eyes glancing to that little door knob, before returning to his own. Her grin was even wider and her tiny fingers were twitching in anticipation.

The man couldn’t suppress another gulp as the feeling of existential dread overtook him completely. Somehow he knew that if he turned that knob, there would be no coming back. This was a monumental decision. Or was it? Staring behind his shoulder yet again, the man was horrified to see the white doom rate of advance increasing. It would reach him in minutes.

For all her malice, Eveline offered him a chance at life, while the creeping nothingness behind him promised only eternal oblivion.

The man could only hope that he was making the right choice as his hand inched towards the knob. Turning the rusty thing with some effort, Ethan half-expected an invisible door to pop out. Instead, as he rotated it fully, fracture lines started to spread from it, running all the way through the glass wall.

Before long, the whole enormous barrier shuddered as it collapsed under its own weight, millions of sharp shards falling to the fleshy ground in a dizzying display. The sound of cracking glass was deafening. In mere moments, the immeasurable wall was gone and even the endless shards left behind faded away, as if they never were there in the first place. Ethan, his hand still clutching a knob that was no longer in existence just gawked in shock. It was just Eveline and the creeping oblivion now, with him in between.

The girl murmured at him in a playful voice that, nevertheless, failed to disguise hints of malice from him.

“How good to see you again, daddy ! Did you miss me? No, of course you didn’t… but I missed you.” There was a genuine tone to that last remark, laced with hurt. Her next words held nothing but spite, however.

“I see you’ve run into quite some trouble if you’re willing to let lil’ ol’ me back in again…”

Notes:

So this is a pretty big chapter... But even though I personally try not to make chapters too long, I really felt like this one was just right in its length. I hope it will be as enjoyable for you to read as it was for me to write :D

This will be the last major combat-oriented chapter in the first arc of my story, and truth to be told, I had it running in the back of my head for a while now! Feel free to share in the comments which part you liked the most (or hated the least :s), I am genuinely curious!

Chapter 18: Molding a Family

Notes:

Underlined italic is Eveline's voice in Ethan's head.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Bela looked down upon the shaking form of the fearsome assassin Styx, even as she held the tiny woman’s wrist, feeling the fragile bones crack under her unyielding, brutal grasp. For once, the elder Dimitrescu sibling drank deeply upon other’s pain and suffering.

Styx was shaking furiously, even as blood trickled down from her facial orifices. She could barely breath as her heart pumped blood at a rate never meant for a human body. It felt like the abused organ was bursting inside of her. It hurt so bad. The colors started to fade, as did the sounds of the world. Tears mixed with blood poured out of her eyes.

Alice dropped her rifle to the ground, with nary a thought about the expensive and beloved toy. Only one thing was on her rapidly unraveling mind now. The small syringe, still within her reach. Salvation. Her small right hand inched towards it, even as her left one was being crushed by the inhumanly strong grip of her vampiric nemesis.

Just a bit further and I can still turn this all around… I still had a flame turret somewhere… I’ll burn these bitches to a crisp… just a bit further…

Her final hope died as a low-heeled boot came crashing down on the fragile syringe, destroying the injector and spilling the precious liquid on the cold, uncaring earth.

No...

She could not deny her obvious defeat any longer. A spike of anger shot from within. Not at her quarry who had outwitted Styx so badly. At herself. For taking this goddamn contract. For refusing to swallow her pride and working together with the Dire Wolves. For not taking that shot the moment she could. Embers of anger died out quickly, however.

Alice’s puffy red eyes gazed up once more, pleading with her would-be slayer. She just wanted to live, so badly… Her vocal cords struggled to produce slurred, barely audible words.

“Please...I…”

“Save your breath. You have precious little of it left, it seems.”

Bela’s ice cold voice brooked no argument, it opened no path towards negotiations. There was not a spark of mercy in her vicious yellow eyes, glaring down on Styx’s tiny form with unbridled malice in them. The towering woman murmured her next words softly and slowly, yet her voice was so cold, so full of hatred, that a shudder went throughout the assassin’s tiny body. She knew her fate was sealed.

“Do you know what’s funny? The man you’ve killed, Ethan Winters. He would have spared you. But me? I will enjoy watching the spark of life leave your eyes. Talk about karma, huh?”

Bela’s other hand closed in on Styx’s throat, lifting her up gently, as if not to break the delicate windpipe and cut her suffering short. The tiny woman felt her feet leaving the ground as the tall blonde’s cruel amber orbs connected with her own bloodshot eyes. Somehow, she was still finding the fucking vampire bitch that was about to end her sexy.

Alice knew she was not to be long for this world even if this contract did turn out to be a resounding success. Yet… she still had so much she wanted to do. So much more to experience in her short life. Regret and remorse washed throughout her frame, only to be replaced by resignation.

In her business, death was always lurking somewhere, out of sight, but always waiting. Always watching. A moment of weakness was all it would take. And she had shown plenty. When she had signed this contract, she had accepted the possibility of death. Now it was time to accept the certainty of it.

Focusing what was left of her rapidly fading strength in one last defiant gaze, the short woman stared right in the vicious yellow orbs of her would-be slayer. Bela was kinda cute in her cold determination to end Alice’s own life, with her full lips set in a firm line and her narrowed amber orbs burning with loathing. Not the worst way to go, all things considered…

Finally, Styx’s tiny heart could take the ever rising pressure her unstable condition imposed no more. Without the stabilizing agent to control it, her veins and arteries ruptured, coloring her innards crimson with her own internal blood. Styx tried to give one last wink to her gorgeous slayer, but it likely came out as a spastic grimace, instead. Without access to oxygen, her brain was quick to shut down, putting her into a sleep one doesn’t wake up from.

Bela kept holding the body of her nemesis for a few more moments, before carelessly discarding it, the corpse collapsing on the cold ground in a heap. Styx death wouldn’t bring Ethan back, but it did provide a measure of satisfaction to the tall woman. 

At least that horrible little bitch won’t be coming for my family, ever again.

Looking towards her younger sibling, Bela was glad to see her back on her feet already, watching her actions carefully. Daniela was once again in control of herself but she still glared at Alice's corpse with undisguised hatred in her normally kind, joyous eyes. Even their most kind-hearted, peace-loving little sister approved of the violent end Bela just enacted upon the assassin that took Ethan from them.

Exchanging no words, the two siblings returned back to that ill-fated house, even as fires of the violent night still burned around them, with an occasional gunshot or a scream piercing the veil of darkness. Their fight here was done.

The beaten and bruised form of Cassandra dizzily emerged from a dark alleyway to their left, her clothing burned and torn. None of her formidable gear or weaponry remained on her person, just her trusty knife and sickle hanging from her miraculously-intact belt. The violence-infused night wasn’t kind to the middle daughter, either. Her mouth and jaw were smeared with fresh blood, implying a recent feeding.

As the stumbling brunette approached her two weary sisters with unsteady gait, her blood-stained mouth opened wide, likely ready to go into a glorious tale of all the mighty foes she had vanquished tonight.

Only silence came out, as the middle child followed the gazes of Bela and Daniela. Cassandra’s own cruel heart skipped a beat as she beheld the still form of Ethan Winters. 

That fearless man-thing that had killed Miranda, two years ago. That brave fool who had agreed to a spar with her, despite knowing that he stood no fighting chance. That annoying little man who had wormed his way into their hearts. Who stood unyielding in his defense of her sisters, again and again.

Cassandra felt something wet trickling down her dirtied cheek. Wiping the offending liquid-like substance with her gloved hand, she looked at it with wonder. Did she just shed a tear for some filthy human outsider?

Daniela, sobbing and sniffing herself, immediately rushed to hold her in a bone-crushing embrace as soon as she saw her form. Cassandra eagerly returned the gesture, holding the redhead in a comforting embrace of her own. Bela gave her a nod and a small smile, happy that at least her sisters were alright. Cassandra nodded back but said nothing. She wasn’t sure what would be appropriate in this situation.

Bela Dimitrescu once again knelt before the body of a man she had so much affection and admiration towards. Tears were silently trickling down her face, even as her fists clenched in impotent rage. The kneeling woman grit her teeth in bitterness. She wished she could go and kill Styx all over again, slowly this time, with some precise bladework she had picked over the years from Cassandra. 

***

Ethan gazed at Eveline with more than a bit of apprehension. The little girl only smirked back at him, even as she gave a cute yawn, as if sleepy.

“So… how does it feel to get shot in the head, daddy? You did that a lot to my own friends, only fair that you get to experience it yourself, right?”

The man didn’t know how he got here, but he did suspect a grievous trauma of some kind. Her words had a remarkably calming effect on him, surprisingly.

A shot to the head, is it? That’s a new one, Winters. I suppose that’s one alternative to collecting coins or postcards...

“So...am I dead then?”

The question was genuine. The man had no fucking idea what the hell was going on right now.

The girl giggled cutely at that, one small palm covering her mouth. Swiping one long lock of dark black hair away, Eveline spoke in a playful voice, as she measured him with her light green orbs.

“Do you want to be dead, daddy?”

That was a no-brainer. He still had to save Mia. He still had a little daughter to take care of. He still had the three vampire siblings to protect. Not to mention that connection he felt forming with Bela. Ethan found himself desperate to find where exactly it would lead. He couldn’t die, not yet…

“Of course not!”

“Let me see what I can do, then!”

The girl walked briskly towards him even as she muttered out these strange words. How could a figment of his imagination help him, anyway? Still, Ethan didn’t back off as Eveline closed the distance rapidly, raising up on her tiptoes to reach his forehead with her small palm. Her hand felt deathly cold on his temple, sending yet another shiver down his spine.

As her limb returned to her side, the small girl looked at him with an uncharacteristically pensive look on her face. Her next words were mumbled out, as if unsure.

“Hmmm, yes, that’s a lot of damage you took, silly daddy… I think I could help, but it would not be a simple process. Replacing gray matter is the hardest thing to repair in a body, you know, and you’ve lost a lot of it!”

Ethan could only watch the pondering and muttering girl in morbid fascination, especially since the white oblivion behind him was inching ever closer, making the nervous man sweat.

Clicking her tongue, as if deciding on something, the girl swirled her piercing green orbs his way once more. Clapping her hands together, before pointing an accusing finger his way, she exclaimed.

“At my best, I could fix you up pronto! But...since, ahmm ‘someone’ killed all of my hosts, fixing you up now would take a lot of my own energy! And why should I give it away for free?”

Eveline fixed him with a sly grin, making a man sweat even more. He already had a good idea about what she was about to say next.

“For my generous help, you will owe me. Big time.”

“Owe you? What does that even mean? You’re literally living in my head.”

She frowned at that, yet it morphed into a wide, toothy smile soon after.

“A favor or two, nothing special. I’ll tell you to do something, and you’ll do it! I...”

Ethan interrupted the girl at that. 

“A favor? I am not gonna go around infecting people for you, Eveline.”

The girl just shushed him and continued.

“Relax! I am not going to ask you anything you’d hate! Believe it or not, my time here was...educating… I’ve been thinking a lot… I’ve come to the conclusion that free will is important, after all.”

Ethan was astounded by the fact that this monstrous girl whose actions had resulted in the death of so many people showed genuine remorse as she spoke these most unexpected, introspective words. He still wasn’t convinced… 

Eveline, seeing his indecision, scoffed in annoyance, before pointing at the growing nothingness behind him with one delicate finger.

“It’s me or that! You got around thirty seconds before I won’t be able to help you at all! Choose fast!”

The girl chuckled evilly after casually summarizing his life or death situation, and if Ethan wasn’t the one who was standing in between the monstrous B.O.W. and eternal oblivion, he might’ve found the situation comical. Looking behind his shoulder and seeing so much of the desolate landscape utterly obliterated, with him next in line, the man had all the reassurances he needed.

“Jesus fucking Christ! Fine! You win!”

Eveline smirked, clearly expecting that answer.

“Alright! My first task for you! Kiss Bela on the lips as soon as you see her! And don’t you dare chickening out now! You won’t want to see what I can do with the mold in your body now that you’ve let me in!”

The man was utterly in shock from that peculiar request, his jaw hanging wide open. Not giving him time to argue back, Eveline waved him a goodbye, as the moldy and fleshy ground rapidly consumed her form. This whole experience was beyond surreal at this point so Ethan wasn’t even questioning anything anymore.

Now that girl was gone, Ethan only had the white oblivion to look at. The man breathed in obvious relief as the creeping nothingness started slowing down, before stopping completely. Mere moments later, to Ethan’s eternal solace it started itching back, ever so slowly, barely perceptibly so. What was less pleasant to see was that the flesh it left behind was different from the rest of the landscape. It was pitch-black, disgustingly pulsating veiny stuff, making Ethan nauseous from merely looking at it. The implications were terrifying to consider. Perhaps oblivion would’ve been preferable, after all.

Without warning, electricity started arcing through the fleshy ground, going far into the distance. A sound of a slowly beating heart could be heard from far away. The bleak, colorless terrain was suddenly reinvigorated, gaining some healthy pink tint, as if someone breathed a spark of life into it. 

Admiring the incredible changes taking effect right before his eyes, the man didn’t even notice as everything blurred and faded away...

***

Bela took her time to say farewell to the man that had changed so much in her life, for the better. Even though his limbs were stiff in their rigor mortis, she still cradled him dearly. Both of her sisters stood silent, in respect, even Cassandra.

As she held his body upright in her arms, the elder daughter only wished that they could’ve had more time together. To truly get to know each other. She couldn’t deny the connection she felt to this human. Perhaps...they could’ve even been something special. As tears kept trickling down her cheeks, the woman murmured softly.

“Farewell, Ethan Winters… Thank you for everything you’ve done for us...for me. I…will never forget you. Rest well in the knowledge that I will keep Rose safe from everyone who would do her harm until I find Mia. And I will. I promise you that.”

The woman closed her eyes and spent a couple of moments in silence. Somehow, she felt his skin behind his shirt not quite as cold as it was a minute ago. Bela dismissed it as her own feverish body reaction to the horrifying acid wound her shoulder suffered.

“You’re going to attend my funeral, at least, Bells? Since you’re burying me so fast…You do look good in black, come to think of it...”

A loud, shocked gasp came from Daniela’s mouth. Cassandra just stood still and wide-eyed. Bela herself couldn’t believe her ears. Perhaps she did inhale some of that poison and now was suffering from auditory hallucinations of some kind?

Raising a single delicate eyelid up slowly, as if afraid this was an illusion or a cruel trick of the mind, Bela couldn’t suppress a gasp of her own as her amber eyes met dull, but very much alive gray orbs.

“Ethan…? You’re alive? But how…”

The man in question, his torso still held upright by Bela’s firm but gentle hands, just gave a pained chuckle as he admired the blonde woman inches away from him.

I wouldn’t mind waking up to ‘that’ more often…

After his near-death experience, there was no sight more beautiful to Ethan than her grime and blood covered frame. Her stunning, wide eyes were jumping all over his own battered body in turn, burning with emotions. Her shoulder, however, looked like a melted mess, making the man wince at the sight. He could only hope it looked worse than it felt.

“I guess some alluring blonde kept me tethered to this world, after all.”

God, that was his lamest flirting attempt ever. And why was he flirting with her, to begin with, in this bloodsoaked warzone, of all places?

It’s like all my inhibitions died with me, or something…

Remember our deal ?

Eveline didn’t even need to remind him that. At this point, the man wanted nothing more than to smash his lips against Bela’s. Somehow, surviving what should’ve been a sure death sentence made Ethan think less clearly about the future potential consequences and complications of such an act.

Before the man could do anything, however, Bela beat him to a punch, to his own shock. Her hold on him tightened, as if afraid he would disappear otherwise. Not a moment later, her searing hot lips fell down upon his own in a show of desperate passion. 

Ethan wasn’t a stranger to displays of physical affection. Years with Mia, as well as a couple of sweethearts during his school and uni days saw to that. Yet the sheer, unbridled emotion in that longing kiss made them all pale in comparison. He returned the gesture with his own, no longer contained adulation, locking their lips together in an intense, wild clash. The raw, almost brutal passion of her kiss was a far cry from her usual gentle touch. Despite the harshness of the motions, Bela’s lips were amazingly soft, even more so than he imagined.

This was a moment they both craved the instant their eyes met on that boat, the man realized with a start, even as he put his arms around her bare back, holding the woman he adored so much tightly, possessively so. Her pale skin felt just right under his hands. 

Soon, however, the mere lip lock was not enough for the hurricane of emotions the woman felt rushing out at this moment. Her wet tongue demanded entrance and Ethan was only too happy to oblige. Bela’s taste had that unmistakable iron tinge of blood, yet at the moment the man felt as if he was savouring the heavenly Manna itself.

Their tongues contested each other savagely, trying to assert dominance, neither giving way. Gripped by violent, desperate passion, the kindred souls were lost to the world, with only two of them existing in this moment of hazy love. Ethan wanted to remain in this moment of raw, unbridled emotions and pure bliss forever. Bela shared his sentiment, if her fervent lips and tongue was any indication. 

The world would not be denied, however, and soon the couple was roughly yanked out of their soul-stirring trance by a loud, dramatic coughing.

Both Ethan and Bela blushed pink as they slowly broke their lip-lock, neither their eyes nor their arms leaving each other, just yet. Millie’s voice shattered what was left of their passion-fueled moment.

“As much as I hate to interrupt this... moment you seem to be having, we cannot rest on our laurels, just yet. I am truly glad you’re all in one piece, however. Almost nobody else made it.”

Still holding each other tightly, not wanting to let go, the couple glanced at the source of the offending voice. Millie and two of the Duke’s armsmen, as well as a man in a Dire Wolf uniform were all looking at them with wide eyes. Cassandra and Daniela stood together on the opposite side, the former with an annoyed, bored expression and latter with barely contained mirth in her wide yellow eyes.

The naval grunts were beaten and bruised, with numerous wounds covering their worn-out frames and expressions of exhaustion on their faces. The Dire Wolf man was clearly held prisoner, with handcuffs on. The lanky, bespectacled mercenary looked to be in even worse shape. Clearly, he was subject to savage beatings, sporting a black eye and holding his lean frame huddled, as if afraid of even more punishment coming his way. Millie herself was in a remarkably better state, barely having any dirt on her person. Her voice was not nearly as steady and authoritative as it was before, however. The massacre they barely survived took its toll even on her.

Millie pointed at the fearsome-looking sandstorm in the distance. Everyone’s attention was on her, even though they all did know what came next.

“This sandstorm is a perfect cover. We continue our mission to raid their HQ and find where Lady Dimitrescu is held. We cannot afford to tarry.”

Everyone, even the cuddling pair on the ground, just nodded in agreement. This night of violence and passion was far from done. Millie addressed her men next.

“Take the prisoner back to the ship.”

The men did as told; a gun barrel pressing into the captive making him compliant as they escorted him away, back to the pier where a motorboat still waited. 

The Duke’s right-hand woman, clearly undaunted by the fact that it was just them left, approached a door to the intact-looking armored car and pointedly looked at Cassandra as she spoke.

“If you would be so kind..?”

Cassandra just folded her arms and scowled at the arrogant human, but quickly gave in as still kneeling Bela graced the brunette with a pointed stare of her own. Scoffing at the indignity, the middle child roughly opened the door and callously tossed the dead mercenary driver out. Millie promptly took his spot at the wheel and looked back at the company.

“You coming?”

Ethan and Bela stood up slowly at that, still holding each other possessively. Both of them had an irrational fear that the other would disappear if they let go, even for a second.

The elder Dimitrescu was gazing right into his brown-gray eyes. Ethan couldn’t help but be lost in her own endless amber orbs, so full of passion that was held back for so long, suddenly pouring out in a waterfall of emotions. He longed for another taste of her already.

Was it truly love he held for this woman now? The man couldn’t help but ponder on that. He briefly struggled to find the word that would describe his current emotions more accurately, before giving up on that thankless task. 

“For the record, mom won’t like this. Whatever this is.”

Cassandra’s neutral tone finally allowed the two freshly-minted lovers to let each other go, just slightly. Bela’s tone was playful, even as she kept gazing into Ethan’s eyes.

“Why don’t we ask mother herself what she likes, once we rescue her, Cass?”

The blonde daughter winked at him, making the man wonder, what it is he just got himself into. Despite the insanity that occurred in the last hour, Ethan felt reinvigorated and reassured, as confident as ever before. His voice reflected that.

“That’s right. It’s about time we got to the bottom of this goddamn mess and your mother out of it. I have more than a few questions for these bastards to answer to, myself.”

The small company was quick to get in the vehicle after that, Bela sitting next to Ethan and laying her blonde head on his shoulder, even as the man eagerly embraced her, careful not to disturb her own grisly injury.

Daniela, who got in next, wasted no time in bandaging her older sibling’s shoulder, still sore and damaged. The previous application of first aid spray did provide a relief from agonizing pain the acid wound inflicted, but it could still get infected, otherwise. Redhead’s eyes sparkled in delight as she worked. Clearly she wanted to say a great many things, but she kept quiet for now. More than that, she wanted to envelop Ethan in a hug that would likely require the man to pay a visit to an orthopedic specialist after, but once again, she held herself back. She knew there would be plenty of time for that later. Once they were all one big, happy family. The girl smiled contentedly at that thought.

Their car moved forward, slowly at first, going around the wrecked buildings and vehicles, then lurching fast once the obstacles were passed. One massacre was left behind, but one more waited just ahead. For the next few peaceful minutes however, Ethan took comfort in the presence of the woman he held. How perfectly her slender frame fit his hands, how gently her body moved as she breathed. How exquisite that long, savage kiss was, so full of passion and love.

That didn’t count, by the way. Kiss her yourself next time! 

Mentally sighing, the man could only think back at her.

Shut up, Eveline. Go to bed. It’s late.

Well, I AM kinda tired after patching up your ungrateful ass… Good night daddy. Have fun killing all these nerds! They deserve it.

Somehow, even Ethan shared that last sentiment. His free hand gripped his pistol holster tightly. He fully expected to have to use the weapon held within, soon. Very soon.

***

James Sallow, a.k.a. Nightcrawler wanted to tear his hair out as he watched drone footage in real-time. He rarely liked to quote his loathsome boss, yet it felt exactly right this time.

A clusterfuck of massive proportions…

Not only were his recommendations for the mission completely ignored and the mercs and the assassin basically went on a rampage amidst civilian population, but they also attacked each other, in addition to their actual targets; turning this whole massacre into some kind of a three-way battle with random bystanders caught in between.

Even though the local government was favorable to their activities in the region, this would not stand. Someone’s ass would be handed over on a platter. His ass, since the goddamn guns-for-hire were all worm food.

Naturally, the bug-bitches and even Ethan fucking Winters were all alive, somehow. Both Sebastian and himself have underestimated their power gravely, it seemed. The poor father in particular, was looking to be not quite as human as James himself was led to believe. Next time Nightcrawler will recommend flamethrowers. 

More than merely alive, they were livid and on their merry way to their regional HQ, mere miles away from their current position. Whatever meager security measures the facility had would be insufficient to stop these monsters. The vicious sandstorm was raging over it right now, preventing any kind of communication, leaving them ripe for the taking. The research facility would be the Duke’s little gang’s next target.

Fortunately for the man, James still had time to warn the research facility itself, however. It was absolutely vital for the E-001 prototypes to be evacuated before their enemies would get to it. Alpha would definitely leave nobody involved alive if that latter scenario occurred.

James nervously paced around his small room and bit on his nails as he thought of a way from this goddamn mess. Even if the prototypes were successfully extracted, the rest of the failures would compound to be a death sentence for him. He wasn’t too keen on being fed alive to Theta’s nefarious mutant pet shark.

Suddenly, an idea popped into his head. Quickly checking his computer for a relevant document, the man’s unremarkable eyes lit up as they ran over his older after-action report. These two simple lines of text could be the difference between life and death.

Recommend avoiding pairing assets Styx and Dire Wolves PMC, due to an accident that left both parties extremely hostile towards each other.

That was it. Nightcrawler’s official recommendation from a bit over a year ago. His job was not to select assets, but to manage them. Sebastian ignored his previous recommendation completely by assigning Styx to this job. True, nobody expected Winters to work together with the Dimitrescu siblings, but upon seeing them in cahoots, James did immediately verbally advise his boss about potential consequences of intermixing these assets. He was dismissed without a moment of consideration and told to proceed, regardless. Therefore, James could pin the blame for this failure on Sebastian.

Nevertheless, this was not enough. Sebastian had a lot of leverage with his prized recruit, Mia Winters at his side. She wasn’t merely a talented and morally ambiguous scientist; she was also the sole living researcher with any deeper-than-skin insight into the Mold. As long as she stood behind Sebastian, the council would be inclined to overlook his mistakes… or pass them down the chain.

Nightcrawler was not keen on having someone else's errors end up on his lap, either. Thankfully, the solution to this particular problem was not out of reach. It basically presented itself…

James smirked as he thought about what kind of reaction dear Mia would have upon seeing that particular part of the footage. By all accounts, the woman rejoined their organization precisely to keep her beloved husband and daughter safe… How would she take the news that good old Ethan found himself a new paramour? Especially since that person was a daughter of her own research subject...

The unremarkable man, now calm and collected once again, sat back to his workstation. His deft fingers rapidly clicking on the keyboard, a smirk still on his face, he composed two different messages. One for the security chief in the R&D facility, another for dear Mia.

Notes:

Alas, poor Styx! RIP my beloved OC :(
Hope I didn't bore you too much with the mindscape segments, I admit I am kinda sucker for dream/mind sequences.
At least our heroes finally shared their first kiss, hope you've enjoyed that scene! They are not a couple just yet, but firmly on that way. I doubt Mia's revelations will have a particularly marriage-reinforcing effects on our moldy boy, either :S

Thanks for reading! As always, feel free to express any ideas or suggestions or just opinions you might have, I always enjoy reading what you guys think about my story so far :)

Chapter 19: Shenanigans in Darkness

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The raging sandstorm that engulfed their vehicle from every direction was utterly blinding. The only way Millie was able to drive their all-terrain vehicle ahead was with the help of her electronic device.

Everyone was tense once again as they were approaching their next destination - The Connections regional HQ which would hopefully have the location of the facility where Alcina herself was held.

“Stay strong, mom. We are almost there.”

Cassandra’s somber and firm words gave voice to what every daughter was thinking. Ethan gently squeezed Bela’s hand, to add his own silent reassurance. The woman, now in a drab black shirt that was a size or two too big for her, which they found in the car, turned her head to smile at him. The man smiled back, once again finding himself caught admiring her beautiful amber orbs. Millie’s voice brought him back down quickly, however.

“We no longer have the forces needed for a frontal assault, but with this sandstorm still raging, we don’t even need to perform one. A covert infiltration should be sufficient for our purposes.” 

Cassandra grinned wide at that, showing her bloodied, sharp teeth. The idea of stalking unaware prey was just as exhilarating to her as was the all-out slaughter. 

Bela hummed in thought. The woman still had her head on Ethan’s shoulder, to his unvoiced delight, yet her eyes were running over the rough sketch of the building the Duke’s scout had provided beforehand. Her delicate finger traced a large ‘X’ near the front entrance of the building. Chicken-scratch underneath it evoked negative memories in the blonde Dimitrescu.

‘Goalkeeper - Danger!’

“I take it nobody wants to go against that giant thing you met on the island again?”

A chorus of responses came her way.

“No, thanks.”

“No way!”

“Sure!”

Bela raised a single eyebrow at her younger sister who was sitting on the front seat.

“Really, Cass?”

“I fear neither beasts of flesh nor metal! Well… alright. Maybe not today. Later, for sure.”

“For sure, Cass.”

Ethan found himself smirking fondly upon the boisterous brunette’s back. Even this crass and violent woman was growing on him now, somehow. The man was feeling surprisingly peaceful himself, despite the fact that their little group had just emerged from one slaughter and was only minutes away from the next.

His hand, without a conscious thought, went drifting towards Bela’s dirtied golden locks. Running his fingers through the hair of the woman brought him comfort and reassurance he needed before the next bloodbath that undoubtedly awaited them.

Bela hummed in content at the gesture, before speaking.

“There is a skywalk here, leading to what is likely an administrative wing. Using the sandstorm as cover we can sneak up to it, then fly right up there.”

“Ehm...Bells, are you not forgetting something? I...”

Ethan’s mumblings died on his lips as the blonde woman playfully poked him on the nose with a deft finger, without even looking at him.

“Of course not, Ethan. We’ll just fly you up there. Three of us should be more than sufficient to lift a single man a short distance.”

Nice. Now you want me to help you drag your man-thing around. What’s next, sister? Should I kiss his boo boos for you as well?”

“Stop complaining about every little thing, Cass. We are a team, and we should help each other. Not to mention, Ethan’s technical expertise could prove useful up there.”

“Eh, nothing my lovely knife can’t do. Give me two minutes and I’ll make any pitiful worm in that building spill every dirty little secret.”

Ethan felt like saying something for himself, as they were almost upon their destination. He wasn’t going to be deadweight, not this time.

“Don’t worry, Cassandra, I aim to pull my weight from now on. I won’t let you girls down.”

“Hmph.”

Cassandra didn't seem overly impressed. Millie put an end to their so-called briefing with a firm voice.

“We’re here. I’ll wait in the car. Get what we need, and get out. The faster we execute this phase, the faster we can rescue Lady Alcina.”

Hearing that, Bela finally lifted her head from Ethan’s shoulder and the man noticed how her yellow eyes narrowed, as if in suspicion, as they drilled holes in Millie’s seat. He had no idea what was going on, but he also felt like this was a bad time to ask.

As their car stopped, Bela leaned in to give him a quick peck on the cheek, murmuring: “for good luck…”. Ethan, feeling lucky indeed, returned the gesture to her tattooed forehead, making the woman giggle softly. 

“Hey! Don’t forget about me!”

Daniela, seeing the affectionate exchange, clearly felt left out and presented her own forehead, carelessly climbing over Bela’s lap and closing her eyes in anticipation. 

Seeing no harm in a little gesture like that, Ethan leaned in to gently kiss the eager redhead’s own flower tattoo. Bela took the chance to run her hands through Daniela’s hair, still short in a dirty ponytail. The youngest sister purred in delight at the combined affection. Her bliss was interrupted as Cassandra poked her in the ribs with a single sharp digit, causing the redhead to yelp in surprise.

“Ouch! Bela! Cassandra is mean to me again!”

Ethan had a hard time believing how quickly these girls were capable of bouncing back from mental trauma. One would have a hard time believing they have just emerged from a life or death struggle. Clearly, the long years spent in their isolated castle have hardened their psyches to a formidable degree. That particular quality will prove to be most useful, the man supposed.

***

Just like the small group hoped, they managed to sneak through several checkpoints unmolested, thanks to an all-consuming sandstorm, in addition to the pitch-black darkness of the night. Somehow, despite the mayhem that occurred mere miles away from this base, the guards appeared to be on low alert, completely unaware of any potential intruders.

The party made its way to the skyway without an incident, unless counting the ever-present sand filling their clothes as one.

Just like they discussed, the girls all assumed their swarm forms, turning into three separate clusters of dark insects. The silhouettes of their clothing could be seen inside the swarms.

Ethan stared at them all in apprehension, as hundreds of blowflies slowly, almost menacingly, fluttered towards him. Soon, the buzzing insects surrounded him completely, engulfing him in a sea of black chitin. 

It was an incredible, indescribable feeling as hundreds of minuscule beasts each pulled and tugged on his clothing. Ethan never experienced anything like that. Perhaps, Marguerite’s insectoid assault on him could be something relatable, but this time it was not an unpleasant feeling, somehow. It felt...magical.

Swarms of tiny creatures wasted no further time and worked together to lift Ethan off the ground, and the man could only gasp in astonishment and wonder as he felt his feet actually leaving the solid earth. 

As he slowly but steadily gained elevation, Ethan, unable to suppress joyful laughter, playfully tried to guess which of the insect swarms was which Dimitrescu sibling.

On his torso, the insects worked in perfect synchronicity, in calm and orderly fashion. The man smiled at the thought.

Has to be Bela.

On his left arm and shoulder, the buzzing insects were much more chaotic, moving erratically, pushing each other out of the way frequently.

Daniela?

On the opposite side, the flies were clearly stronger, making the man tilt slightly in the other direction. They were also not shy about biting his exposed skin, drawing a bit of blood that they promptly consumed.

Definitely Cassandra.

This whole bizarre experience was truly out of this world, not much different from some outlandish bedtime stories he had read to Rose. Soon, however, they reached their destination - the glassed skywall, about three floors from the ground.

The cruel, harsh reality beckoned and Ethan answered the call with his 9mm handgun, shattering the glass and trusting the deafening volume of the sandstorm to conceal their likely unwelcome presence. 

The swarms carried him closer, allowing the man to kick the weakened glass in, providing an entrance point. The buzzing insects wasted no time in fluttering in, with Ethan in tow. 

As soon as his feet touched the solid floor once again, the three separate swarms disengaged, reforming shortly in their human forms. The man smirked as his earlier guesses proved correct. That smirk turned into a sheepish grin upon Ethan’s eyes catching a glimpse of Cassandra slowly and hungrily licking her bloodstained lips, winking at him suggestively. 

“That was… quite an experience!”

Ethan’s voice, struggling to be heard through the biting wind, couldn’t contain the mirth from this incredible, otherworldly ordeal. All three girls giggled at that, each in their own peculiar manner. Calm and soft; low and slightly menacing; high-pitched and joyous.

The group, done with the pleasantries, proceeded towards the administrative wing. The door inside from the skywalk had a padlock with a card reader on it, but a couple of shots from Ethan’s pistol made short work of it, disabling the security feature and hopefully not raising an alarm.

The moment they got inside the building they were greeted by two night shift security guards, lightly equipped and with sleep in their wide, shocked eyes.

As the sound disturbance they went to check on turned out to be a bunch of bloodstained invaders, the guards raised their own pistols, even as their features betrayed their utter lack of preparation for such a contingency.

The security personnel’s unsteady and sleep-deprived fingers never got to squeeze the triggers of their firearms, as Bela and Cassandra were upon them in mere moments, vicious sickles drawn.

Two flashes of steel, almost too fast for a human eye to follow, and the guards dropped their guns, opting to clutch at their throats instead, as deep gushes now spilled their vital fluids freely.

Cassandra, ever hungry for fresh man-blood, didn’t miss a beat and bit deeply into the guard she just mortally wounded. Tearing his neck open in a grisly spectacle of blood and gore, the cruel brunette drank greedily upon the rich arterial liquid, holding the feebly-struggling man in her unyielding grasp.

Both Bela and Daniela stared at her with envious, narrowed eyes, desperate to join in on the feast. The elder sister’s shaky voice betrayed her own lust for blood.

“Cassandra… let’s move on for now, sister... We can feed later.”

Taking one more savage bite into the man’s mutilated neck, tearing out a large chunk of flesh, the brunette released the soon-to-be corpse with callous disregard. Shrugging her shoulders casually, the brunette said nothing, smirking at her jealous sisters as she chewed, instead. Ethan could only shiver from the brutal sight.

I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this… But I suppose it's a good thing.

The small group continued on, running into nobody else for the next minute, as the majority of the staff were probably resting in the dormitory on the other side of the HQ at this ungodly hour. 

Finally, they reached a pair of ornate doors, likely the director’s cabinet. Two guards next to them were exchanging tales of sexual adventures they’ve had with the locals recently. The poor fools were looking the other way, completely at ease.

Cassandra stopped the rest of their small group with a single palm raised up, proceeding alone, deathly quiet. Ethan gulped, his mind already running the possible scenarios of horrible bodily violence he was about to witness.

The brunette approached the guards slowly and steadily as her narrowed burning eyes glared holes in their backs. Her fingers were twitching erratically, even as they clutched her preferred instruments of deathdealing.

Somehow, despite her cat-like footsteps, one of the guards felt something amiss and turned to face the predator. Her maniacal grin was the last thing he saw as her knife buried itself deep into his forehead, likely killing the man instantly. A merciful death, imposed by the group’s desire to remain silent.

The second guard, fully aware now, opened his mouth to cry out in distress, yet nothing but a pained gasp came out, as Cassandra’s right fist, still clutching her sickle, impacted his windpipe with bone crushing force. A savage stomp-kick to his knee followed, producing that distinctive cracking sound. As the choking man fell on his knees, a brutal elbow slam right in his temple knocked his lights out.

Ethan was genuinely surprised. He didn’t expect Cassandra to ever perform a non-lethal takedown. As the rest approached, her next words cleared that particular confusion quickly, however. The brunette watched Ethan carefully as she spoke to her sisters.

Another test?

“For you, dear sisters. I know how you appreciate it fresh, but not struggling.”

The horrifying implications became clear as both Bela and Daniela looked away, as if ashamed, when Ethan gazed back at them. This was not a mercy after all, but a lamb to the slaughter. Bela’s voice was meek as she explained the situation.

“Forgive us, Ethan. The past hours took a toll on us. Fresh, living blood is what we need to regain our strength. You don’t have to watch.”

The man quickly recalled the conversation he had before with Bela. She did mention how fresh human blood had a potent reinvigorating effect on their bodies. This was not an unexpected, yet still not particularly pleasant situation. Nevertheless, Ethan did his best to stomach his discomfort. They were allies, after all. Together in joys and hardships.

“It’s fine, Bells. We are not much of a team if I can’t even accept you girls for what you are.”

Bela smiled and nodded, grateful for such understanding words. Meanwhile, Cassandra was working upon the door’s simple lock, before giving up and just bashing it with her sickle’s grip. 

The small group walked inside, with Bela dragging the unconscious victim behind her; Cassandra remaining on watch, outside. The brunette likely had her fill from all the numerous ‘snacks’ she had along the way.

Ethan was quick to set to work on the computer, which was not even turned off for the night. Still password protected, unfortunately. It was time to put his vast experience as a system engineer as well as his...less known hobbies to work.

A keyboard was an instrument even more familiar to his fingers than a handgun, after all.

Before he started, however, he could not help but take a moment to observe the grisly scene taking place in the far corner of the room. Both Bela and Daniela were feasting upon the still living man with wanton abandon. The Dimitrescu women were not merely drinking his blood, either. They were devouring the poor guard, their sharp teeth tearing large chunks of his flesh along with the blood. The girls were ravenous, barely chewing the meat before consuming it and going for more. Even their flies, some of which were unleashed right now, partook in the grisly meal, likely speeding up the process. The squelching, tearing sounds of slaughter, intermixed with buzzing flies and weak, pained cries, almost made Ethan vomit. Still, the man endured, as he returned to his own work.

His mind focused on the task at hand and his brown-gray eyes narrowed in concentration as he glanced around the office space for any kind of a hint. It wasn’t uncommon for the busy people in positions of authority to make a relatively simple password with a reminder of some kind nearby.

Unfortunately for Ethan, the office was an extravagantly decorated place with a great multitude of random objects; with piles of documents occupying numerous shelves. The next ten minutes were spent fruitlessly as the man attempted one password after another. 

Bela, having finished her rejuvenating meal, was standing behind Ethan now, looking curiously at his progress, or lack thereof. Daniela was sitting cross legged by the large window, looking at the sandstorm still raging outside, a thousand yard stare in her eyes.

Taking a quick glance at the woman behind him, Ethan suppressed a wince at her blood-smeared face and the baggy black shirt that was now colored deep red. Her gentle hand, laying down on his shoulder, provided a measure of reassurance, as did her soft voice.

“I know this was not the most pleasant sight you’ve ever seen…”

The man would have none of it however.

“Listen, Bells. I am not going to lie and say this was nothing...but it's also not something that would make me view you any differently. You are what you are. I can’t hold the way your body works against you.”

The blonde woman smiled at Ethan lovingly upon hearing these words. Her joyous visage appeared beautiful to the man’s eyes even through the veil of crimson that enveloped it now. Nevertheless, he had work to do.

Out of possible hints on and around the desk itself, Ethan stood up, quickly shuffling over the office in search of anything helpful in his task. It was only a matter of time until some other guard or night shift worker discovered them or the corpses left near the skyway.

Bela was still at his side as he searched, something still eating on her mind. Her voice was unsure as she mumbled out words he was expecting… and dreading. 

“What happened earlier…”

Ethan knew full well what happened. That kiss , so full of savage passion. He was just as compliant and eager as she was, if not more so. He will not let her heap all the blame on herself.

“Let me stop you right there, Bela. What happened was a mistake… ” Her eyes fell down immediately as that cruel word left his lips. Ethan wasn’t done, however.

“That said… I have no regrets - none, whatsoever. You shouldn’t have any, either.”

Ethan took another moment to turn around and face Bela, locking his eyes with her passionate amber orbs. The man clutched her hand before he finished that particular conversation. 

“Alright?”

She clutched his hand back, tightly.

“Alright.”

Returning back to his work, now checking out a bookshelf, the man was struck by a sudden inspiration as his eyes got glued to one particular book, clearly recently read - in stark contrast to every other one on that shelf, which were all covered in layers of dust.

‘How to raise a child as a single parent.’

As soon as he opened the small book, a note fell out of it. Quickly running his eyes across it the man realized it was a reminder for when the owner should request a vacation as well as what kind of local present he should procure.

Not wasting a moment, Ethan rushed back to the computer, inputting relevant dates. At his sixth attempt, the screen lit up. Apparently, even bad guys loved their families; and cliche or not, Ethan would not refuse this gift from the universe.

“Bingo.”

“Well done, Ethan!”

Daniela came to stand behind him as well now, giving him a small bloodied smile of her own. Ethan was just glad to be of use. The alternative to what he just did was Cassandra cutting a swath through the small facility, until she found the relevant person. Even though these people were their enemies, the man was not looking forward to a massacre that would’ve ensued in that scenario.

Ethan grinned as he combed through the now unlocked files. His efforts paid off quickly, as the map of the organization’s regional efforts was right on the desktop. The map was extremely detailed, with numerous points of interest as well as owner’s comments about deadlines of the logistical support required.

Bela’s delicate finger was quick to point at a specific point of interest.

“There! Mother has to be there!”

“Mama! We are coming for you soon! Just hold on!”

The girls' voices could not contain their excitement. They finally had their destination. Cassandra, hearing their loud exclamations, came in herself, her own eyes wide in exhilaration. After almost a week of stumbling in the dark, searching for clues, they were upon their goal, at last.

Ethan downloaded the map onto a small flash drive Bela found in one of the desk’s drawers. More than that, he also made sure to grab a couple of other important-looking documents from the ‘VIP’ named folder. 

The elder sister’s voice was firm as she spoke out, her eyes observing his progress.

“We are done here. It’s time to finally save our mother and pay these people back for what they’ve done to us!”

As the girls traded gleeful smiles and content glances, Ethan noticed a movement in the hall outside, some distance behind Cassandra.

A single guard was muttering something into his headset’s radio even as he raised his pistol, aiming at the brunette’s head.

Rationally, Ethan knew that the simple gun was unlikely to seriously wound the middle Dimitrescu child. Rationality was left in the dust as pure instinct took over. Without thinking, Winters took out his own handgun from the holster, brought it up and took the shot - all in a single, lightning-fast motion that would’ve left even the strict and demanding Chris Redfield grinning proudly.

Ethan himself was surprised as the guard stared back at him with wide eyes, a neat little hole now decorating the man’s forehead, while the wall immediately behind him was coloured red.

As the security officer tumbled down, dead, an alarm rang out across the facility. Cassandra actually shot Ethan an appreciative glance, the man responding with a shaky nod. Taking a life like that was still not easy for him.

Bela gave a nervous little laugh, before stating the obvious.

“Nice shot! I do think we have overstayed our welcome, however! I suggest we retreat the way we came.”

Nobody, except maybe Cassandra, had any objections and the small group promptly escaped the facility all the way back through that skyway. Once again, the darkness of the night and the vicious sandstorm assisted them in avoiding a prolonged and likely bloody fight, as human yells of alert and distress that were accompanied by a monstrous growl rang out just behind the moldy gang.

Navigating back to their armored car, they run into little trouble; only a single guard barring their chosen path. He was promptly dispatched by the brunette sister, who didn’t forget to take both his pistol and his vital fluids, along with his life, as her sharp teeth mutilated yet another hapless jugular.

Thankfully, Millie was exactly where they had left her, waiting for them in the vehicle that was concealed behind a small dune. As soon as the group got in, the short woman pressed hard on the gas pedal.

As the all-terrain vehicle lurched away from the hive of activity that was the HQ they left behind, Bela immediately set to work on deciphering their final destination, using a small PDA Millie was quick to provide.

Only moments later, the group finally had the exact location of the research facility Lady Dimitrescu was being held in. It was mere thirty minutes away from them. Millie wasted no time in charting the course. 

As they drove, uncomfortable, tense silence settled in. Every anxiety and fear the three sisters hid came to the surface with their ultimate goal being so close.

Ethan found his palm clutched tightly by a smaller, warm hand, once again. Looking at the owner of the delicate limb, the man frowned as he saw the blonde woman nibbling on her lip, looking straight forward.

“Nervous?”

“A bit, yes. What if we are too late? What if they will move mother somewhere else before we get there?”

Daniela looked horrified from the spoken notions. Bela glanced at her apologetically, cursing herself for letting her strong facade crack. Cassandra kept silent, likely deep in thought herself.

Ethan squeezed her hand in reassurance. No matter what outcome awaited, the man was determined to offer whatever help or comfort he could. 

“No matter what awaits us there, I want you to know that I’ll stand by your side. All three of you. That, I promise you.”

Despite how short their acquaintance has been, Ethan saw these girls as nothing less than family now and he would do his damndest to make sure they got out of this quest of theirs in one piece. The smile Bela graced him with was all the reason he needed.

***

Mia scoffed in annoyance as she observed the staff scurrying around, desperate to get as much of the sensitive data and research equipment out as humanly possible. 

Ten minutes ago, an evacuation order was given and everyone rushed to comply as soon as they were roughly yanked out of their beds by the security personnel. There was no way they could get everything out by the time the intruders were here. The priorities were quickly assigned, but the mayhem ensued, nevertheless.

A young female lab assistant, still in her nightgown and barefoot, with her long blonde hair in a mess stumbled around with a full crate of documents, before stubbing a toe on a cart, carelessly left in the middle of a corridor. The woman fell down in a heap, with documents flying in every direction. 

A panicked elderly sanitation specialist loudly demanded to know what was happening, only to get a buttstock of a rifle to his stomach for his troubles. His security clearance was too low to know the details, and the guards were ever strict in their discipline. Only the most loyal security personnel were selected for this particular facility.

Nikolai huffed and puffed as he carted a heavy piece of important machinery behind him, desperate to get out of here. Fear was plain on his sweating face. Recalling his previous boisterous remarks, Mia couldn’t help but make a jibe at her passing underling.

“Leaving so soon, Nikolai? Here I thought you were eager to dissect the fly-girls; and here you are - running away from such a golden opportunity!”

The man stopped dead in his tracks and went red in the face. Anger at the insulting remark and fear for his own life battled for dominance for a few moments. Finally, he huffed out, before continuing on his merry way.

“If I had my patented Electrocutioner here with me I’d handle these flies myself! The guards won’t even give me a gun! I am not sticking around to get eaten alive!”

Mia just smirked at the coward, before the next company took her full attention. A beautiful middle-aged woman of Asian descent with two young kids trailing behind her. Yuki Momochi, a colleague all the way from distant Japan. Gentle and soft-spoken but utterly relentless in the pursuit of her own goals. A perfect caretaker for the E-001 prototypes.

Chief scientist gave a polite nod to her colleague and knelt down before the scared and sleepy kids, adopting her own motherly and kind persona.

“Sarah, Haru! I am so sorry for all this chaos! We have some issues to go through here, but don’t you worry your pretty little heads over a thing! Aunt Yuki is gonna get you both to a new safe and nice place! Think about all the fun games you can play with her on the way!”

“Mia is right, kids. We're gonna have ourselves an entire adventure ahead of us! Let’s get going now, shall we?”

Yuki grabbed both kids by their tiny hands and briskly moved ahead to the evacuation zone, a pair of guards shadowing the small company. The kids were too precious to leave unsecured, after all.

Mia gazed upon their shrinking figures with kindness in her eyes, but inside she was fuming. The same moment the evacuation order was given, she had received a personal message herself, from an unidentified source. The content of the message was...disturbing, to say the least.

With the most important assets on their way to safety, the chief scientist marched down towards the subject A-D’s observation room, her own guards trailing behind. A rough hand on her forearm stopped the woman dead in her tracks.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going, Winters? Proceed to the evacuation area, immediately!”

Mia glanced at the brute with cold hatred in her narrowed eyes. Security Chief Gustaf was probably more than a head taller than herself, with almost twice the bulk, but she looked at him as if he were an insignificant gnat. The cleanly-shaved man grit his teeth at her defiant gaze.

“I don’t think so. There is a person I’d like to meet with here. A person I was assured was still in London, safe and secure. So I’ll stick around for a bit. Do proceed with your evacuation or whatever.”

The security commander was less than impressed by her monologue. His pistol found itself pressed hard against Mia’s temple. The woman didn’t even blink as she responded to the violent gesture.

“Oh? What do you think will happen, if you pull that trigger? I don’t think the council would be very pleased, do you?”

Before the brute could respond, the smaller woman yanked her hand out of his slacked grip and promptly went on her way, utterly ignoring his impotent threat. Her mind was focused on other, more important things.

That bastard… All he had to do was sit tight and take care of Rose. But noooo… of course he had to play hero once again. And with these bug-bitches, of all people! That little blonde whore...

Rationally, the woman realized that she had no reason to be mad at Ethan’s newfound love interest. She did tell the man herself to forget about her and find happiness elsewhere. Rationality went out towards the dumpster the moment she saw the elder Dimitrescu girl all over her husband, ravaging his mouth.

When did this start? All the way back in Romania? That bastard. I bet he got Rose herself into this mess, as well! All my fucking sacrifices - for nothing!

The moment Mia entered the observation room, she stomped right inside the cell itself, her seething eyes glaring holes into its diminished occupant. The guards that used to be stationed here were elsewhere now, as they were no longer deemed necessary. It was just Mia; her three personal guards that glanced at each other warily, their hands unsteady on their rifles; and the so-called Lady herself.

At such a short notice, they couldn’t possibly move the still somewhat dangerous prisoner. Especially since Sebastian assigned her as a low-priority after the E-001 prototypes were deemed ready for the next stage. His foolishness and short-sightedness was truly astounding to Mia when that decision happened, yesterday.

Alcina was nothing short of a miracle in human shape, yet her potential scientific significance was the last thing on Mia’s mind, as right now the emotions reigned over rational thoughts.

Dimitrescu looked at her with that same maddening, unbreakable defiance, saying nothing. Mia just gave the prisoner a nasty smirk, as she folded her arms and simply observed the captive woman.

I’ll make these bitches pay for roping Ethan and Rose into this.

Notes:

A bit of an intermission chapter with some stealth segment in. Hope you have enjoyed it and are excited for the next one!

Next chapter will be basically a finale of the first Arc, so I'll probably take longer to write it, I do want it done properly :)

Also, Evie is not gone or forgotten, but she did exhaust her essence on fixing up Ethan, so she is in a type of restorative hibernation for the moment.

As always, I'd love to read any of the thoughts on the chapters you might have!

Chapter 20: Confronting the Past

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Sebastian was livid as the latest report from Nightcrawler came in.

A clusterfuck of massive proportions! Why couldn’t these fucking freaks just die already and spare me the goddamn headache!

Both Styx and Santiago were gone and the mutants were likely mere thirty minutes away from the R&D facility where Mia herself was. 

The moment he heard the report, Sebastian had instructed the good security officer there to stand his ground and delay the bug-bitches as much as possible. Chief Gustaf was a solid and reliable man, but he and his goons stood little chance against the bloodthirsty B.O.W.s - a fact Sebastian understood well. The executive will toast to the brave man’s courage tonight.

There was only one asset that could respond in a timely manner and hope to best the formidable freaks that was left in the region. The tall man in an expensive suit pondered whether it was worth using it.

Mia is resourceful. She would get both herself and the E-001 out, I don’t doubt that… But should I squander the opportunity to dispose of these pests? I am not looking forward to the amount of ass-kissing I’ll need to do… Then again, if I can put a stop to these freaks, the council will be pleased immensely. They have already caused way too much mayhem. I am starting to look in a really bad light from all these…’accidents’.

Sebastian nodded to himself, before gathering his wits and contacting an unsavory person with a satellite phone. As the call connected, the man spoke in a polite and submissive tone, to his own chagrin.

“Good evening, Director Dowell. I beg forgiveness for disturbing you at this late hour during your private time, but the situation is exceptionally...ahm... time-sensitive.” The executive paused for a moment, hearing a gruff reply, before clearing his throat and continuing.

“I, on behalf of my organization, formally request immediate access to the B.S.A.A. Replica platoon stationed in Mauritania, for the purpose of elimination of a...ahm...a potential B.O.W. outbreak in one of our facilities. I understand that this is a tall order, especially on such a short notice, but rest assured that your many contributions towards global safety will not go...unrewarded.”

A tense pause followed, until a confirmation was given, making Sebastian let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Politely ending the call, the tall man poured himself some cognac as he lounged in his silky-soft armchair. 

The price of this favor will no doubt prove to be exorbitant, as so many palms would need to be greased, not to mention Frank Dowell’s own infamous appetites. Still, it was worth it, in the end. Having these freaks running around, causing havoc was proving to be most...embarrassing.

***

With the sandstorm left behind the moldy gang, the large vehicle crossed the rest of the distance towards their final destination with little trouble. No brutal chase or a violent ambush occurred, somewhat surprisingly. Everyone in the armored car half-expected to fight tooth and nail to get to their goal. 

Before long, the Duke’s team arrived at a small, abandoned town that once used to be a prosperous mining community, but like so many of its kind was left behind as the valuable resources ran dry. According to their stolen map, this ghost town, or more precisely - the mines below it, now served as The Connections R&D facility.

Leaving the car behind, the small group proceeded on foot, Millie joining them this time. The shorter, black-haired woman trailed behind, eyes narrowed in alertness. 

Even though the first rays of the sun could be seen on the horizon, the night was still dark and visibility was almost non-existent. Every dilapidated shack they passed could’ve hid aggressors in them, making Ethan himself tense as he clutched his pistol tightly.

The Dimitrescu siblings' keen eyes were tracking every shadow, their amber orbs almost glowing in the darkness around. All three girls were also armed, not just with their melee weaponry, but with pistol sidearms, as well.

Nobody spoke or exchanged pleasantries as the moldy gang ventured deeper into the abandoned town. Wind, creaking wood and some unidentified nocturnal animal’s noises were the only sounds that accompanied the party as they neared the foreboding mines. 

Ethan suppressed a shiver as he gazed into the abyss that was the darkened mine’s entrance. After Dulvey and that Romanian valley, he was hoping to never step foot in such a place again, yet here he was. At least this time, he was not alone - neither in presence, nor in sentiment.

Both Daniela and Millie stared inside the darkness with apprehension, fear clearly visible on their faces. The latter’s woman's previously tough facade was completely shattered now as her metallic grey eyes were wide with nervous anxiety. 

Even Cassandra, normally so eager for bloodshed, appeared to be somewhat unnerved as she clutched her sickle and the looted handgun possessively with her gloved fingers.

Inwardly, Bela was quite uncomfortable herself, yet outwardly she alone presented a calm and strong front in this small group. Dismissing every worry that gnawed on her heart, the woman took a firm step forward, breaking everyone else out of their own trance-like uncertainties.

The tense group shared a couple of reassuring nods and glances before entering the forlorn cavern.

The narrow, claustrophobic passages that followed brought little comfort or reassurance. Their only source of light was a small flashlight that was clutched in Ethan’s sweaty palm.

Following along the main tunnel, the group kept wary of the numerous, half-collapsed mine shafts branching out along the way. Both Daniela and Millie jumped from every shadow, seeing an enemy at every turn. 

A barely-perceptible motion at the edge of his flashlight’s path caused Daniela to loudly gasp in fright, making Ethan himself sweat.

“Just a rat.”

Bela’s voice was firm, yet Ethan could feel that unmistakable hint of fear in it, nevertheless. 

Finally, the group made it to some kind of a central chamber of the mine. Opposite of them, in stark contrast of everything else in this abandoned mining town, was a modern, bulkhead-like door. Numerous shafts branched out from this central location, making Ethan feel even less safe than before. This was a prime spot for an ambush.

The man rose a single palm up, motioning the rest to stop. Cassandra nodded in understanding before pointedly looking at Bela, eyes questioning. The blonde sister just smirked, before her left pinky finger transformed into a dozen or so flies, which were remarkably more silent than their usual buzzing insects. The flies promptly dispersed along the shafts, staying close to the ceiling, unseen and unheard.

Ethan gazed at Bela in silent fascination as she stood still with her eyes closed, deep in focus. Before long, her flies returned, reforming the pinky once again. The woman’s smirk grew into a grin as she pointed her finger first at the rightmost shaft from the position, then towards the leftmost one.

“Four men, all armed, waiting for us.”

“I’ll gut the cowards to the right.”

Cassandra was ever eager. Before Ethan could volunteer himself, Bela beat him to a punch. She looked at him with firm determination as she spoke. 

“I’ll handle the ones to the left, then. Watch that door, Ethan. I doubt whoever is behind it will take kindly to us slaying their friends.”

The two older Dimitrescu took to their swarms once more, before swiftly gliding to their assigned shafts. Less than a minute later, yells of distress sounded out, which soon morphed into cries of pain and then everything returned to silence, once more. Just like that, four lives were taken, in mere moments. Ethan could only gulp at how deadly the sisters were, especially in such cramped quarters.

He had no time to ponder about the Dimitrescu daughter’s lethality, however, as the bulkhead hissed open. Ethan wasted not a moment as he took aim and fired, with remarkable precision, that once again surprised the man himself. A guard tumbled forward, dead, likely not even realizing what had happened. 

Two more stepped out, undaunted by the death of their comrade, small grenade launchers held out and aimed right at Ethan.

The blonde man’s eyes widened in shock as two deadly canisters were hurled both to the right and to the left of him, leaving no opportunity for escape and enough time only for a single thought.

Is this the end?

What had happened next was even more mind-blowing. Mere inches from their intended impact points, the grenades stopped dead in the air, as if an invisible hand grasped them. A moment later they both were redirected and relaunched, by that same intangible force, back towards their original owners. This time they impacted with a clung, spreading poison gas that quickly made the security officers choke to death, an expression of horrified disbelief frozen on their faces.

“The fuck..?”

Daniela’s shocked gasp behind him mirrored his own vocalized surprise, implying that she had nothing to do with that miraculous event.

Ethan had no time to process his mysterious salvation as three more guards rushed out - these ones armed with shock batons and equipped with solid-looking body armor, as well as gas masks. He was quick to squeeze a couple of shots with his 9mm pistol, but the kevlar vests they wore allowed them to shrug the small rounds off, even as they closed the distance.

Cursing, the man had only a moment to discard his handgun for the magnum and only a single shot to make before his attackers were upon him. He made it count, as the guard to the left fell in a heap, a massive hole where his heart used to be. Ethan barely had time to dodge the swing from the second guard’s shock baton.

The last guard, a particularly large and powerful-looking man, was aiming to rectify the error of his predecessor. The brute’s sparkling weapon was on a direct collision course with Ethan’s head and the man could do nothing but put his hands in the way - just like he did so many times in the past.

The blow that came knocked more than the wind from his lungs. The electricity ravaged his body as it was flung away from the sheer force behind the violent motion, tumbling down in a spasming heap a couple of steps away. To add insult to injury, Ethan’s magnum was knocked far away, out of reach. The bulky guard wasted no time in closing the distance and raising his baton for a killing blow.

Instead, a piercing shriek resounded across the central chamber, so powerful that it momentarily disoriented both guards, as well as Ethan himself, making him clutch his own ears in pain. Not a moment later, Daniela was standing protectively over his downed frame, her narrowed amber eyes filled with rage.

“Get your filthy hands off him!”

Recovering from the sonic assault, the last standing guards traded quick nods, resolute to finish this fight on their terms. Unfortunately, caught in the moment, they’ve forgotten all about the other two sisters. 

With their own squad of ten reduced to mere two, they suddenly found themselves surrounded by three sisters with bloodlust in their burning eyes. Whatever resolve they had crumbled the moment they realized their predicament. The smaller guard dropped his shock baton and raised his palms up.

“I surrender! I…”

The three daughters would have none of it, however. There was no mercy to be found upon their blood-smeared visages, not today, not here.

In a whirlwind of black chitin and flashing steel, they were upon their victims. Nothing but mutilated and lifeless corpses were left behind as the Dimitrescu siblings finished their grim work in mere moments.

Once again finding his limbs responsive, the man did not miss a beat in raising up to his feet, recovering his previously-discarded weapons in the process. His muscles still burned from the electric current that went through them and his ears ringed from Daniela’s inhuman screech, but he’s gone through worse. Millie’s firm voice placed the stupefying occurrence with the grenades as well as his most recent brush with death to the back of his mind, for now.

“Everyone’s alright? Let’s get going then, it’s only a matter of time until this location is swarming with enemy forces.”

As they proceeded inside the facility itself, both Bela and Daniela immediately went to Ethan’s side, worry in their eyes. The man probably looked worse than he felt, with his spike-like static hair and seared clothing. He was quick to reassure the girls with a smile and a nod.

The group pressed on, now walking through the modern-looking halls and rooms, in stark contrast to the previous unlit and foreboding passages. The facility appeared to be deserted in a hurry, with random crates of equipment laying around and documents scattered all over the place.

Whether out of sense of self-preservation or simply because there were none left - nobody else impeded the battle-weary and bloodied group as they made their way across the seemingly abandoned underground base.

Upon reaching what appeared to be an office space, with several glassed rooms, Millie curtly split from the group, saying only that she would rejoin them later. Bela’s narrowed eyes burned holes in the dark-haired woman’s back, even as the rest went further yet. Ethan himself could finally appreciate the elder daughter’s distrust of the Duke’s right-hand woman. Something was definitely off about her. That was a quandary for later, though.

Soon, the group reached a wide passageway that went downward, even deeper below. At the end of the long hallway a pair of massive doors were open wide, as in greeting, allowing entrance into the next, final chamber.

Ethan felt the tension in the air mount as their small team crossed that threshold. The Dimitrescu girls shared his apprehension as their bloodsoaked sickles were clenched tightly and their mouths set in firm lines.

What greeted the moldy gang in the observation-like room was more than a little unnerving. To the right, in the middle of the room, an entrance into a lone cell was visible. Straight ahead, four people waited for them.

Ethan’s grip on his pistol tightened, as a trio of guards took aim at him from the opposite side of the room, but held fire. A woman in a white lab coat stood behind them, with her side towards the group as she observed the cell through the glass. Her long brown hair obscured her face from view, but Ethan’s blood chilled in his veins as she spoke in a confident voice that he recognized instantly.

“Hello, Ethan.”

The man was incapable of speech for a moment. 

True, Ethan was searching for his wife, but somehow, the situation here staggered him with the sheer wrongness of it. 

Mia did not look like a captive or an involuntary worker. Her regal stance and air of confidence immediately betrayed her as something more than a mere prisoner. 

“Mia…?”

His voice was weak, unsure. The man couldn’t suppress a shiver as his wife kept staring through that glass, not gracing him with a look or a further word. Nobody moved an inch for two more tense seconds, everyone trying to get a read on the situation.

Cassandra made the next move. Her voice was full of violent rage and murder was plain in her narrowed eyes. The panicky guards swirled their sub-machine guns her way, their hands shaking in obvious fear. Mia didn’t even blink.

“What the hell are we waiting for? Slaughter these worms and get to mother!”

The powerful middle sibling made a motion to do so herself, her sickle crying out for the blood of those who had wronged her so. Mere seconds later, the observation room would’ve run red with fresh human blood, if not for a dainty hand on Cassandra’s wrist, stopping her dead in her tracks.

“Wait, Cass!”

The brunette growled, but obliged her elder sibling, for a moment.

In truth, Bela herself was dying to mutilate these spiteful humans that dared to run their vile experiments on her beloved mother, but she held herself, as well as Cassandra back, as she heard that single, whispered by Ethan, name. She owed that man too much to take away his chance to reconcile with his wife, no matter how heinous the woman in a white coat appeared to be.

“You mother is one strong woman, I have to admit. She was waiting for you all this time, never giving up hope, and here you are! Her little rescuers, here, at last!” Mia spoke with obvious mockery in her voice, even as she pointed her index finger inside the cell she still observed. “Lady Dimitrescu, I believe you have some visitors today! Do go in, girls!”

Something was clearly suspicious and doubt gnawed on Bela’s mind, but it was completely overshadowed by her desire to see Alcina once again, so she dismissed it all as the trio of girls rushed into the cell, to behold their dear mother, once again.

Daniela shot Mia a nasty glare as she walked in; while Cassandra slowly slid her finger across her throat as she locked her gaze with each of the guards, in turn, almost making them piss their pants in fear at her blood-soaked visage and the obvious death threat.

Ethan was left alone with Mia and her security detail in the observation room. Gasps of shock and cries of joy were heard from the cell, but Ethan only had attention for the woman in a white lab coat, for the moment. She finally turned to level her own judging gaze at him. Her tone was more biting than ever before.

“And so a hero arrives to rescue a damsel in distress, once again! My, my, how you’ve grown into that role, Ethan.”

It was beyond obvious that she was not happy that he was here. The man, still pointing his own gun at the cowed guards finally found his wit at that mocking remark.

“What the fuck is going on Mia!? Why in God’s name are you here!?”

The woman looked taken back for a moment at his accusing tone, some fire in her eyes dying to give way to remorse.

“I am sorry, Ethan. There were… a couple of things I hid from you, all this time - for your own benefit! I was… a bit more than merely Eveline’s caretaker. In a way, she was my child, as well.”

Bitch, please. You never looked at me once as if I were your daughter.

Eveline’s sudden voice in his head made Ethan’s own thoughts scatter around even more. He felt uncharacteristic rage grip his heart as he stared at his wife with disbelief.

“Really, Mia? More lies, after everything I’ve been through for us? For you!? And you never thought I deserved to know about your past? All this could’ve been avoided!”

The shorter woman's eyes narrowed at that. She folded her arms and spoke, with  her tone sharp and biting once again.

“You don’t get it, Ethan. The truth would’ve seen me rotting away in a prison with a life sentence or ten. And the notion that you think this could’ve been avoidable betrays your ignorance, I am afraid.”

Ethan could only grip his pistol tightly, even as guards kept pointing their own SMGs at him. The man grit his teeth as she continued, speaking like a professor giving a lecture to a bunch of unruly students, with derision.

“And this is the root of the issue… You really should’ve done as I asked, Ethan. Kept Rose safe and happy in London. Maybe found yourself a nice girl to keep you two company. A nice human girl.” Mia’s features hardened even further at that, as she took a moment to throw one hateful glance towards the cell’s occupants, before continuing.

“Instead, you came all the way, fancying yourself a savior. But do you even know what you’ve achieved? Nothing.”

The finality in that last word sent shivers throughout the man’s body, yet his conviction was hardly overturned.

“Nothing!? We are free to leave this place now, Mia! The girls get their mother back! That’s all the reason I ever needed to come here, and more!”

The woman only shook her head, while giving him a mocking grin and a mirthless chuckle.

“Ah...how I long to be that naive again! Truly, ignorance is bliss.”

“What the hell are you talking about!?” Ethan was getting tired of her empty mockery. They didn’t have time for this. Mia just inspected her nails as she responded calmly.

“It’s my fault, I suppose. I tried to shield you from the harsh world. And now, here you are - absolutely clueless about what you’ve stumbled into.” The woman leveled a harsh glare at him, as she spoke her next words with venom.

“The only thing you’ve achieved with your little escapades is disturbed a hornet’s nest. Whatever you’ve seen along the way was merely the tip of the iceberg. You have absolutely no fucking idea about the true power and influence the people whose ire you drew with your actions wield. Free to leave this place and go where, Ethan? There is nowhere we can hide now that you’ve pissed them off. ”

Ethan did suspect as much, however, yet he was undaunted.

“So they are powerful. So what? There are still plenty of good people who are willing to help us out. No enemy is insurmountable. Everyone has a weakness.”

Mia finally lost her composure at that. Her rage was shocking.

“YOU STUPID BASTARD! It’s not enough for you to risk your own life, but Rose’s too!? You did drag her into this, you know!? All I ever wanted was for her to grow up free and happy!”

“She still can…” Ethan’s voice was hardly most steadfast, as he did not expect that level of vehemence. Mia interrupted him promptly in her angry tirade.

“No, idiot, she can’t! Rose will be forever hunted because of you now! I did everything in my fucking power to conceal her true nature. But now… everyone will see how her fucking dad walked off being shot in the head. You dumb bastard…”

Guess someone filmed that little stunt. Oops.

Mia still wasn’t done.

“And your new whore of a girlfriend and her little mama? Every fucking bounty hunter on the planet will be on their asses now. Good job saving everyone, Ethan. You truly outdid yourself this time.”

The conviction and passion of her tirade actually made Ethan himself doubt his chosen course of action. Before he could answer, however, a growl of rage came from the cell. Cassandra was not happy.

“You bitch. I don’t give a fuck about who you slept with, I am going to tear you apart for what you have done to mom.”

Mia was waiting for just that reaction, however, and her clenched fist promptly slammed on a big red button that was right next to her, making Ethan believe that she chose that specific location intentionally.

Not a moment passed as the sprinklers in that cell activated, showering the small room in greenish liquid. Screams of anguish, followed by the thudding sound of bodies hitting the floor, made Ethan grip his gun even tighter, still aiming it at the closest guard. The idea that his wife had just hurt Bela and her sisters made his blood boil in his veins.

“What the fuck have you done!?”

Mia gave him a nasty smirk, before answering.

“Scared for the little bug-bitch, you scum? Don’t worry. This strain of neurotoxin was designed to be non-lethal. She'll be fine as long as she receives an anti-dote in time. A-fly-in-a-bottle kind of fine.”

The man couldn’t believe this cruel woman was the same one he had loved for so many years. The one he went to hell and back for. The one that had borne his child.

“Why are you doing this, Mia? Just stop! Let’s talk this over!”

She just frowned and folded her arms once again.

“Talk what over, Ethan? It’s over. The only way forward is to submit. I am doing this for us, and more importantly, I am doing this for Rose. I’ve won quite a bit of leverage in the last week. They can still leave you and our daughter alone, if I can prove to them that I am worth more. Just sit tight until their forces get here and let me do the talking. Everything will turn out fine then…We can be happy again, the three of us! Think of that!”

Ethan inched closer, slowly, to not provoke the twitchy guards. The man positioned himself near the entrance to the cell and gave the bodies there a look. 

Lady Alcina, a mere shadow of her former self, greatly diminished in both size and stature was tied to an operating table, turned up almost 90 degrees, placing the gaunt woman in a vertical position. Her three daughters were lying on the floor around her, in obvious pain as the neurotoxin did its grim work on their bodies. Bela was looking at him with a pleading expression.

Ethan glared back at Mia. 

“What about them, then? What happens to them, huh?”

Mia sighed in annoyance before responding.

“What do you think? I know you’re not a stupid man, Ethan. Alcina herself can revolutionize medicinal science as we know it. A small sacrifice, for the greater good. Her ‘daughters’, however… I do not think we need them… and after all the havoc they’ve caused… A colleague of mine has expressed interest in a dissection; I see no reason not to oblige, not anymore.”

Cold rage burned within, begging to be unleashed now. Ethan could barely contain it at this point.

“I can’t let you do that, Mia.”

The woman had rage of her own as she responded with that biting snark.

“Oh? So even after everything I’ve told you, you’re still not willing to let that little fling of yours go? You would endanger everything, just to keep these filthy mutants alive? You still don’t get it, do you? You. Simply. Cannot. Win.”

The woman hissed the last four words with more venom than Ethan ever heard in his life. Regardless of that, he would not stand aside and let Bela, Cassandra and Daniela be sacrificial pawns in some deal with the devil. He refused to do that. 

The husband did something he never expected himself to do. He aimed his pistol at Mia next. Ethan said nothing but the conviction in his eyes spoke louder than words.

The shorter woman narrowed her own eyes as the gun barrel was pointing her way now. Mia voice was deathly quiet, barely audible.

“I see that your betrayal goes beyond a mere fling. Know that I truly do love you, Ethan, but I simply cannot let your pride and your... obsession endanger our daughter. I do this for her. I am truly sorry it came to this.”

Ethan traded one last glance with Mia, his wife of almost ten years, as her next cruel words put a definite end to their loving relationship.

“Kill him.”

The shock Ethan felt from the finality of that simple sentence was enough to cause him to hesitate for a moment, while the three guards obeyed the order immediately, their sub-machine guns filling him with lead.

Many of the small-caliber rounds were deflected by his body armor, yet the sheer amount of them pushed him hard against the wall, breaking ribs and rupturing organs. His unprotected arms and legs were perforated by numerous impacts, causing agony to spike all throughout his body. A single round to the side of the neck made him gurgle out blood. 

Two seconds later, the guards ceased fire. Ethan felt like collapsing, yet something kept him standing, leaning against the wall, instead.

Jeez, how many favors do you want to owe me, daddy? Kill them already! KILL THEM ALL!

A powerful spike of invigorating energy shot out from his black, molded heart, energizing the muscles far beyond the norm and tripling the potency of his adrenaline. Black mold rushed forward from his veins to take over the severed muscles, temporarily restoring functionality to his limbs.

Despite how ravaged from this assault his body was, his mind has achieved a striking clarity of purpose, making time pass as if in slow motion.

With strength and speed he did not know he possessed, the critically injured man lifted his gun up, once again. In a lightning-fast movement that defied the limits imposed by human frame, Ethan dropped two guards that stood next to each other dead before the third one could even blink.

The last guard, nevertheless, aimed his SMG at Ethan’s head now, determined to finish the monster off. Whether from divine intervention or from the simple fact that the man in question took a smoke during a sandstorm, his gun jammed at that most critical of moments.

“Fuck.” was his last mumbled out word as Ethan adjusted his aim, dropping the guard dead with a clean headshot.

It was just Mia and Ethan left standing now.

The woman nibbled on her lips as she beheld the bloodied form of her vengeful husband, now aiming his deadly gun at her, once again.

“I can see that dear Eveline is being most helpful for once...curious. It won’t change anything, in the end, however.”

Just kill her daddy! KILL THE BITCH!!!

Ethan, ignoring the violent voice, only cared about one thing at that moment.

“The antidote, give it to me, Mia.”

The woman scoffed, but produced four syringes from her lab coat pocket. She placed them on a table nearby, before turning away from the husband. Not sparing him another glance, completely unafraid, Mia proceeded to use a pass card on another door, closer to her. 

She is getting away! Kill her now! NOW!!!

But Ethan simply couldn’t end the mother of his child, especially after hearing her twisted logic that, nevertheless, made some sense to him. He knew Mia spoke the truth when she claimed that all of her actions were for Rose’s sake. If not for Dimitrescus, he might have even yielded to her desires.

Before the door closed behind her frame, Mia couldn’t help but let out one last biting remark.

“You’re just making it harder, Ethan.”

You’ll regret that small act of mercy, you know? She will make you regret it.

The husband just scoffed, as he rushed towards the four syringes left behind by his dear wife. Wasting no time, he hurried into the cell before injecting them into the hearts of the four paralyzed Dimitrescu women, one at a time. 

Not a moment after using the last syringe on Lady Alcina herself, his body promptly reminded him that he just, did in fact, receive 16 penetrating gunshot wounds, with 9 rounds still stuck inside his hands and legs. The unnatural energy that sustained him for the last minute was gone as swiftly as it arrived, leaving him dry and utterly sapped of strength. The man collapsed in a heap, not a single muscle obeying his commands. His job was done, however, and his prone form sighed in relief.

Thanks, Evie… you’re a lifesaver.

You’re...welcome....Ugh... so tired…need...a nap...

As darkness took them both, the man could only hope that his efforts were not in vain, after all.

Notes:

This will be one big author note :S

Firstly, sorry for the delay, but not only I was thinking hard about which direction I want to take this story to, I also reviewed my work chapter-by-chapter, fixing some typos, adding a couple of extra lines here and there, splitting paragraphs - hopefully improving the reading experience overall, for anyone else who would want to give this story a try.

This chapter marks the end of arc I (Rescue Alcina), with arc II adding more actors to the stage, as well as finally taking Bela/Ethan relationship to the next stage. The next villainous force which I mentioned at start of this chapter will be a bit of guest from some other game, but I do feel like it would be an exceptionally good fit for RE universe. I also did consider some feedback, and decided to add Chris/Cassandra relationship tag :P (Sorry Jill! :S)

I hope this chapter was worth the wait and provided satisfactory conclusion to the first part of this story. It was a bit bloodier than i first intended, but I felt like it was warranted, in the end. Hopefully, next chapter will not take a week to write :D I Imagine it will be mostly from Bela's PoV and will contain deeper insights at what exactly happened to Alcina and what awaits the moldy gang next.

I also want to express my deepest gratitude here for all the amazing comments you've left me along the way, my dear readers! Know that I truly appreciate each and every one of them and they do brighten my day immensely! If you have any questions, theories or suggestions, always feel free to share!

Chapter 21: The Non-Aggression Principle

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

With her body paralyzed, Bela could do nothing but think. The encounter that had just occurred before her was simply stupefying.

Mia Winters, Ethan’s own wife, was behind her mother’s current condition. That fact alone made Bela’s black blood boil in her veins. Helpless as she was, the blonde woman could do nothing but listen to the confrontation and pray that it would work out in their favor.

The despair was quick to set in once Mia offered Ethan a way out - to leave the Dimitrescu family behind and rejoin his own. Surely the man would’ve chosen his wife over the doomed siblings in their fight against an implacable foe, despite everything they’ve been through.

Except he didn’t.

Once again defying all logic and common sense, Ethan Winters chose to oppose his own wife and her three guards, all in defense of the incapacitated siblings. Against all odds, he emerged victorious too, though grievously wounded. Aiding the four Dimitrescu women was his last act before his much-abused body finally gave out.

The moment Bela regained control of her own frame was the moment she leapt to her feet, her sharp eyes immediately locking onto Ethan’s still body. The injuries he sustained in his heedless defense of them were more than merely grievous. They were lethal - several times over. Bela could only thank whatever deity was listening as she noticed that his chest still moved in heavy, labored breaths.

The blonde woman took off his heavy body armor first. It served him well, protecting his vitals against gunfire, yet now it would just be an inconvenience. Next came his formidable arsenal of weaponry, discarded without a thought. Duke would understand. 

Out of medicine herself and knowing that the man needed immediate attention, the blonde sister willed her left hand into a swarm, which then proceeded to search the area for any kind of first aid. Thankfully, a bottle of Green Herb-derived gel was just inside the observation room wall-mounted first aid kit.

Before her insects returned, with gel in tow, Bela felt compelled to take one more glance at her poor mother. Cassandra was up as well and already working hard on breaking the metal restraints, making the elder sister grateful for her younger sibling’s resilience. 

Bela couldn’t help but shudder as she once again beheld her mother’s form. The noble, powerful, enormous Dimitrescu matriarch was now...this gaunt, frail-looking little woman, dressed in a torn white hospital gown. Her pristinely kept hair was now a tangled and dirty mess of long locks that wouldn’t look out of place on some Asian horror movie character. The exposed skin on her face and arms was covered by an unhealthy amount of rashes. Only her eyes still sparkled with that same noble defiance Alcina was known for.

She is so… vulnerable… It’s our turn to protect you, mother… I won’t fail you this time. I swear it on my own life.

As her flies returned, she focused on the man who had sacrificed so much for them, once again. Mother would be fine. Ethan was the one who so desperately needed aid now. Her keen eyes were quick to inspect the man with clinical, almost professional detachment, born out of years of practice.

His neck cried out for immediate attention, so the woman was swift in applying the gel to the area, hoping that his molded body would do the rest. The bleeding stopped, so her hopes were not in vain. Nevertheless, the torn flesh showed no signs of mending, making it clear that Ethan’s moldy regeneration had reached its limit.

Next, Bela’s sharp eyes counted fifteen additional bullet holes with only six exit wounds, making the elder daughter gasp at the realization - nine projectiles were still inside of him.

Healing him now would condemn him to unbearable pain, in addition to crippling the man until the metal bits could be removed. After applying gel to the six fully-penetrated wounds, Bela had no choice but to do that for the other ones.

Before starting, the blonde woman let out a relieved breath as it appeared Ethan was fully unconscious now. A small mercy, as she was not looking forward to inflicting this kind of agony upon him.

Now committed to her chosen course, the tips of all ten of her fingers became blowflies, the most deft ones out of her entire swarm. Looking up towards the now standing redhead, who couldn’t decide on whom to focus her own erratic gaze, Bela quietly spoke, in an authoritative voice: “Assist me, Daniela.”

The youngest was at her side in an instant, looking eager to help in any way she could.

“Apply a ninth of what’s left in this bottle into every wound after I am done with it, please.”

Not waiting for confirmation, Bela started her work, with her eyes closed and every fiber of her being focused fully on the task at hand. 

The tiny but powerful insects made their way inside the first gunshot wound. With uncanny strength, their miniscule feeding tubes chewed and sucked through the tissue in which the bullet and its fragments were stuck. The flies’ efforts quickly freed the metal shards from their fleshy prisons, which then were easily pried out by the agile insects. Daniela, seeing the blowflies vacate the wound, with bullet fragments in tow, promptly applied some gel into it, hopefully disinfecting and sealing the injury. 

Repeating the intense procedure eight more times, the elder daughter finally opened her hazy eyes, sighing in obvious relief as her flies returned to reform the fingertips. She might’ve made it look easy, but it was anything but that. Directing her deftest flies, with both speed and precision, to inflict the least possible amount of damage to the tissue as they pulled the metal bits out was exerting to the point of sweat that now poured down her tattooed forehead.

Looking up towards her family, she gave them a tired smirk as they all watched her in silent fascination, keeping quiet all throughout the procedure, knowing how important focus was for the ‘operation’. Wasn’t the first time Bela had to play doctor with a human patient. Far from it.

Bela knew that the extent of Ethan’s injuries went beyond what she had just fixed, yet she did all she could for his internal damage. The blonde woman could only hope that it would be enough to get him to a proper medical facility in time.

Raising up to her feet, the eldest sister did not miss a beat in rushing towards the now freed Alcina and embracing her in a loving hug. A gesture she performed a great many times, yet today it felt...unusual. Most unusual, indeed.

Before, Bela would barely reach mother’s abdomen, now her hands were engulfing the smaller woman’s frame. As curious as that was, that didn’t really matter to the elder daughter as tears were freely spilling from her eyes. Alcina eagerly embraced her child back.

“Mother… I am so sorry we were so late… if only we could’ve caught up to these people back in Cuba… you wouldn't have to go through this nightmare…”

Alcina squeezed Bela hard at that. Or it would’ve been hard if she wasn’t so damn weak right now. The elder daughter tightened her own hold, tears mixing with blood on her ruined black shirt.

“How can you be so harsh on yourself, my dearest? I still can’t believe my own eyes to see you three here, my precious little flies, crossing half the world for their foolish old mother…”

Cassandra would have none of it. She snapped with such intense passion in her voice that even Bela was pleasantly surprised.

“How can you say that, mom!? You took care of us for so long… you gave us life, shelter, purpose! How could we not do the same for you in your own hour of need? We owe everything to you!

The middle child rushed to join their embrace, her own bloodied eyes glinting from fresh wetness. Alcina’s hoarse response was unsteady, as her emotions ran rampant, as well.

“My dearest daughters… What did I ever do to deserve you… How can I protect you now… like this?”

It was Daniela’s turn. Her uncharacteristically fierce yet still high-pitched voice filled the cell as she completed their family’s reunion.

“You don’t need to protect us anymore, mama! You did it for so long! From both Miranda and everyone else who wanted to do us harm! Let us return the favor, please!”

Even though there were a few things Bela still felt bitter about, right now, she felt nothing but warmth and affection as their whole family clutched together. Regardless of Alcina’s current state and questionable past deeds, the three daughters still felt unconditional love towards her. They were determined to keep her safe, now.

Unknowingly to Dimitrescus, Ethan has regained consciousness shortly after Bela finished her procedure on him and was listening to their passionate reunion in respectable silence, his own heart melting at their genuine outpour of emotions. 

He had no doubts that he had made the right choice now. Despite his obvious desire to return to being happy together with Mia and Rose, just the three of them -  he knew that it was a mere dream now, never to become reality once again. The man was almost content as he gazed upon the blonde vampire that was now holding her family in such a warm embrace.

As much as Bela herself wanted to remain in this position forever, she knew that time was against them. The elder daughter gently broke their embrace, and muttered softly, even as she graced her loved ones with a serene smile.

“We cannot tarry, I am afraid… no telling when our foes will be back for our heads. Let us make our way to the surface, hopefully the Duke’s escape vehicle will be waiting for us… I’ll carry Ethan.

A million questions rushed through Alcina’s mind, as she heard the affection at that crass man’s name in her beloved daughter's spoken words, yet the woman knew that there would be a time and place for them later. 

The noble lady made a motion to step forward, yet her weak, jelly-like legs betrayed her and she would’ve promptly collapsed on the floor, if not for a pair of firm hands quickly steadying her. 

Both Cassandra and Daniela held her securely with their hands under her arms and worry in their soft amber eyes. How Alcina hated her weakened body at that moment. To rely on the strength of others was a painful reminder of her old human life, filled with nothing but bitterness and regret. More than that, to burden her own children with her weakness was a completely alien feeling to her. She felt bile coming to her throat as she whispered, dejectedly.

“Oh...to be such a burden on my beautiful daughters…” 

“Stop it, mom! You can never be a burden to us!”

Cassandra’s firm voice brooked no argument, especially with Daniela nodding vigorously, fully supporting her older sister’s statement.

Bela could only smile gently at Cassandra’s words as she knelt before Ethan’s broken body. The man surprised her by giving her a sheepish but clearly pained grin. The tall woman didn’t expect him to be awake… Blackish-red liquid trickled down his mouth as he spoke... blood, mixed with liquid mold.

“We should stop meeting like that, Bells…”

“Hush, Ethan, don’t talk. Your internal damage is beyond even your mold to fix. But, I’ll get you out of here…”

Not hesitating, Bela gently but firmly placed her arms around his back and legs. Ethan hissed in pain as his wounds were disturbed by the motion, with the blonde woman giving an apologetic wince before lifting him up.

Despite the horrific, world-turning events that had just transpired the man felt himself completely safe in her tender but strong arms. Still, Ethan felt heat creeping up to his dirtied cheeks at this awkward position he suddenly found himself in. 

“Come... on... Bells, I can walk by myself...ugh. Just slap some... green herb on me...”

In truth, even speaking hurt and his legs felt like deadweight, with muscles unresponding. Nevertheless, swallowing one’s masculine pride was not something easily done. Bela would have none of it, however.

“Shush, Ethan! I’ve seen firsthand the extent of your injuries as I treated them! Your mold-based regeneration is completely exhausted!” Not hearing any more arguments from the man in her arms, Bela glanced back towards the other Dimitrescu women.

“Let’s get moving, girls, the faster we get the hell out of here - the better!”

And so the small group proceeded, slowly and steadily leaving the cell and its observation room. Cassandra was their vanguard, armed and dangerous as she prowled ahead, checking for threats. Bela was next, carrying blushing Ethan, bridal style. Finally, their little column was concluded by huddled forms of Alcina and Daniela, the latter carefully supporting the smaller woman.

Peeking behind her shoulder, Bela couldn’t suppress a small gulp at this incredulous, unbelievable sight - she still was so shocked by it! Daniela - their little Daniela, was now towering over her mother!

The moldy gang reached the bulkhead doors that led out of this accursed facility in peace, with Millie waiting for them right there. The dark-haired woman was clearly impatient, as she scoffed at their approach, with her arms folded. A large backpack, apparently filled to the brim with stuff, was now behind her.

“About damn time! Where the hell were y...oh! Greetings... Lady Dimitrescu…?”

Millie’s shock went unaddressed, as the Dimitrescu women walked past her. Clicking her tongue in annoyance, she followed along.

Nobody said a word, as their party of six walked through the forlorn and dark mines, Cassandra lighting the way with a flashlight this time.

As she trudged along, Bela gazed at the man in her arms with a fond, serene smile, her mood uplifted. They were finally whole, regardless of anything else. The blonde woman couldn’t keep the happy thoughts from running through her head. 

Mother is diminished, true, but she is alive and that’s what truly matters. Perhaps, one day, she could recover her former glory… Until then, we will make sure that no harm will befall her. Despite everything, we all owe so much to her...

And Ethan… he sacrificed everything for us. What awaits us next, I wonder… Could we… truly be something special together? Let’s find out!

Feeling playful and upbeat, she leaned her head forward to place a quick kiss on Ethan’s cheek.

“You don’t know the depth of my gratitude for what you did for us, Ethan. But you will find out!”

“Hah, Bells... can’t wait to see... what you got... in store for me… ouch…”

His voice betrayed the pain he felt, but also more - his fondness for the woman that now carried him. The blonde daughter herself felt so much love towards this man at this moment, she would’ve struggled to express it with words. This handsome, kind-hearted, brave man. She was determined to return his kindness twofold.

As they approached the mine’s exit, the atmosphere suddenly shifted. Bela felt something heavy settling in the air and her stomach churned at this peculiar feeling. A strange form of buzzing; a white-noise kind of sound was becoming audible at the edge of her consciousness. It only grew in intensity as they saw the rays of sunlight on the horizon, through the exit, still some way in the distance.

Bela shivered as the feeling of dread engulfed her completely. Something was wrong. Malevolence was palpable in the air.

Judging by the suddenly unnerved brunette ahead, whose burning eyes were jumping all over the mine shaft, Bela was not alone in her foreboding. Ethan himself appeared to be unconscious, once again, likely passing out due to immense strain placed on his body.

Glancing behind her shoulder, Bela noted that Daniela was similarly affected, but both Alcina and Millie seemed to be none the wiser. 

As they finally reached the mine’s entrance, Cassandra cursed loudly, chilling Bela's black blood in her veins.

“Shit…”

Two more steps and Bela could see the issue for herself. Her jaw opened wide in shock. 

Outside the mine, was a semi-circular ring of heavily-armored soldiers, six in total, just waiting for them. The troopers had fully enclosed bodies, with visored helmets. A B.S.A.A. badge was worn on each soldier’s right chestplate. Below the badge, a weird symbol depicting two elongated but warped squares with a triangle in between was visible. 

Every single trooper looked absolutely identical to the next one, with no way to tell them apart. What was more disconcerting was that all of them had identical poses; they all held their weaponry in the exact same relaxed pattern, not yet aiming at the moldy gang.

Looking closer, Bela was horrified to spot further soldiers - out in the open, inside the dilapidated buildings, on top of roofs… their own little group was hopelessly outnumbered. Making a single step back, the elder daughter couldn’t help but consider the possibility of retreat.

Perhaps we can wait out inside that facility? Surely the Duke would send aid soon…

The thought was promptly squashed as four more soldiers came from behind - likely emerging from the branching shafts they passed on their way.

Surrounded? How could we have missed them…

The white-noise static sound in the background was becoming more audible, as well. With a start, Bela realized that she was not hearing it, she was feeling it, as if it was in her head. It was more than a mere sound, it was a presence

If she focused, the blonde woman could almost comprehend the words through all the ear-grating noise in her own head.

‘hiss’ ...tar… ‘hiss’ ...ired… ‘hiss’... nd by ‘hiss’

Bela’s eyes widened in fear. She clutched Ethan even closer to herself as their little group huddled together.

“What do we do, Bela!?”

Cassandra herself lost her cool. The brunette clearly realized that regardless of their own shimmering forms, no way either Alcina or Ethan could hope to survive this fight if these soldiers proved hostile. 

But Bela had nothing for once. She saw no opportunity for escape that included Alcina and Ethan making it out of here in one piece. And she was not going to leave them behind.

“If they attack us...you should flee, my sisters. I will remain behind with mother and Ethan and try to buy you two some time…”

Millie looked aghast at not even being mentioned. For once, both of Bela’s sisters had exactly the same response.

“No fucking way.”

Bela would’ve smiled at their shared camaraderie, if the situation was not so grim. At least they would all be together, in the end.

‘hiss’ ...minate. ‘hiss’

As one, moving in perfect, inhuman synchronicity, every single B.S.A.A. soldier brought a weapon up, taking aim and preparing to execute the moldy gang in cold blood.

Bela closed her eyes. She had so many regrets. So many things unsaid. Nevertheless, the woman accepted her imminent demise with dignity, head held high, even as she clutched the man she had grown to love in her arms.

Just as the soldiers were about to squeeze the triggers of their bulky firearms, a thunder without lighting resonated across the mines. A shockwave without any force behind it passed through everyone present, chilling Bela to her very soul, nevertheless.

A sound, or, more precisely, a feeling of sound, unlike any other she had ever heard, suddenly threatened to unravel her very mind. It was… hard to describe in mortal terms. As if every unpleasant sound ever was combined into one horrific cacophony of noise, just to be amplified to a ludicrous, unbearable degree.

 

A scream of a dying God.

 

Just as Bela was sure that she would be driven insane; reduced to a drooling, mindless husk, the nightmarish discord relented - gone as swiftly as it appeared. 

Greedily taking in a deep breath as if she just emerged from a drowning accident, Bela took a moment to recompose herself before risking a glance at the rest. Cassandra and Daniela had horrified expressions frozen on their faces, with mouths and eyes open wide in unadulterated terror. Alcina and Millie were completely unaffected, just gaping around in surprise, as everyone but them just lived through the most grueling, unspeakable ordeal.

For whatever reason, the effect of this mind-shattering phenomenon was even more pronounced on the soldiers that surrounded them. Their threatening, combat-ready postures slackened and their guns fell to their sides, idle. Moreover, the troopers’ shoulders relaxed and their helmeted heads dropped down.

To Bela’s wide, shocked eyes it looked as if every single soldier just fell asleep while standing upright, one hand still clutching a rifle. The blonde woman was also quick to note that the annoying white-noise that was in the back of her head for the last couple of minutes was gone. She could no longer feel the malefic presence, either.

Trading wary glances with the others, the small group was more unnerved than ever before by this shocking display that just took place. Daniela's whispered voice implied that the distraught girl was quite afraid of waking the troopers that were still encircling the women.

“What was that…? My head… it was in my head...the noise...I... I... I...can’t...”

Alcina, despite not suffering any ill effects herself, clearly saw the strain her beloved youngest daughter was put under. The Dimitrescu matriarch did not hesitate to embrace Daniela this time, cooing at her softly.

“Everything’s alright, draga mea… Just listen to my voice…”

“Mama…I am scared...”

The taller redhead cuddled tightly to Alcina, making Bela once again gulp at the shocking sight of her youngest sibling engulfing mother’s body by her own. Lady Dimitrescu kept soothing the girl with sweet nothings as well as loving gestures of affection as she ran her skinny, rash-covered hand down the redhead’s dirty locks.

Even though she hated to interrupt the loving embrace, the eldest daughter had no idea how long the B.S.A.A. troopers would remain in this state of hibernation, or whatever it was.

“Everyone...we cannot tarry. Let’s get moving before these... things wake up.”

Cassandra, wild-eyed, nodded in agreement. This whole experience was even more stupefying for her than it was for Bela. Millie was just gaping at a soldier closest to her, disbelief plain on her features.

Bela herself just shrugged off the horrifying episode and let out a sigh of relief at the fact that their imminent execution was postponed, hopefully indefinitely. She gave one more fond glance towards the unconscious man she still carried in her arms, which were getting somewhat tired. Ethan was moaning softly, his face developing an unhealthy red tint. To Bela’s experienced eyes, he appeared feverish and in need of proper medical assistance.

I’ll get you out of here yet, Ethan! Just hold on...

The small group finally left the haunted dark mines behind, though walking through the semicircular ring of incapacitated soldiers was hardly any more comfortable. Bela could see the slight motions of their bodies as they breathed and their hands still gripped their rifles tightly. Something told the blonde woman that the hibernating troopers could leap into action at the slightest disturbance.

Bela’s amber orbs grew wide in fear as she spotted Cassandra’s form, sickle raised, approaching one of the fighters, deadly intent clear in her own burning eyes. The elder daughter could only hiss out, afraid to make too much noise.

“Cass, don’t!”

The wild-eyed brunette just scoffed, but obeyed as her farming instrument was pulled back to her side. Millie nodded along, before showing Bela’s her heavy-duty phone, with a message displayed on it.

Don’t disturb them. Proceed to your vehicle.

Carefully moving through the still standing forms of their enemies, making sure not to touch any, the small group advanced through the ghost town in tense silence, uncomfortably aware of all the unmoving shapes near and inside the rickety shacks surrounding them.

With her vision partially obstructed by the man in her arms, Bela didn't notice a small rock in her way, which promptly went flying as her foot hit it on its next step. To the blonde’s woman's horror, the rock struck a nearby soldier right in his abdomen, making him do a single jarring twitch, with his grip on his rifle tightening visibly.

The whole party stopped dead in their tracks and held their breaths. A few beats of complete silence and lack of motion followed. Moments later, everyone gave a small sigh of relief as the trooper’s grip slackened once more. Quietly and steadily, the group continued towards their destination.

About half-way through the tiny town, the team saw a burning wreck of a small helicopter, the same one Ethan, Rose and Tom used to get to the Duke’s ship. The pilot likely died on impact, his face frozen in a fearful and bloodied grimace. A soldier with a large missile launcher was ‘sleeping’ on a roof of a two-storey stone building nearby - an obvious culprit behind the aircraft’s sorry state.

Seeing the ruined vehicle, Millie whispers with curiosity in her voice, still very much aware and afraid of the hibernating troopers all around them.

“That was supposed to be our extraction chopper… who is helping us then?”

Nobody could answer that inquiry, so the group proceeded towards the car they left behind in tense silence. An occasional shadowy silhouette in a doorway or behind a house kept them all on their toes. The grim figures of hibernating soldiers out in the open exuded nothing but unspoken menace and a promise of unceremonious death. 

Alcina was coughing and grunting in effort, as her weakened and drained body was put under unexpected strain. Ethan was burning in the blonde’s daughter’s arms, sickly sweat pouring down his frame.

If someone asked Bela what the most tense and uncomfortable ten minutes of her long life were, she would probably go with this harrowing experience. That one time where she agreed to join Daniela on a prank and ended up stuck in Cassandra’s dresser with the redhead as they both observed the middle sibling having her way with a particularly sultry maid was a close second, though.

After a short walk through the mining town, which, nevertheless, felt like an eternity to Bela, their not-so-merry gang turned a corner and ended up where they had left the armored car. The sight that greeted them was surprising, to say the least.

A moderately-sized, sleek-looking aircraft was stationed right next to their own vehicle, a bunch of soldiers in unusual get ups around it, with weapons held steadily but not threateningly. Unlike the identical, Bela would even dare say mass-produced - looking troopers left behind, these ones had an almost casual look to them, as they sported ordinary jeans and shirts, with some armor and equipment over it. Their most glaring feature was the presence of weird multi-visored helmets on their heads. 

Upon seeing them, Cassandra immediately snarled and hissed in aggression, sickle already raising; the soldiers themselves made no motion to return the hostile gesture and kept passively observing their battle-weary group.

Bela had no idea who these people were, nor whether they wished them ill-intent or not. Nevertheless, gathering her courage, she spoke, in her authoritative but calm voice.

“And who are you supposed to be?”

The masked grunts said nothing, but not a moment passed before a larger, powerfully built man disembarked from the aircraft and leveled a glare of his own at their ragtag bunch of dirtied and bloodied misfits.

Despite having a rough, almost brutish appearance, the man was objectively handsome. It was his eyes that immediately struck Bela as something truly unique, however. The depthless blue orbs betrayed a lifetime of strife and pain. They were not unlike a beautiful painting depicting a particularly gruesome sight.

The blonde woman instantly realized that this was not a man to be trifled with. His gruff voice that brooked no argument only confirmed that notion.

“Who we are is not important. All you need to know is that we work with the Duke, for now, and that we are the ones who just saved your collective asses from that Replica platoon. And I am here for the person you’re holding onto, right now.”

The idea was laughable. Bela would be damned if she’d let them have Ethan without a fight. In the darkness of the early morning, her molten-gold orbs flashed in indignation and anger. Somehow, even Cassandra shared that sentiment as her second hand reached for a pistol. The fiery brunette let out a low growl of rage.

Unlike the wall of armored bodies without any obvious weak spots back in the town, these strangers had plenty of skin to carve through. Bela was quite confident that they could take these people on, if they had to. Daniela was quick to join her and Cassandra, as well; with Alcina remaining behind, not yet fit for any kind of a fight. Millie just observed, metallic-grey eyes narrowed in anticipation.

Five of them, no matter how experienced they are, versus three of us. More than doable.

A tense standoff ensued, which proved to be brief as the apparent leader of the strangers relented, his harsh visage turning soft as he spoke.

“Look… Ethan is a friend. I won’t lie and say that I am happy to see him amidst a bunch of vicious B.O.W.s but… you clearly care about him more than if he was just your next meal, so just get into the chopper. The man clearly needs medical attention and if that’s not enough, the freaks back there won’t stay that way forever. I guarantee that you won’t want to be here when they wake up.”

“He did say that he worked with the Duke…let’s just get the hell outta here…please?”

Millie was not shy about her obvious desires.

As much as she hated the idea of trusting some strange, unknown men, Bela saw no real choice here. Ethan wouldn’t last long like this, and their hovercraft was his best chance at swift medical attention. Mother wasn’t looking too good herself...

Trading a couple of glances amongst themselves, the Dimitrescu family all silently consented to this most unusual of invitations. The small group proceeded to embark into the hovercraft, trading suspicious glares with the masked men in the process. The leader attempted to assist Bela with Ethan, but the woman just scoffed as she jumped inside herself.

Laying Ethan down on a free bench-like seat, Bela’s hand immediately shot to his temple. She almost yelped at touching the searing-hot skin. The large man was quick to follow, inspecting the unconscious blonde father himself. Not liking what he was seeing, he produced a small syringe-like object, with a blue umbrella icon on it.

“This should help for now.”

The man explained the action as he plunged the syringe into Ethan’s wrist. Bela could only hope that he was speaking the truth. Thankfully, the feverish forehead under her palm was quick to cool down, just a little, making the woman breathe out a sigh of relief.

As soon as everyone else got aboard, the aircraft, with a low hum, steadily gained altitude before lurching towards the coast and hopefully - safety.

Bela took the opportunity to glance around at the assembled faces. Daniela sat with Alcina, holding her close, with worry in her amber eyes. Mother looked even more haggard than when they had found her - even this small trek put quite a strain on her exhausted body.

Millie was rummaging through her looted backpack, without a care in the world. Bela couldn’t help but narrow her eyes at the shorter woman.

What exactly was your goal, I wonder...somehow I doubt it was to rescue mother, after all. The Duke better have some answers…

Cassandra, surprisingly, was simply staring into the leader’s deep blue eyes. Her face was pensive, previous hostility and anxiety already forgotten. The elder sister understood the appeal the brunette saw...the man’s eyes were certainly…unusual in the depths of traumatic emotion one could perceive in them.

The large man himself looked a little bit uncomfortable from being an object of so much attention from the vampiric women, as he cleared his throat and offered an actual greeting, his voice diplomatic, but not soft.

“By the way, name’s Chris. I believe we have quite a few things to discuss once we get to the ship.”

Oh, Chris? Ethan did mention him!

The man pointedly looked at each Dimitrescu as he spoke, each one responding with a stare of her own. Alcina, in particular, looked unimpressed; regal even in her diminished state. Bela’s heart soared at the fact that at least mother’s mind was apparently intact after the horrible ordeal she had endured. As their group’s de facto leader, at least for now, the blonde woman tried to introduce herself first, in an attempt to dispel any lingering hostility.

“I’m Be…”

“Cassandra. A pleasure.”

Bela could only close her open mouth as her younger sister so rudely interrupted her. Suppressing a huff of indignation of her own, the blonde woman returned her attention to her beloved ones, instead. 

Hopefully, they would soon return to the Duke’s ship and leave all this horrible mess behind. Finding solace in that thought, the elder daughter smiled gently upon her mother, caressing Ethan’s hair all the while. Alcina clearly had conflicting emotions at that particular sight, as she couldn’t decide whether to give her eldest a frown or a loving smile. Bela just giggled in mirth at the confusion she caused. She knew that mother would come around, eventually.

Everything is going to be fine now. We are all together, once again, amongst friends, this time. Ethan and mother will both make a full recovery, I am sure of it! Perhaps… we can find happiness once again...together.

Notes:

I hope Alcina's first appearance didn't disappoint anyone who expected a 9 foot tall juggernaut to chop some riff-raff into mincemeat :S
I borrowed this concept from another work - The Killing Cure by TalesOfOnyxBats. Very interesting story, with a unique twist between Ethan and Alcina enemy to lover relationship.

Also, I did want to portray Bela M.D. for a while now, thanks to PotCFan101 for an inspiration on how to do it :)

Quoting a character from the relevant game, a lot of unnatural fuckery happened in this chapter, and I do hope it was at least somewhat confusing - it was supposed to be!

Finally, our cast of characters is expanded and I do imagine Cassandra as someone who doesn't hesitate to go after anything that caught her fancy :D

Chapter 22: Allies of Convenience

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Bela could hardly recall a time when she was in that desperate need of a shower. 

Her disgusting, blood and filth covered black shirt was not coming off voluntarily, so the blonde woman took great joy in tearing her way out from the offending article of clothing. 

True, she could’ve simply used her witch-like powers to leave it behind, in one piece. However, the elder daughter would be lying if she said that an occasional act of wanton destruction like this one did not bring her a likely unhealthy amount of satisfaction.

As her, by now, almost claw-like digits left the horrid, oversized, itchy and plain shirt that she was forced to wear lying in pieces, Bela breathed a sigh of contentment. She absolutely did not do it out of petty revenge for the uncomfortable hours spent in it. She did it in the name of fashion.

Her sweaty and dirty boots were next to go, followed by blood-smeared nylon military pants. Bela decided to show mercy to these items, as they were both quite agreeable to wear and even somewhat eye-pleasing.

Clicking her tongue at the reflection of her muck and grime covered body, with its own fair share of smears of blood mixed with sweat and tears on it, the tall woman proceeded into her little shower.

The feeling of hot, rushing water on her skin was simply divine. Bela couldn’t suppress a soft moan of pleasure as all the accumulated filth of the violent night was washed off, leaving her body almost pristine, once again.

Cleanliness is next to godliness

Bela was never one to walk long periods of time smeared in blood of her hapless victims, but, to Daniela’s endless chagrin, the blonde sister turned into a true clean freak after the family departed their ancient castle and no longer had servants to tidy up for them.

The blonde Dimitrescu hummed contentedly as almost scalding current purified her flesh. Sometimes, she liked to pretend that in addition to dirt, it also washed her sins away. Bela never mentioned that particular childish fantasy to anyone, however.

Her humming turned into a full-blown soothing bedtime tune mother used to sing to her, so long ago. The eldest daughter couldn’t help but be joyous; she grinned wide at the memory of the past two hours, even as her skin turned pink from the searing water running over it.

Chris and his soldiers kept their word and delivered the moldy gang back to the Duke’s ship, in one piece. What a warm welcome they had received back on the vessel! The humongous merchant himself was there to greet them, akin to returning heroes. Tom was there to embrace Millie in a warm hug, which she returned eagerly; little Rose did not hesitate to attach herself to Bela, who still carried her poor father.

They hardly wasted any time in delivering both Ethan and Alcina to the medical bay. That same kindly elderly doctor from before was quick to dispel everyone’s worries. Lady Dimitrescu suffered from extreme exhaustion and a severe dehydration, while Ethan himself shared the former symptom with a moderate blood-poisoning and infection on top. Yet they both would be fine.

Before Bela could blame herself for the infection, the lady doctor firmly assured her that removing the numerous bullets in time was the only thing that kept the man from developing a severe lead poisoning that could’ve been fatal.

Alcina proceeded to quickly drift into a dreamless deep slumber, as an infusion of fresh blood, donated by an eager crewman, was provided to her. The last thing their exhausted mother mumbled out, before the dreamscape took her in its unyielding grasp was a declaration of undying love for her three grime-covered daughters, which they all returned with joyous tears.

Despite shivering and sweating like a waterfall, Ethan would likely be up and about in a day or two, the doctor had assured. His internal mold, which was almost depleted from the repeated injuries, was quick to regrow to its former levels as soon as the nutrient tube was attached to his side. From there, his own regeneration, with a little assistance, would handle his internal injuries - slowly but steadily.

The three sisters, not satisfied with assurances from the staff, took their silent vigil over the two beds. It took an hour for a particularly brave nurse to gather courage and note out loud that they stunk as if they waded through a mountain of corpses and that they created an unsanitary condition in her pristine workspace.

Cassandra just smirked as she took it as a compliment. Daniela looked sheepish and apologized. Bela huffed in indignation but yielded the point - their stench was palpable. Reluctantly, giving the two bedridden people they cared so much about one last fond glance, the siblings had taken their leave.

And so Bela had found herself performing one of her more unusual rituals - scrubbing her human flesh until it was red and raw, almost to the point of pain.

The past gives way to the future

Ten minutes later, finally satisfied, Bela finished her bathing and proceeded to select her outfit for the day. Applying a fresh bandage to her rapidly healing but still sore shoulder first, the woman quickly glanced through her modest collection of clothing, most of them gracefully provided by the Duke. Eventually, her mirthful orbs stopped on that little get up that Ethan’s own eyes just couldn’t get enough of the last time she wore it.

A pristine white blouse. Casual dark blue jeans. A pair of simple white sneakers. Beautiful in its simplicity. And in the way it showed her figure.

She could not possibly forget mother, either. Bela’s molten gold eyes fell upon the precious gift, its value to her not diminished even with the many years that have passed. She held it with reverence, even as she took a minute to admire it, once again.

A priceless square-patterned necklace with a large ruby as a centerpiece, one out of the set of three, specifically commissioned to celebrate the Dimitrescu newfound sisterhood, so long ago. The blonde daughter felt fresh wetness gathering in her eyes at the still vivid memory of that beautiful, wholesome moment they had shared that day. It happened before the endless atrocities committed in Miranda’s name - when there were just the four of them - joyous together, as a family, untarnished by sins.

After a brief moment of reminiscence, Bela wiped her glinting eyes with a handkerchief before putting on the necklace, slowly and respectfully - the mere act of it emboldening her. The past could not haunt her when the future looked so bright.

Next, the elder daughter put on a touch of dark mascara, further highlighting her expressive eyes. A speck of earthy perfume was applied a moment later, giving Bela a minor but pleasant and natural aroma. Her golden hair was done just as she liked it - cascading down her head freely.

Humming in satisfaction at her reflection, the tall woman couldn’t suppress a small frown from taking place a moment later as one imperfection became apparent to her scrutinizing gaze. Her deft fingers were quick to rectify the issue by undoing the top button of her blouse, however. A bit more won't hurt. And the second one.

Taking one more glance to admire herself, Bela gave her reflection a playful wink, feeling upbeat and finally at ease. Things were looking up and the woman was proud that her appearance reflected that. Moreover, Ethan was sure to appreciate the effort she’d put in today...

Her full pink lips narrowed to a thin line as, for a moment, the elder daughter questioned the validity of her approach.

Is this what Ethan truly needs right now, though? Perhaps a more reserved, comforting approach is in order? No… how can I mend his broken heart without having access to it?

A soft knock brought the woman out of her momentarily reverie. Giving herself one last careful glance and liking what she saw, Bela approached the door to her cabin and beheld her visitor.

The blonde daughter’s good mood was immediately soured as her amber orbs fell down upon the shorter woman that now stood in her presence.

“The Duke would like a word, Miss Bela.”

Bela couldn’t help but narrow her yellow eyes, as Millie addressed her curtly, with an unmistakable hint of fear in her metallic grey ones. Thanks to her internal predator, that fear immediately ignited the dying embers of suspicion and aggression that were still warm in the blonde’s mind.

Boiling inside, yet maintaining outward civility, Bela just nodded as she left her modest cabin and offered a friendly greeting of her own.

“Ah, Millie. I trust the last couple of hours were kind to you? We did go through quite an experience tonight, wouldn’t you say?”

Bela was genuine in that sentiment. The elder daughter reckoned that the horrific trek through the forlorn mines and the ghost town would not be leaving her own dreamscape any time soon, if ever. One cannot simply forget the mind-shattering mental assault like that, not to mention the creepy-ass soldiers. The only reason Bela was so upbeat herself right now was the fact that her family was whole once again and her adaptive mind was able to focus on brighter aspects of her future.

“Indeed, Miss Bela. I am not looking forward to ever seeing these featureless masks ever again. But we made it - that’s what's important! Your mother is safe and secure!”

Humming in agreement, the taller woman proceeded towards the Duke’s cabin, Millie trailing behind. Feeling confrontational, Bela couldn’t suppress a biting jibe that rushed out of her mouth.

“And your own goal is accomplished, as well, isn’t it? How truly convenient. What was in that backpack, I wonder, hmm?”

“What are you saying, Miss Be...”

Millie’s voice was shaky and Bela’s own patience for playing games was at its end. Stopping dead in her previously brisk pace, making the smaller woman bump into her back; Bela hissed out in a mockingly playful voice, interrupting her whimpering mumblings.

“Are you playing coy with me, little one ? Are you sure it's wise?”

An audible gulp preceded a whispered excuse.

“Please, my lady...I am just doing what I am told. I guarantee you that we have no ill intent towards any of you, whatsoever...but...the world doesn’t revolve around you four, either.”

Bela rotated 180 degrees in heartbeat, coming face to face with an obviously scared young woman. The eldest daughter was angry . In this moment of raw fury, she could vividly picture her own hand, clutched tightly around Millie’s neck as she savagely slammed the dark-haired girl against the hallway’s wall again and again, until she finally started speaking straight.

The unexpectedly cruel imagery must have been visible through either Bela’s slightly-narrowed amber orbs, or her menacing, wide smile, since Millie visibly shuddered and made one more meek attempt to placate the taller woman.

“Please… I am sure the Duke will explain everything… I truly never meant you any harm… I wanted us... to become friends…”

“Hmph. Friends do not keep each other in the dark.”

Millie had what appeared to be a genuine expression of hurt at that accusation. The dark-haired woman brought her head down and kept quiet.

Bela, saying nothing else herself, turned around and resumed her brisk walk towards the Duke’s cabin. With some apprehension, she noted that her right fist was clenched tightly.

I am quite eager to consider resorting to violence lately… Perhaps the meditation techniques I recommended to Daniela would do me some good, as well...

As they reached the luxurious cabin Millie excused herself and went on her way, not meeting Bela’s judging gaze again. 

A single dark eyebrow went up as Bela entered the extravagantly-decorated room and saw the occupants. The Duke himself was not yet present, but Chris and one of his men were, as was Cassandra.

Both Chris and his underling - a smaller tanned young man in a pair of heavy-duty glasses and with a short, military-cut black hair, were in their casual wear, bereft of equipment now.

Bela had to suppress an urge to cover her face with a palm in embarrassment at seeing Cassandra’s dress.

The brunette had her prized black shirt with a ‘ Death Metal or Die! ’ written on it and below she wore her exercising shorts and dark shoes. Cassandra lounged in an armchair casually, one long leg across the other - eager to show off her powerful and well-toned limbs.

Bela let out a mental groan, already knowing where this was going. Her younger sister, seeing her exasperated expression, only grinned widely. The blonde Dimitrescu simply asked her a question.

“Sister. Our gracious host has summoned you as well, I gather?”

“Nah. I just felt like being here.”

“Of course you did.”

The elder sibling took her place in an armchair next to Cassandra, opposing the two men in the room.

Huh, I was pretty sure there was a huge jade statue in the middle before...Guess the Duke had it moved or something.

The loaded silence ensued as two sides eyed each other warily - neither quite trusting the other, just yet. Cassandra was the only person in the large room who appeared fully comfortable with the present company as her face was locked in her trademark calm yet somewhat menacing smile.

As tense moments passed, Bela couldn’t have possibly missed an occasional glance the men would shoot them. The sight of a battle-hardened veteran like Chris sneaking a peak at Cassandra as she slowly, seductively even, shifted her legs around; before quickly averting his gaze again made the blonde sister snicker. Cassandra herself would do her signature soft giggling, somewhat less evilly than usual, though.

Gosh, this is awkward. Where the hell is Duke? Ah, fuck it.

“So… Chris, was it? Ethan did mention you. I am Bela, by the way. You’re already acquainted with my dear sister Cassandra here. What’s your little friend’s name?”

The tanned man in question just snorted and adjusted his glasses, before mumbling out a forced greeting. A measure of hostility was plain in his voice.

“I can speak for myself. It’s Lieutenant Rolando Elba to you, Dimitrescu.”

“Oooh! So formal!” Cassandra just giggled at the shorter man before turning her gaze at the unshaven form of the captain. “By the way, Chris. Our mutual friend - Ethan - mentioned that you could take me on in a fight. After I had handed him his own sorry ass. Care to back that statement up?” Bela couldn’t suppress a small groan of embarrassment now.

Called it! Ugh… here we go again. Why did you have to relay that particular bit, Daniela? You really need to keep your mouth shut sometimes, dearest sister… At least Cassi seems to be finally warming up to Ethan.

“Excuse me, Miss Dimitrescu?” Chris looked at Cassandra with his blue eyes open wide; Bela couldn’t miss a glimmer of intrigue that sparkled in them. That man was a glutton for punishment!

“You heard me. I challenge you to a fight! No weapons other than our own bodies.” Cassandra took a moment to smirk evilly, before continuing. “Or is the big, strong man afraid of a little weak woman like myself?” Chris only stared at her with a pensive, evaluating look, while Elba scoffed and spoke, with derision.

“You ain’t a woman - you’re a fuckin’ monster!” Cassandra just hung her head back and let out a booming, guttural howl of laughter. If she was offended by the insult, she didn’t show it. Bela, however, once again found herself clenching her own fists. She was not amused by that statement. Even though that was a natural reaction - expected, really - from the humans who knew their true natures, the elder sibling still loathed it with every fiber of her being.

As the brunette’s laughter died down, Chris finally responded, in a surprisingly friendly tone.

“Well, I suppose one bout couldn’t hurt. I haven’t had a new sparring partner in quite a while… I’d like to conclude our business with the Duke, first, however. Also… I won’t hold back.”

Chris noted that last part with a hint of menace of his own. Hearing his answer, Cassandra’s amber orbs widened in glee as her fingers started that annoying little twitching of hers. She was already exhilarated at the prospect of violence. The brunette’s voice was unsteady in its undisguised excitement. 

“That’s the spirit! I’d love to see what you’re truly made of, so I hope you’ll give it your all !”

Chris just nodded and gave her a reserved grin, which she returned, eagerly. A brief silence ensued, letting the elder sister think in peace for a moment.

Bela was actually amazed at how relaxed and easygoing Cassandra appeared to be. Surely that mind-numbing incident they’ve just lived through mere hours ago left a mark, even on her sister’s resilient mind? Yet if the fierce brunette was bothered by it at all, she did a splendid job at hiding it behind her playful and combative facade. The elder sibling couldn’t help but ask the question that burned in her own mind, taking them all back to that horrifying moment.

“So...just what the fuck was that back there - these soldiers? Care to enlighten us?

“A lot of unnatural fuckery, that’s what… but I guess you would be no stranger to that… you fuc…”

“That’s enough, Elba.” Chris looked pointedly at his man, arms folded. Bela narrowed her own eyes at the bespectacled man - clearly he had a problem with them.

“As for your question, Miss Dimitrescu, what you saw back there was an abomination my own organization - Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance - chose to embrace.” Bela leaned in, interested. She was familiar with the organization, of course - it was kind of a big deal in 2023 - but their family had avoided attracting their attention, for obvious reasons; this was her first contact with an actual B.S.A.A. member. Seeing her interest, the large man continued.

“There is...no simple way to put it. These soldiers you saw in that little town - not exactly human.”

“No shit.” That was painfully obvious to both Bela and Cassandra, so they replied in synchronicity, eliciting a glance from each other and a small giggle from both of them, as well. Chris, with some amusement on his face, scoffed and proceeded with his explanation.

“I see you’re not easily spooked - that’s good. I’ll skip the detailed background and give you a short version then. These were the so-called ‘Replica Force’ - an army of genetically engineered and enhanced clones, conditioned for obedience and efficiency.” Chris paused for a moment, licking his chapped lips and gathering his thoughts. Finally, clearing his throat, he concluded his brief explanation.

“The icing on the cake though… is something that’s even harder to swallow. They receive their orders not by verbal commands or coded messages… instead, their ‘commander’ actually employs telepathy, believe it or not.”

The man gave the Dimitrescu siblings a minute to process that information. Cassandra just laughed, as if hearing a good joke, while Bela sat with her palm supporting her jaw as she pondered on that bit.

Telepathy, huh? Never knew it was a thing...but somehow I am not actually surprised. Perhaps, it is how we ourselves operate in our swarm form? What was that horrible noise that stopped them, then?

“You’ve previously mentioned that you’ve ‘saved your collective asses ’. How, exactly?”

Both men suddenly became uncomfortable as they fidgeted with their fingers and avoided Bela’s gaze. Finally Chris answered, even as he awkwardly ran a hand through his black hair.

“The details are… unimportant. The less you know about it - the better you will sleep at night. Suffice it to say that we used an ...ahm… a powerful force to temporarily sever the connection the troopers have to their commander - causing them to enter a forced hibernation.”

Cassandra piped in at that, her black lips curling in disappointment.

“So, are they completely worthless without their commander, then? Meh, I should’ve tasted some of their blood in that case.” The brunette shot a glare Bela’s way as she spoke, the blonde returning the favor by playfully sticking her tongue out. Chris simply responded to the question, his blue orbs glued to Cassandra toned form all the while.

“Errr… Not quite. They are quite capable of independent operation and would’ve been eager to splatter you across the ground were they awakened. The forced hibernation upon a sudden loss of connection with a commander is simply a failsafe we exploited, hardwired into them after an incident a year ago. But that’s a different, particularly gruesome and bloody story.”

“Oooh! I love stories, especially the gruesome and bloody kind! Why don’t you tell it to me in private, after we have our little spar, Chris?” The brunette spoke even as she once again shifted her long legs around in a slow - clearly intentionally so - motion.

Cassi really has no shame!

“...Maybe later, Miss Dimitrescu.”

“Enough with that Miss Dimitrescu crap! I am not Miss Uptight over there!” Bela clicked her tongue in slight annoyance at that remark. ”Call me Cassandra.”

“Alright, Cassandra.” The middle child gave a wide, toothy grin at that, Chris returning a small smile, instead. Rolando looked at this whole interaction with apprehension plain in his eyes, but the man clearly had far too much respect for his captain to openly question his choice of acquaintances - instead, he merely switched his gaze to observe the expensive paintings.

Bela was quite surprised herself. It wasn’t anything special for Cassandra to be direct like that, or to crave a good fight. Indeed, back during their old lives in the Castle, the brunette would sometimes give Miranda’s captives the Dimitrescus held an offer: to fight her and have a chance at winning their freedom. Often, she would even fight multiple opponents at a time. Any intruder, be it a hapless lost tourist or a greedy treasure hunter would be treated to the same offer.

Naturally, nobody ever escaped them that way, since the middle child would not hesitate to use her swarm form if her human shape was ever truly threatened. For all her bravado, Cassandra was not above playing dirty whenever she was in actual danger.

What truly shocked Bela were the displays of affection her sister was giving to the battle-hardened veteran. Again, while Cassandra had a number of flings with both their prisoners and even an occasional maid or a villager, she was not known for being subtle or flirty. If the middle Dimitrescu daughter saw something she wanted, she took it. Anyone who had the misfortune of catching her fancy would be offered a simple choice: to please her either carnally or with their tortured screams. Cassandra never cared about the feelings of outsiders.

Are you finally ready to leave our old ways behind, sister? If so...I am so happy for you…

“Forgive me for the delay, my dear guests! I truly do hope that you all have made wonderful new friendships in my absence, however!

The Duke’s jolly voice quickly grounded everyone present. Everyone, except Cassandra, that is. Unperturbed, she continued playfully nibbling on her black lower lip as her amber orbs were locked on Chris’ deep blue ones. Temporarily forgetting about her sister’s unexpected romantic adventure, Bela focused on the Duke instead.

The rotund merchant’s grand entrance almost made her giggle as his bulk struggled to fit through his own doorway, for a moment - making the man himself let out a mirthful chuckle.

“My my, I really should cut down on the proteins!”

The instant their obese host plopped inside his own humongous seat behind a desk, Chris exploded in an angry tirade.

“What the hell is this, Duke!? I asked you to keep Ethan and Rose safe and instead I find him unconscious, surrounded by fucking Replicas after he took part in a reckless raid of a high-security Connections facility. By tomorrow, his face will be all over Interpol’s most fucking wanted! How is this even remotely safe!?”

The merchant put his large hands up in a calming gesture, as he responded with a somber voice.

“I am sorry Mister Redfield, but other than chaining him down in the brig, I don’t see a way I could’ve kept him from the action! That man’s heart is too large to lay back and simply watch his newfound friends risk everything to rescue their mother!”

The captain just scoffed as he folded his arms. A moment later a small, mirthless chuckle was heard in the luxurious cabin as Chris yielded the point. Bela herself smiled at the mention of Ethan’s noble nature. That man truly was a treasure… and she was determined to keep him safe from now on. Anyone who dared to try and do him harm would have to go through her, first...and that included his snake of a wife, as well.

The Duke continued, undaunted - this time addressing the two Dimitrescu women, looking apologetic.

“As for you, my dear girls, I do apologize for keeping the big picture from you. Perhaps some refreshments are in order, before we start in earnest?”

Bela and the two soldiers just shook their heads, abstaining. Cassandra did the opposite, naturally.

“Some... delicious ... fresh...chilled... man-blood would hit the spot, I think.”

The brunette expressed her desire in a husky tone, taking her sweet time with every descriptive word, her amber orbs not leaving Chris’ eyes even for a moment. The large man visibly shivered, even as he returned the stare. Rolando’s own eyes were glued to the ‘Lady with an Ermine’ painting, as if desperate to avoid glancing at the middle Dimitrescu child.

As if on a cue, a crewman in a steward’s uniform entered the cabin. The man carried an exquisitely-decorated tray with a pair of large, transparent wine glasses on it, filled with dark red liquid. Bela could only raise a brow at the Duke’s state of preparedness. He didn’t even invite Cassandra, yet he had two glasses - for the two of them, at the ready, nevertheless.

The steward wasted no time in approaching the middle daughter, before offering her the desired drink, which she accepted gracefully.

The men were mesmerized as she drank the vital fluids like one would a fine wine - with slow, careful sips - making sure to savor every single drop.

“Mmmm…”

Looking at her carefree sister enjoying herself like that made Bela herself acutely aware of her own parched throat. Without saying a word, she stood up and briskly marched up to the servant herself, taking the second glass and downing it all on the spot.

Ah… it does hit the spot…

Satisfied and invigorated, the blonde woman thanked the steward as she put the empty glass back on the tray, before returning to her original seat. The men looked thoroughly unnerved by the casual display of blood-drinking that just took place, but said nothing.

The Duke, seeing his guests’ thirst quenched, finally spoke out, once again - in that somber tone of his.

“Miss Bela, you’ve been suspecting something was amiss for quite a while - and it’s true. While rescuing Lady Alcina herself was an important goal for all of us, I also happened to have an ulterior motive in raiding that facility.” Bela folded her own arms as she leveled a piercing gaze at Duke. The woman nodded her head slightly, in a bid for him to continue.

“The truth is: myself, as well as multiple interested parties - very powerful parties, indeed - were working together on dismantling The Connections for a while now! They are...quite bad for our collective business, you see.” The Duke paused again, taking a moment to admire a painting behind Bela. Clearing his throat, he continued.

“The items Millie had obtained from that facility will be instrumental for that very purpose, I believe. And we have you to thank for the ultimate success of that operation!”

Bela could only frown as thoughts ran through her head.

Were we being used all along? Then again, does it even matter? We got our mother back, he got what he wanted. Everyone’s happy. ...Something doesn't add up though, why would he keep that information from us all this time?

“So… why didn’t you just say so from the start?” Cassandra beat Bela to a punch, the brunette voice curious, but not accusing. After giving voice to her question, the middle daughter made a show of slowly licking some leftover blood off her full black lips, to Rolando’s distress and Chris’ confusing mix of discomfort and delight .

“Ah, but my dear girls, I merely did not want to lay my burdens on you as our goals were so perfectly aligned! I wanted you to focus completely on doing what was truly important - bringing our beloved Lady Alcina back to us - and trusting my own companion to tag along and do our own little task, without inconveniencing you in any way or form.”

Cassandra nodded, apparently satisfied. Bela herself kept silent, with her lips in a thin line. The explanation made sense to her, yet the blonde couldn’t rid herself of an itch at the back of her mind.

Something stinks, and it’s not me this time…

A few moments of tense silence passed. Finally, letting the issue go for now, the elder sister nodded, as well. The Duke smiled pleasantly at her, before clapping his enormous hands together and continuing.

“A long journey is ahead of us now, my friends. A number of contacts await us at the gilded shores of Nice… ah France, such a beautiful country, so full of romance and love! But, I digress... the items and documents we’ve recovered, in the right hands, could prove instrumental in delivering a decisive blow against our mutual nemesis.”

“What about us then? Will my family be safe there? Will Ethan be safe there?”

Bela wasn’t in the mood for playing games anymore. Her loved ones’ welfare was paramount to her. She didn’t give a shit about the ‘big picture’. The blonde’s voice reflected it. Chris answered that question himself.

“There are a number of uncompromised safehouses in that region which I still have access to. I suppose I can pull a couple of favors and request one of them for confidential witness protection or some such.” The Duke was quick to pipe in, next.

“And we can discuss more permanent arrangements soon after. I do have a couple of promising locations where you would not be bothered and could once again live in peace and prosperity!”

At the previous statement from his captain, Rolando finally had enough.

“Really, captain? Witnesses - them ? How many innocent people do you think met their end in the Dimitrescu family dungeons? Hundreds, probably! And now you want to use our limited resources to shelter these murderers...these monsters ? Just because they helped one person?”

Chris sighed, as these very thoughts ran through his head as well. Nevertheless, to Bela’s utter shock, the large captain came to their defense.

“I understand how you feel, believe me - I do. But, regardless of their past deeds, this is bigger than all of us and they’ve already proved their merit against The Connections, multiple times. You know what’s at stake, don’t you?” The shorter man just nodded, not meeting the captain’s gaze. “We can’t afford to be picky about our allies and moreover, now that they are on the organization’s shitlist, they are just as much a victim as anyone else. Moreover, I do happen to trust Ethan’s judgement. I've doubted that man enough times already.”

Chris had genuine remorse plainly visible in his expression as he muttered the last part of his reasoning. Both Bela and Cassandra were surprised. They honestly didn’t expect this stranger to be willing to expend valuable resources for their own benefit. Chris didn’t let them ponder too much on that, however, as he stood up and addressed the Duke.

“You got a lot of data to sift through. Tell me when you find something on Mia Winters. I told Ethan that I would find her, and I won't rest till I do.”

Cassandra leapt to her own feet at that, her molten gold eyes almost burning in the intensity of their gaze now.

“Oh, I’ll join you on that. I do want to find dear Mia myself, you know. I’d love to have a heart-to-heart moment with her. Or maybe… a heart-to-hand one.”

Bela herself shuddered at the amount of loathing radiating from Cassandra in that instant. Her brunette sister was not a forgiving type… and for once, Bela could share her desire.

Chris looked at Cassandra with narrowed eyes and spoke slowly, a hint of menace now present in his voice.

“You know something I don’t?”

Before Cassandra could launch into an undoubtedly lengthy tirade about all the wrongs the mentioned woman committed and how she would enjoy tearing her apart, Bela interjected herself.

“We do… but I think Ethan should be the one to explain that. I am going to visit him and mother myself, I’ll call for you when he awakens. If that be all, I’ll excuse myself now.”

The Duke just nodded, having said his piece. Bela stood up, giving Cassandra a pointed, questioning gaze. The brunette made an inaudible sigh before conceding to the unvoiced demand and giving a slight nod. Knowing that her latest wish would be respected, the elder daughter gave everyone present a polite smile and a small nod, before taking her leave.

On her way to the sickbay, the blonde woman felt giddy as the previous interactions helped to unburden her immensely and now she was free to spend some quality time with her loved ones. The Duke’s explanation made some sense and the blonde found herself trusting the powerful captain. Somehow, Bela felt that the man would help keep her family safe. She couldn’t help but ponder further on that particular display from her younger sister, however.

Cassandra’s newfound obsession is most curious, yet perhaps it's not a bad thing. What if it is truly the sign that my beloved sister is finally ready to move forward - to leave our past behind? Could this man help smooth out some of her unbearably sharp edges? Would she be able to find happiness without hurting so many others then? That would be so wonderful...

Unable to help herself, Bela started humming a cheerful melody, a wide smile on her beautiful face and a spring to her step.

A new day dawns for us all...

Notes:

Ah, I finally found a spot where I could put that beautiful "little one" quote from Bela. Poor Millie - Bela was quite scary in that moment.

I do apologize for having Ethan in the background for like two chapters now, hopefully the next chapter will help rectify that issue!

Even though there was nothing particularly exciting happening in this chapter, I do hope it was an enjoyable read, nevertheless! Cass/Chris relationship will sure be an interesting one to write.

As always, feel free to leave any opinions, suggestions or thoughts in the comments! Thank you for reading :)

Chapter 23: Familial Bonds

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Bela smiled gently as she quietly entered the part of the sickbay where her mother and Ethan were recovering. Warm, morning sunlight poured through the room’s portholes, bathing the occupants in a soft glow. The serene setting of the light blue room was truly heartwarming for the blonde daughter. 

Four hospital beds were placed in a straight line; only two of them occupied - the opposite ones. The leftmost bed held Lady Alcina Dimitrescu while the rightmost one held Ethan Winters. Both patients were soundly asleep. Daniela was kneeling next to Alcina’s bed, her auburn head pressing into her mother’s eager palm. The redhead appeared snoozing herself, making her elder sibling let out a light chuckle of affection.

Bela felt so much love for both her little sister and mother in that moment that tears were threatening to come out of her amber eyes, once again.

I am so happy you’re back with us, my mother… 

Deciding not to bother the sleeping beauties for a moment, Bela moved towards the room’s two other occupants, her white sneakers not making a sound as she did so.

Ethan appeared to be at peace now, both his fever and shaking having subsided. Gently laying her palm on his temple, the blonde woman hummed softly as his skin had just the right warmth.

“Hello, Auntie Bela…daddy is still sleeping...”

Rose was sitting in a small, kid-sized chair next to Ethan’s bed, watching the blonde woman with curiosity in her tiny eyes. In a greeting of her own, Bela gave the child a loving smile, which she meant.

Such a precious girl… I am so sorry about all this nasty business with your mother, dear one… How could I possibly offer any comfort to this poor child?

Bela quickly but quietly pulled another, normal-sized chair before sitting on it. With her palm, the blonde Dimitrescu patted her own knee, inviting the child to perch on her lap.

“Come here, little one.”

The girl, already experienced in how warm and welcoming Bela’s lap was, did not hesitate. As the child approached her sitting form, the tall woman carefully lifted the tiny Winters up and placed the girl on her own waiting lap. Rose giggled slightly at the motion with Bela’s gentle arms closing over her, protectively but not oppressively so.

Holding this tiny being in her arms, Bela couldn’t help but wonder - how would it feel to have a child of her own. A moot query, however, as never once did a Dimitrescu daughter got pregnant, despite all of them indulging in their carnal desires at least a couple of times over the long years spent in the castle. One dark thought called for another and Bela soon found herself whispering an apology into the girl's ear.

“I am so sorry dear one… your father got hurt protecting us… because I was careless - again .”

“It’s alright, Auntie Bela… daddy will be alright - the good doctor lady said so. And… he wanted to protect you!”

Still holding the child with her left arm, the elder Dimitrescu daughter started gently rubbing the girl’s blonde head with her right hand, eliciting another pleased giggle.

“It’s not good enough, little one. I have to do better. I will do better. I… Your daddy is a precious person to me, you know that, dear one? I will do everything in my power to keep you two safe, from now on. I promise you that.”

“You are a precious person to daddy, as well, Auntie Bela!”

The blonde woman’s cheeks heated up from hearing that, just a little bit.

“Did… did he say so himself, dearest Rose?”

The girl shook her head slightly, before looking towards an empty corner of the room for a moment.

“No… but I just know it, Aunt Bela. Daddy likes you… a lot…”

“Oh, little one… I like him so… so much , as well…”

Bela kept playing with the girl’s curly hair, marveling at how bright the child was. She was so young, yet already so keen in her perception of the world. The pleasant mood couldn’t last, however, as Rose’s next words made Dimitrescu's black heart skip a beat.

“Mommy is not coming back… is she?”

Who told her that? Did Ethan regain consciousness for a while and spoke about it already? Was it Daniela!? Damn it.

“I am sorry Rosie… it’s not a simple thing that happened to your mother. Let us wait for your daddy to wake up and then we shall talk more about it, alright dear? I’ll be right here for you, until then.”

“Alright, Aunt Bela...but I already know that mommy is not coming back any time soon… She is really mad at daddy and you.”

The girl kept staring at that same empty corner as she spoke; her words making Bela herself unnerved.

Who the fuck can’t keep their mouth shut? Cassandra, if that was you, I swear…

“Did you guys do… something bad to make mommy so mad that she hates daddy now?”

Oh my God.

Bela suddenly found her normally sharp wit unresponsive. Rose herself helped the woman out of her dumbstruck predicament with her next spoken sentence.

“Mommy’s not here...but she is alright… and daddy's alright, and you’re alright… and your own mommy is alright... “

Despite the girl’s reassuring words, she started sobbing slightly and Bela felt fresh wetness dropping down on the bare skin of her own arms. Desperate to bring at least some comfort to the distraught child, the blonde Dimitrescu cuddled Rose close to her own chest; Bela’s palm tracing gentle patterns on the girl’s head all the while. Through snot and tears, the tiny child choked out a question that made Bela’s own heart ache with pain.

“Does... mommy... hate me... too, Auntie Bela? Did I do...something... wrong?” 

The girl was sniffing hard as she whimpered out the harsh words, making something snap in the blonde woman. Recovering her wit and once again finding her voice, which was firm, yet gentle, Bela responded.

“No, my dearest Rose. Your mother loves you, despite everything - that much I can tell you with certainty. And you did nothing wrong, precious one…”

The girl continued to sob and sniffle quietly, yet Bela’s soothing voice and gentle touch eventually caused Rose to calm down a little. Still staring into that empty corner, the child yawned cutely, implying that she was quite tired. They all were - the violent night was exhausting both physically and mentally.

Bela smiled lovingly upon the daughter that was not hers and started humming a lullaby that brought the three sisters much comfort, during their own formative years. Even though none of them ever had a child's body themselves, the Dimitrescu daughters’ minds were all blank states upon their rebirths.

“Culca-te, puiut micut,                    

 Culca-te si te abua

 Pâna mâine-n dalba ziua.

 Si te culca si adormi

 Pâna mâine-n dalbe zori.”

Rose snuggled closer into Bela’s warm embrace, her tiny hands enveloping themselves around the woman’s left arm. The blonde Dimitrescu’s free hand kept stroking the girl’s head, ever so gently.

“Abua – bua – bua,

 Abua, tucu-l maica,”

Bela took a moment to place a tiny peck at the top of the girl’s head.

“Nu te teme tu de zmei,

 I-a goni maica pe ei.”

Rose’s sniffing almost completely subsided, Bela’s dulcet voice doing its magic, despite the unfamiliar words being spoken.

“Puisor cu ochi de mure,

 Maica-i dusa la padure,

 Ti-a aduce gatejoare

 Si ti-a face scovergioare.”

Soon, likely from the combination of grief, exhaustion and Bela’s melodic voice, the girl fell asleep - her light snoring betraying her lack of presence in the waking world. The blonde Dimitrescu smiled down upon the precious child of the man she swore to protect and fully relaxed herself, embracing the sudden silence that engulfed the pleasant light-blue hospital room.

Glancing at the peacefully sleeping form of Ethan next to her, the elder daughter couldn’t suppress a wide, tired yawn of her own. The hectic events of the violent night had finally caught up to her, as well, it seemed.

Feeling completely safe and secure among her loved ones, Bela closed her amber orbs slowly and simply sat there, still holding on to Rose protectively. Her free right hand drifted towards Ethan’s own one, on its own volition - placing itself gently on top of it. As minutes turned into an hour, the blonde woman drifted into her own exhaustion-induced slumber.

***

As Alcina roused from her dreamless sleep, she immediately mentally prepared for the next, inevitable round of agony. Surely, a butcher in a white coat will come in soon, eager for yet another pound of her flesh. And that horrid little woman would be watching, as she always did. Always watching. Always watching … 

Hardening her resolve, Alcina was determined not to yield, not until her dying breath. No matter what came her way, she would not break. Not to a man. Nor to a woman.

Instead, as her tired yellow eyes opened - expecting to once again gaze upon that spotless, clinical white cell of hers - they saw soothing light blue. The recollection of the previous night immediately rushed in like a tidal wave, making the countess audibly gasp.

My daughters… they came for me… it was not a mere dream, after all...

For a moment, overcome by emotion, Alcina made no motion, simply staring blankly at the calming light blue ceiling. The unpleasant part of her newest joyous reality came knocking soon enough, however.

The countess felt her whole body itch. The kindly doctor did inform her to expect that particular irritation, since her numerous rashes would sting painfully as they healed rapidly. She gave a small sigh in gratitude for the fact that at least some small part of her previously prodigious regeneration remained. Yet her body felt so weak. So unbelievably, disgustingly weak. Her fragile left fist clenched in impotent rage.

Perhaps one day, she could regain her former glory, but for now Lady Dimitrescu had to rely on the kindness of strangers and that very notion was simply unbearable to the prideful noblewoman. Nevertheless, the dark thoughts were swiftly dismissed as she beheld the familiar auburn-haired head, snuggling into her right palm. A thin line of drool was trailing down from Daniela’s partially-open mouth, hydrating her mother’s parched skin.

My precious baby girl...

Alcina couldn’t suppress a loving smile at the sight of her cherished youngest kneeling at the side of her bed like that.

My beautiful daughters… I still scarcely believe my own eyes as I see you again… you came for me...after everything… What did I ever do to deserve so much love from you?

Her clenched fist was quick to morph into an open palm as she tried to gently pat her beloved daughter’s head with it.

Even that smallest of motions was enough to awaken the redhead, however. 

Daniela’s now wide open molten gold eyes were hazy for a moment, yet they were quick to shift to a focused gaze filled with so much love that Alcina couldn’t suppress the urge to gulp from shame.

How can this feeble body of mine deserve such adoration? My Daniela… how can I ever repay you for such kindness?

“Mama! You’re awake! You need some maiden’s blood!? I’ll go fetch it! I’ll get Cassi here, as well! Don’t go anywhere! Be right back!”

Just like that, in a swarm of happily-buzzing insects, Daniela was gone, leaving only the mirthful atmosphere behind. Regardless of her own condition, how could Alcina be sad when such a bundle of joy was always nearby, so eager to lighten her day, no matter how dark it turned?

Smiling, the countess turned her head to her left, with some effort. The soft smile immediately shifted into a confused frown as she beheld the sight that greeted her in that direction.

There sat her beloved eldest, her chair angled sideways, allowing Alcina to gaze freely upon her pride and joy.

The confusion came from the fact that Bela was clutching that woman’s child close to her heart, as she seemingly slept next to that woman's husband's bed, with her own hand on top of his.

Alcina trusted her eldest implicitly, especially after the events that took place two years ago, yet this newest development was... worrisome.

What is it that you feel for that man, my daughter, that you hold his child as if she was your own?

The man in question, to Alcina’s surprise, suddenly lurched his upper body up, horror plain in his wide brown-grey eyes and sweat cascading down his brows. Ethan’s left hand shot to his thigh, likely where a pistol or a knife holster was normally located. Failing to procure the desired weapon, the distressed man looked around wildly, before his panicked gaze stopped on a figure sitting to his immediate right.

Slowly, but surely, fear of the monsters from his nightmares was replaced by fondness, as his emotional eyes returned to their normal shape - raw affection glinting in them now, instead. The way he was looking at Alcina’s elder daughter was not that different from the way Daniela gazed at the countess herself just moments ago. With adoration one would only direct at the person he or she cherished with every fiber of their being.

Lady Dimitrescu narrowed her own yellow eyes as she beheld this presumptuous man-thing that dared to gaze upon her daughter that way. This brazen little mortal, so shameless in taking the whole of her beloved child’s form with his wandering, insatiable man-eyes. 

Alcina had to stifle an indignant gasp as the man’s lecherous orbs lingered at a spot near the top of Bela’s unbuttoned blouse. Any maid that used to be in Dimitrescu’s employ would’ve been subject to a severe lashing, courtesy of Cassandra, at the very least, for such an affront. Their other ‘guests’ would’ve paid for it with their very eyes.

Yet this vile man went unpunished for such a transgression. This very man that had caused such upheaval in their lives, two years ago. This little weak man that Alcina’s eldest chose to be her accomplice in her plot to depose Miranda, going behind her own family’s back in the process.

Ethan Winters

Alcina couldn’t stop her chapped lips from curling in distaste at that name. She didn’t like it. She didn’t like the uncouth man behind that name, either. His unkempt dirty blonde hair. His hideous, three-fingered left hand. His plebeian brown-gray eyes. His stupid loving smile as he couldn’t get enough of the sight that was her daughter, sleeping peacefully with his child, at his side.

The vile man-thing’s many shortcomings were plain to Alcina’s scrutinizing gaze, yet his biggest sin was one born from association.

Mia Winters

The woman that made Alcina what she was today - weak, sickly, infirm. Reliant on others for everything. The so-called scientist in charge of ‘harvesting’, as they had called that tormenting procedure.

The countess couldn’t possibly forget the excruciating agony as they took her flesh, again and again and again and again! Never having enough. Never satisfied. Not until they took everything she had to give.

And Mia Winters was always there, always watching, just behind that accursed black glass. Alcina could never see her, but she always felt her foul presence without mistake - standing in cold judgement, always watching. What she wouldn’t give to have a chance at tearing that atrocious woman apart with her own claws.

Yet Mia Winters was beyond Alcina’s reach. Because this cowardly, weak man-thing could not pull the trigger, even when Mia - his own wife - had ordered his death. The countess’ fists clenched, gripping the bed sheets in silent fury.

Alcina Dimitrescu wanted to hate Ethan Winters. She truly did. 

But how can one hate the person so clearly beloved by her own cherished daughter? In addition to her gentle soul, Bela had a keen mind and a keener yet intuition. If her eldest saw something worthy of love in that crass man, was it truly Alcina’s right to claim otherwise? To say that this man deserved nothing but derision and contempt? 

No...

The Dimitrescu matriarch's hands relaxed once more. She couldn’t help but focus on the aspects of his character she intentionally overlooked previously. 

The man was instrumental in ending Miranda’s reign over the valley, finally setting their family of four free, seemingly so long ago now. More recently, Alcina could not suppress her shock at the fact that Ethan - their own briefly held captive, of all people! - had helped her daughters in their quest to rescue her. Whatever his own reasonings were, it was clear to the countess that the man had provided vital aid to her dear girls, and Dimitrescu always pays her debts.

Finally, could she truly blame him for letting that horrid snake of a wife of his go? Despite everything, Mia was still the mother of his child. 

Would I, myself, have done differently in his position? No...

Two years ago, Alcina was in a position somewhat similar to Ethan’s, in fact. But even then, when - just for a few moments - she was sure that Bela had betrayed her, her whole family, the countess could not even entertain the idea of ending her beloved daughter. That whole concept was simply inconceivable to Alcina. Back then, she briefly pondered upon the possibility of exile, but in that freezing weather that would’ve been the same as killing Bela herself. And Alcina would never go through with that, regardless of what she thought Bela had done.

Ultimately, even if her tormentor had escaped and was likely plotting the next way she could harm the Dimitrescu family, the matriarch could not deny a simple fact.

Ethan could’ve joined Mia and together they would’ve surely ended all four of them - helpless as they were in that moment. He didn’t. The man stood in defense of Alcina and her three daughters instead, demanding aid for them; fighting and bleeding for them .

It would take more than that to convince Alcina that this man was truly worthy of her precious child’s affection, yet she could not deny his remarkable efforts. At the very least, he was worthy of her genuine gratitude and a measure of her respect.

Her frown shifted into a small, barely perceptible smile. Suddenly, that commoner name of his was no longer that offensive to her sensibilities, neither was his uncouth appearance. As she spoke her first words to him, Alcina’s somewhat hoarse voice still had all the regality and dignity it held two years ago.

“Well well, Ethan Winters...”

***

Ethan almost screamed out loud as he awoke from a particularly horrific nightmare. Goddamn Jack Baker with an axe carving a hole in the wooden door Ethan himself hid behind; just to try and fit his maniacally-grinning head in through the opening and yell: “Here’s Johnny!”

His left hand instinctively shot towards his non-existent holster, which was a surprise on its own, since his dominant hand was the right one. Apparently, his healthy arm was occupied by something more important than immaterial threats, as his gaze soon found out.

Any feeling of danger or distress evaporated the very instant Ethan’s eyes fell upon the peacefully still forms of his beloved ones. The man simply couldn’t tear his gaze away from this majestic, enchanting sight, so he simply marveled at it for a few moments.

Bela Dimitrescu sat on a chair right next to his bed; his Rosie perching on her lap. Both the woman and the girl appeared soundly asleep - completely at ease with their current entanglement. Bela held one arm protectively over the child, who in turn had her tiny head resting on the woman’s shoulder. The woman’s right palm was placed right over his own, once again making him marvel at how soft and warm her skin was.

Despite all the horror and brutal violence that had occurred over the last week, Ethan realized that he wouldn’t have traded this beautiful, wholesome moment for anything. 

Seeing Rose, so secure and so comfortable within the larger woman’s loving embrace made Ethan’s own heart swell with a particularly potent feeling that he dreaded to give name to. Still, he was no coward, and he could run from the simple truth no longer. Regardless of how wrong this was, or how improper their relationship could be, the man finally admitted the uncomfortable fact, internally - for now.

Ethan Winters loved Bela Dimitrescu. He wanted to be with her.

Freed from doubt, for just a moment, Ethan’s gaze couldn’t help itself as it wandered towards the woman’s exposed cleavage, which was partially visible as Rosie’s tiny form leaned to her side. The man gave an audible gulp as improper thoughts immediately started rushing through his mind at the lovely sight of her perfect breasts, their shape clearly visible through the thin blouse and the black bra behind it.

The tiniest speck of shame was quick to ignite a roaring inferno of regret. The ghost of Mia that still haunted him would not relent so easily as memories flooded his guilty conscience. The man couldn’t help but conjure images of his beloved wife in their happier moments and try to compare them to this current picture of tranquility before him. One moment of heartwrenching betrayal, no matter how cruel or unexpected, could not overwrite years of genuine love. A thousand ‘what ifs’ danced around his erratic mind, none of them helpful, yet all of them too persistent to simply dismiss.

Before the man was completely consumed by the phantoms of his past, a voice - an oh-so-familiar voice - took him out of his guilt-filled rumination. The tone and the words spoken were exactly the same as he still vividly recalled. His blood chilled in his veins as the horrific memories of that day replaced the regrets and remorse over his wife’s status completely.

“Well well, Ethan Winters...”

Turning his gaze towards the source of the fear-inducing voice, Ethan was surprised that he had missed the bedridden woman before. Bela’s enchanting visage in that same direction likely had a big part to play in that particular issue, however.

Ethan was more than a little bit shocked at Lady Alcina Dimitrescu's current appearance. In that facility, he only had a brief moment where he could witness and process her newest condition, and even then it was overshadowed by his confrontation with Mia and her guards, but now…

Now Ethan could do nothing but gape at the pale, small, sickly-looking woman that stared back at him with her vicious yellow orbs - they alone remained the same. Alcina’s skin looked like it was a size or two too big for her own feeble body now and her face appeared gaunt, as if it was drained of all fluids by some malicious mastermind - likely his own wife, the man realized with some discomfort.

Unamused by his likely rude staring, the countess just clicked her tongue in annoyance and turned her face to gaze at the ceiling, instead.

The lone father wanted to say something, yet found his mind in a blank state. He was absolutely unsure about how to start a casual conversation with a previously gorgeous nine foot-tall vampire lady that had captured him to be eaten alive; only to end up as a shriveled, shrunken husk on a hospital bed next to him.

 

Lady Alcina likely found herself in a similar conundrum as the tense silence ensued. The woman briefly glanced towards the porthole - she now recalled that it was early morning when she was brought in here. The last dying light of the sun was visible through it, implying that it was evening already.

Suddenly, a loud stomping noise broke the quiet serenity of the sickbay as a pair of powerful legs made their way inside. Alcina recognized the gait immediately. Her most obedient daughter, always eager to enforce her will.

Cassandra, my dear child… What have I ever done to deserve such devotion from you?

The fierce brunette was standing in the doorway, her eyes alight with passionate emotions. Normally, Alcina would berate her beloved but, admittedly, somewhat crass child on her choice of attire for the day - that horrid metalhead shirt - but today, she could not contain the joy from simply seeing her lovely daughter.

“Hello, my beautiful dove.”

“Mom… you’re alright!”

The middle Dimitrescu child wasted no time in lying down on the helpfully large hospital bed Alcina occupied, huddling herself close to her mother. Again, Ethan could only gape at such an emotional display of affection from the normally violent and even somewhat nasty woman. Alcina was not surprised in the least, however, as she gently embraced her child.

“Because of you, my love.”

 

Bela herself finally roused from all the spoken words; her bright eyes still with sleep in them. Switching her gaze from checking on her mother and sister to looking down at Ethan; she gave the man the loveliest smile he had ever received in his whole life, making the butterflies in his stomach flutter. 

“You’re all awake, and I missed it! Ah, shame on me!”

Her melodic voice, so full of joy now, sounded beyond merely beautiful to Ethan’s ears. Bela was quick to clutch his hand as her own was still on top of it. The man couldn’t help but blush slightly, once again feeling himself a mere schoolboy from his reactions to the simple gestures of affection.

Rosie was the last one to finally rejoin them in the waking world. Her tiny eyes widened instantly as she saw her father awake. The little girl did not hesitate to leap upon him, crying in mirth, Bela letting the child go with a happy laugh of her own.

Even though his still sore chest hurt from the sudden pressure, the father did not miss a beat in embracing his precious daughter in a warm hug of his own, as Bela finally let go of his hand, to accommodate the motion.

As if in payment for the sudden loss of touch, Bela’s soft lips were quick to engulf his own, in a passionate yet painfully brief kiss. Propriety and decency was the last thing on his mind at this most pleasant of gestures from her. The slight tinge of iron that would’ve surely disturbed him before only excited the man this time. Before he could return the favor in kind - to truly get a taste of her divine lips - the woman broke contact, yet her playful eyes held the promise of more to come, later. 

Bela made her way to Alcina’s bed, before repeating the motion Cassandra did moments ago, taking her own place on the other side of her mother, her arm placing itself over both Alcina’s and Cassandra’s forms.

Even as he hugged his own dear child, Ethan could not help but admire the love the Dimitrescu girls had for Lady Alcina. Even if the purity of that singular emotion could not completely eclipse all the evil deeds committed by the family, it sure as hell made Ethan believe in second chances.

Not letting him ponder too long on that, a light cough brought his attention to a corner of the hospital room on the other side of his bed.

There stood Eveline, still in that somewhat goth dress of hers. The girl stood with her arms folded, as if annoyed at being left out. She spoke in a condescending whisper as she realized that his attention was finally on her.

“I told some things to Rose while you were in La La Land. In a nice way, of course.“ - Eveline added as she noticed Ethan’s eyes narrowing at her previous statement. - “She needed some comfort, too, you know…”

Ethan momentarily felt ashamed that he immediately assumed the worst of Eveline. Despite her own atrocious past deeds, the girl was nothing but helpful to him lately, literally saving his life - multiple times. And now, she was also comforting Rosie, even as she stood aside - an outsider. Checking over his shoulder to make sure none of the attention was on him, the man whispered a short request to the goth girl.

“Come here…”

Eveline’s light green eyes widened in surprise, as Ethan held one hand out, as if inviting her to join them in their familial embrace. Thinking for a moment, the girl grinned wide as she jumped in, Rose making way for her and the father himself embracing them both in a loving hug.

Even though he knew it was merely his mind playing tricks on him, and she was not actually there, her body felt quite solid to his hand, nevertheless. The man could only hope that nobody would look their way right now, as they looked mighty weird - hugging an invisible person - indeed.

The loud buzzing that came next finally heralded the arrival of Daniela, a tall glass with dark red liquid carried along by her swarm. Seeing the situation and desperate to join in, the insects were quick to place the glass on a small table nearby, before fluttering right over Alcina’s bed and coalescing together as the familiar redheaded girl in a colorful summer dress.

With a joyous shriek, Daniela slammed down on the bed, right on top of Alcina - her sisters making sure to catch her with their own limbs, lest she’d crush their diminished mother in her unbridled display of affection.

“Daniela!”

“Be careful dofus!”

The two older sisters were careful not to mention the reason for the newfound need of caution, showing their considerate natures. Daniela, realizing her blunder quickly, went red in the face from the shame.

“Sorry, mama…”

Whatever reply Alcina made was lost on Ethan, as the press of three bodies around her muffled it too badly for the man to hear. The three girls took a moment adjusting themselves, letting Daniela keep her spot on top without exerting too much pressure on Alcina herself.

The whole tangled mess of bodies looked awkward to say the least, but Ethan imagined that this ‘group hug’ was an important ritual for the Dimitrescu family for a long time. The dimensions might have changed, but the feelings have not…

“Auntie Bela is so nice… I am glad her mom is okay… ’sniff’ when will my mommy come back, daddy? Evie says she is mad at you...”

The only reason Ethan wasn’t dreading this moment was the fact that the man was unconscious for the majority of the time that passed since his confrontation with Mia. Still holding his baby girl tight, the father racked his brain for any consoling thought to give voice to. 

“We don’t need her anymore. Aunt Bela is nice, isn’t she? She could be our new mom!”

Eveline, breaking free of their embrace, now lounged on the edge of the bed, her legs dangling playfully as she spoke the cruel words. On one level, Ethan could even relate to her statement, but the husband of ten years in him was appalled at the expressed callousness. The father couldn’t help but hiss out a reprimand.

“Don’t say stuff like that, Eveline! Regardless of what happened between us, Mia is still Rose’s mother! Nothing can ever change that fact…” Having whispered that, Ethan gently detached Rose from himself to look her right in the eyes as he spoke the next part, as softly as he could.

“Even though I cannot condone what your mom has done, I know with all my heart that she still loves you more than the whole world, my dear Rosie. I don’t know when, but I am sure that we will think of a way to reunite you two, one day. Just stay strong for me, until then? Can you stay strong for daddy?”

His child just nodded, even as she continued sniffing. Ethan’s heart was heavy with grief. Surprising him, Evie turned back to lovingly smile upon Rose. The imaginary girl then proceeded to place her palm on the real one’s shoulder, as she spoke her own reassurance.

“I guess daddy is right, for once. Mia is your mom, and it's okay that you miss her. But think about all the wonderful new people we’ve met already on this adventure! Bela and her sisters are so fun, right? Uncle Tom is a great guy and his stories are amazing! The Duke is...kinda shady, not gonna lie, but his yacht is the best thing ever!”

Amazingly, Rosie gave a soft giggle at that. Ethan was utterly flabbergasted that the ghostly girl that was responsible for so much suffering, his own included, was now effectively consoling his daughter.

The father attempted to place a gentle hand on Eveline’s shoulder as he muttered out a muffled ‘thank you’ but this time, to the man’s surprise, his hand went right through her incorporeal form.

Seeing his hand poking through her imaginary body, Eveline merely snickered, before proving an explanation for the curious phenomenon. 

“Sorry, daddy, it actually takes some effort on my part for you to be able to touch me.”

As if in on the joke, Rosie let out a small laugh, which Eveline quickly picked up, even as they shared a small embrace of their own. 

Ethan himself let out a small chuckle before taking a moment to check up on the Dimitrescu family with his gaze. The three girls still encircled their beloved mother, yet their positions were shifted to be more comfortable. As the bed was not large enough to accommodate four people lying on it vertically, the women took it as their cue to lay horizontally, throwing the pillow and the sheets out of the way.

All of them but Daniela were lying with their legs towards the entrance to the room, the redhead doing the opposite. The youngest Dimitrescu, who was slightly raised on her elbows, was directing her curious gaze right at Ethan, making the man’s heart skip a beat. Her lips were open in an obvious question. Who are you talking to?

Oh, fuck...

An annoying giggling immediately followed, as Eveline herself was clearly amused at his newfound predicament. The laughter quickly died out, however, as another person entered the sickbay. Suddenly, the joyful ghostly girl lost her mirthful spark as she shot up to her feet and leapt back to her original place at the corner of the room. With her horrified expression, she reminded Ethan of a scared and cornered animal and the father couldn’t help but feel a tinge of sympathy for the monstrous child. The source of her distress became apparent as a large, powerfully-built man slowly but surely made his way towards Ethan’s bed.

The harsh, emotionless grimace on Chris’ face made Ethan force himself to suppress a gulp, as the fearsome man stopped right at the foot of his bed. While Winters was pleasantly surprised to finally see Chris keeping his word and coming to his family’s aid, the coldness of his features was unnerving. The staring contest that ensued lasted mere five seconds, yet it felt like an eternity to Ethan. Finally, the large man forced himself to give a strained smile, which took a genuine tone as Chris switched his gaze to Rose’s tiny form. His greeting was warm, but it betrayed the enormous strain the captain was under. Ethan could only imagine the weight that was put on that man’s wide shoulders.

“Ethan… I am truly glad to see you in one piece. It’s unfortunate that you wake up to the world that wants you gone.”

***

The Duke smoked a cigar as he observed his two most loyal companions. Both of them looked uneasy. At their expression of anxiety he gave a short but mirthful chuckle. Both of them were still young, inexperienced in ways of life. Predictably, Millie spoke first, even as Tom folded his arms and looked at his boss dejectedly.

“I just hope all this stuff is gonna be worth it. I’ve gone through hell and back to get it here…”

“Don’t forget all the people who died for it…” Tom was quick to mention that grisly detail.

“I do truly apologize for all the hardships you’ve endured in the last week, Millicent. But I assure you, what you found will be a gamechanger. That Dire Wolf prisoner - good call in bringing him alive, by the way -  in addition to the recovered items from the facility will prove instrumental in our fight against our enemies. And as regrettable as the loss of life was, it was a cost that had to be paid.”

The woman just scoffed and nodded. She got more than a few grey hairs in the last week. Tom was next to voice his thoughts, once again, in a predictable direction. The young man’s kind and caring nature was a blessing, even if sometimes it was also a hindrance.

“So… what did you tell them, boss?”

The Duke took a long huff of his cigar, even as he admired the beautiful 

‘Lady with an Ermine’ painting. He truly couldn’t get enough of that majestic piece.

Such a masterpiece…

Finally giving in to the questioning gazes directed at him, he answered the question.

“Everything they needed to know, Thomas.”

Millie gave an audible sigh of relief at that, before speaking in turn - her voice still bitter, however. “Thank God…”

Thomas was not satisfied, as his own response made that plain. “So you are still keeping the truth from them, then? Don’t you think they deserve to know it, especially after everything they’ve been through?”

Millie herself exploded at hearing that, her metallic-grey eyes burning holes in the taller man's side. “God, Tom, I swear sometimes I think that you’ve been dropped on your head as a baby!”

The man responded to that in an unsteady voice, his own soft green eyes narrowed in pensive thought. “Surely they will understand if we just apologize and explain the situation properly... They are not bad people…”

The shorter woman just scoffed at that. “Must be nice, playing Rosie’s babysitter! You are not the one being constantly treated to thinly-veiled death threats by Bela and Cassandra. It sucks, just so you know.”

“Well, I am done with all this deceit and half-truth. It’s not fair on them. They are hardly the monsters I thought them to be... All they wanted was a life of peace - a second chance. If you’re not willing to come clean, then I’ll…”

Tom could not finish his thought, as a large, titanium pen Millie always carried inside her breast pocket suddenly found itself hovering mere inches from his throat, its sharp edge poised to cut deep. Her voice was just as biting.

“Don’t you fucking dare to finish that sentence! Do you want to die!? Fucking Bela almost murdered me in the hallway today, just because of a hunch she had! I…”

“Millicent Stout! There will be no acts of aggression under my roof, thank you very much!”

Like a berated child, the dark-haired woman immediately took on an apologetic look, with the dangerous-looking pen quickly returning to its rightful place inside her grey shirt’s pocket.

“Sorry Duke...but you should’ve seen her fucking eyes! I could vividly picture that monstrous hand of hers breaking my neck like a twig. Tell Tom that he is a moron for even considering all that honesty bullshit…”

The Duke’s harsh visage at having his golden rule almost broken quickly shifted to a mirthful one, once again. “Ah, Millie, surely this is just your vivid imagination playing tricks on you! Miss Bela, breaking your neck? Preposterous!” The Duke took another long huff, savoring the taste for a moment before exhaling the deep plume of smoke and continuing.

“That said… I do believe that we would, in a point of harsh fact, win no new friends if we do it the way you propose, Thomas. Some bitter truths are best left forgotten - that’s a lesson I’ve learned long ago.”

The young man was glaring daggers at his female counterpart, who in turn looked back at him with genuine remorse. The woman mouthed a silent apology, with Tom nodding in consent shortly after. They traded small smiles of forgiveness next, the Duke grinning in turn at the sight of true camaraderie taking place before him. 

Everyone present here knew that Millie wouldn’t have actually hurt Tom, but her temper had always run hot, with anger quick to manifest, which in turn would sometimes lead to displays of physical aggression and intimidation. A trait the fierce young woman inherited from her father, no doubt. The daughter in question meekly continues Duke’s own thoughts, her voice no longer aggressive, yet still bitter.

“How would you even explain it to Dimitrescu without them biting your head off?” Millie adopted an apologetic pose once again, with her palms connecting together in a mocking gesture of peace, as she continued her thought in a playfully soft tone. 

“We are really sorry to tell you that we actually knew all along about Darius’ betrayal but decided to go along with it anyway, since we really wanted to find that mold laboratory we just raided and your dear mom was the perfect bait? But, since everything ended well, let us forgive each other and part our ways amicably?“ Millie dropped her pretentious pose and tone before concluding her performance: ”HAH! Cassandra will fucking murder all of us on the spot!”

Tom scratched his chin as he slowly muttered out a monologue of his own. “That’s the gist of it, but the devil’s in the details, my dear. At that point, it was a statistical inevitability that they would’ve been found - sooner or later. We merely took the opportunity to play out that scenario in a semi-controlled environment.” The man paused for a second, before leveling an admiring gaze at his boss.

“Of course, I am still amazed that everything went out almost exactly like you predicted it, Duke: Alcina herself captured but the daughters escaped the ambush and successfully pursued the invaders while following the breadcrumbs they left behind. Truly astonishing… how could you be certain it would go that way? The girls could’ve been taken as well, simply left lost and confused… or even killed outright.”

The enigmatic merchant merely gave a hearty chuckle at that, before responding in his jolly tone. “My dear boy, when you get to be my age, you’ll know the value of preparing for an eventuality beforehand. That day, I had quite a few pieces moving in the way that benefited us while hindering these crass mercenaries, allowing that horrid and unpleasant event to play out in our favor.” 

The Duke’s expression adopted a more somber tone, his beady eyes showing genuine remorse as he continued his mini-lecture. “There is never a certainty in anything, however... Our good friend Ethan taught me that much, two years ago.” The large man took another pause, once again considering the unbelievable events that had transpired, seemingly so long ago now. Giving a sigh, the rotund merchant proceeded, his tone regretful, but firm.

“Nevertheless, sometimes, you just have to take a gamble. And this time we won big. The Dimitrescus are whole and we got exactly what we needed. Let us not ruin our grand victory and the long, fruitful partnership with the unnecessary, ugly truths, especially since our guests are recovering happily, none the wiser. If there is nothing but grief that awaits you at the end of your chosen path, why take it in the first place?”

Seeing the younger man still not satisfied, the Duke concluded his idea with an offer. “And if that’s not enough, from now on, let us do our best in ensuring that our beloved Dimitrescu clients will be secure and happy.”

Tom clicked his tongue at that, in annoyance. “And to do that...well, we will have to dismantle The Connections, won’t we? Everything goes back to these fuckers...”

The Duke gave a booming laugh at that, even as he beheld his most trusted companions with almost parental affection. Two forgotten children that he had found long ago, during one of his trips out from the valley, at Miranda’s behest. They have grown to be fine young people and he was proud of his role as their guardian.

“Too true, my dear boy. The sooner we are done with them, the sooner we can all breathe free.”

Millie, more relaxed now, played around with her pen - the object flying around in the air as if held by an invisible hand. The inconspicuous writing instrument was both a surprisingly deadly weapon and an effective stress relief toy. Her voice was remarkably more calm now, as her primary source of anxiety was partially alleviated. Still, she sounded unsure as she spoke out her mind slowly and carefully.

“Can’t happen fast enough, if you ask me… And… once we are done with these bastards… maybe I can get to spend some time with the Dimitrescu family… get to know them a bit better. Believe it or not, Tom - I do like them and I am sorry for what they went through… and since we are - in a very twisted way - related, I do wish the best for them.”

“As do I, Millie.” The young man gazed upon his adopted sister-like figure with genuine affection. He knew that she was not a bad person, despite her sometimes ruthless personality and a short temper. Still, he was glad to hear that she shared his sentiment, at least partially. 

The Dimitrescu girls’ been through too much, and I wish it could’ve gone differently, but all we can do now is make sure the future will be kind to them. The Duke is right... the truth will only hurt everyone and help no one… Poor Rosie doesn’t need any more drama in her life, as well...

Their little meeting concluded, the two lieutenants exchanged a small but heartfelt hug and went to attend their own tasks, leaving the obese merchant alone. The enigmatic man decided to take the opportunity and catch a quick nap, even as worry gnawed on his own mind. Their chosen path was rife with hurdles and setbacks, and the grey clouds were gathering on the horizon -  a bad omen - yet he was determined to move forward. The time for doubts was behind him now, and the regret could wait its turn. They will yet see the light, if only they could persevere in the face of such an adversary.

Notes:

Believe it or not, I actually had a really hard time writing this chapter, as the details kept eluding me. It was incredible fun writing it, however, so I hope it turned out enjoyable!

Originally I wanted to have a conversation-like Alcina/Ethan segment here, but then I felt it would really fit better if it was mostly done through observation/thoughts. They'll still talk later, of course :D

Next chapter we will have some actual politics in this AU explained, as well as a built-up for the, ahm, action-intensive chapter after it.

As, always, I'd love to hear any opinions and ideas you might have, my dear readers! I'd really love to hear your thoughts about that last segment here, in particular :D

If anyone cares about the lullaby translation (I actually had my Romanian acquaintance confirm its translation for me):
Go to asleep my tiny baby,
Try to sleep and get asleep
Till the white dawns break the day.
Then wake up as a grown child. Fall asleep, my tiny baby
Till tomorrow in the dawn.
Fall asleep– asleep – asleep,
Fall asleep, your mother will gently kiss you
Don’t be afraid of bad creatures in the forest
Your mother is forever guarding and protecting you.
Little sweetest mother’s baby
With small eyes as dark blackberries
Your mother will go to forest
She’s going to bring you wooden pieces from the trees
And make crullers just for you.

Chapter 24: Haunted

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Ethan could only stare at Chris in apprehension at the latter man’s portentous words.

The world wants me gone? The hell does that mean?

At his dumbstruck and questioning expression, the captain only shook his head slightly, as if saying - ‘not now’ . Their wordless conversation drew everyone’s attention, nevertheless. 

Chris was an uncommon, yet familiar face to Rose, so she gave him a small wave, which the man returned half-heartedly, with a sad smile on his unshaven face. Eveline had nothing but terror in her green eyes as she covered in that little corner of hers.

The Dimitrescu girls, now all standing in front of Alcina’s bed, observed the man in silent caution, as he was still largely an unknown variable - a fresh contact, not yet proven to be reliable or trustworthy. Bela’s facial expression and posture was perfectly neutral, yet she made sure to be in between the dangerous man and her mother. Regardless of the surprisingly diplomatic words spoken by Chris earlier, they have known him for far too short a while to truly paint a picture of him.

Cassandra had a small smirk on her face, yet her eyes were slightly narrowed and muscles tense. It was clear that the brunette was ready to leap into action at the slightest provocation. Her previous flirting was momentarily forgotten, as she fully assumed her role as the protector of the family and was taking no risks in ensuring Alcina’s safety.

Daniela, who had barely had any contact with this powerful-looking outsider and knew for a fact only that he worked for an organization that dedicated itself to exterminating creatures such as her mother and her sisters, appeared remarkably different from her normal pleasant self. In this instant of time, the youngest Dimitrescu looked much like a threatened cat, with her yellow irises narrowed and posture upright and stiff. Her fingers were twitching slightly in a weird grasping-like motion, as if she actually expected to use her fingernails as a weapon. The redhead’s small but indubiously sharp fangs were put on display and Ethan would not have been surprised if she was about to start hissing.

The lone father, unable to miss the threatening display taking place right behind Chris, tried to defuse the potentially volatile situation.

“Hey, Daniela… Chris is a friend, he is not going to hurt any of you...right Chris?”

Daniela, trusting Ethan, relaxed just a bit; her vicious amber orbs still burning holes in the large man’s back, nevertheless. Somehow the blonde man himself wasn’t completely sure of the validity of his spoken statement, however. Ethan still remembered the captain’s loaded question, two years ago.

As if reading Ethan’s mind, Chris turned his scrutinizing gaze towards the Dimitrescu family, while speaking in a lively voice, to the father’s surprise.

“Ah yes, the noble Dimitrescu family, now whole. I can see now what you meant when you said that you’ve dealt with them appropriately.”

Ethan found himself at a loss for words; for a moment he simply gaped at the larger man.

If Chris was bothered by the fact that the three threatened daughters that could tear a man apart with their bare hands and teeth were mere feet away from him -  he made a superb impression of perfect stoicism as he folded his arms.

“While some aspects of their past are...troublesome, to say the least, I am willing to overlook that, since you’re vouching for them and since I’ve already seen them in action against our common enemy.”

‘For now, and as long as you’re pulling your weight’ went unsaid, yet Bela could easily read that in his narrowed gaze just the same. This man was willing to give them a second chance, but they had to prove themselves, as he would not hesitate to use the sins of their past against them. Nevertheless, that was good enough for the blonde daughter and she gave a quick nod to Cassandra even as she placed a calming hand on Daniela’s shoulder. The daughters relaxed and went back to sit on their mother’s bed. The large man continued.

“Your actions have put you on their radar now. The Connections will stop at nothing to bring everyone in this room low, and the only way to survive in the long term is to defeat them first.”

Upon hearing that, Lady Alcina herself surprised everyone with her next act. Clearly, the noblewoman was not satisfied with having her own fate dangling beyond her reach, not anymore. Standing up from her bed with some effort, the diminished countess, gently but firmly refusing Cassandra’s supporting hand, marched right up towards the brute of a man that towered over her. Lady Dimitrescu’s fierce amber gaze met the B.S.A.A. captain’s scrutinizing one. Not cowed by his intimidating presence in the slightest, the noble lady’s voice was unyielding in its resolve.

“Chris Redfield, was it? My fool of a brother spoke about you at length. While I loathe to solicit outsiders for help, my precious daughters mean the world to me… and if this horrid organization now threatens them as well, I will not rest until I see them brought low.” 

The countess’ chapped lips curled in distaste as her eyes narrowed to vicious burning slits, likely recounting her own treatment at The Connections' minions’ hands. The concept of vengeance against her tormentors was sweet, yet it paled in comparison to the burning need to keep her children safe. To the complete shock of everyone present, including her own daughters, Lady Alcina offered her hand, palm down and back angled forward.

Chris’ eyes were wide in surprise, yet apparently he was well-versed in etiquette and knew how rude it would be to refuse this unexpected and outdated gesture, as he cautiously took her smaller palm within his own hand. As her dainty, rash-covered hand approached his lips, Alcina couldn’t hide the disgust that was emanating from her yellow eyes. The very instant his lips made contact with her parched skin, the countess roughly pulled her hand back to her side, as if burned. The black-haired lady wasted no further time and spoke in a haughty voice.

“Then we are in accord. The Dimitrescu family will assist you in taking care of these miscreants, for good. You will find that our coffers run deep, and I will not hesitate to spent every last Lei if it will assure my daughters well-being and prosperity.”

Everyone just stood slack jawed. Chris and Ethan were simply amazed at such a direct offer of partnership from the reclusive Dimitrescu matriarch; as well as her selfless dedication to her own children. The daughters were dumbstruck at how their infamously misandric mother did not hesitate to put aside her man-hating and self-reliant ways as soon as Chris mentioned that the three of them were a target now. 

Mother truly loves us that much that she is willing to overcome her very nature the moment we are threatened…

With some annoyance, Bela felt fresh wetness accumulating in her eyes again. She really got quite emotional lately…

Regaining his wit, Chris simply nodded. Money was getting tight, and any contribution to their cause would surely help. He’ll still keep an eye on the Dimitrescu family, naturally.

Alcina wasn’t done, however. With infirm, delicate steps, she approached Ethan’s bed. The prone man finally took it as his cue to stand up himself, while placing Rose he was clutching all this time back on the floor. 

Looking him up from head to toes with a scrutinized gaze of her own, Alcina couldn’t help but scowl in disdain. Still… regardless of his plebeian appearance, the man’s action spoke loudly, indeed. At that thought, she couldn’t suppress a measure of respect from creeping into her yellow orbs. Just like with the captain, she offered a single dainty hand.

With some hesitation, the father accepted the offered limb with almost reverent gentleness. He was quite aware of Bela’s astonished eyes on him - this was her beloved mother, and he would be damned if he fucked up this unusual interaction.

Holding her small, dry-skinned hand as if it was a delicate flower, Ethan took his time slowly bringing it to his own parched lips. Afraid to show disrespect, the man gave it the slightest peck, before steadily pulling his lips away with his fingers still gently touching her wrist.

Ethan was pleasantly surprised that Alcina didn’t rush to pull her hand back the moment the ritual was concluded, like she did with Chris. With a start, the man realized that he wanted to make a good impression on Bela’s mother… Her next words, spoken with a measure of respect in her tone, made Ethan believe that he made the right choice in how he handled this unexpected situation.

“I see you’re aware of how to properly treat a lady, Mister Winters… most unexpected.” The countess turned her gaze away, glancing towards her daughters, before taking a deep breath and continuing.

“I won’t beat around the bush. House Dimitrescu owes you a debt of gratitude for your selfless actions in aiding my daughters, as well as myself. You will find that our appreciation is as generous as our wrath is horrible.” The shorter woman gave him a pointed glare at that, making Ethan force himself to suppress a gulp. Despite her greatly diminished stature and strength, the countess was still a fierce and fearsome woman and her presence still filled the room. Her glare was quick to give way to a softer gaze, however, as she spoke her next words, with an almost regretful tone.

“For what it's worth, I regret the part we played in keeping your daughter from you, Mister Winters.” The countess turned her eyes down at Rose as she continued.

“No child should be taken from their parents like that… “ Alcina made a motion with her free hand, as if to pat Rose’s head, but decided against it at the last second; the girl watched her curiously all the while, seemingly unafraid. “...I took no joy in the act, yet it was not ours to question…” The countess slowly withdrew her hand back to her side as she finished her little monologue.

This half-hearted apology of hers evoked mixed feelings in the slighted father as the rush of buried memories flooded in. Ethan felt his face flush in anger as he himself took a glance at his beloved child - the same one that was so callously torn to pieces by these so-called Lords and Ladies of the valley, seemingly so long ago now. 

Dimitrescu sure didn’t look particularly remorseful that day when she held all the cards…

The only thing that stopped the man from immediately producing a biting remark was a pair of amber orbs, gazing at both Ethan and Alcina with fascination and… hope .

This moment of forgiveness and moving forward had a tremendous value to the blonde Dimitrescu daughter - that much Ethan could glimpse from a single passing glance her way. The father knew well by now that the elder sibling, despite her strong exterior, had a sensitive heart and the harsh words that were begging to be let loose would only break it.

Bela deserved better than to have this beautiful moment of family reunion ruined by the pointless bickering he was about to start. Rosie didn’t need all this drama as well. Taking a moment further to gather his wits, Ethan finally responded - not with cruel, even if just, accusations - but with words of understanding.

“Miranda held everyone by the leash back then…” Having said that, Ethan glanced back at Bela, who simply stared at him with her expressive orbs widened. The blonde man gave her a small smile as he continued in a soft tone.

“Lady Dimitrescu, getting to know your daughters over the last week taught me that matters are rarely black and white… and my own wife’s actions truly drove that lesson home…”

“I see…”

Both Alcina and Chris reacted to that little speech of his with widened eyes and pensive looks, while all three sisters were clearly overjoyed, each in her own manner. Daniela was struggling to hold herself back from leaping at them with a bone-crushing hug. Cassandra was merely smirking proudly. Bela gazed at them with nothing but affection in her amber orbs. Rosie herself likely failed to fully grasp the issue being discussed, yet a small smile played on her own lips as well, the suddenly joyous atmosphere being infectious.

A beat of silence passed.

 

“TIME FOR A GROUP HUG!”

 

With a shrill cry, Daniela was upon them, one long arm wrapped around Alcina’s neck and another around Ethan’s as she gripped them with great vigor, pulling them together, with her own grinning face stuck in between.

“Come now, darling… this is embarrassing…”

Alcina was not amused, but made no motion, other than the half-hearted protest, to get out of her youngest’ grasp. With a wide grin of her own, Bela joined their embrace, one arm around her mother’s waist and another around Ethan’s, as the man himself engulfed Rosie with his own hands.

“Daughters! Stop this humiliating display at once!” 

Despite her words, the countess couldn’t suppress a joyous smile of her own from spreading across her face. With a wide, toothy grin, Cassandra was next to add to their circle, shoving herself in between her blonde sister and Ethan, momentarily disheartening the father as Bela’s gentle hand left his waist. A hearty slap against his rear followed, as Cassandra noticed the blonde man’s dismay.

“What, am I not pretty enough for you?”

Before Ethan could even respond to the vulgar gesture or the playfully sounding taunt, Cassandra had already lost interest in him, now turning her head to glance at the captain left outside. In a display of cat-like grace, the brunette woman reached her long limb to grasp Chris’ palm. 

“Come here, soldier-boy!”

Cassandra’s lean arm bellied her inhuman strength, as Chris found out for himself when she roughly and unceremoniously pulled him in. With a scowl and a scoff full of indignity, the large man, nevertheless, took his spot, with Cassandra’s hand firmly over his own waistline. 

Rosie was quick to offer the nice captain who was always eager to play with her a tiny hand of her own, which he accepted with a gentle smile, completing their little circle.

Eveline, overcoming her fear of the powerful bioweapons slayer, made her way inside the circle, passing right through Daniela, and snuggled close to Rosie, her little palm placing itself on top of the blonde father's hand that was still gripping Rose’s shoulder. The man couldn’t resist the sudden urge to reverse his hand to grasp her own. He immediately realized his mistake as he felt hot breath licking his earlobe.

“Who is your friend…?”

Daniela’s curiosity-filled whisper into his ear sent shivers running throughout his body. Her keen amber orbs were watching him like a hawk now, soaking every single detail and every motion he made. It seemed that while Bela was the smartest sister and Cassandra the strongest; Daniela claimed her title as the most perceptive one.

Ethan couldn’t make himself lie when directly confronted like that. His whispers back, right into her own ear, went unseen - as the others were distracted by Cassandra’s playful laughter as she slapped Chris’ rear this time.

“I’ll tell you later, alright? It’s kinda a long story...”

“Mhm... I’ll hold you to that…”

Satisfied, the redhead gave him a charming smile, before closing her eyes and letting out a sigh full of contentment.

“I love you all, guys... Well...maybe except for the big guy there, but I am sure that can change soon enough!”

Daniela’s mirthful attitude was truly contagious. If one could ignore that whole murderous man-eater thing, the redhead was probably the nicest person Ethan knew. Unable to hide an ear splitting grin of his own, the father let out a joyful chuckle, which was soon mirrored by everyone present, with varying intensity from individual to individual. Alcina and Chris were still quite reserved, while the rest enjoyed themselves to their hearts' content.

The gang stood like that for a few more moments, simply trading carefree laughs and happy smiles. Standing like that, in a circle of bitter enemies made loyal friends, Ethan suddenly forgot all of his woes and troubles. Naturally, such tranquility cannot last.

“As nice as…all this is, we do have something important to discuss.” Chris muttered the foreboding words even as he gently but firmly broke from Cassandra’s grasp and Rosie’s grip. Both the woman and the girl frowned as he stepped away, breaking their surreal circle of joy and beckoning forth the harsh reality.

At the questioning glance from Chris, Alcina merely waved her hand, dismissing the larger man, to his obvious ire; addressing her eldest, instead. The Dimitrescu matriarch appeared lightheaded and unsteady now. Clearly, eight hours of rest was not enough to overcome debilitating effects inflicted by her ‘treatment’.

“Bela, my dearest dove, would you be so kind and deal with the good captain in my place… I feel like I need to lie down for a bit…”

“Of course, mother! Just rest and let me take care of everything! You need to focus on recovering your strength.”

As Bela assisted Alcina back to her bed, Daniela kept grinning at Ethan with a knowing spark in her wide amber orbs. Eveline was quick to stand at her side and give the father a taunting smirk of her own.

Ugh… I guess that would’ve come to light eventually… I just wish it happened on my own terms.

Having had enough with the two grinning girls, Ethan took a moment to appreciate another bewildering scene taking place near him.

“I trust I am invited to your little gathering, as well?”

Cassandra was giving Chris her signature pleasant yet somewhat menacing smile as she asked the question. The man only folded his arms as he gave a brief answer.

“No.”

The brunette was undaunted, if her suddenly mischievous grin was any indication.

“I’ll come anyway.”

It’s like the powerful captain was waiting for that response, with his own lips twisting into an almost-playful smirk.

“Alright.”

Turning to face Ethan next, the large man gave another brief instruction, before promptly walking out. “Get dressed and meet me on that upper deck establishment, Ethan - I am sure you know which one. Time’s a-wastin.” Cassandra was hot on his heels, though she stopped to whisper something to both Alcina and Bela, kissing the former gently upon her forehead.

Ethan, though finding his body aching in places too numerous to count, did as told. Whatever Chris wanted to speak to them about seemed important.

As he was working on reapplying bandages to his still hurting limbs, Bela fluttered to his side. The woman was visibly giddy with excitement as she almost danced on the balls of her restless feet. He couldn’t suppress a slight shudder that went throughout his body as now Bela’s hot breath washed over his ear.

“I’ll get Tom to watch over Rosie and then catch up to you, sounds good?”

“Sure…”

The father gently patted his daughter’s head as Bela knelt in front of the tiny girl. Bela’s voice was as soft as ever as one blonde daughter addressed the other.

“Let’s go find uncle Tom, dear. What was the last fable he read you?”

“Red Riding Hood, Aunt Bela!” Rose was quick to wrap her small arms around Bela’s neck as the tall woman made a motion to lift the girl up, murmuring all the while.

“Oh? That’s nice! I wanted to tell you our local beloved fable as well, when it's just you and me, little one! You’ll love it!”

Before Ethan could protest that last point, Bela was already marching out, with Rosie pressed firmly against her chest. The tiny girl gave him a small wave as they departed, which he returned with a loving smile.

Not saying a word, Eveline followed them along. The man actually felt a presence of some kind receding from the back of his mind as the ghostly girl walked out. Possibly, despite existing in both of them, she could only ‘be’ in one place at a time? That was something Ethan was going to ask her, later.

As if on cue, a nurse with Ethan’s spare clothing walked in and placed them on his bed, before offering the man a liquid solution of Viridis Plantae. Downing the substance with a nod of gratitude; the father quickly went to dress up behind a white curtain.

Now in his simple summer outfit and feeling immediately rejuvenated by the imbued medicine, Ethan went on his own way, giving one last glance to already sleeping Alcina and ever-vigilant Daniela, in a chair next to her mother’s bed.

Daniela was hard at work - destroying a plate full of red meat; the meal apparently brought to the redhead by another young-faced and freckled nurse, who stared at the ravenous daughter in morbid fascination, from a safe distance. Several already empty glasses stood atop the bedside drawer, a couple of drops of dark red liquid still remaining in them.

As Ethan passed them on his way out, Daniela turned her freshly gore-soaked visage towards him. With her similarly bloodied two fingers, she made a motion from her two eyes towards his, implying that she was watching him. What was likely intended to be a friendly, playful gesture turned into a blood curdling and threatening display that made the man gulp, before sheepishly nodding in resignation and finally taking his leave from the hospital room. 

Ethan couldn’t help but consider the implication of his inevitable confrontation with the rest of the gang over the fact that he had a passenger in his head, who likely could take full control over his body, if she so wished. Chris, in particular, would not be happy to learn it...

As he walked through the empty halls towards that ill-fated bar, Ethan kept pondering on how exactly he would come clean with Eveline-related stuff without it being extremely awkward. Suddenly, a familiar buzzing sound coming from behind took him out of his musings. Mere moments later, the buzzing stopped and a pair of soft palms covered his eyes.

Daniela couldn’t wait to torment me about Eveline, huh? Not surprising.

“Listen, Daniela, maybe we can talk about it a bit later?” When I actually know what the fuck I want to say.

The giggling that followed sounded decidedly unlike Daniela’s.

“Oh? What is it you wish to discuss with my youngest sister?”

Bela’s voice sounded extremely playful, as that was clearly her current mood. In a swift movement, the woman took her palms off his eyes just to place them around his shoulders. One second later and the father was unceremoniously rotated 180 degrees, coming face to face with the beautiful blonde vampire. Her amber orbs were sparkling with mischief.

“Ugh… nothing?”

Ethan would’ve slapped himself right now if she wasn’t holding him. For a second, her eyes narrowed in suspicion, yet a moment later they relaxed again - the woman was simply in too good a mood and the issue wasn’t worth pressing.

“Haha, if you say so!”

“Someone’s in a good mood…”

Bela giggled again, before doing something truly shocking. Her hands shifted once more - too fast for him to react - before stopping just above his waistline. Once again proving her inhuman strength, the elder daughter proceeded to easily lift him up, before twirling in place.

Laughing loudly and in obvious joy, the swirling woman was making his head spin - no longer in just a figurative sense.

“Stop it, Bells!” Despite his words, Ethan couldn’t suppress his own booming laughter from resounding across the empty halls. She only paused for a moment - to change the direction of the rotations.

“Hah! I am just so happy, Ethan! Mother is alright, my sisters are better than ever and you…”

The woman finally stopped her spinning. Placing the dizzy Ethan back on the solid floor, Bela giggled loudly, as she leaned one hand on the wall for support - clearly unbalanced herself. Calming down a little, she looked at him with fondness and spoke with that lovely serenity she was known for.

“I was so afraid that you guys would be at each other’s throats… but instead you made up… Thank you, Ethan. I know how tempting it was to dig up the sins of the past.”

As the world stopped spinning, Ethan gave the woman a soft smile of his own.

“It was...but what purpose would it have served? Everyone was so happy… I’d hate to be a party pooper.”

Bela gave another charming giggle at that, her gentle hands once again finding themselves around his form - this time wrapping him in a firm embrace - which he returned, eagerly. As she nuzzled into his neck, the man started slowly tracing soft patterns on her back. Her silky blouse did little to conceal her hourglass figure.

Simply holding each other like that brought them both indescribable comfort. 

Bela felt both safe and loved in his warm embrace. Somehow the future seemed brighter… 

Ethan himself mirrored her feelings, but more than that - even the pain from the sting of Mia’s recent actions was dulled. For a moment, the man felt himself fully at ease, his burdens lifted - much like he himself was, mere moments ago.

“In some, probably twisted way, I am really glad that I stumbled into your castle back then. I still remember what you did for me, the comfort you provided in my darkest hour… Thank you... for everything, Bela.”

“That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard, and that counts for a lot, since Daniela is my sister!”

Bela pulled back a little from their embrace, her amber orbs not leaving his own. The woman then tenderly grasped his left hand - the one unforgettable, physical reminder of the gruesome trials he had lived through.

“You’ve gone through so much pain and suffering, Ethan. Some of it at my own family’s hands…” The blonde woman slowly brought his poor, mutilated appendage to her pink lips; her gaze still unerringly locked onto his.

Likely unknowingly to Bela, she was repeating Cassandra’s motions from two years ago, precisely so. The memories of that horrifying moment almost made Ethan close his eyes, as if in preparation for the pain of the brunette’s sharp teeth violating his flesh.

Instead, his poor three-fingered hand was treated to a series of feather-light and quick kisses. The feeling of Bela’s warm lips on his healed stumps managed to soothe the nightmarish apparitions of both the past and the future. Awestruck, the man could only gaze at her adoringly, as she continued her ministrations.

Apparently satisfied with the amount of love his hand received, the woman soon ceased her barrage of kisses and started to tenderly rub his hand with the thumbs of her own as she still held it with both hands. In a voice that was both playful and soft, she asked the man a surprising question.

“Ethan. Do you know what that name means?”

The father ran his right hand through his hair, sheepish at this unexpected inquiry.

“I am reasonably sure I checked it out at some point, but now I can’t seem to recall the meaning…”

Bela only smiled, before providing the information herself.

“It means enduring. Strong. Safe. I think it fits you exceptionally well.”

Ethan could only give an undignified snort at that. Lately it seemed all he was good at was taking injuries and passing out. Still, that gave him a thought for a comeback.

“Thanks, Bela. I also happen to think that your name fits you exceptionally well!”

And it did. In Ethan’s eyes, nobody was more beautiful than Bela at that moment. Her radiant face with these expressive amber orbs and full lips of hers. That simple yet undeniably sexy outfit that hugged her hourglass figure just right, showing the perfect amount of skin and these desirable mounds of flesh.

Surprising the man, Bela only scoffed at his response, before speaking, with some sadness in her voice.

“I appreciate the compliment, Ethan, but I doubt that my name means what you think it means. It does fit me, however - somewhat.” As soon as the dark mood came to her, it evaporated and Bela once again graced him with a wide smile. Another loving peck found its way towards his hand. And another… and another.

Finally, Ethan could handle this unbridled display of affection no longer. Giving the ethereal beauty with a golden heart one last adoration-infused glance, the man closed his own expressive brown-gray eyes as he did a shockingly bold gesture of his own.

His woes and grievances gave way to a surprising amount of suppressed desire as his lips slammed against her own.

Bela did not hesitate in responding in kind - it was obvious that she waited for him to make the first move for a while now. 

Their lips and tongues worked in enviable synchronicity as they explored each other's mouths while their hands struggled to hold their respective partner firmly enough.

This kiss lacked the raw desperation of their first one, yet it held all the passion and love; even more so. The previously forbidden feelings of lust were fueling this mouth-to-mouth air exchange, this time.

Even as their lips remained locked, Ethan couldn’t suppress the urge to give her shapely rear a firm smack. Bela responded with a surprised yelp before playfully biting on his lower lip, drawing a speck of blood that she promptly licked off.

The pain only exhilarated the man. As they paused for breath, amber orbs staring into brown ones, both felt the gnawing, physical need to take this a step further. Ethan struggled to resist the desire to undress her with his eyes first, his hands second. Bela felt her own cravings for a different kind of male flesh become unbearable as her keen eyes noted his rapidly bulging man-thing.

Ethan, slamming her into the hallway’s wall with just enough savagery to make the impact really register, but not enough to actually hurt her, stole another brutal but swift kiss from Bela; before once again losing himself in her depthless amber orbs.

Nibbling her own lower lip seductively, the elder Dimitrescu daughter batted her dark eyelashes at the man, as if inviting him to take her right there and then. Nobody was in their way now - or so she thought.

To Ethan, however, nothing was that simple. Her flirty display inadvertently triggered a memory of Mia doing exactly the same, not that long ago, even…The brown-haired wife made these very motions as she invited him to their bed, several months ago. They were happy together. Whole. And then everything happened...

For just a moment, the man could swear that Bela’s breathtaking visage was replaced by Mia’s. 

The phantom of his wife relented quickly, but even the brief presence of a mere memory, made vivid by the traumatic events of yesterday, was enough to kill the mood completely.

Backing away from the woman he had pressed into the wall, Ethan could only glance at her white sneakers, too ashamed and scared to look her in the eyes.

Even though no words were exchanged, the remorseful husband felt a pair of firm yet gentle hands once again taking him into a tender embrace. Her quiet voice was just as soothing.

“I understand. You need some time to process yesterday’s events…”

The man just scoffed, still not looking at her. His own voice was gruff, filled with bitterness.

“Not much to process there, Bells… Mia made everything as plain as it could be. Join her in her bioweapon-trafficking organization and let you girls become their labrats or die myself. It’s just… I never imagined her to be capable of such a thing… Was I truly that blind all this time? Was the loving mother and wife just a charade? You’re right… I do need time…”

“It’s alright, Ethan. I can wait. We can wait. Let’s go hear what Chris wanted to speak about, shall we?”

The blonde Dimitrescu relinquished his grasp on his shoulders, but not on his form, as her dainty hand shifted to hold his own now. Without further words, Bela resumed his previously thoroughly-forgotten trek towards the upper deck establishment, Ethan following only slightly behind. Somehow, the awkwardness of the situation evaporated like morning mist, as both of them seemingly drew genuine comfort from one another.

This time, Ethan was not bothered in the slightest as the few passersby beheld their entwined digits.

Notes:

Hope I didn't make Alcina too OC here. I wanted that hand-kissing greeting ritual to be of a particularly symbolic value - to show that she is willing to overcome her very nature to defend her daughters, especially since she realizes that she no longer can do so by herself. It's a pretty traditional if outdated gesture, especially among the nobility, overall.

Bela wants to read Rosie 'Village of Shadows'. Should I make a scene just with that? :D

I admit I got some conflicted feelings about Ethan/Bela ongoing romance. On one hand, I know that some readers are quite eager for a more explicit scene (and I am personally dying to write it myself, I already have a couple of interesting notes in my draft), on the other - I really don't want to rush it as it would do my characters no justice. So, it will probably not happen in the next chapter :(
Hopefully this hallway scene was enjoyable enough for now :)

Chapter 25: Midnight Resolutions

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Bela and Ethan walked all the way towards the R&R establishment hand in hand, raising more than a single eyebrow. Even though at this point there were likely rumors abound about them, such a shockingly direct display was still a surprising sight for the tired night crew.

Bela brought Ethan up to speed on their way, even as she wore that calm smile of hers. The man was imminently grateful not only for her impromptu first aid on him but also for the fact that the blonde woman carried him all the way towards their extraction point. Ethan smirked as he thought about all the time he spent in her arms lately. As long as he could swallow some of his masculine pride, that wasn’t the worst position to be in.

The Dimitrescu daughter was light on details about what exactly faced them as they left the foreboding mines, but it was clear to Ethan that it was an uncomfortable topic for her, so he didn’t press it. Instead, he was obviously overjoyed at the fact that Chris was there to bail them out, in the end. Bela made it clear that if it wasn’t for the large captain, none of them would be here now.

Shortly before reaching their goal, the pair was stopped by a youthful-looking female crew-member. The shorter woman snickered as she approached them, before whispering something into Bela’s ear. The tall blonde whispered back, as she swiftly passed the girl a pair of bills with the painfully familiar and unchanging visage of Benjamin Franklin on them. As the girl excused herself, giving Ethan a conspiratorial wink on her way, the man couldn’t help but ask the natural question.

“What was that about?”

Bela only hummed in that enigmatic way of hers, before providing a playfully taunting response.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Ethan was most curious indeed, but he figured it was something that would come up later, so he didn’t press the issue.

Moments later, the duo finally arrived at their destination; the familiar setting of this memorable place making the man grin. First he passed out right here - his body depleted after a spar with Cassandra. Then he almost made out with drunk Bela on that very sofa in the corner by the doorway. What pleasant/horrific surprise awaits this time?

Today, the bar held a number of interesting patrons, all of them basking in its soft reddish glow. The jazzy music was noticeably absent today, however. 

Ethan immediately noted five people that he saw once before - on an aircraft that carried his family out of that accursed Romanian valley, two years ago. The four men and one woman all stared back at him and Bela, whose hand he still held, with vastly contrasting expressions: amusement, disgust, envy, apathy and curiosity - it seemed like Chris’ ragtag bunch of misfits were as different in their personalities as they were in looks.

While the infamous Hound’s Wolf Squad were all enjoying their beverages on a table they occupied by themselves, their brave captain sat on a simple short stool by the counter - with Cassandra as his company. The brunette daughter was proudly showing the large man her cell phone - no doubt filled with grisly pictures of her victims in the past two years: beast and man alike.

On another small table in a corner was a passed out form of Millie - her ebony locks and grey dress suit unmistakable. Ethan didn’t take her for someone who would try to drown their sorrows like that; it seemed the last, particularly stressful, 24 hours that went far beyond ordinary left their mark on her, as well.

Finally breaking their handhold and pointedly ignoring Millie’s slumping shape, Bela marched right up the counter and took a seat next to Cassandra; the sisters exchanging nods of greeting. Not missing a beat, the blonde woman ordered a small glass of red wine - which she then proceeded to down in a single gulp. Both Chris and Ethan raised a single eyebrow at that. Clearly the blonde Dimitrescu was not shy about her alcohol consumption practices. Cassandra just giggled, before noting: “Behold! Miss Manners in all her glory!”

Bela merely placed a hand on her temple as she grumbled out a reply.

“Shut up, Cass.” The elder daughter glanced towards the barmen next, before curtly asking for another. Taking his own seat next to Chris, Ethan somehow felt that Bela was a bit more disappointed than she let on that their hallway encounter didn’t turn into something... more .

As Ethan ordered a shot of whiskey for himself, Chris patted his back with brotherly firmness, before giving him a genuine smile. The father grinned back - truly happy to be in the large man’s presence. This was the third time the B.S.A.A. captain bailed his ass out of the frying pan. 

The friendly mood stuck, even as Chris clicked on a TV remote that was lying nearby - likely in search of some horror to show them. A large screen at the top of a corner to their right lit up, showing a game of American football in progress.

“Alright! Go Eagles!” A burly, bearded man - Charlie Graham, if Ethan’s memory was correct - yelled out enthusiastically.

“Please. As if they got a chance in hell against the Giants.” Immediately responded another - a redheaded man with a cocky grin. Dion Wilson.

Giving a tired sigh as if dealing with children, Chris switched the channel. The group were treated to a fashion show of some kind next, immediately drawing Cassandra’s attention. As the captain tried to switch the channel once more, the brunette stopped his motion with a firm hand of her own, even as she spoke; a mischievous spark in her amber orbs.

“Oooh! Look at that dress, sister! I think it would fit you just right .”

That brought Ethan’s own attention to the screen. On it, a model was strutting around the podium in a truly majestic-looking dress. It was a beautiful maroon color; with a low triangle cut, partially exposed shoulders and an asymmetrical hem that bared quite a bit of thigh on its right side. Blood was quick to rush to Ethan’s face as he vividly pictured Bela in this gorgeous and revealing dress - highlighting her curves and natural beauty.

I have to agree with Cassandra here...

Bela’s favorite fruity wine did the trick as her mood was once again uplifted. Leveling her scrutinizing gaze at the screen, the blonde daughter hummed in thought.

“You think so, dearest sister? The hue is most enchanting, indeed, but doesn’t it look a tad revealing to you?”

Cassandra laughed loudly, even as she fought Chris’ fingers for the control of the remote. 

“Ah, you and your love of mystery! It is a crime to hide those legs of yours all the time, I say! I am sure Ethan agrees with me, here! Don’t you, Ethan ?” Cassandra purred out his name that same menacing way she did when they were… less friendly towards each other; a shiver ran throughout his body.

No shit

As much as that was exactly what the man wanted to respond with, he tried broaching the subject with a more diplomatic approach.

“Ahm, well...nothing wrong with a little mystery, I think. It makes the eventual reveal all the more sweeter.”

At that, Bela started lightly blushing herself, fidgeting with her empty glass meanwhile. As both Chris and Cassandra were leaning forward on their stools, Ethan had a clear line of sight at Bela’s face. The light pink tint gracing her normally pale cheeks was simply adorable to his gaze. Cassandra did not let him enjoy the beautiful sight of the object of his affection for too long, however, as she scoffed in annoyance, before speaking her mind at his response.

“Ugh! Eventual reveal? If you want something, you take it... “ Cassandra’s grip on Chris’ hand tightened as she hissed out these words. The large man himself visibly tensed from the increased pressure on his hand - though whether from discomfort, feeling threatened or some other emotion - was only for him to know. 

Seeing his reaction, Cassandra licked her black lips hungrily; her similarly black-painted fingernails scratching Chris’ own fingers, hard - drawing specks of blood. The captain shuddered just slightly at that. Not from pain - Ethan knew that it would take far more than a mere scratch to make that man flinch. The father could only stare at this bewildering display in silent fascination. What exactly was going on here?

What am I seeing…? Is CASSANDRA hitting on CHRIS? This world has officially gone crazy.

The brunette witch finally took her hand off Chris’ own - only to slowly, sensually lick her fingertips. Apparently, even mere drops of his rich vital fluid was enough for her to get a taste for it, as she let out a small moan of delight.

“Mhmmm… exquisite…"

Chris remained silent and stoic through it all; the man calmly resumed scrolling through the channels. Likely annoyed by his lack of reaction, the brunette scoffed and returned to the previous topic of conversation. Glancing at Bela, who was staring back at her in thinly-veiled curiosity, Cassandra spoke in a self-assured tone of a person who really knew what’s what.

“That said, I suppose it makes sense why you two nerds can't keep your eyes off each other. Mystery, my ass.” The brunette thought for a second and grinned evilly, before continuing. “...Or his ass? You think I miss all the glances you’re shooting dear Ethan’s rear when you think he isn’t watching, dearest sister?”

Bela was almost as crimson as that dress they just saw now. Ethan himself was doing only moderately better at the implication. Nevertheless, the man still felt the need to defend their blooming relationship verbally. Perhaps the words his flushed mind produced were not the wisest.

“Lay off, Cassandra. What Bela looks at in her spare time is none of your fucking business. As is our whole relationship, by the way.”

Bela hid her face behind her palms now, while Cassandra let out another booming laughter. The brunette roughly patted both Bela and Chris with her respective limbs, as she responded in a mirthful tone.

“Oh, dearest Ethan! Again you’re making me regret not taking that crass tongue of yours during our little spar! You keep using it for the wrong purposes!” The brunette witch hummed in thought as she stood up, making Ethan himself shudder as he knew that her threats were no mere bluff.

Thankfully, the middle sibling took her spot behind Bela instead; her powerful hands starting to massage the elder sister’s shoulders with clearly well-practiced motions. The blonde daughter leaned into the gesture eagerly, her tense muscles begging for relief - Ethan could hear the smallest moans of pleasures coming from Bela. The brunette woman continued her previous thought in that taunting voice of hers even as she worked on her elder’s sore shoulders.

“Look how tense and rigid my poor big sister is! Perhaps, instead of spewing all that nonsense about mysteries and shit you should put that little man-tongue of yours to a proper use - helping our beloved Bela relax and unwind from all the unpleasantness of late.”

At that, Bela finally found her voice back, even as she made no motion to get out of the impromptu massaging session.

“Cassandra!”

Despite the indignity of her tone, Bela’s hazy amber orbs flashed with hunger at the spoken implication. The mere thought of that act made wetness start gathering in her nether regions. 

Ethan could clearly see the dreamy expression on Bela’s red face - it made the man himself flush with desire. More than that, it made him feel ashamed for not noticing how physically stressed and exhausted the woman was, despite her spirited exterior.

Damn it… I am not the only one who’s been through a lot. Bela’s own body is probably running on fumes with all the worries and stresses of late, and still she just keeps it all to herself… always eager to provide comfort to others, but not to herself. I am sorry Bells… just give me a little time and I’ll make it up to you, I swear. 

“Aha!”

Seems like Chris finally found the channel he was looking for, as he straightened himself up, once again obscuring Bela’s beautiful visage from Ethan. 

“There we go - they were looping this shit all day. Perfect timing too. I recommend that you watch this carefully - all of you.”

The two sisters and the lone father did so. The TV screen showed some kind of a news broadcast now. A pair of anchors - a man and a woman, spoke at them with clearly faked passion.

“Thank you, Bill. It’s truly a horrible world we live in. Fortunately with B.S.A.A. ever vigilant, simple folks like you and me can still find some rest during the night.”

“Too true, Amanda. I dread to think how many more innocents these vile terrorists would’ve claimed if not for the timely intervention of our stalwart guardians! Mauritanians, as well as the world at large owes them a debt of gratitude for that selfless and courageous raid on the bioterrorists' lair!”

“Indeed; we would like to pass the next word to the man in charge of the raid himself. Captain Dane Wolfe - hero of the hour!”

The screen changed to show a man in desert fatigues. Fitting, since a dune of sand was right behind him. The man was cleanly shaved; with short, military-cut dark hair. A B.S.A.A. badge was clearly visible on the right side of his uniform. The man’s voice was gruff and uncompromising, and more than that - it was cold, completely dispassionate - almost robotic.

“Thank you, Bill, Amanda. The hidden bioterrorist facility has been a thorn in the side of this region for a long time and I am happy to fulfill my duty and finally end this menace. It is with great regret that I have to admit that several terrorists managed to escape our raid, however. They have been ID'd and we, working in tandem with Interpol, will do our best in bringing these criminals to justice. You have my solemn pledge that they will not escape us for long.”

The screen cut back to the anchors in their comfy studio. The woman adopted a comically serious expression as she spoke.

“Again, let us offer our most heartfelt gratitude to the brave men and women of the B.S.A.A. - risking their very lives on a daily basis! Now, let us look at these dangerous criminals - remember, if you see them, do not attempt to approach or to try and take them down yourselves, instead immediately dial the number you can find below.”

The screen cut to a line of text and a series of mugshots that made Ethan’s blood chill in his veins. This was a monumental occasion, a life-changing one, even.

 

‘Interpol’s Most Wanted - Class ‘A’ terrorists, to be taken dead or alive’

Bela Dimitrescu

Cassandra Dimitrescu

Daniela Dimitrescu

Ethan Winters

Millicent Stout

 

A beat of silence passed as the moldy gang took this blood-curdling revelation in. 

“Meh. I look fat in this photo. What a horrid angle, too. ...Are my cheekbones really that pronounced?”

Cassandra appeared absolutely unbothered by the fact that the whole world wanted to hunt her down now. She merely continued massaging Bela’s back as she scowled at her own mugshot. Chris himself shot her a moderately surprised glance, genuinely impressed that the woman was so nonchalant about her predicament.

Ethan himself had a million thoughts running through his head, Bela’s own expression mirroring his. The man rambled out a barrage of questions.

“Wait, what!? We are the terrorists? And that facility was our lair? How the hell could they spin in that way? Are B.S.A.A. actually working together with The Connections? What the hell do we do now?”

Chris gave a deep sigh at that, even as he flicked the TV off. Pinching the bridge of his nose and downing the rest of his whiskey, the large man started his explanation.

“Welcome to the shitlist, Ethan. B.S.S.A. does not work with The Connections in an official capacity - obviously - yet there are plenty of crooked officials within. When our ‘friends’ realized that your little raid on their regional HQ and R&D facility, as well as the bloodbath beforehand, would expose their dirty laundry - they called in a favor or two.”

Bela, with a pensive look on her still slightly blushing face spoke next, in a curious but not overly alert tone. Ethan supposed that being an enemy of humanity was nothing new for them, even if the scale of enmity was quite different this time.

“So...they just called in your soldiers on their own base? What about their personnel and material possessions?”

Chris responded without missing a beat.

“They evacuated what they could. Everything else - razed to the ground. No witnesses. As far as that Replica commander we just saw was concerned, he executed a legitimate operation against a bioterrorist hideout, based on a tip from a reliable source.”

Cassandra had a dark look on her face as she asked a question of her own.

“What about our mom? Why is she not on the list with us?”

Chris pondered on that query for a moment, drumming his fingers on the counter as he did so. Finally, he gave a quick shrug as he responded.

“I am not one hundred percent sure, but if I had to guess, I’d say that they want her alive - perhaps her value to them is too great to simply discard? I can tell you for sure that you four will be shot on sight from now on - nobody will attempt to bring you in alive.”

The brunette’s daughter finally stopped the massage. Her burning eyes narrowed to vicious slits as her hands clenched into fists that were itching to pulp organs and pulverize bones. Her voice was a low growl as she spoke a threat that might have sounded childish or overly dramatic, but Ethan knew that she meant it all with every fiber of her being.

“I will tear out the heart of every worthless maggot that would dare to come after mom. This I swear... I’ll bathe in their fucking blood.” 

Even Chris was seemingly taken aback at the venom in her words. The captain stood up and gently placed a palm on her shoulder - just for a few moments, as he spoke in a quiet yet reassuring voice.

“Quite extreme there, Cassandra. But I can share the sentiment. We will stop them.”

The brunette daughter still had fury in her eyes, yet she gave Chris a curt nod, showing her appreciation for his gesture. Bela was the next to ask a question, genuine surprise in her voice.

“How is that even possible that they can do all of that? Manipulate the information to the point where we are the bad guys and they remain in the shadows?”

Chris gave out a deep, tired sigh at that. One could see the depthless exhaustion in his faded blue eyes. The unending strife that was his life took its toll on the man. He answered with resigned grief plain in his tone.

“The world of ours is rotten, Bela. Two decades of bioterrorism saw to that. One crisis after the other collapsed the public trust in national governments. Millions of victims and God only knows how many displaced refugees made borders little more than scribblings on a map.” Chris took a moment to order another drink, a thousand yard stare in gaze all the while. With a cough, he continued.

“International institutions such as megacorporations have all the economical power nowadays. Moreover, as individual governments failed to confront the ever rising threat of bioterrorism, more and more power was transferred to a global political organization - the United Nations. All it achieved is that corruption and organized crime levels are higher than ever. Incompetence and greed are running rampant.”

Somehow even Cassandra was able to feel the extent of pain the captain felt as he mumbled out the depressing tirade. In an uncharacteristic act of compassion, the brunette gently patted his back with her own palm, this time. Her voice sounded unsure for once, no trace of its typical cockiness found.

“Come on. It can’t be all that bad…”

Chris responded with a small smile at the comforting gesture from the most unexpected of people, but soon scoffed as the dark thoughts returned.

“It’s worse. Warlords and mercenary gangs control vast territories in most underdeveloped countries. Criminal syndicates took over entire sectors in the so-called First World countries. Honestly, I am not even surprised that The Connections got so powerful. The conditions for scum like them to thrive couldn’t be better. The clients, eager for the filth they traffic are rich and plentiful; the local governments where they operate are malleable and pliant.”

Ethan was aware of much that was said by Chris, but having led a sheltered life for the last years, and being middle class in the U.S. before that, he was mostly shielded from it. Bela and Cassandra were almost completely isolated from the larger world, living in their Castle and then solitary manor in Cuba, with personal caterers to serve their every need…

“Sounds like a fun world…” Cassandra tried to say something positive, but Chris was not amused.

“Sure, if you’re a warlord or a C.E.O.. The divide between the rich and the poor was never wider. Most folks struggle to make ends meet nowadays, having to pay outrageous taxes or protection fees. Anyway, enough of that. We can’t save the world from itself, but we can still bring down The Connections, so let’s focus on that.”

Everyone was intrigued at the spoken notion, as nobody present wanted to leave that loathsome organization standing. Chris gave everyone present a small smirk, before speaking.

“Thankfully, there is still some justice left and a lot of good people in this world. The Connections were hoping to have their dirty laundry buried in that facility. But the items recovered by the Duke’s woman over there,” Chris pointed towards the slumping and unconscious form of Millie. “combined with data on the flash-drive you got from their HQ, as well as info the mercenary prisoner provided and what we ourselves got over the years…” Chris made a dramatic pause, as if savoring the moment.

“Well, that’s enough to bury these fuckers if it ever gets into the right hands. The hands we will hopefully deliver these to, soon.”

“The Duke’s contact in France?” Ethan inquired, receiving a quick nod and a brief response.

“An old acquaintance of mine. Someone I know well and trust to do the right thing.” Chris finished his drink, as he pondered on the next issue. With a sigh, he passed Ethan a photo. Cassandra’s tattooed forehead creased in rage at the sight of it, as her fingers started erratically twitching - eager to inflict nothing but death and misery to the object of her ire.

The photograph had ten small kids of various races and genders on it. None of them looked to be older than five. A young woman of an Asian descent stood behind them, on the left. His wife stood on the right. The date on the photo was a mere week ago. 

Ethan felt a dread feeling pooling inside his stomach. He could already guess what this was about. Still, the husband pointed a questioning glance Chris’ way. The captain gave another self-hating sigh before answering an unvoiced question.

“Did Mia ever tell you anything about her past with The Connections? Anything to imply that she was more than a mere caretaker?”

“No… we barely spoke about it. She asked me to trust her that it was all behind her…” Ethan struggled to remember anything else, but any time he broached the subject, Mia was tight lipped about it as she did her best to change the direction of their conversation. If he ever tried to press it, she would get annoyed and either childishly ignore him or start a vicious argument that inevitably led to a lengthy discussion about his own shortcomings as a father or a husband.

Cassandra looked at Ethan with frustration and disbelief in her narrowed eyes. Her mouth opened wide, likely to start a vicious argument of her own - about how blind/stupid he was, no doubt - only for it to die in her throat as Bela’s own hand found its way to the brunette’s shoulder. Exchanging a brief glance with her elder, Cassandra limited herself to an indignant “Hmph.”

Creasing her own forehead in troubled thought now, Bela moved to stand behind Ethan, her hot breath sending shivers down his neck. The blonde pointed towards the photograph with a single digit. “Who are these kids...?”

Chris was quick to provide an answer, looking at Ethan as he spoke, however.

“Mia’s latest test subjects, apparently. Remember Eveline from Louisiana?” Ethan had to suppress a gulp at that; just nodding meekly, instead. The large captain continued. 

“So, every single kid here is an abducted orphan, which is a horrifying fact on its own. What’s truly scary, however, is that every single one of them is a potentially new Eveline. A new and improved version, even. Mia clearly had quite an interesting backstory she withheld from all of us.” Chris finished his monologue with particular bitterness. “Shows me what I fucking know when I vouched for her, five years ago.”

Ethan was aghast at the notion that his wife - his caring and loving Mia - was responsible for experimenting on abducted orphans, making yet more monsters out of them. The husband felt a spike of regret shooting through him, for not pulling the trigger on his own wife yesterday. How could one excuse such villainy?

Before he could stew in his own misery, a pair of warm hands wrapped themselves around his chest. In spite of himself, the man smiled. Bela was always quick to offer a comforting touch or word whenever he felt down lately. She truly was an empathetic individual. Almost like his own personal guardian angel...

“Don’t be so hasty in blaming yourselves. None of us is a perfect judge of character. And...I am no mother, yet I can imagine that I would do anything for my child’s safety… I am not saying it justifies everything Mia did...but… it makes her actions not that incomprehensible, does it not?”

Bela’s dainty hands and soothing tone diffused the anger Ethan felt in a heartbeat. He couldn’t help himself as his own digits once again intertwined with hers. Mia’s actions, whether justifiable or not, took a backseat once again. The man’s thoughts turned towards the foreboding future next.

“So… Chris. What do we do exactly? Pass these items along to the contact and what? Remain on the run for the rest of our lives as international fugitives? I don’t feel like going under Class A terrorism charges. That’s like what - a life sentence?”

“A death sentence, actually. They amended the law last year.”

“Oh, that’s even better…”

Cassandra just giggled at that - apparently in a good mood once again - before noting in a sarcastic tone: “Well, technically we’ve lived under a death sentence for sixty-five years - we had our fair share of torches and pitchforks, you know. Join the club, Ethan.”

Chris couldn’t suppress a smirk of his own at the brunette’s upbeat attitude. He’d almost hated to break her little bubble.

“Afraid that being a local boogeyman is quite different from a target for international manhunt, Cassandra.” The reckless daughter only stuck her tongue at him, undaunted. Chris himself thought for a few moments on their predicament, before offering a solution.

“That said… If you keep your heads down for a while and if we can bring down The Connections in the meantime, as well as nail their accomplices up in the U.N., there is a good chance for us to overturn your charges as unlawful, given enough time.”

“That’s a lot of ‘ifs’...” Bela didn’t miss the anxiety in Ethan’s voice. Her firm hands gently brought him closer to her own body, with his head almost laying in between her breasts. Despite the unenvious predicament the man suddenly found himself in, for the moment he felt nothing but heavenly comfort. The blonde Dimitrescu’s voice was as soft as silk as she delivered a simple yet heartfelt reassurance.

“We’ll get through it, all of us - together.”

A solid slap to his own chest, courtesy of Cassandra gave strength to comfort. 

“That’s right. Stop making such a pity-party over every little thing! Wanna go spar with me? That will man you up nice and proper!”

Even Chris gave a hearty chuckle at that display of the most unexpected of comraderies. His next words evoked both dread and resolve within Ethan and Bela both.

“Make no mistake, once we reach the shores, The Connections will do everything in their power to locate and destroy us, with the assistance of their puppets. This will likely be the most dangerous part of your little adventure... There is a good chance none of us will make it, truth to be told. But if we keep our cool up and our heads down, we might yet prevail in the end.”

“I’ve yet to truly pay these bastards for what they did to mom.” Cassandra’s fist was clenched hard as she hissed the words out.

“You mean we have yet to, sister dearest?” Bela joined Cassandra in her sentiment. Again, the man could only be astounded at the amount of spite the normally pleasant and calm woman exuded in that short sentence. The malice in her tone was palpable. He suddenly remembered that her dainty arms, still around him, could likely snap a man’s neck without too much effort, if she wanted them to. That passing thought hardly brought Ethan any discomfort, however, as he knew that one really had to deserve it to receive such a treatment from Bela.

“It’s more than just you who were wronged by these people. Their list of crimes and the trail of victims left in their wake would leave even your precious Mother Miranda blushing.”

After saying that, Chris slowly turned away from the counter and started walking towards the exit. “I think we’re done here for now. I’m gonna go catch some Z’s if you don’t mind.”

Cassandra obviously did mind, since she bolted to the large man’s side, her hand clutching his biceps. “Now wait just a second, big guy. What about our little fight? Are you chickening out on me?” 

Chris, not missing a beat, stopped dead in his tracks, before swiftly rotating to face the brunette woman and giving her a cocky grin that wouldn't have been out of place on a man twenty years his junior. A certain savage glinting sparked in his deep blue eyes, returning some life to the otherwise dulled orbs.

“Not a chance, little fly. I think a good and honest spar with a fresh partner is exactly what I need. Today, twelve PM.”

Cassandra gave him a stunningly wide smile of her own at that response, showing off her pearly white teeth. 

“Oooh! Excellent! I am so looking forward to kicking your sweet ass!”

Chris, gently but firmly detached her vice-like grip on his biceps with a free hand, grinning all the while. “Likewise. Good night, princess.”

The middle daughter playfully snapped her teeth at him. The gesture was undeniably cute, especially with her jovial facial expression and mirth plain in her wide eyes. Nevertheless, Ethan couldn’t help but shudder at the sight and sound of that little motion. He could only imagine how many people… men … met their ends at the sharp edges of these fangs. 

Chris simply chuckled, before giving a nod of farewell to his squad and finally vacating the area. The Hound’s Wolf group stared at this whole display with barely-disguised shock.

Moments later, Cassandra was still standing in the middle of the bar, giggling uncontrollably - much like a lovestruck teenager and not a sixty-something murderous cannibal.

Ethan himself finally stood up from his place at the counter, Bela detaching one of her arms from him to accommodate the motion. Another was still wrapped tight around him however, even as the woman herself gazed at her younger sister with amusement and affection.

Almost dancing on the balls of her feet, the giddy brunette gave them a curt wave before leaving herself, mumbling happily all the while.

“I think I'll take over Dani now. Otherwise the ditz won’t leave mom’s side all night. Ciao.”

This whole scene was completely bewildering to Ethan, as well as everyone else present, excluding Bela - who just observed it all with a serene smile gracing her fair features. Humming to herself, the elder daughter fluttered towards the doorway herself. Due to the fact that her arm was now wrapped around Ethan’s, the man had no choice but to follow.

“Come with me, Ethan, I wanted to show you something…”

The father was quite distraught by the latest horrifying revelations, not to mention still quite sore from the numerous wounds that were still not fully healed, so he simply trudged along.

“Aren’t we being a little mysterious Bells? It’s dead of night.”

The woman gave a playful giggle at that and proceeded forward, without stopping.

“Exactly.”

A barrage of worrying implications rushed through Ethan’s mind as he helplessly followed the object of his affection along. While the thought of doing that with Bela aroused no shortage of positive emotions in the man, he simply felt not ready to commit to such a serious relationship, not with the ghost of Mia still lurking behind his shoulder. 

Before he could voice a no-doubt feeble protest, Ethan mentally noted that they were not going towards either of their cabins. Instead, they were going up - Bela clearly knowing her way as she directed them towards a staircase with firm and steady steps.

As they finally left the bowels of the ship, the father couldn’t help but let out a small but audible gasp at the serene setting that greeted them. They were at the very top of the yacht -  on a small observation deck - just the two of them and the infinite sky, stretching above. Deep in the international waters, far away from the lights of civilization the nightly scenery was truly majestic.

Being an urban dweller for most of his life, Ethan never really knew how beautiful a cloudless night sky could truly be. With the last week being a hectic and chaotic struggle for survival, he had little time to simply stop and admire the natural beauty of the world. Bela clearly aimed to rectify this situation.

The man was momentarily struck motionless by the sheer amount of sparkling stars that were gazing back at him. For a minute or two the couple simply stood there, arms entwined, as they beheld the incalculable motes of light. 

“I loved stargazing for as long as I could remember. From the window in my room during the winter and the ramparts of our castle during the summer. Care to join me in it tonight?”

Ethan regained a semblance of responsiveness at hearing Bela’s dulcet voice. Glancing down from the sky, he noted a pair of blankets further ahead, as well as what looked like a small picnic basket.

Did Bela ask that girl from before to prepare this for us in advance? 

The man didn’t even try to hide the mirth and affection in his tone as he answered.

“I’d love to…”

The blonde Dimitrescu let out a small but undeniably cute giggle at his response, before humming in satisfaction and walking towards their little spot for the night. Kicking off her white sneakers - revealing no less white, warm-looking socks - the woman momentarily broke their arms apart to sit cross legged on the blanket.

Ethan took a moment to remove his own shoes before placing himself on the second blanket, his arm quick to wrap around her shoulder this time, pulling them both in a warm embrace - eliciting a soft sigh of delight from the woman.

For a few more minutes they just sat like that, in perfect comfort and contentment as they held each other with nothing but affection and saw nothing but the breathtaking majesty of the cosmos. In this moment, in the face of such a grand sight, their own issues appeared infinitesimal.

With some worry, Ethan noted that Bela was growing quite cold to his touch. Moments later, the woman started shivering slightly, confirming his suspicions. The man himself felt only the slightest chill, but he suddenly recalled that the Dimitrescu girls were much more vulnerable to coldness than an average person.

“Excuse me for a second...”

Bela gently broke out of his arms to rummage in the basket at her side, producing another warm-looking blanket that she promptly put over herself. The next item her nimble fingers reached for was a small thermos, from which she promptly took several sips. Ethan’s nostrils twitched at that unmistakable irony smell, suddenly in the air. The man only smiled down at the beautiful blonde vampire, so thoughtful in her preparations for this surprise event. To his own shock, Ethan found himself utterly unbothered by the act of blood-drinking, not anymore.

Finally, the lady of the evening brought out a small wine bottle as well as a pair of glasses. At her questioning gaze his way, the man only gave a small nod and a loving smile. To his minor chagrin, Bela poured the wine herself - that should be something I should’ve done - and the couple enjoyed their drinks.

Bela’s arm found itself snaking around his back as Ethan’s own once again wrapped around her shoulder, snuggling them close to each other.

Experiencing indescribable comfort, the man’s gaze turned skyward once again. Following his eyes, Bela momentarily produced her right arm from the warmth of the blanket to point at the brightest star that she saw as the one that caught Ethan’s fancy.

“Arcturus. Only thirty-six light years away from us…”

“You sure know your astronomy, Professor Dimitrescu.”

The woman giggled at his playful tone, before replying in kind.

“I know a lot of things, Mister Winters. Would you like to know more about astronomy, or perhaps... anatomy is of more interest to you?”

Bela’s cheeks tinted pink at her own spoken innuendo. Ethan just chuckled joyfully.

“Mhm, a lesson for another night?”

“Count on it.”

Saying that, Bela let out a sigh of contentment, as she snuggled her blanket-covered body even closer to his. Ethan was only too happy to accommodate. He couldn’t miss the way she hungrily licked her lips, either. That anatomy lesson was sure to be an enlightening one...

The peace and quiet that ensued didn’t last too long, as Ethan felt the now-familiar but barely noticeable presence emerging in the back of his head.

Rose asks where the hell are you? Oh...I see.

Ethan had to suppress a wince as he didn't warn Rosie in advance that he would be late today. 

Ugh… I am sorry… is Tom still with her?

Sure is! Don’t worry, enjoy your time! I’ll tell Rosie that you’re with ‘Auntie’ Bela. See ya later daddy!

Eveline’s presence receded. The man could only say a prayer for Thomas. Truly, that man was a lifesaver. If they ever get out of that whole ‘international terrorists’ mishap, Ethan would invite him to a grill party one day.

“Something wrong, Ethan?”

Apparently, his inner dialogue didn’t go unnoticed, as Bela’s amber orbs were now staring into his brown-gray ones in curiosity. Giving one more lie, the father resolved to tell them all the truth - soon. Bela, Cassandra, Daniela and Chris all deserved to know it.

“Nah, everything’s fine, Bells. Just being astonished at the… uhm… astronomical turn of events in my life lately.”

Bela gave another beautiful giggle - truly, Ethan couldn’t get enough of her melodic laughter - before lightly pecking him on the cheek. After a moment, her joyful mood shifted to somber, as she mumbled out the things that gnawed on her own mind.

“We’ve been through a lot together, already. And yet more dangers await… But moments like this make it all worth it in the end, don’t they?”

Ethan returned the favor by gently kissing her on her tattooed forehead, before replying.

“I suppose...I’d still rather have more moments like this one and less life-or-death struggles, personally.”

“Me too…”

This time the silence remained unbroken as the moldy couple continued to share their affectionate embrace, the soft starlight illuminating them in the darkness of night. The salty ocean air and the gentle breeze only added to the serene setting. The troubled past and foreboding future was temporarily forgotten in the face of the awe-inspiring present. The majesty of this moment ensured that neither Ethan nor Bela would ever forget it.

As tranquility claimed his battle-weary body, Ethan found himself drifting off to a peaceful, restorative slumber. For the first time in the last week, he did not dream of Mia. Someone else occupied his dreamscape completely that night. And she would tolerate no competition.

Notes:

So I wanted to do that world-building segment for a while now - I do imagine RE universe to be a more crapsack version of our own, if you can believe it with all the latest stuff that's been happening. That said, it might not be as shitty as Chris himself here portrays, since I do want to show his character as a burned out veteran, resolved to do his best, but simply no longer seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. He sees the worst humanity has to offer on a daily basis, so that colors his perception of the world, as well. In a way, he is also addicted to danger (how could he not be, really?) and is somewhat of a thrill-seeker by now - that's why he is intrigued by Cassandra's intense personality. Hope that whole part was entertaining :D

As always, I greatly appreciate each and every comment you guys leave on my little story! If you have any questions, theories or suggestions, always feel free to express them, and I'll do my best to answer and I can proudly tell that I've implemented more than one suggestion in this story already :D

Chapter 26: Passionate Violence

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Ethan’s return to the waking world was done without much fanfare, yet the man never felt better.

For once in a long time, even before this whole mess started, the nightmares did not plague Ethan’s mind during his time of rest. No imaginary lycans or molded chased him through decrepit buildings. 

Jack, spade raised in a motion that would see his leg chopped cleanly off, did not stand over him. Cassandra, with a knife poised to carve his feeble man-flesh, did not grin over his downed form. Instead, the lone father dreamed of a certain blonde woman, smiling at him gently as she played with Rose.

Today, Ethan felt rejuvenated and reinvigorated as he woke up - ready to face the whole world, if need be. Gentle sunlight, beating against his still closed eyelids, made the man grin as the pleasant warmth generously poured over his face. 

The man smacked his lips, as if savoring the delightful treat, once the memories of the beautiful night came back to him - making his spirit sour in joy. The last thing he could recall was Bela’s large blanket extending to cover them both as his own shiver betrayed the fact that the chilly night wind had finally gotten the better of him.

Regardless of what awaited them next, the man’s mood was uplifted and he was eager to confront the many challenges ahead. And how could he not, with such a remarkable woman at his side?

Ethan’s eyes finally fluttered open, revealing the scenery as somewhat disappointing - his own little room in their cabin; no Bela in sight. He was already aching for her gentle touch; the way their bodies snuggled together in the chill of the night. With some worry, the man realized that he was craving her presence. Her intelligent amber eyes, gazing at him with affection. Her beautiful, melodic laughter. That indescribable comfort and safety he always felt when near her. With a lonely sigh, the man slowly crawled out of his bed, even as he figured out how he got in it in the first place.

Bela must have carried me...again. Another one I owe you, Bells. But don’t you worry, I am keeping count.

Checking the clock, Ethan let out a small curse.

11:50 AM 

To his own surprise, the man found himself unwilling to miss the spar between Chris and Cassandra. The brunette Dimitrescu was a monster, no mistake about it. Her combination of inhuman strength, speed and endurance - wielded with ruthless skill made her a fearsome and formidable adversary already. Her swarm shapeshifting allowed her to turn around any possible disadvantage in her favor in a heartbeat.

As much as Ethan hated to admit it, he doubted that he saw the extent of her true power in their own spar. It was very likely that Cassandra held back in her insane desire to prolong their little fight. The man wasn’t sure that any unarmed human could hope to best her if she went all-out.

That said… if there is any human who could beat our dear Cassie - that would be Chris.

Finishing his preparation for the day, Ethan emerged from his tiny bedroom in a spotless short-sleeved navy blue shirt, as well as a pair of brown shorts. Sun was looking to be oppressively hot today.

Immediately upon taking a step inside their small but pleasant living room, he was greeted by the smile-inducing sight of Rosie, who was sitting on a sofa, playing some kind of verbal game with Eveline.

“I spy with my little eye something… green, soft.”

Rose giggled before pointing towards an object Ethan hadn't seen before in their little cabin - a large, plushie dragon. Undeniably cute plushie dragon, with ornate emerald scales and beautiful amber, reptilian eyes.

“That’s easy, Evie! Dani’s dragon!”

At the motion of turning her tiny head, the tiny Winters noted the figure of her father standing in the doorway. That very instant, Eveline’s own eyes - that should've had no problem seeing him from her position - yet did not - focused on his frame. Clearly, despite manifesting a visible avatar for the two of them, the phantasmic girl was still completely reliant on her hosts’ sensory input for her own awareness.

“Good morning daddy!” They spoke the greeting in perfect synchronicity, slightly unnerving the man.

“Good morning, girls… is that toy Daniela’s?”

The father was still understandably apprehensive about the idea of Daniela approaching his baby girl without supervision. As nice as the redhead was, her occasional episodes of uncontrollable violence was not something he would want to happen in Rosie’s proximity, ever. Ethan assumed that he got that point across, but now he felt like he and Daniela needed another talk. Rosie’s meek voice took him out of his musings, however.

“No, daddy… uncle Tom passed it along, saying that it was a gift from Dani. I love it so much! But…when can I play with her? She is so pretty and funny…and so nice!”

That played on Ethan’s heartstrings more than he’d care to admit. The feeling of shame suddenly ignited in his stomach. The redhead understood and respected his wishes, yet still went out of her way to comfort his baby girl. And he thought the worst of her, again. The gnawing guilt led to a new train of thought.

I really have to make it up to Dani… perhaps, she could play around with Rosie if either myself or Bela was in the room to observe? I think that would be acceptable...

“I think we can arrange that, dear. I am sure that Dani would love to play with you, but for now, let’s make sure Auntie Bela or little old me is in the same room as you two, alright?” The girl just nodded, while Eveline observed him with a cocky grin.

The man nodded himself, before remembering the ordeal that was about to happen. Somehow he was feeling like he was about to miss his favorite team playing baseball, and not a bloody fisticuffs match. Taking a look at the girls - back at their verbal game, the man smiled, before speaking.

“You girls gonna be alright for a while? There is something I’d really like to see, but I can call uncle Tom, if you want.” 

Eveline was the one who answered that.

“Nah, we are fine. Tom could use a break as well - he has a little bet going with Millie on that fight, by the way. I don’t have any money myself - obviously - but I am totally hoping Cassi would kick that angry man’s ass to the moon and beyond.”

“Language, Eveline!”

“Sorry, daddy!”

Rosie giggled as Ethan scolded Eveline as if she was his own daughter. The father sheepishly ran a hand through his dark blonde hair as he came to the same conclusion. Giving his precious Rose a loving peck and ruffling her hair, eliciting another lovely giggle, the man took his leave.

Walking through the suspiciously empty halls of the yacht, Ethan suddenly realized that he had no idea where the fight was supposed to take place. Momentarily pausing in confusion, the man was about to head to that little exercise room by the armory where he had his own bout with the monstrous woman.

On taking his first step in that direction, Ethan once again got interrupted as a sudden force impacted from behind, making him stagger a few steps forward. A familiar joyful laughter resonated across the halls as a pair of lithe but strong legs crossed over his waistline while slender arms gently wrapped around his neck.

“Hey, Ethan! Fancy meeting you here! Miss me?”

Where did she even come from? I swear she is like a cat - unseen and unheard…

Daniela’s cheerful voice made Ethan unable to be truly cross with her invading and shocking presence. He went for a more subdued approach, instead.

“Hey, Daniela… why don’t you get off me, please?”

“No way! I am still soooooo sleepy and tired and I’ve lost my shoes and the floor is so cold! Do you want me to get sick? Don’t you love me!?”

Indeed, looking down he could see the dramatic redhead’s bare feet - her dainty curled toes having a slight bluish tint to them, implying that she was quite cold. And, truth be told - she was pretty light, so it's not like it was a huge bother for him to carry her around for a while. With a resigned sigh, the man acceded to her demands.

“Of course I don’t want you to get sick, Daniela. Fine… where does your highness want to go today?”

“YAY! You’re the best, Ethan!” Daniela cleared her throat, before continuing in an overly dramatic, deep voice - making the man she was riding let out a small chuckle of his own. “Onward towards the grand arena, my noble steed! The valiant knight clashes with the fearsome dragon and my heart aches for I am not there to witness it! Such tragedy!” The redhead finished her monologue with a meek and barely audible excuse, going out of character for a second. “I...ehm...overslept a little.”

Who exactly is the valiant knight and the fearsome dragon, in her eyes, I wonder? Hope she knows where to go, at least…

“Ugh...Where exactly is the ‘grand arena’?”

“Main sundeck, I think.... Ahem . Now, Let us not tarry, my devout chariot! The violent spectacle waits for no one! Not even for I, Princess Daniela the Beautiful!”

The man grinned wide as he trudged towards the large sundeck at the front of the ship. It was a good place to hold a fight, and now he was sure that there would be more than a few spectators. Daniela herself giggled in contentment as she held onto him tightly. After a few quiet moments she asked him a surprising question, in her normal, kind voice.

“How’s Richard the Wyrm doing?”

Ethan only thought about that for a second, before providing a curious and subdued response. Previous guilt he felt reared its ugly head once again.

“Richard the Wyrm? You mean that green dragon plushie you gave Rosie? She said that she loved it… Thank you a lot for that, by the way, Dani… I am really sorry for keeping her away from you...it’s just…”

The blonde man wasn’t sure what to even say at this point. The girl continued his unvoiced thought herself, however, in a quiet and sorrowful voice.

“No no… I understand - really, I do…your precious daughter has no business being close to a mons…”

Ethan felt anger igniting within his soul at the very mention of that word. Anger at himself, and at her, for daring to say that. His fists clenched at their own volition even as he interrupted her with his own, suddenly fierce, voice.

“No, Dani! Don’t you even say that word. I thought we’ve been through this already?” The man, calming down, continued in a somber tone. ”You have some...issues… true, but we will work through them - together. It’s all just so unfair to you… if you want, we can arrange something with Rosie, as well. As long as I am or Bela is with you two, I don’t mind you playing with my daughter. I am really sorry...for everything.”

“You… mean it?” She was close to tears, if her tone was any indication. Ethan couldn’t help his hand from finding its way towards her dainty palm, clutching it tightly.

“Of course, I do, Dani…” Ethan paused for a second, gathering his resolve before mumbling the next words out, knowing that there would be no way to take them back.

“There is also a person I would like for you to meet. All of you - Bela, Cassandra and Chris included. I think you know which one I mean. You all deserve to know the truth. But let’s wait just a bit longer with that, since we are almost at our goal now.”

Daniela said nothing but cuddled her own body tightly to his; the man could feel the affection radiating from her whole form. Bela’s little sister was truly a precious person to him in her own right, at this point. Ethan felt his heart growing warm merely from being able to provide comfort to the poor girl that has been through so much… His second hand clutched her left palm as well, now.

In companionable silence, the awkward-looking duo finally reached their destination - the large sundeck. As they emerged from the bowels of the ship, Daniela was quick to detach herself from the man, her cold feet eager for the warmth the heated deck provided during the summer noon. 

Just like Ethan thought - there were quite a few spectators gathered. Around two dozen crewmembers, several armsmen, in addition to other, more colorful personalities. Hound’s Wolf Squad - all of them. Millie and Tom, standing by themselves, sipping on some cocktails and having a sibling-like banter. 

At a small elevation near the edge of the deck stood Alcina and Bela. Lady Dimitrescu herself appeared remarkably healthier than the last time Ethan saw her. The matriarch was now dressed in a regal white dress, not that dissimilar to the one she wore back in the castle. The cut was noticeably absent, as were the three roses; the sleeves were shorter, to accommodate for the warm weather. The exposed skin of her hands looked like it was improving rapidly, with the previously angry red rashes adopting a more calm pinkish hue. Her posture was straight and regal, showing that she no longer struggled to merely stand upright. A wide-brimmed hat decorated her black locks - naturally a bit smaller than the one she used to wear before.

With some apprehension, Ethan noted that she also stood a couple of inches taller - the man let out a small sigh of relief as he realized that she was merely wearing heels today. Alcina’s gaze was firmly locked upon the center of the impromptu arena, disdain plain in it. Clearly the noble lady was above bread and circuses, yet voiced no protest over it, nevertheless.

Ethan found himself content in the knowledge that the vampiric countess was recovering from her treatment at the hands of The Connections. Glancing at her face, he noted that she clearly took pains to make her appearance be presentable, with make up and that blood-red lipstick of hers. The man couldn’t deny the fact that the matriarch was a beautiful lady in her own right, with her fair but strong features; even though they were still noticeably gaunt from her harrowing experience.

Glancing towards Alcina’s right, the man couldn’t help but grin like an idiot. The blonde woman who had stolen his heart was dressed in that radiant golden sundress of hers, now free of the blood smears Ethan could spy on it at their first meeting. Her beauty in that moment was truly overwhelming for the man, who could not help but gape at her sun-soaked and glinting frame. Bela’s keen eyes - locked onto him the moment he stepped out of the ship’s interior - gave him a playful wink. Amusement and joy still lingered in her gaze, after she beheld her youngest sister dismounting from him.

Love-struck, Ethan barely registered a light peck of affection to his cheek from Daniela, who promptly scurried off towards her family. The redhead herself was dressed in a supremely cute white t-shirt with a gray cat’s face on it, as well as a pair of jean shorts, showing her own long legs. The girl waved at him to join them, but at a scalding glare from Alcina, directed his way now, the man decided to play it safe and join Tom and Millie, for now. Bela, grinning in mirth, blew him a kiss.

Lightly blushing, the elder Winters offered a hand in greeting, which Tom promptly shook, smiling mischievously. 

“Miss Bela really took a fancy to you, eh Ethan?”

“Lucky guy.”

Millie’s remark was delivered in a sarcastic tone, making Ethan glance at her curiously. On this hot day, the black-haired woman was dressed in a simple business grey shirt. That funny-looking pen of hers was still clipped to a breast pocket. Somehow, Ethan couldn’t help but be unnerved by this innocuous little object of hers. Rationally, it made no sense, yet the hardened survivor’s instincts in him murmured that the little writing instrument was as deadly as a gun in the hands of its owner.

Maybe it’s just Bela’s mistrust of her rubbing off on me or something… 

Shaking the dark thoughts off, he merely grinned at the shorter woman.

“Meeting Bela was a stroke of luck on a road full of misfortune, that’s for sure.”

Millie just gaped at him with a bewildered expression full of disbelief while Tom gave him a friendly chuckle and a thumbs up. The man clearly knew how to focus on the brighter aspects of life.

Ethan admired such an attitude. Looking at the assembled faces all around - joyful during this unexpected yet intriguing event, made him believe that everything could get better. Even if this world of theirs was bleak and full of misery, as long as they could find happiness in each other, there was hope for a better tomorrow. Sometimes, all it took to dismiss the darkness was a single flashlight...

Lastly, Ethan focused his gaze upon the stars of the show: Chris and Cassandra - standing in the middle of the gathering, opposing each other. Both combatants were dressed in simple exercising outfits, showing plenty of skin. Chris was doing some warm-ups while Cassandra simply observed him, hands on her hips and a wicked grin on her black lips. The hunger was unmistakable in her wide amber orbs. 

Cassandra being eager for violence was nothing new or surprising, yet Chris’ own eyes glinting with certain excitement and even savagery was an usual sight for Ethan, who knew the large captain as a calm and composed individual. 

A valiant knight versus a fearsome dragon, indeed...which is which, though?

Their little makeshift arena simply consisted of four small flagpoles, marking the edges of a square. Ethan doubted that they served any real purpose, however, but it looked nice enough.

Ethan couldn’t miss the absence of their gracious host himself, however. Perhaps the large merchant was simply uninterested in fisticuffs or too busy to attend. Tom was in charge in his place, apparently, as the moment his expensive-looking watch ticked 12.00 PM, he stepped forward.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen! The moment we’ve all been waiting for! In one corner we have the legend of the War on Bioterror! Bane of Umbrella, B.S.A.A. founding member and the Puncher of Boulders - Chris Redfield!” Everyone among the Hound’s Wolf squad bursted with mirthful laughter at that, while Chris himself groaned in frustration and embarrassment. Numerous other crew members who knew about Chris’ many deeds but had no idea about that last part simply cheered for the brave man.

“Oooh, I sense there is quite a story behind that last title of yours, oh brave captain!” Cassandra was quick to pounce upon the discomfort-evoking tidbit - ever the predator. Before Chris could reply with his own snarky wit, Tom pointed a hand towards Cassandra as he introduced her as the second fighter.

“And in the other corner we have the infamous Cassandra Dimitrescu! The self-proclaimed hunter of beast and men! The very thing that goes bump in the night! Supposedly, never bested in combat in over sixty years of her life!” Gasps of astonishment at that part made Tom grin as he continued. 

“I know what you’re thinking - ‘I wish ‘ I’ could look that good at that age!’ But don’t let her gorgeous appearance deceive you! This fearsome woman is a deadly weapon, begging to be unleashed upon the unsuspecting mortals! The only question - is Chris Redfield ready to face this most dangerous of foes?”

The small crowd was more subdued this time - her dark reputation was well-known on the ship. Most let out a half-hearted cheer or simply mumbled among each other. The armory master with a broken arm in a splint let out a ‘boo’, which was caught by several others. They were easily muffled by the overwhelmingly loud cheer, courtesy of Daniela.

“WHOOOHOOOO! CASSANDRA!!!”

Alcina herself gazed at her daughter with pride and joy plain in her amber orbs. Bela simply gave a thumb-up and a smile.

Cassandra’s wicked, toothy grin sent shivers running through everyone's sane present, as she gave her family a thumb-up of her own. 

Ethan himself couldn’t help but look at Tom with newfound respect. The man’s loud voice and entertainer’s abilities turned out to be quite impressive - the Duke’s lieutenant clearly knew how to work the crowd. The father briefly wondered what other hidden talents that man possessed. Tom’s booming voice interrupted his current train of thought, however.

“Combatants - you are free to start!”

Cassandra didn’t waste a single breath as she leapt upon Chris - a devastating spinning roundhouse kick aimed right his way. The inhuman power in these killer legs of her, combined with her body’s weight and velocity could shatter bones and pulverize organs. With the lightning-fast execution of the attack compounding the threat, Cassandra clearly aimed to end the fight before it even began.

Chris’ response to the sudden assault showcased his own barely human combat prowess and reaction speed. With dexterity that bellied his large frame, the man avoided the powerful blow only to catch her extended leg with both hands. In a single, barely perceptible motion, the captain used Cassandra’s own momentum to throw her overhead, slamming her savagely into the deck’s floor behind him.

The brutal impact would’ve knocked most humans out of the fight, yet the decidedly inhuman brunette merely leapt back onto her feet; an open palmed strike of considerable power against Chris’ chest forcing the larger man to stumble back a few steps, winning her some breathing room.

Not missing a beat, the vicious Dimitrescu daughter was upon him - unleashing a flurry of blows that would’ve reduced an average man to a bloody and tangled mess of limbs on the ground in seconds.

The veteran B.S.A.A. captain was ready for them all, however. With a grin on his face and his suddenly alight eyes narrowed in focus, Chris met the barrage head-on. Dodging one strike just to block another; only to redirect the third and shooting with a jab of his own in the process - Chris demonstrated the combat prowess one could develop only from long years of both practice and experience.

In a twist that was more than a little surprising to her, Cassandra suddenly found herself in a stalemate as the flurry of blows that nearly brought Ethan to his knees was almost perfectly countered. Redirecting another jab that nearly connected to her midsection, the brunette had to suppress a deranged howl of laughter that begged to be let loose. Her own flowing combat style was matched perfectly by Chris’. She was somewhat stronger and a bit faster than the captain, yet he more than made up for it with his keen eyes and keener yet mind - reading her motions to a frightening degree, almost predicting her next attacks before she even thought of them.

Exhilarated like never before, the grinning maniac continued her vicious and relentless assault, enjoying every single moment of the beautiful dance they were having. For it was a dance, full of graceful motions that would make any choreographer green with envy at their flawless execution. No jab or strike was wasted. Everything either served to probe for weakness or flow into the next blow. And how happy she was that her dance partner shared her passion - if his suddenly bright eyes were any indication.

Caught up in his living ocean blue orbs for just an instant of time, the brunette overextended her arm for just a moment too long. Chris did not miss a beat in capitalizing on the mistake, slapping the appendage away and delivering another lightning-fast jab right against her temple.

The Dimitrescu warrior saw stars flashing in her eyes from the sheer power of that blow, impressing her even further. Yet now it was Chris’ time to truly get a feel for her power, since even without her senses active, her arms shot to grasp his still extended own one - shocking the man at her insanely fast reaction - in spite of just taking a blow to the head.

Twisting his arm - fully intending to break it - the woman purred in wicked delight as Chris rolled with the force, instead; his foot kicking at her knee to aid the man in breaking from her grip.

The pain from his repeated blows on her form finally forced her to take a step back, allowing the man to regain his footing and stance; just as she regained full control over her own senses. 

The combatants took a moment to observe each other, neither of them willing to make the next move - not yet. 

Cassandra could stare at this handsome man all day. His powerful muscles, soaked in sweat already - glinting in sunlight; his chiseled face with these enchanting, depthless eyes of his - so alive now; the determined, passionate grin he was giving her. 

The brunette daughter couldn’t help herself but make a mental resolution.

I will fuck him up. Then I will fuck his brains out.

As if reading her mind and deciding to not give her the chance, the captain made the next move. With a flurry of blows of his own, Chris was done with merely responding to her motions. She was strong and fast, true, but it was plain to his sharp eyes that she never truly fought anyone on even remotely fair ground. How could one truly perfect themself without walking on the edge?

For all her strength and skill, Cassandra’s only true experience was born from putting down malnourished Dimitrescu’s prisoners, occasional combative villagers, unprepared treasure hunters and delusional glory seekers - all hopelessly out of their depths. To make these fights even remotely interesting, she had to hold back.

Meanwhile, Chris himself had frequently sparred with many great and accomplished fighters in their own rights, from many different parts of the world. The amount of combat techniques the captain had memorized would simply baffle the mind of any amateurish fighter.

Moreover, Chris had decades of real-life combat experience - where a single mistake could cost him his life. Cassandra was hardly his most challenging foe so far. For all her speed and power, the brunette would barely hold a candle to Albert Wesker. True, the majority of fights against the sun-glass loving freak were horribly one-sided in Wesker’s favor, yet Chris emerged stronger from each and every single one of them.

From each humiliating defeat he learned his lessons. From each hard-earned victory he noted things he could’ve done better. And now, he wagered everything against this newest vampiric challenger of his. All his knowledge and experience, wielded by his body, honed to its very peak by countless trials and endless training sessions.

The barrage of strikes the captain unleashed took the brunette sibling by complete surprise.

*

Bela’s eyes widened in shock as she beheld the spectacle unfolding before her. Unlike her more brutish sister, the blonde was well-read and different unarmed combat styles was an interesting reading material in its own right. She immediately recognized moves from four different martial arts that she saw illustrations for - executed with master-like skill and almost inhuman swiftness. Several more moves Chris performed left nothing but question marks in her bright mind, as she never saw anything like them.

The elder sister could do nothing but gape in wonderment as this man combined so many different styles together into a single relentless chain of devastation - now unleashed against her sister. 

Perhaps you’ve bitten more than you could chew for once, dear sister? Is it time for you to get serious?

*

Somehow, Cassandra found herself unable to keep up with this man now. This human. A form of life that was beneath her, or so she was taught from birth. 

His movements were erratic now - seemingly - without a pattern her experienced eyes could discern, yet they all flowed seamlessly together. Fully on the defensive now, with barely any opportunity for a counterattack, the brunette struggled to hold back the large captain. 

No human she ever fought showed such relentless strength combined with utterly baffling finesse. Her normally impervious defenses were shattered by his onslaught of exotic moves. Numerous jabs bypassed her arms, only to land on her vulnerable body, making the woman hiss in pain and anger.

As she fell for a feint - stupid! - a quick jab split her lip, allowing her to taste her own black blood. Yuck. Mere moments later, as her clumsy attempt to swipe his leg failed spectacularly, Cassandra found herself on a collision course with the ground - again. She was not having that much fun anymore...

I suppose I can’t hold back any longer; let’s see how the brave captain handles my true form…

There was a certain finesse to swarm-combat that was unique to Dimitrescu siblings. Something the girls would get up to train together, on occasion. Controlling the whole swarm to execute her will perfectly was a bit tricky, since despite the overall hivemind-like connection, their individual positioning, directions and velocities were all unique. Among the three of them, Bela had the highest level of proficiency with the micromanagement part of their shapeshifting ability, yet Cassandra was not that far behind, either. 

Chris found that much for himself, as a millisecond before Cassandra impacted the solid flooring her whole form shifted into the plague of black insects - only to reverse direction and shoot up towards the sky. Looking up to follow the swarm’s movements, the captain was momentarily blinded by the sun’s uncaring glare. A mere instant later, the once again solid form of the middle Dimitrescu child fell down upon him; an elbow strike of considerable power against his solar plexus stealing his breath as well as radiating unspeakable agony throughout his whole frame.

Gracefully finding her footing, the most brutal Dimitrescu was back on the offensive - her next roundhouse kick missing its mark by less than a hair length. Several of the follow-up jabs finally connected with his own vulnerable flesh, eliciting grunts of pain that did nothing but invigorate the sadistic woman, making her grin as she let out a playful taunt.

“Oh, getting a little out of breath, are we? How sad - for you!”

The captain was not out of the fight, just yet, however, as he bull-rushed her - much like Ethan did before. With his considerable mass and prodigious velocity, that particular move stood a decent chance at taking even Cassandra out of the fight for good - if it connected.

With a nasty smirk, Cassandra opened her arms wide, as if inviting him for a hug. The instant later, as the captain reached the spot she occupied - all he could hear was buzzing, as her ravenous blowflies circled around him - only to coalesce together above and behind him, taking the shape of the vicious brunette - her fingers interlocked as her fists, held tightly together, were poised to deliver a devastating overhead smash - right at the back of his skull.

Chris, feeling the presence, leapt forward and away from the deadly threat, but he could not completely avoid that attack in time. The man felt something akin to a sledgehammer hitting him in the back. The force of the colossal blow was so great that only his finely-honed instincts allowed him to roll with the strike, instead of letting his body and face impact the rapidly-approaching ground; the latter scenario would, no doubt, be enough to knock him out.

Seeing his momentarily prone form, stilling after the violent roll he performed, the sadistic woman briefly considered shoving one of the little flags down his rear - in a display of both dominance and ownership. Mom wouldn’t approve. A playful taunt was an inferior alternative Cassandra decided to employ, instead.

“How does that feel?”

Her mocking voice made him grit his teeth as Chris did his best to regain his footing once again. It was a miracle that nothing inside of him broke from the sheer savagery of that last blow. The power in her lean arms was truly inhuman.

Not waiting for an answer, the brunette rushed the captain, her amber orbs once again glinting in mirth and malice. She was not happy about the fact that her human shape alone was insufficient to defeat the man, and her anger found its outlet.

The captain was already prepared to deflect the incoming telegraphed attack, only to realize at the last second that it was a feint. Her whole body was a feint. The moment her frame reached Chris - it dispersed into these accursed bugs of hers, which somehow regained the momentum of her previously human shape. Before he could even blink, she was already behind him - solid flesh and bone once again.

A quick stomp to the back of his knee forced him to the ground; the brunette easily avoided his retaliating backhand by performing an incredible feat of acrobatic agility - leaping up and using his lowered shoulders as platforms to get right back to his front. Nothing in this jaw-dropping maneuver was wasted as Cassandra spun 450 degrees in the air, before landing on her palms and delivering a solid, mule-like double kick to his midsection.

The force of that inhumanly powerful blow sent the captain’s body reeling through the air, until he collapsed in a heap a dozen feet from where he was. The gasps of horror and disbelief among the crowd met his attempt to stand up again, choking out dark red blood, all the while.

“Like that? Harder?”

She was smirking down on him, clearly reassured of her superiority - once again. Her cocky grin implied that she had already crowned herself the victor and was merely thinking of ways she could make his inevitable downfall more dramatic and theatrical. 

That same overconfidence brought so many of his enemies down already; the captain couldn’t help but smirk in return. Making a taunting gesture with his index and middle fingers, Chris was rewarded by a confused frown directed his way. It quickly shifted back into a maniacal grin, as the brunette advanced towards him, once more.

Just like before, the vampiric bug-woman shifted around and above him, preparing to put some more pain on the arrogant little man-thing that dared to taunt her. What greeted her was a haymaker of incredible power, right at her abdominal area. Screaming out in pain, the woman once again returned to her swarm shape to avoid impacting the ground.

Chris’ grin as he watched her reform some distance away could challenge her own in both intensity and savagery visible in it. 

With some distress, the Dimitrescu sibling noted that she was breathing hard and her muscles were growing stiff. What the middle child didn’t realize was how obvious her pattern of attacks has been to the captain. Now out of breath herself, Cassandra felt annoyance and hatred rising inside of her. Amber orbs were glinting with nothing but malice in them as they locked onto the deep blue ones. 

She expected him to put up a fight, but she never even entertained the idea that he might be able to best her. The whole concept was simply inconceivable to Cassandra’s mind. No human ever came close… Ethan might’ve been challenging to put down, yet there was still plenty of breathing room for her...now however… the possibility of defeat reared its ugly head, evoking the worst of her dark character.

Chris himself made the next move, as his fist clearly aimed to make acquaintance with her nose. Scoffing at the presumptuous man, Cassandra once again shifted her form - now aiming to strike at him from the side. Nothing but air greeted her own fist as she completed her transformation. Her surprise didn’t last long, however, as Chris - who, predicting her move, had dropped to the ground only to jump right back - using her own momentum, the man threw her body over himself, making her strike the harsh surface hard . The final move mirrored the initial one almost perfectly.

Somehow, the breath was not coming back to Cassandra’s lungs fast enough anymore. She was tired. Tears of indignation were threatening to spill forth from her mascara-smeared eyes. Black blood was running down her nose and lips. 

The middle child was being humiliated by this man. Everyone was watching. Her sisters were watching. Her mother was watching! The rage of her wounded pride was almost overwhelming.

I can’t possibly lose… not to a human… not like this...

Everything hurt. She was tough, but her own human body was far from invincible, and the amount of damage she took was proving to be crippling. Cassandra felt like she only had enough energy left for one more full-body transformation. But the captain had proven himself capable enough to discern her shapeshifting as well…

She could still win, of course. Her most lethal attack - the same one that brought the Dire Wolf commander down - was still her ace in the hole. No matter how skilled or experienced Chris was, he would not be able to defend himself against her shapeless, ravenous swarm. She would find her way inside him. Mutilate his innards until he begged for her to stop. The arrogant man would yield to her, making her the victor - once again. But then - everyone would call her a monster, once again. Chris himself would likely never forgive her. The Dimitrescu pride was on the line… but was the victory at any cost worth it? 

Still prone, the middle sibling took a moment to appreciate the faces surrounding her. 

Cassandra tear-stained eyes chanced upon Ethan first. She could vividly recall how that defiant little man put up quite a fight against her. But more than that, she could never forget how graceful he was in defeat. How he praised and complimented her. How he offered her a hand to shake, in a motion for peace and friendship. The darkness inside of her started to recede.

The brunette sibling turned her head to glance at her family next. Her beautiful sisters looked down at her with tense faces. Would they hate her if she lost?

No…

Bela’s words to her jumped to the forefront of her mind. How they would love her, regardless if she was strong or weak. That she always had a place in their hearts. 

And Cassandra could see that very notion plainly in their amber orbs right now. Bela, Daniela and even Alcina looked at her with nothing but fondness, hope and love. Even if, for once in her long life, she would lose to a human, they would still love her.

Perhaps… it's not too bad, to not be the strongest in every waking moment.

Somehow, at that sudden realization, Cassandra felt unburdened, even as she lay on the ground, with Chris’ form approaching her own, slowly. The man was running ragged himself, barely able to stand from all the effort he put up against her. Sweat mixed with blood was running down his whole frame.

Chris was smiling down on her as well, but it was not a gloating smirk she expected of someone in his position. It was a warm smile of a man who truly enjoyed sparring against her. No...not against her - With her. A kindred soul. Suddenly, Cassandra realized that she didn’t want to have her swarm ravage him until he begged for mercy. She didn’t want to hear his anguished cries. She didn’t want to hurt him.

Every single remaining mote of spite had left her body in a heartbeat the moment her keen eyes noted his hand in a motion to help her stand up, as he was finally upon her. Instead, playful mischief took its place. As well as a different kind of craving. She found her lust for passionate violence satisfied for the day… but her violent passion burned with a fire that could not be quenched by thoughts alone.

As the large man came within striking distance, the brunette daughter collected the rest of her strength to deliver one last precisely aimed kick, making the man stumble and fall, right on top of her. Cassandra’s husky voice betrayed her current mood, as did her wide open, passionate eyes and hungry mouth.

“How about a draw?”

Suspending himself over her with his palms on the flooring, Chris’ face was mere inches from her own. The hunger in his own deep blue orbs was unmistakable, even as he answered in a breathless, yet similarly passionate voice.

“I think I can live with that.”

Their hungry lips slammed against each other at the same time, eliciting gasps of shock from most of those present at the sundeck. 

Alcina, red in the face, appeared inclined to interfere, yet a gentle whisper into her ear, courtesy of Bela, calmed the noble lady down somewhat, though she still huffed in indignation. Daniela, meanwhile, was cheering and clapping loudly, as if she just watched a satisfying conclusion to a romantic movie.

The Hound Wolf’s Squad mirrored the Dimitrescu family to a frightening degree. Red-faced Rolando Elba attempted to move towards the newfound lovers only to be stopped by a firm hand of Emily Berkoff on his shoulder. The woman calmly reminded him that he should mind his own business and that their captain was a grown man, capable of making his own decisions. Meanwhile, Dion Wilson's own cheering rivaled Daniela’s in their intensity. John Perlman and Charlie Graham merely observed the scene with calm interest.

The rest of the spectators, Ethan included, simply gaped at the increasingly passionate embrace with bewildered expressions. If either Cassandra or Chris were bothered that their starved make-out session was as much of a spectacle as their previous fighting was, they gave no sign of it. 

Before too long, however, Chris stood up - along with Cassandra in his powerful arms. Ignoring every cry of disbelief and Alcina’s indignant protests, the B.S.A.A. captain carried the middle sibling away into the depths of the ship, away from the prying eyes.

Everyone was left simply speechless at this most unexpected of outcomes. Of course, Tom’s and Bela’s light snickers implied that they considered it a likely possibility all along. 

Finally, the awkward silence was broken by the Duke’s right-hand man himself.

“So...that’s that, dear spectators...now… we also have a chess tournament planned for today, anyone cares to join?”

A beat of silence passed as no one appeared overly enthusiastic about the idea, especially after all the excitement of the fight and its conclusion.

“Oh, I’ll be happy to join that! Wanted to practice my French Defense for a while now!” Bela’s chirpy voice betrayed her elated mood. Millie scoffed as she folded her arms and mumbled out a half-hearted agreement. Ethan didn’t miss how the shorter woman passed Tom a small stack of bills with a grumble. 

Guess someone lost the bet.

“I guess I’ll join as well. Let’s see what Bela's got.”

Ethan just grinned as he himself wasn’t much of a chess player, but would certainly love to watch Bela play. Somehow, that whole fight between Chris and Cassandra uplifted his mood way more than he’d expected it to. Truly, love can bloom in the most unexpected of places; among the most unexpected of people...

Notes:

I can't have enough of cute Daniela moments :/

Hope the long-teased Chris/Cassandra fight didn't disappoint :D

Ethan/Bela took a break from each other this chapter, but hopefully the next chapter will make up for it :P

Chapter 27: Romance in Horror

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Sebastian paced around the morgue as the freak did his vomit-inducing work. The tall executive couldn’t believe that shit got so bad. It’s like every single little poop of a loose end they left amalgamated to form one huge tower of feces that looked ready to collapse - right on top of him. He was not looking to be buried in excrement, but his available options were narrowing down with frightening speed.

Leaving his comfy penthouse behind, Sebastian flew all the way back to this crappy little HQ of theirs in Mauritania, while calling every available favor. His boss made it plain to him what will happen to his own ass, should he fail to stop the ever growing band of would-be heroes that arrayed against them. The stakes were high, and the margin for error non-existent.

As Sebastian arrived at the site, he was quick to despair, as the trail had gone completely cold. The Duke’s forces had raided their research lab, retrieved the subject and very possibly obtained compromising information on their activities, to boot. And now they were gone like the wind. Even the fucking B.S.A.A. Replica platoon somehow failed to apprehend them.

Sebastian had mentally started writing his will. That little whore of a niece of mine will not a get a fucking cent from me. Maybe I should just donate it all to some orphanages… They say it's good karma…

Before he could decide if he wanted to hang himself right here in this dingy little office with his tie, or just shoot himself in the head, a call came. The executive held his gilded phone as if it was his last life-line - for it was - as he listened to the gruff voice speak at him.

Apparently, their most important client was very satisfied with the E-001 prototypes, so far. Nevertheless, for the next stage of their plan to work, every loose end had to be removed. And to that end, they have sent their own agent, to lend a hand in locating and destroying them.

And that’s how Sebastian found himself pacing around the morgue, Mia standing silently in a corner by the door, instead; her eyes sullen and her arms folded. The woman insisted on being here, despite his pleas for her to rejoin her team in their New York lab. Without Ethan and Rosemary to threaten her with, the chief scientist became quite an uncontrollable asset, dead set on pursuing her own goals.

The agent himself looked like an average Caucasian male, with a military-cut brown hair and sharp facial features. He was dressed in combat pants and wearing a solid-looking jacket. That’s where his comparisons to humanity ended.

The man attended a line of tables with corpses  - The Duke’s deceased armsmen they’ve recovered. With a handheld circular saw, he went from one body to another, carving neat little circles right in their craniums - always in the exact same spot, with no hesitation whatsoever, as if he’d done that a thousand times. Blood and viscera soon filled the little morgue from his careless surgeries.

Finishing the gruesome procedure on the final, eighth body, the man returned to the first one. Placing his rotary saw back into his ‘toolbox’, the agent clapped his hands together as he muttered in a jolly tone, to nobody in particular.

“Let’s see what we can learn.”

Both Sebastian and Mia wanted to gag at the following sight as the man roughly grabbed the body’s hair - at the spot where he made the circular incision - pulling the whole roundish thing out - the hair, the skin and the bone. Tossing the part without a care in the world, the butcher proceeded to shove his hand into the large hole he made, before simply tearing a part of the brain out. Not missing a beat, the vile agent placed the gory bits right into his waiting mouth, chewing loudly, with blood and spittle flying in every direction. He was almost completely splattered by red ichor and gore at this point.

“Oh, God.”

Sebastian vomited as his stomach protested the grisly scene. Mia paled, but held onto her meal, nevertheless. She did a number of dissections herself, but this was pushing the limit.

The cannibal slowed his chewing, as if to savor the taste, for a moment. With a disappointed hum, he spat the remains out, while mumbling out the reason for the apparent distaste.

“Too decayed.”

Not wasting a second, the agent briskly walked towards the second corpse, before repeating the blood-curdling procedure.

“No connections whatsoever.”

And again.

“Too decayed.”

And again. Mia adopted a face of professional detachment. If nothing else, she was adaptable. Sebastian simply vomited, once more. Seeing his own stomach juices made the overseer seriously question his life-choices that led to this moment.

“No relevant connections.”

As the agent approached the final corpse, Sebastian felt sudden resignation. Even this filthy freak couldn't help him, it seemed. Being fed to a mutant shark is a fast and relatively painless death, at least it appeared that way, when he was the one observing it.

The agent savored that last brain bit for quite a while, however, making the executive tense with anticipation. Mia gazed at the freak with unbridled curiosity, instead. 

“Ah… grief...pain…sorrow... Someone mourns this one greatly. A lover? I can feel her stench… reaching out for me...calling his name… Andrei …His seed… inside her? Perfect...”

Mia and Sebastian observed the mumbling man in morbid fascination. The agent’s whole frame slackened as he tilted his head far back, with his eyes rolling backwards in their sockets, obscuring the iris. His whispered hissing of incomprehensible gibberish sent chills running through the duo’s spines. The sheer wrongness of this situation was not lost on either of them. 

Sebastian felt like he was going crazy, as he could swear that the maddening gibberish started resonating not just from the filthy cannibal, but from the walls...the ceiling… the floor.  The already bleak morgue dulled even further, losing the color until only the black and the white remained… and the deep, malefic red.

The shorter woman, despite her distaste for her overseer, nudged closer and closer towards him, until she was within an arm’s reach. Terrified out of his fucking mind and completely out of his depth, Sebastian reached towards the only sane object in his vicinity, engulfing her in a fear-driven embrace. She made no motion to break out of his hold, as her own eyes were wide in horror. 

The violent delusions persisted and intensified, and now the duo could swear that some thick red liquid - blood - was dripping down from in between the ceiling tiles. The whispering grew in volume, turning into a deafening cacophony of incomprehensible, maddening barrage of voices. The spilled blood started coming together...forming alien glyphs that beckoned oblivion.

The duo held each other as if their very lives depended on it now. Just as Sebastian was sure that his feeble mind could hold out no more - that he would be reduced to a drooling husk for the rest of his miserable existence, the overwhelming auditory and visual hallucinations subsided in a blink of an eye, as if nothing ever happened. They were back in the bleak, but decidedly normal morgue, if one could ignore the bloodied corpses.

For several more minutes, Mia and Sebastian remained locked in their embrace, simply too scared to move a single muscle. Unblinking, they watched the man near the corpses. Everything was deathly quiet, as nobody made a single sound.

Mia could not suppress a gasp of fear as the cannibal finally turned his blood-soaked jaw and insanity-filled gaze their way. Yet he was not looking at them, he was looking at the wall behind them. His quiet voice was one of malice, chilling them to their very cores.

“Ah...yes… Anya ...I see you…”

 

***

 

The day was drawing to a close as the warm summer sun hid behind the horizon.

Done with the eventful day, The Dimitrescu family gathered together; as they all enjoyed some much-deserved quality time inside a Finnish sauna. After the hot midday, the evening turned out to be surprisingly chilly as the trade winds picked up the pace. Bela’s proposal to warm up in the ship’s recreational spa center was met with gusto.

The last ten days was one deadly trial after the other - straining even the Dimitrescu inhuman bodies to their very limit. The four women’ bones and muscles ached, begging for extended rest and recuperation. Cassandra and Alcina, in particular, felt like staying in bed for a week straight after their respective struggles.

The Duke once again lived to his first-rate customer service policy. The sauna was tuned to provide the exact temperature for the maximum comfort of the unique Dimitrescu biology, allowing them to experience a taste of tranquility after a week of mayhem. The glorious heat on their naked skin felt simply divine.

The blessed warmth of the sauna had a truly rejuvenating effect on their drained physical shells. Meanwhile, their exhausted spirits were reinvigorated by the simple act of partaking in this uncomplicated activity together - as a family - once again.

Bela gave a sigh of contentment as she comfortably lounged on the middle bench, sharing it with Daniela. Cassandra - her body craving warmth above everything else now - lay on the top bench by herself. Mother occupied the bottom one, instead - not quite of a heat fanatic as her beloved daughters.

Daniela and Alcina enjoyed the sauna with a white towel wrapped around their bodies, wary of potential intruders, despite the reassurances of guaranteed privacy for the hour. Bela and Cassandra were completely nude, their own towels acting as blankets, instead.

Taking this moment of silence born out of contentment and serenity, Bela glanced over the forms of her cherished family. The elder sibling felt her heart crying out in joy at this beautiful sight. Letting her eyelids fall down, the blonde sister mumbled out the simple words she regretted not speaking more often.

“Mother… Sisters… I… love you.”

Some things we take for granted… and it takes almost losing them for good to start appreciating them properly.

Daniela was at her side in a heartbeat, her arms wrapping around Bela in a loving embrace. Cassandra merely playfully poked her elder in the back of her head with a single foot; Alcina graced her pride and joy with a wide and adoring smile, before whispering words of tenderness herself.

“And I love you, my daughter… my daughters, so...so much…

In a blink of an eye, Daniela was at her mother’s side, nuzzling her face into Alcina’s neck; purring in delight as a gentle hand stroked her wild red mane in return. Cassandra just chuckled at the wholesome, if peculiar scene. It still felt weird to see their mother so small and vulnerable, yet the girls adapted to it quickly enough.

For a few moments, the reunited family simply enjoyed the tenderness, as pleasant warmth engulfed both their bodies and spirits. After a while, however, Alcina spoke in a somber tone, even as she kept gently caressing Daniela’s head - which rested on her lap now.

“My daughters… I promised myself that I would never get in the way of your happiness again - not after we broke our shackles to Miranda.” Bela couldn’t help but narrow her eyes slightly, as she had an inkling of where this was going.

Taking a moment to compose herself, the matriarch continued.

“Yet… is this truly what you wish, my precious doves? To mingle with these men so brazenly?” Alcina, turning her head, leveled a pointed gaze towards Cassandra and Bela.

The brunette daughter was quick to respond, with some bite in her voice and her arms raised in defense.

“Don’t look at me, mom. I merely used the man-thing for its intended purpose. It’s not like I am tying my fate to it now or anything.”

Bela could not suppress a scoff at the performance the brunette put up with the derisive tone and the dehumanizing gender-neutral pronoun. Who was she kidding  with that charade?

Soon, however, the elder daughter had to hold back a gulp as Alcina’s burning orbs focused on her firmly, awaiting her own response. Collecting her resolve, the blonde woman spoke in a quiet but firm voice.

“I know it's not a simple thing to trust a man again, mother… not after everything… But Ethan is worth giving a chance.”

Daniela was quick to agree. “Ethan saw us at our best… and our worst. And he accepted us for who we are, anyway! He is kind and caring…”

“Not a bad punching bag.” Cassandra offered her own two cents, making Alcina let out a small laugh at her cherished daughter’s crass humor. Bela was next to speak for the man she grew to adore. Naturally, she did not give voice to her every thought that visited her increasingly filthy mind lately.

“Nothing in the whole world deters him from coming to the aid of his loved ones… is that not an admirable quality, mother?” And what a fine backside he has… How perfectly delightful his mouth feels on my own… These strong, firm hands of his...

Not noticing her daughter’s growing arousal, Lady Dimitrescu acceded to the point with a sigh.

“It is, indeed…” Gently moving Daniela’s head from her lap, Alcina slowly stood up from her bench. “I feel like I am at my limit here, daughters. Are you going to stay longer?” Three nods were her response. Giving them all a loving glance, her amber orbs stopped on Bela, once again. 

“I see that there is no talking you out of it, my dearest. I only want the best for you, my beautiful dove… be careful about who you let into your heart, lest you taste the bitterness of dismay.”

“Don’t worry, mom. If he breaks Bela’s heart - his own will be the price. I’ll make sure of it.” Cassandra commented darkly, making even her elder sister shudder. The middle sibling really knew how to spice every discussion with her violent commentary.

With a proud nod, followed by a resigned sigh, the matriarch left the sauna, leaving her three daughters alone. The moment she was gone, Cassandra bitterly hissed out a scalding remark of her own.

“I didn’t want to upset her, but mom is right, you know. Men are scum. You’re just setting yourself up for an inevitable disappointment, Bela.”

Bela gaped at her sister and the venom in her biting words. The way she so passionately gazed at Chris during their spar and the vigor of their make out sessions implied that she was head over heels for him. Something must have occurred for her to give the cold shoulder now.

Daniela’s reaction seemed a bit more subdued, a fact immediately noted by Bela’s keen orbs. As if the redhead was expecting this reaction. Feeling Bela’s inquisitive gaze, the youngest daughter gulped and focused on Cassandra, instead.

“Did you not enjoy the… uhm… the after-fight intercourse you guys had? You were...uh… nevermind.” Daniela's query sounded particularly meek. Bela had a good idea as to why now, and her eyes narrowed slightly, switching between both of her sisters.

At the question, Cassandra’s amber orbs lit up with that same passion Bela saw before. The brunette hungrily licked her lips before nibbling on her lower one, pondering the question. To the elder sister’s keen eyes, the answer was obvious - Cassandra was already craving more of that human’s attention. Nevertheless, the middle sibling’s tattooed forehead creased as conflicting emotions rushed across her mind. Finally, Bela has had enough.

“Well? Out with it! Was the sex good or not?”

“It was good… amazing, really… best I’ve ever had in my fucking life, if I am being honest.”

“What’s the problem, then?” 

Cassandra’s face twisted into a grimace of rage at that simple question. Her black lips curled in hatred as she hissed out the answer.

“That bastard… I give him the best sex of his miserable life… I give him all of myself. And as he comes and shoves his filthy mug into my hair, what does he say…?”

“What…?” Both Bela and Daniela were watching the frothing brunette with morbid curiosity. They rarely saw Cassandra so passionate in her rage. Usually the two emotions were mutually exclusive for the middle sibling.

It took a moment for Cassandra to gather her wits to continue. Apparently, the memory of that moment was so gravely insulting that she simply could not calm herself enough to express it with words. Finally managing to do so, she bellows it out in rage.

“ ‘Jill’ ! That fucking bastards calls some fucking Jill ! Who the fuck is Jill anyway!? That bastard… I won’t forgive him… I am gonna murder that bitch ...”

“Oh…”

“I need to punch something…or someone ...” Mumbling that, the brunette sibling leaped down from her upper bench and wrapped a towel around her form. Not sparing Daniela or Bela a glance, she rushed out of the sauna, her bare feet slapping angrily against the tile floor. The remaining sisters shared a wince.

“Cassi is mad…” Daniela unhelpfully offered, as Bela’s piercing gaze fell upon her, next.

“That’s an understatement. But Cassandra’s mental state is not going to get you off the hook, Daniela Dimitrescu.” 

Bela’s elder sister’s tone made the slightly smaller sibling cover, but say nothing. “You did it again, didn’t you? I thought we talked about it, Daniela. It’s a wrong thing to do - on multiple levels.”

“I don’t know what is it you’re implying, sister.” The redhead played with her index fingers as she responded, in a quiet voice. Guilty.

“Come now, Daniela, it's just you and me here, now. You know I am on your side. I just want to help you. But first you need to admit it yourself - you peeked on Cassandra and Chris going at it, didn’t you?”

The youngest Dimitrescu just huffed in faked indignation, before adopting that flawless poker face that made her elder smile with pride. The redhead’s tone was perfectly neutral, as well.

“I neither confirm nor deny that.”

Bela failed to suppress a giggle of affection from breaking through her admonishing facade. The elder Dimitrescu simply couldn’t stay angry at her younger sibling. Still, she had to make Daniela admit it.

“Ah… So… did Chris actually yell for that ‘Jill’ like Cassandra said? Poor Cass.”

Daniela started playing with her index fingers again, as she blushed heavily and answered with subdued curiosity.

“Maybe…? Cassi was moaning so loud, I couldn’t really hear anything Chris said. She did suddenly stomp out after the third time, though...”

“Aha! So you did peek at them!”

Daniela, realizing that she got baited into admittance, pouted cutely, even as she cursed herself mentally for how easily Bela got her. “Fine. I did it. I am sorry. I know it’s wrong. Happy?”

“I am not the one you should apologize to, Dani!”

“Ugh… Cassi will kill me…”

The redhead playfully poked out her tongue at Bela, before standing up and walking out of the sauna, leaving the eldest daughter by herself. The blonde relaxed as she lay down on her bench, letting out a sigh.

“One sister is a compulsive voyeur; another is driven into a fit of jealousy; while mother sticks with her misandric ways. What a colorful family I have. Wouldn’t trade them for anything or anyone.”

Quietly mumbling to herself, Bela - now by herself - couldn’t resist from having her thoughts return to that one incredible man who had laid claim to her heart. How firm he was during that painfully brief hallway encounter. How divine his palms felt over her body… her rear, in particular. She couldn’t wait to experience his touch over other areas of her body.

Would he be gentle? Rough? Would he call out my name?

Unable to help herself, the blonde began nibbling on her bottom lip, even as her own hand edged towards her nether regions; a veil of hazy lust falling upon her eyes. Her thoughts turned toward a filthier direction still, as she contemplated all the dirty things they could do to each other... The depravities they could commit, together…

Gimme thirty minutes and I’ll make you forget your precious Mia’s face…

She was already drenched down there. As she touched her own sensitive flesh, Bela did not even bother trying to suppress a moan of pleasure from breaking through. She couldn’t wait much longer for Ethan to make the next move. Bela needed to hear him scream her name.

***

Unaware of the fact that a certain blonde woman was thinking about him rather passionately at this very moment, a certain blonde man enjoyed his drink, as well as a rather rowdy company.

Ethan’s gaze was glued to his current activity, with his pencil-wielding hand hard at work; yet he listened to the ongoing conversation taking place next to him with great interest, as well.

“You gotta tell us about this, captain! Getting a vampiric bug-woman laid! Now that’s a proper continuation of your Kijuju legacy. Did she bite a lot? I bet she bit a lot.”

Dion Wilson’s vigor in questioning his captain’s romantic adventure could not be contained. Ethan himself could only grin as he noted a rich purple scarf wrapped around Chris’ neck now. Cassandra was a biter, no doubt about that.

“I admit, I expected her to be a very selfish lover...which turned out not to be the case… it was not half-bad…” Chris finally gave up a tidbit from that delicious encounter, as the pestering redheaded man was not relenting in his barrage of questions. The dreamy look that graced the captain’s face implied that it was a bit more enjoyable than ‘not half-bad’.

Suddenly, Chris’ expression noticeably slackened, as his fist clenched - almost cracking the glass he was holding. “I fucked up… I don’t know what came over me, but for a second - when I got lost in her brown hair - I just imagined that I was back in Raccoon City, that the last thirty years of my life was a fucking nightmare - all of it. For just a fucking second, I pretended it was just me and Jill back there and then, done playing cops for the day.”

“Huh…” The sound that escaped Dion’s lips betrayed the gears grinding in the younger man’s head. Ethan himself heard of Jill - a legend of B.S.A.A. in her own right, a founding member, along with Chris; as well as the captain’s former partner. Chris himself never spoke about her, however - not until now. The blonde father could only assume that they had a history of sorts… Pausing his work for a moment, Ethan turned to look at the two men next to him.

“So you called out for Jill as you banged Cassandra? The crazy, murder-happy, bug-vampire? That must’ve gone well…” At Dion’s spoken conclusion, the captain just sighed, as he buried his face in his palms.

“It was supposed to be just sex. No ties. I even told her as much - she seemed fine with it. But when I let out Jill’s name… you should’ve seen the look on her face - I doubt she would’ve been that livid if I'd slapped her across the face, instead.”

“Cassandra is a very prideful creature. And quite emotional too, behind her hard shell, I think.” Ethan offered, recalling his own encounters with the brunette sister. “I imagine that a notion that she was not the one wanted in that moment - hell, especially in that moment - would’ve been extremely offensive to her, distressing even.”

“You hear that, captain? Our resident bug-vampire expert has spoken.” The redheaded soldier was suddenly behind Ethan’s stool, his green eyes looking over the father’s shoulder with interest. The latter couldn’t help but consider the similarities between Mister Wilson and Daniela, even as the energetic man continued. 

“She probably thinks that you’ve merely used her from the start. Did you?”

At that, Chris' own forehead creased in pensive thought. “Of course not… I wouldn’t do that. Truthfully, I didn’t think much of Cassandra at a first glance - just some monster who got really good at pretending to be human.” The captain's face softened just a bit, as he recalled the highlights of his brief but intense acquaintance with the fiery brunette.

“And she turned out to be more than that. The passion in her burning eyes betrays the depth of her emotions - just like you’ve said, Ethan. And the genuine love she feels towards her ‘family’...no monster can do that.” Chris’ gaze turned dreamy, again, as he paused for a moment.

“She is just so goddamn refreshing in this fucked up world of ours. Just a beautiful creature of instinct and desire, happily living her life to the fullest, instead of merely going along with the motions - like the majority of us do. I envy her, I truly do. To be able to actually enjoy your life? I don’t even remember the last time I could afford to have that luxury...not until today.”

Before Ethan could respond, the captain downed the rest of his drink and stood up. “I...ugh… should apologize. It was not fair to her. I don’t know what is it we’ve got going between us, but at the very least - I don’t want it ending on such a bad note. Life’s too fucking short to waste on regrets…”

As Chris marched out, leaving just Dion and Ethan by the counter, the former man grinned wide as he spoke.

“That’s one amazing sketch, Ethan. You’ve got talent. I am sure Bela will love it.” The man in question glanced back at his work-in-progress with no small amount of pride. True, as a kid, all he could manage was stick-like figures, but as he kept pouring time and effort into that little hobby of his, the quality improved - considerably.

From the page of his journal, a very detailed depiction of Bela’s upper body was looking back at him, her brows furrowed in deep thought as she pondered her next move. With her dainty hand clutching a Queen piece, the beautiful woman appeared determined to crush her opponent, with wit this time.

After that little chess tournament earlier today, Ethan was inspired to sketch that particular pose Bela had during her own mental bout with Millie. The dark-haired woman put up quite a fight, but ultimately the victory - two out of three - went to the elder Dimitrescu sibling - her French Defense didn’t really need any practice, it turned out.

“Thanks.”

Ethan couldn’t help but take a moment further to admire his work, and the woman behind the inspiration for it. Despite everything else, he felt truly fortunate for having crossed paths with Bela. Merely thinking about her brightens his day, now.

“Captain is right, you know. Life is too short to waste on regrets.”

With that remark, delivered in a cocky and knowing tone, the youthful redheaded man took his own leave, not forgetting to pat Ethan on the back on his way out. 

“If only it was that easy… to just forget about Mia and move on.” The lone father whispered under his breath, with a tired sigh following after. He wasn’t expecting anyone to respond to that.

“Can’t hurt to try, can it?”

Ethan’s heart jumped to his throat at Eveline’s voice. The ghostly girl was now sitting on the stool that was previously occupied by Chris. Leaning most of her small body against a counter, the wraith continued, even as she gazed at him with a curious look.

“They’re right, and you know it. Who knows how much longer these peaceful moments might last, and you’re wasting them by stewing in misery.” The girl stood up before tenderly embracing him from behind, the man actually feeling her touch - it was freezing cold, yet he still drew comfort and reassurance from it.

“You two are all I have now… I just want us all to be happy, daddy… Me, Rosie, you… I know you can be happy with Bela… so why don’t you just try? Just tell Mia to fuck off the next time you think of her. Maybe it will work.”

Completely baffled by the sheer insanity of this whole situation, Ethan couldn’t help but let out a booming laugh, likely startling the other patrons. Grabbing his journal, the man took his own leave; the girl following him closely behind.

“Perhaps you’re right, Evie. But first, I’ll need to tell them about you. It wouldn’t be fair, otherwise.”

The apprehension was clear in her voice as she responded to that. “I am fine with Dimitrescu learning about me, but Chris? That’s a bad idea daddy. What if he goes mad and kills you ?”

The very concept of that appeared laughable to Ethan. True, the large captain would probably not be overjoyed with the news, but by this point the father knew him to be an open-minded man - the one who did not see the world only in black and white. The fling with Cassandra made that fact obvious, really.

“I am sure everything will be fine, Evie. Chris is a good man. He knows that you never asked to be made a bioweapon in the first place.”

“I just hope you’re right… I still can’t believe that prick handed Cassi her ass. I bet all my imaginary money on her!”

“Language!”

“Oops. Sorry!”

Before moving forward, Ethan was determined to confront the past and the present. With that in mind, the man headed towards his cabin, to pick up Rosie. After, the mess hall - where the Dimitrescu family was likely having a meal right now, awaited.

***

The grand opulence of the dining room still amazed Ethan, even after visiting it numerous times in the last days. Rosie likely shared his awe, if her open mouth and wide eyes were any indications.

With some curiosity, Ethan noted Eveline attempting to play a majestically-decorated piano, but failed to produce a sound, as her immaterial digits simply went through the keys. The disappointment in her eyes was palpable, making the father once again feel sorry for the much-abused child. It was plain for him to see that Eveline longed for a physical body of her own. She ached to interact with the world. 

Unable to do anything for the poor ghostly girl, the man focused his attention on the esteemed and well-dressed Dimitrescu family, occupying a large table, draped in rich maroon tablecloth, by themselves. Bela was noticeably absent from the group, but the rest of them glowed, as if they just emerged from a rejuvenating therapy of some kind.

Ethan couldn’t possibly miss Cassandra, in addition to having a healthy glow like the rest, glowering as well. The brunette woman was mutilating her red steak with a knife, to Alcina’s obvious discomfort. The middle child’s burning amber orbs connected with his own - making the man gulp, as her lips split into a wicked grin, one he knew well. Leaving her knife stuck in the meat, she made a motion of her fist striking her other hand’s open palm, not breaking eye-contact with him. The implication was clear.

Oh God. Don’t tell me she wants to take her anger over Chris on me?

Seeing the Hound Wolf squad dining on another table, Ethan was about to head their way, before a pair of familiar firm but gentle hands on his shoulders stopped him dead in his tracks.

“Ethan, Rose. Why don’t you join us for tonight? Mother will be delighted, I am sure.”

Bela’s husky voice in his ear sent shivers running throughout his frame. The father slowly turned on his heels to come face-to-face with the radiant beauty, grinning at him with mirth.

For this evening, Bela was in a black dress, not too dissimilar from the one she wore during Ethan’s castle adventure, except for the lack of hood, cloak and sleeves - showing her cascading golden locks as well as her graceful, well-toned arms.

Ethan also couldn’t have possibly missed Bela’s slightly tinted cheeks, as well as shaky hands and a wicked glint in her amber orbs. Her whole posture was giddy and simply standing in one place was seemingly a struggle for her restless feet.

Not waiting for his response, the blonde woman took a moment to grace Rosie with a warm smile as well as a heartfelt greeting, before roughly grabbing Ethan’s free hand and dragging him towards her family’s table, utterly ignoring his feeble protests. At the sight, Cassandra’s grin widened, even as Alcina’s frown deepened.

“Good evening, Lady Dimitrescu. Good evening, girls.” Ethan would not dare to forget his manners when confronted with so many pairs of vicious amber orbs.

“Hmph, Mister Winters… such a delight…” Alcina was less than delighted, clearly.

“Heya, Ethan!” Unlike Daniela, who gazed at him with nothing but adoration.

“If it isn’t my favorite punching bag! Perfect timing!” Cassandra's playful tone made it hard to tell if she was joking or not.

“Daddy isn’t a punching bag!” 

Rosemary’s sudden and fierce defense of her father drew no shortage of coos from Bela and Daniela and even Alcina and Cassandra couldn’t help but gaze at her with a measure of affection. The father ruffled his beloved daughter’s hair, thankful. Seeing as the noble family was just starting their evening meal, Ethan decided to postpone his revelation for a just bit longer.

Taking several minutes to find a suitable evening meal for himself and Rosie, the pair took their spots by the table; Bela still grinning at him from the opposite seat, a large tray full of plates with red meat on them next to her. Someone was clearly famished.

Somewhat uncomfortable silence ensued as the six vastly different people partook in their meals; nobody was sure at how exactly to start a conversation after the eventful day. Bela was clearly vying for his attention, however, as a shoe kept bumping into his legs. Someone was clearly famished and feeling mischievous. 

Finally, as awkwardness reached its peak, Ethan finished swallowing a particularly tasty morsel before offering a simple yet heartfelt compliment to the woman that was ravenously tearing into fresh meat on the other side of the table.

“Didn’t know you played chess so well, Bela, though I am not surprised.” The blonde daughter paused her feast to give him a wink, her suddenly shoeless foot sensually brushing against his inner thigh, meanwhile. Ethan could only marvel at both her dexterity and composure, even as he struggled to stay still himself. As her amber orbs sparkled with mischief, Bela’s tone was perfectly calm.

“Oh. Uncle loved chess. We would often play against each other when he visited… though that was long ago… Not gonna lie, rusty as I was, it was surprising to myself that I managed to pull that win from Millie. She isn’t half bad.” Bela grinned widely, showing her bloodied teeth.” I so loved that expression on her face when she realized I had her exactly where I wanted! Hah! Checkmate, bi..!” The blonde went red in the face as she almost let out a swear in the presence of her esteemed mother.

“Wonder where uncle is now… I hope he is alive and well...” Daniela mumbled out with an uncharacteristically somber tone.

Alcina’s voice contained genuine warmth, even as she responded with dismissive words. “That foolish little man is as resilient as a cockroach, dearest. I am sure that he is just fine.” 

“Of course he is! Karl wouldn’t go down without a fight, you know that.” Cassandra offered her own reassurance. 

Ethan himself wished that man the best, as he proved to be a valuable ally in his own fight against Miranda. It was not a stretch to say that he was one of the people the father owed his life to.

After several more minutes of peaceful consumption of food, a familiar song started playing. Apparently, a crew member brought an old disk player, which was the source of music. Ethan immediately recognized the song from their Romanian days. It was made by an old band called ‘Miss D & the Pallboys’. Mia was the one who bought it - as it was apparently a local favorite, but it was Ethan who got hooked on their catchy jazzy tunes and the singer’s beautiful voice.

Alcina froze, a spoonful of chicken soup not quite reaching her ruby lips. Ethan himself felt comprehension dawning on him as the deep feminine voice coming from the disk player sounded eerily familiar. He still couldn’t believe it until Daniela’s chirpy voice confirmed it for him.

“Oh, hey! Mama’s singing!”

“You… you’re Miss D!?” Ethan barely managed to splutter out, eliciting a giggle from Bela and a groan from Cassandra. 

“Oh, seems like you got a fan, mom.”

Regaining her own wit, Lady Dimitrescu returned her spoon to the bowl, before giving a longing sigh. “It was from a different lifetime, Mister Winters…a different life...”

Ethan realized that the subject was painful for the noble lady, so he did not assault her with a dozen questions he already had primed in his mind.

“Your voice is sooo pretty, Lady Dimi...Dimitres...” Rosie offered a genuine compliment of her own, but stuttered at pronouncing their family name correctly.

Alcina looked upon the child with fondness. “It’s Dimi-tres-cu, dear. Dimitrescu. And thank you.”

The rest of the evening meal went in a much more comfortable and relaxed atmosphere, with easy banter occurring all throughout it. Even Eveline was walking around the table, soaking every spoken word by the three sisters and their mother. It really felt like they were some kind of strange family to Ethan; who really struggled to keep his blushing in check as Bela’s relentless toes kept at his thigh, almost reaching his most intimate place now.

As everyone finished their meal, Ethan felt Daniela’s amber orbs burning holes in his forehead. It was time. Clearing his throat to attract attention, the father spoke with no little amount of dread in his voice.

“There is something I’ve been meaning to tell you…”

Daniela and Cassandra’s playful banter died immediately at the tone of his voice; even Bela’s foot finally relented. Alcina gazed at him with curiosity, as Eveline gave out an anxiety-filled sigh of her own. 

“But I think it would be fair for Chris to also be present for that…”

“Say no more!” In a heartbeat, the redhead took flight as hundreds of tiny wings fluttered in the direction of the exit. The tense silence ensued, which would likely last until the redhead would return, with the captain in tow.

***

Chris observed the raising and falling ocean waves as he leaned against the railing. The man’s dispassionate visage betrayed his inner turmoil.

When was the last time I even had a vacation? Four years ago? And then it had to be canceled after two days because of an emergency… Fucking hell.

The large captain originally wanted to go straight towards the source of his current headache, in a bid to find and apologize to Cassandra, but then he realized that he simply lacked the words to express his remorse.

Despite how brief their unexpected fling was, Chris found himself craving for more. And not just sex, either, even if it was among the best he’d ever had. He found himself wanting to learn more about her, to truly get to understand what made her tick. To comprehend how could she face the whole fucking world with nothing but a sickle and a stupid grin on her beautiful face.

But then came the issue. Chris still loved Jill. He would always love Jill, to his very dying breath. Even if his rational mind has realized that they could never be together, despite all of his hopes to the contrary, over the years. There were simply too many painful memories, too much grief and suffering, too much regret.

The last time Chris saw Jill - back in that Seattle facility - they couldn’t even look at each other anymore. Simply being in the same room as the brunette woman, Chris felt the horrible memories of letting her down, again and again - resurface. And that effect was even more pronounced on Jill herself, who was utterly overwhelmed by the vicious recollections of the horrible past she had to endure - for his sake. Because of his weakness.

That fateful plunge she did, for him. The dreadful years spent as an obedient murderer for Wesker, unable to control her own body, but so aware of every atrocity committed. 

The lengthy rehabilitation process that took years, full of isolation and misery. The endless tests that were run on her, to make sure that she was not contagious or still under someone’s control.

And then… the icing on the cake - being sold out by her own government, to The Connections. The following months that were spent as their labrat. 

All because of that single plunge she did. For him.

Chris’ grip on the railing tightened, bending the metal in its rage-driven strength. How he wished he could’ve gotten his own hands on that corrupt DARPA filth who traded Jill Valentine’s location for some bucks thrown his way. Leon assured him that this man would never see the light of day again, but it was not enough for Chris. He swore to himself - one day, he would visit that scum in his prison cell. Accidents sometimes happen, after all, and nobody would question him.

The man found some respite in that cruel resolution. Thinking about Jill herself, Chris realized that he hadn’t been able to establish eye-contact with her for years . The brunette-turned-blonde would always avoid looking into his eyes, and coward that he is, he did the same.

And then came Cassandra. She would stare into his eyes with no shame or remorse or regret. Just passion and desire. And he returned the favor, eagerly. The simplicity of their newfound relationship, if one could even call it that, was truly refreshing. Like a gulp of fresh oasis water, after wandering in the searing desert for days...

And I fucked it up already. Guess romance is not Redfield's strong suit, after all.

Suddenly, an already familiar buzzing sound took the man out of his dark musings. 

The man’s stout heart skipped a beat at the idea of confronting Cassandra so soon; but then his sharp and experienced ears picked up the subtle differences in the buzzing, compared to the brunette’s one. Cassandra’s swarm had a higher pitch than that, with her flies fluttering around with speed and synchronicity. This one sounded...erratic and chaotic.

“Heya, Mister Redfield!”

Daniela the redhead, the cheerful if ditzy sister, was suddenly at his side; her amber orbs gazing into the ocean with awe in them.

“Ooh, the ocean is so pretty tonight! Look at that crescent moon! So beautiful...”

Redfield glanced upon the smaller shape of a woman next to him, instead and sighed in relief - for not taking action that day. The Romanian Village Incident, they filed it.

Of course he had realized that the Dimitrescu family was alive and kicking after Ethan’s little adventure. He wasn’t stupid after all, and proper recon was an important part of every mission he undertook. Back then, after the Winters family was safely airlifted and secured in a temporary B.S.A.A. facility, Chris had considered returning, to finish the job. But then… the captain had felt like enough blood had been spilled that day and if Ethan actually went to the trouble to lie on their behalf - for their safety, then perhaps there was something worth preserving in that monstrous little family. And now Chris knew it for certain. There was.

“Ethan wanted to tell us something… mind coming along with me? Cassi is still kinda mad at you, though…”

The B.S.A.A. legend just grinned as he nodded and followed the eager sibling along, a curious thought running through his head.

Perhaps, everyone deserves a second chance… even me...

 

***

 

Anya was a simple stewardess, employed by the Duke and serving aboard his ship, for almost two years now. Much like the majority of the crew here, she also experienced a traumatic bioterror-related event.

Her tiny village - unmarked on most maps - in the Far East Russia, near the border with China was a target for a vicious Asian bioweapon trafficking organization, much like The Connections, just smaller. What was a simple test-run for the vile criminals was a bloodbath that claimed the lives of almost everyone she knew. Only Anya and another youth named Andrei survived, and only because they ran into the forest together that day.

Not long after the calamity that destroyed their whole lives was gone - a test successful - a person approached, offering shelter and work - in exchange for loyal service. The two young lovers accepted without thinking, as nothing was left for them back home.

And so, they trained and learned the ways of their new crafts. Andrei was always a fierce youth and the guilt for having everyone he knew slain while he was having his way with Anya gnawed on his heart. It was no surprise that he had volunteered for the Duke’s armsmen team, despite the obvious risks involved. 

They were treated well here. The pay was good. Moreover, the couple had grand plans about one day making enough money to return back to Russia, perhaps the beautiful city of Vladivostok, where Andrei had some distant relatives. They would start a family of their own there. A couple of lovely kids, perhaps a boy and a girl, fate willing.

Tears threatened to spill from her swollen red eyes, once again. 

Anya watched the reunited Dimitrescu family having a good time during their meal, as she did her duties silently. The Winters father and daughter soon joined them. And now, even the formidable and scary-looking Captain Redfield was seemingly on his way towards their table.

All of them seemed happy as they gathered around Mister Winters, as if he was about to tell them an interesting story. Anya was glad for them, as they all appeared to be good people, despite some of their origins.

Anya was glad for them, but she was not happy for them. How could one be happy for others when her own world crumbled to dust? Her Andrei, the last person she had, was brutally murdered by The Connection’s mercenaries. His body was left to rot where it had fallen, as they had no resources or time to retrieve it.

Yesterday, the Duke himself led a wake for all the fallen armsmen and Anya could feel the genuine remorse in the huge man’s beady eyes as he did so. The Duke, never swindling his own, also already provided her with the money from the life insurance Andrei had.

But what good is money when everyone you know is gone? When the love of your life is gone? When the man, whose child you bear is gone? Kindness of strangers could only get you so far…

Anya had felt nothing but grief and misery as she beheld the happy reunion between the Winters, the Dimitrescu and Captain Redfield. She didn’t even get to bury the man she loved.

Suddenly, a spike of pain from the back of her head took Anya out of her dark musings. A sound, not unlike the dead radio static, completely took over the happy voices in the dining room. A buzzing in the skull, as if some bug found its way inside made her close her vivid green eyes in pain. In a vain attempt to stop the horrible sound, she placed her palms over her ears; dropping her tray, that was full of food and drinks, on the floor - spilling the expensive beverages and ruining the meat.

As quickly as the intrusive feelings appeared, they were gone. The young black-haired woman opened her eyes slowly, but immediately closed them again.

She was not on the ship anymore.

Her body racked by violent sobs, it took her more than a minute to compose herself before opening her puffy eyes again.

A world devoid of colors greeted her. Nothing but black, white and malefic, deep red. An infinite ocean of red liquid stretched as far as an eye could see. It was shallow, however, as the vile, thick substance only reached up to her knees. The sky was pitch-black and featureless. There was nothing else.

“Мамочка...я в Аду…”

Anya could not recall a single word in English anymore - every single lesson she took simply vanished from her mind. Performing the sign of the cross, the girl mumbled a prayer that she knew by heart, under her breath, hoping that someone… anyone would get her out of this horrible place.

“Господи, Иисусе Христе, помилуй меня грешную…”

The only thing that answered her prayer was a body that suddenly emerged to float next to her. She knew not to look at it, yet she did anyway.

Andrei’s dead eyes stared back at her. 

Her piercing shriek went unheard, as nobody but her and the body of her lover was in that cursed, dark place.

***

Chris was ready to leap into action the moment he heard a crashing sound of a metal trey hitting the tiled floor. Looking around, all he saw was a female crew-member, in a steward’s uniform. She was clearly in distress, with her eyes closed and her hands covering her ears. Expensive red wine poured generously from the cracked bottle.

Before the captain could approach the young woman himself, the mess hall’s well-dressed manager rushed towards her.

“What’s wrong Anya!? Are you in pain? Do you want me to get you to the medical?”

For several tense moments, the girl kept to that pose of distress. Before the manager could say something into his walkie-talkie, however, she slowly opened her dull green eyes and relaxed her posture. In heavily accented English, the girl reassured her chief. Her face adopted a neutral expression, as she spoke - perfectly so, almost unnervingly in the lack of emotions displayed.

“Oh, I am sorry, boss… must had a dizzy spell, or something. I am fine, now… so sorry for this mess! I’ll clean it up…”

The young woman did as much, though Chris didn’t miss the strangely focused glance she shot their way. Inspecting her further, the captain found her motions unusually stiff, as if she had a hard time controlling her own muscles.

Apparently, everyone else in their little gathering lost interest in the peculiar scene, however, as Ethan regained everyone’s attention by clearing his throat. Chris himself just shrugged and once again focused on the blonde father. Clearly he had something important to say, and this strange fainting servant was of secondary concern.

As the gang retreated to a more private place - more fitting for the conversation about to take place, a pair of dull green eyes followed their every move.

Notes:

This chapter definitely was all over the place in terms of mood and setting. I personally liked how it flowed, but if you guys find the chapter overwhelming - do let me now, so I can adjust it in the future.

Ethan being good at sketching should've been a natural assumption of anyone who played the game and read his journal, but it took me reading 'Blood and Winter' by SylvesterM to get to that conclusion. You should totally read that work, if you haven't yet, as it was one of the several that had inspired me to give this writing hobbie a go in the first place!

A lot had happened in this chapter, so if you have any questions, suggestions or theories, always feel free to express them in the comment section! Thank you all for reading! :)

Chapter 28: Revelation

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The colorful and well-dressed procession followed Ethan and Rose back to their own cabin in curious, yet solemn silence. Everyone was understandably surprised when the soft-spoken father suddenly asked everybody present at their little gathering to lend him an ear for a couple of minutes. Even more curious was the fact that the man implied that it was something that would be better discussed behind closed doors.

The after-dinner mood was high, so the small party decided to humor Ethan and agreed to retreat to a more private setting - the Winters’ cabin. Even Alcina found herself unable to resist the man’s invitation, though her facial expression betrayed her distaste at the notion of entering a ‘man-cave’.

The trek to the aforementioned man-cave was a short one, yet it was filled with tense silence, with one exception.

“Hey, Cassandra, I wanted to s…” Chris, approaching the brunette, started mumbling out in a - very uncharacteristically for the large man - meek voice, but the woman would have none of it, interrupting him mid sentence.

“Huh, that’s weird. All three of us girls are whole, yet I swear I could hear some annoying buzzing just now.” Cassandra didn’t even glance Chris’ way as she spoke in a perfectly neutral tone; the captain merely gaped at her childish antics. Both Daniela and Bela played along - merely shrugging their shoulders, lightly snickering meanwhile.

The sight of Cassandra giving Chris the silent treatment was truly priceless, making Ethan and even Alcina let out a barely-concealed chuckle. Regaining his own wit, the captain just huffed and resumed the walk in silence, his arms folded.

Entering the Winters’ modest quarters, the group took a moment to accommodate themselves. Lady Dimitrescu selected their prized armchair as the most noble piece of furniture around, with Bela taking a standing spot behind it. The blonde woman placed her palms on top of her mother’s shoulders - Alcina reciprocated with a gentle smile.

Chris lounged on the sofa, one leg across the other; arms still folded. Daniela happily plopped on one side of him, smiling at the man mischievously, as she did so. Cassandra, the last person in, narrowed her eyes as the only sitting spot in the room was next to Chris. Scoffing in indignation, the brunette leaned against a wall, instead.

Ethan and Rose simply stood in the middle of the modest cabin, hand-in-hand. An awkward silence ensued since the father simply could not gather enough courage to start. Rosie herself was glancing at the assembled faces in innocent curiosity.

Daniela, knowing what the discussion was about and upon seeing his discomfort, leapt back to her feet and took a spot next to the Winters family. As everyone else was giving them questioning glances, the mischievous Dimitrescu graced the father with a conspiratorial wink, as well as a playful elbow nudge. Returning the gestures to the grinning Daniela half-heartedly, Ethan caught Bela's eyes narrowing slightly, as if somehow unhappy with the almost intimate display taking place before her. Her youngest sister grinned even wider as she noted the blonde woman’s apparent envy.

The non-verbal exchange that took place in the next minute was bewildering, to say the least. Even though not a single word was spoken, Ethan could almost read them on the sisters’ expressive faces.

 

Creased forehead, furrowed brows, narrowed eyes and lips in a thin line.  Daniela! Find your own man-thing! 

Playful, wide grin morphing into an unspoken question as lips slightly parted and gaze scheming...bargaining even. Maybe we can share?

Amber orbs and mouth opening wide in outrage, before narrowing in determined resolution again. No! This one is mine! Only mine.

Resigned yellow eyes dropping to the floor, mouth shifting into a cute pout. Meanie.

Arms folding, a victorious smirk. Hmph!

 

Of course, Ethan’s guess about the girls’ unspoken conversation might have been just that - a guess; yet Bela’s shameless wink in his direction, followed by her index finger pointing right at his chest, before her whole hand clenched into a tight, unyielding fist, implied otherwise. You are mine. Only mine.

“So, what is it you wanted to say, Winters? For God’s sake, get on with it, instead of wasting our collective time!” Clearly, Alcina had enough of the non-verbal games, and was aiming to get to the root of the issue.

Ethan was still tongue-tied, however. How exactly do you explain that you have another sentient being living inside you? Suddenly, with the spotlight on him and with Daniela making sure that he had no way to back down from this, the man simply froze as his mouth opened and closed. Evie herself was nowhere to be found.

Fuck… where do I even begin? So some molded zombie bit me in the ass and now I have a ghostly girl living in my head? They’ll think me insane! 

At his continued silence, Lady Dimitrescu narrowed her yellow orbs. The noblewoman obviously did not appreciate having her precious time wasted. Chris sighed with impatience, frustrated himself. 

“Come on, Ethan. Spit it out already.”

“Oh, God, just get on with it, already!” Eveline appeared suddenly, in between Ethan’s blinks, perched on Alcina’s lap - unseen, but comfortable, somehow.

Yet it was Bela who gave the man the confidence to reveal his deepest, darkest secret, in the end. Her amber orbs gazed at him not with annoyance or boredom, but patience and kindness. Bela’s small yet calming smile gave him all the reassurances he needed, as if saying: I am with you. All the way. No matter what.

Giving the blonde woman a smile of his own, the man gently squeezed Rose’s tiny hand as he failed to suppress a small gulp of anxiety, before finally clearing his throat and starting the fateful reveal. 

“So… the bioweapon that infected me back in Louisiana…“ Eveline frowned at the term chosen. Sorry, Evie. “It’s a bit more complex than just some fungal spores…”

“You’re talking about Eveline? Of course it's more goddamn complex than some spores. That monster took over the minds of almost a hundred people! I’d say that we could all breathe easy since we’ve dealt with her, but not with more of her kind on the way.” 

Chris was quite passionate about the subject. It was B.S.A.A. failed raid that allowed Eveline to escape her original containment back in Germany, after all, and Chris still felt the bitter sting of knowledge that he was partially to blame for all the mayhem she caused and all the victims she claimed.

Ethan could only nervously run a hand through his, by now quite long hair, as he glanced towards the frowning captain.

“Yeah… about that… Eveline was not ‘dealt with’ back then.” The large man simply gaped at him with surprise in his blue eyes, as he responded.

“We’ve finished her off ourselves, Ethan. I saw her mold form collapse and crystallize.”

The moment of truth.

“Most of her was destroyed back then, but… a part of her still lives on in me… and in Rosie. Eveline is alive.”

A stunned silence followed, predictably. The captain knew everything there was to know about the bioweapon in question, but the Dimitrescu family members were only aware of some details - that Ethan himself was infected by some mold-based infection, not that dissimilar to their own, in fact. And now it had a name. Eveline.

It didn’t last long, however, as Chris responded to that outrageous statement, deathly quiet. “What are you talking about?”

“Eveline is alive in me, Chris. I can see her as vividly right now as I see you.”

“Oh yea? And what is she doing right now?”

Glancing back towards Alcina’s lap, Ethan couldn’t suppress a smirk as he saw Eveline making a face at Chris, while giving him both middle fingers. Rosie giggled lightly at the vulgar sight.

“Uhm… She is giving you the finger, Chris. Both of them, actually.”

Daniela immediately howled in laughter, clutching her abdomen from the intensity of her sudden joy.

“I like her already! Nice to finally meet you, Eveline!”

The redhead accepted her existence already, yet the rest seemed unconvinced, especially Chris himself - who narrowed his eyes in pensive thought. After several moments of consideration, the large man sighed, as he gazed right at Ethan.

“I’ve seen this before - many times. Many survivors of particularly gruesome events report seeing things, hearing things that are just not there. There is no Eveline, Ethan. Not anymore. You’re just imagining her.”

Ethan simply gaped right back at the captain, slack jawed. True, he expected to be met with skepticism, but such outright dismissal? That stung.

“What are you talking about, Chris? Are you calling me delusional? Rosie sees her too!”

“She is a child, Ethan. Maybe she just plays along!”

“NO! Evie is real!” Rosie stomped her foot as she passionately confirmed her best friend’s existence.

“She is real, alright. She helped me get up after being shot in the goddamn head!” 

Recalling that horrifying event herself, Bela slowly walked up towards Ethan, before placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. Daniela’s wide amber orbs gazed at Chris accusingly as well, as she defended her newest family member.

“Ethan isn’t crazy! And he is not a liar!”

“It’s just impossible! Ethan went through regular tests at our labs! The brain scans showed no abnormal activity, whatsoever! The mold levels in his body remained stable and static - purely benign, in his unique case.”

Chris did not want to budge in his conviction - denial almost. Bela, ever quick with her wit, offered a solution to the apparent stalemate.

I believe you, for what’s it worth… But… perhaps you could prove her existence to us, somehow, Ethan?”

That made the father think for a moment. His eyes fell upon his sketchbook on top of a small drawer next to Cassandra and the metaphorical bulb was lit up.

“I think I can…”

Grabbing his little sketchbook/journal, Ethan promptly tore a blank page from it, before offering it, as well as a simple pencil, to Chris.

Cassandra, ever the sharp-eyed, noticed something that piqued her interest in his sketchbook. “Gimme that.” Not letting the man actually do as told, she tore the little object from his hands herself, before swiftly starting to leaf through the book - her eyes widening in surprise. “Oh, my…” 

Forgetting the brunette vampire for a moment, Ethan focused his attention on Chris, instead - who was looking back at him with a questioning gaze.

“Write a number on it - any number - and show it to Rosie.” Ethan provided the simple instruction before retreating into his own bedroom, which was connected to the living room they were all in. Inside the bedroom, the father simply faced a corner, making sure not to have a line of sight with his daughter. Both Daniela and Bela followed him, with clear curiosity in their eyes.

Scoffing, Chris did as told. Rosie glanced at the offered page, as did Eveline, who naturally understood the plan. “1998”

Repeating after his ‘imaginary’ friend, Ethan was satisfied to hear a light gasp of surprise coming from the older man. “He wasn’t watching!” Daniela was quick to point out.

“Maybe he just guessed…” The captain was still not satisfied, and repeated the procedure several more times, Ethan naming both the numbers and the words each time - correctly.

“What the hell…” 

Chris’ hand edged towards his pistol holster - on its own, instinct-based, volition. Before he could grip the weapon, however, his rational mind took over once again, dismissing the suddenly violent thoughts and making the large captain stare at his own hand in horror; even as Ethan calmly explained his connection, still inside his own bedroom.

“Eveline connects me and Rose, Chris. She can relay information from her to me or visa versa.”

“That is so cool!” Even as Chris had a whirlwind of conflicting emotions and thoughts rushing through his head, Daniela was simply awestruck, as her eyes lit up with that familiar mischievous spark. At the captain’s side in a blink of an eye, the redhead grabbed the page from Chris’ stiff fingers. Grinning playfully, Daniela scribbled something down herself, before offering the page to Rose.

“Oh, I like that! ‘Kiss Bela!’ Ha! Do it, daddy!” Eveline happily relayed Daniela’s message, eagerly awaiting the father to do just that - right in Alcina’s view.

Feeling surprisingly bold, the man complied, landing a quick peck on Bela’s soft cheek. An audible gasp from Alcina preceded Bela’s beautifully rounded cheeks gaining that incredibly cute light pink hue.

“Ethan! Not now…” Clearly, the blonde daughter was still a bit apprehensive about showing their affections before her esteemed mother.

“Sorry, Bells. You know I can’t deny Daniela.” The redhead in question appeared momentarily hurt by these words, as if recalling a painful memory that was associated with them. She quickly shook it off however, before giving Ethan thumb’s up.

Now looking back at Chris, the father could not help but feel anxiety grip his own heart. Even though Chris has somewhat relaxed his previously tense, almost aggressive posture; he was still glaring at him harshly, almost as if evaluating the newest threat. His tone did little to hide the hostility the veteran fighter exuded in this moment.

“So if what you’re saying is true and a part of Eveline is still alive in you, then answer me one thing. Why is she not taking control of you and using your body as a vector to spread herself around?”

“Evie doesn’t wanna hurt anyone…” Rosie’s meek voice answering his query surprised the captain almost as much as the unbelievable revelation itself.

“Rose is right, Chris. She didn’t ask to be made into what she was. She just was. She was just a kid who simply wanted a family of her own all along - but she went the wrong way about achieving that. I guess, spending some time with us made her realize that there is more to family than outright domination. That genuine love and affection cannot be forced. Eveline has changed.” 

The girl in question stared at Ethan wide-eyed. She never expected to be defended like that by a person she wronged. The whole Dimitrescu family appeared to be touched by Ethan’s words, as well, as something in his little speech resonated with their own feelings on the subject.

Chris scoffed, but the harshness of his glare softened just a bit, as he plopped right back onto the sofa. “So you just kept it to yourself - all this time? Why the change of heart now?” 

Returning back to the living room, Ethan was quick to defend himself. 

“No… believe it or not, I had no idea about her myself - until I got shot in the head. I guess the trauma allowed her to break through the barriers or something…”

“Barriers?” Chris appeared genuinely surprised. Ethan could mirror that emotion, now that he thought about it. That glass wall of his mental landscape looked awfully like a barrier. Eveline herself eagerly explained that little tidbit.

“I think it was Mia’s doing. She was adding something to your food - occasionally, that made me weaker, unable to influence you in any way. That was the barrier. She definitely knew about me. That injury simply allowed you to perceive it for yourself - you’re the one who broke it, daddy, not me.”

Nodding at his imaginary daughter, the father repeated the idea for all to hear. “It’s hard to explain, but apparently Mia was the one who kept Eveline suppressed and dormant inside of me. I guess that’s why all these tests reported me as healthy and semi-normal. Not sure if I should thank her for that, though. Just another secret she kept, it seems...”

“You’re full of surprises, Mister Winters.” Lady Alcina, who previously observed in evaluating silence, finally spoke up, even as she made a motion to stand up from the armchair she occupied. “I can see now why Mother Miranda was so interested in you, as well as in your daughter. I can only assume that she also knew about your… unique condition. I do appreciate the fact that you’ve chosen to share this information with us - I know it couldn’t have been easy.” Letting out a soft sigh, the noblewoman gave a slight nod to Ethan - a sign of minor respect.

“I shall retire for the night, if you’ll excuse me daughters, Mister Redfield, Mister Winters.” At that, all three Dimitrescu siblings promptly flew to their mother’s side, before engulfing her smaller shape in a loving embrace. The genuine warmth displayed by the girls in this moment was still shocking to both Ethan and especially Chris. Seeing Cassandra, in particular, showing such sincere affection was a stark contrast to her normal callous and crass persona.

The group hug lasted a couple of moments, but eventually Alcina gently broke it, and took her leave, glowing with her own warm emotions. The three daughters returned to their previous spots - Cassandra to that little corner of hers, while Daniela and Bela to Ethan’s and Rosie’s side. The redhead was quick to voice her next inquiry, as she knelt in front of the tiny Winters, giving the girl a warm and wide smile.

“So, Rosie! Can you ask Eveline for me, which one of us three is her favorite?”

Eveline immediately leapt to the middle of the room, her scrutinizing gaze evaluating each sister carefully. “Hmmm, that’s a hard one… I kinda like all three of you! But...if I had to choose just one… Cassandra! She is such a freakin’ badass! But I totally adore both Daniela and Bela, too!”

“Cassandra?” 

Ethan’s voice was full of surprise, with the aforementioned brunette similarly widening her amber eyes - bewildered by his answer. “Me?” That single word was laced with so much disbelief that for a moment the father actually felt a tinge of pity for the cruel woman. It almost appeared that she herself did not consider herself worthy of love.

Ethan proceeded to relay Eveline’s response completely, providing the reasoning. Cassandra’s surprise morphed into a prideful glow, as she flexed her arm. “At least someone has a taste, around here!”

Daniela herself did not seem to mind not being singled out, as she mirthfully giggled at her elder sister’s reaction, instead. “We all love you, Cassi!” Cassandra did not respond, yet her gentle smile was an answer of its own - the brunette appreciated the kind words directed her way.

Bela’s voice was surprisingly meek as she gave voice to a troubling thought of her own, next. “So… Evie is always watching through you?”

Eveline actually made a disgusted face at that, before providing a response, which Ethan faithfully relayed, with a growing blush on his face.

“Yuck! God, no! Imagine being stuck in a filthy man-body forever! I’d rather die for good! And you can count on me to never watch when he is doing that disgusting thing with his thing!”

Bela gave a sigh of relief a moment later. “Oh, good. I thought that we would have to deal with another little peeper.”

“Another?” Ethan couldn’t suppress the curiosity and alarm from seeping into his query.

Daniela immediately stood ramrod straight, as she adopted a perfectly neutral expression, that gave nothing away. Bela merely gave a nervous chuckle, before simply shaking her head, not willing to elaborate.

Eveline continued her previous thought: “Most of the time, I just hang out with my best pal ever Rose!” The girl in question smiled happily at hearing that. ”But I also need to sleep a lot, actually, since there is not a lot of spare processing power in that head of yours, daddy!”

Ethan simply repeated after her; dismayed at the fact that he basically had just insulted himself, one second too late. A trio of giggles and a smirk from Chris was their response.

“Eveline sounds like a lot of fun! I wish I could see her, as well…” Daniela was already eager to meet a new friend, yet none of them knew how to make that particular dream a reality. 

Bela, not done yet, knelt in front of Rosie, speaking in a solemn voice, full of appreciation.

“Eveline. I hope that we will become friends as well, in time. But for now, I want to relay my deepest gratitude for bringing Ethan back to us. Thank you. Thank you, so much.”

The ghostly girl, not used to being praised, simply nodded - her eyes wide. Ethan relayed the silent response with a little improvisation on his part.

“She is a little bit shy, but I am sure that she appreciates your words, Bells.”

A somber silence ensued, as for the moment, the barrage of questions about Eveline subsided.

Chris took this as a chance to approach Cassandra, who once again found herself absorbed in Ethan’s sketchbook. The father noted that fact with some pride, while musing about the brunette’s apparent artistic inclinations. Perhaps violence and sex were not the only things she craved, after all.

“Hey, Cassandra…” The captain tried to get her attention with words, failing miserably, as she simply ignored him; her nostrils widening slightly, as if she held herself back from doing something violent. Not getting the hint, Chris attempted to place a hand on her shoulder.

The moment his fingers touched the silky fabric of her dark yellow dress - her fist found its mark on his face. The punch was so sudden that even the veteran fighter could do nothing but land on his rear, some steps away from where he stood, clutching his now bloodied nose. Clearly, she held back, as his nose was not caved in into his face, yet not much, if her enraged visage was any indication.

“Don’t you dare to fucking touch me!”

Understandably unhappy with this violent display happening right in front of his three-year old daughter, the father folded his arms in annoyance. “Alright, that’s enough, Cassandra! Take this conflict of yours elsewhere.”

“Hmph. Fine. I’ll be taking this - for now. Have a good night, sisters, Rose and Eveline. Fuck you, Chris.”

Flabbergasted, Ethan could not protest the shameless appropriation of his property as the vicious middle sibling stormed out - his prized book, with many years worth of sketches, grasped tightly in her hand.

Surprisingly, Daniela was quick to help Chris get up to his feet. Even though the large man didn’t really need any aid, he accepted it gratefully, nevertheless. 

“Cassandra burns hot - in both of her passion and rage, but she won’t stay cross at you forever, Chris. Just give her time and space to think this through. She has to understand that all of us have difficult pasts; that we have trouble letting some things go. Sometimes, she just forgets that little fact and fancies that the whole world revolves only around her; that only her problems matter.” Bela offered her own comforting words, upon seeing Chris’ disappointed expression. The captain nodded at her, in gratitude.

“Your sister sure packs a mean left hook. I suppose I should hit the bunk, as well. Got some training with my guys planned for tomorrow.” Chris glanced at Ethan next, as he wiped his bloodied nose with a handkerchief. Harshness has left his strong features, as he brotherly patted the father on his back. “Look, I know it was not easy to come clean with that whole Eveline thing… I appreciate the trust - I do. Sorry if I overreacted a little bit with the interrogation, earlier. If you really feel like she means no harm, I suppose I have no choice but to trust your judgement, Ethan. Good night, boys and girls.”

Ethan smiled back at the larger man, before giving him a firm handshake. He was truly honored to get to know this seemingly harsh man better and better, as time passed.

As Chris walked out, only Ethan, Rose and two sisters were left… as well as Eveline, of course. Both children yawned cutely, implying that they were quite tired after the long day. Daniela couldn’t help but coo in adoration at the display - she really cherished his baby girl. 

At the affectionate display, Ethan only wished that he could help the cheerful redhead in overcoming her inner demons for good. Then she could interact for as long as she wished with Rose, unsupervised - with no complaints from the father.

Lifting his precious angel up, Ethan excused himself to carry Rose to her own room; the girl waved back at the sisters, who happily returned the gesture.

Tucking in his beloved daughter, Ethan took a moment to admire her sleepy features. The girl smiled back at him from her little bed, with warmth, as she mumbled out: “Evie gets to have new friends today… that is so nice… I wish Cassi and Chris would make up, though… I don’t like it that they fight…”

“I am sure they will make up, in time.” Though I imagine that fighting would be an integral part of their relationship, if it ever actually kicks off....

Ruffling his little girl’s hair, as well as giving her a loving peck, Ethan left his lovely daughter to her well-deserved rest. Evie waved him goodbye, as well. The blonde man did not miss the newfound spark of joy in her light green eyes. Clearly, the ghostly child was quite satisfied with how everything turned out.

Truth be told, deep down Ethan was still quite afraid of Eveline, himself. Just like Chris said, there was a risk that she would attempt to take over his body - and use it to spread herself around, making more molded, causing more misery. That her latest friendly and helpful persona was a mere act - designed to lull him into a false sense of safety and security, even as she wormed her way deeper into his mind, in a bid to overtake him completely.

But Ethan would not let his baseless fears influence his attitude towards the intangible girl. The father returned the wave, adding a warm smile to it.

Eveline smiled back. It was not a smirk of a malicious plotter, eager to enact some callous scheme. It was a warm and happy smile of a child, who had just received an affectionate gesture from her beloved parent. Closing her eyes, the girl dispersed into nothingness - likely entering a state of hibernation of some kind. 

Despite everything, Ethan was truly happy for her. Just like him, she had suffered enough and deserved a break from misery. He could only hope that things would go uphill from now on.

Returning back into the living room, Ethan found the two sisters engaging in a cheerful banter, as they cuddled together on his sofa. He momentarily felt bad for not having any wine to offer them. 

“Cassi really likes him - it’s so obvious! How long do you think she will stay mad?” Bela just shrugged, though a knowing smirk implied that she did not believe the conflict in question would last long; before asking a question of her own. 

“What is in that little journal of yours, Ethan? Cass couldn’t keep her eyes out of it, all throughout this peculiar meeting of ours.”

“Ah, just doing a little sketch work during downtime, sometimes. Nothing special, really.”

Bela scoffed, before folding her arms and inspecting his whole frame with her scrutinizing gaze. “Somehow I doubt that. Cass really has an eye for arts, especially paintings - I know, hard to believe. You must be quite an impressive artist if she was so mesmerized by your little book. Color me curious…”

“Ethan! Why haven’t you ever shown us your drawings! Ah! Can you draw me!? Please? Pretty please, with a cherry on top?” The pout Daniela was giving him was probably the cutest sight the father saw in a long time, not counting his own little darling.

“Oh, it’s really not a big deal, it's not like I am some kind of big shot artist or anything. It’s just a hobby… and well… I already did draw you… both of you, actually. Feel free to ask Cassandra to show it to you, since she so brazenly took possession of it...” Ethan sounded far more sheepish than he would’ve liked. For a second he was afraid that Daniela or Bela would find the concept of him sketching their likeness offensive… or even creepy. Yet the women’ expressions showed nothing but curiosity and mirth.

“For your sake, I dearly hope that you did not draw my cheeks fat. That would be unforgivable, Ethan.” Bela’s tone of mock seriousness made the redhead burst into a mirthful laughter.

“A little insecure there, sis?”

Bela blushed lightly at that, suddenly finding a very interesting spot to look at - a blank, undecorated wall.

Ethan could not comprehend how the blonde woman could possibly be insecure about her beautiful, rounded cheeks. The soft, delicate flesh beckoned for his own lips to make contact with it, as he shamelessly stared at them

“I sure hope I did your gorgeous cheeks justice, Bells. You’ll be the judge.” That compliment sounded a little awkward, as Bela developed even more of a blush.

Daniela, ever the matchmaker, felt the unresolved sexual tension immediately as the silence ensued. Standing up and dragging Bela with her, the redhead spoke in a playfully authoritative voice, her index fingers pointing at both of them, one at a time, as she roughly and unceremoniously pushed them to stand mere inches apart.

“I see what is going on here! Now, do what the Love Specialist Daniela tells you to! Close your eyes!”

Deciding to humor the girl, both of them complied. That turned out exactly how Bela expected it to, with the redhead chirpily yelling out a theatrical command, even as she gently but firmly pushed their heads so their mouths would connect. 

“Just kiss already! Let the passion flow between the waters of your mouths, as your hungry tongues taste each other freely!”

Ethan didn’t really mind this turn of events, as the sweet taste of Bela’s full lips was exactly what he was unconsciously craving for after the long day.

“This is so beautiful! Ah… I think I am going to cry!”

The redhead’s commentary saw the lovers, stuck in their passionate and deep - if a little impromptu - make out session, find their way to the sofa; with Bela ending on Ethan’s own lap, as the man held onto her back.

“I could watch you guys all day… or night…”

Ethan cursed his feeble mortal flesh as desire to breathe overwhelmed him, forcing him to break contact with her soft, full lips and delightfully warm and wet tongue. 

She was such an amazing kisser, Ethan couldn’t help but wonder - how exactly did she master this particular skill? 

Instead of pondering on it, however, the man merely fulfilled his earlier desire - by planting a series of feather-light pecks on her delectable right cheek, even as his own right thumb gently caressed the other soft cheek of hers. Ethan’s efforts elicited a pleased giggle from the blonde woman and a delighted gasp from her younger sibling - who observed everything with wide eyes.

A comfortable, quiet moment followed the pecks, as Daniela plopped onto the armchair, while Ethan simply stared into Bela’s gorgeous amber orbs. With his much-abused left hand, drawing gentle circles upon her thin black dress’ back, the man once again felt tranquil and at peace. The woman on his lap must’ve felt the same, as a serene smile on her expressive face likely mirrored her inner contentment.

Suddenly, the man let out a chuckle, as the surreality of this whole situation finally hit him.

“You girls sure are pretty chill about this whole Eveline thing.” 

Bela giggled, before playfully poking at his nose, as she explained the reason for their easy acceptance of the ghostly girl’s existence.

“Oh please, we had over 60 years of watching Miranda’s insane experiments running amok. Eveline sounds pretty tame, by comparison to some of the more outlandish stuff that crazy bitch came up with.”

“True that… we owe a lot to Miranda… our own lives, as well as mother’s… but I am glad that she is gone… She brought nothing but misery into the world. She made us kill so many innocent people…” Daniela mumbled out her own agreement, even as memories of the dark past apparently started overwhelming her, if her thousand-yard stare was any indication. 

Bela did not hesitate in dislodging herself from Ethan - while giving him another loving peck on his forehead - only to take the redhead herself into a tender embrace, as her hand gently rubbed her back.

“Come, now, Dani… this is all in the past… just let it go, dear. We are the architects of our own fate, now. That’s all that matters.”

Tears were glinting upon the youngest Dimitrescu soft golden orbs. Escaping one’s past was not an easy thing to do, especially when it was so utterly blood-soaked. Still, she nodded, wrapping her own arms around Bela’s back.

“It has been a long day, I think it's about time we took our own leave, now. Thank you Ethan - both for your hospitality and for sharing the secret of Eveline with us. We will not misplace your trust, right, Dani?”

“We won’t… Thank you, Ethan. Kiss Rosie and Eveline for me, would you?” The father could only nod, his own heart melting from all the kindness and acceptance he beheld today.

The two sisters, still holding onto each other, headed for the door. Before they left to get some rest of their own, Bela stopped. Turning her head to give Ethan a glance of affection, she muttered out something that made the man’s heart skip a beat.

“Ethan… I just want you to know that if you’re ever feeling troubled, in need to talk about something - anything, or just... lonely… my doors are always open to you.”

The father could not miss a spark of hunger glinting in her amber orbs as she empathized that particular word. This whole sentence sounded awfully like an invitation to an activity of some kind… 

Even as he felt heat creeping to his own cheeks now, the man gave the blonde Dimitrescu an unabashed grin. He would be a fool to deny this chance, especially since they would be arriving at their destination within days, and who knew if their peaceful lives could continue - with the whole fucking world after them.

Fucking Mia… She had a chance to trust me, instead of going at it solo - becoming a fucking mad scientist… turning abducted orphans into monsters! Fuck... If we are going to step into this fucking messed up world as the enemies of humanity, I want to do it side-by-side with Bela. Mia can go to hell…

“I think I might take you on that offer, Bells… Good night, girls…”

With a pair of “night, Ethan” and a conspiratorial wink from Bela, the Dimitrescu siblings left the father alone, to contemplate further upon the curious turn his life took.

Taking a quick shower, Ethan didn’t get to ponder upon the mysteries of the universe as sleep beckoned his tired frame. The man’s towel-wrapped body suddenly demanded immediate rest and he simply dropped asleep right at his sofa...though his dreams were anything but peaceful that night. 

 

***

 

Anya smirked as she walked through the bowels of the ship, a little backpack hanging off her slim shoulders. Few paid the little woman much attention - everyone knew the young Russian stewardess as a quiet and diligent worker; nobody had any reasons to suspect her of any ill-doings. Several pitying glances were directed her way, to which the young woman replied with solemn nods, even as she struggled to suppress annoying scoffs from breaking through. 

Appearances were everything. Even the smallest mouse - in the right place, at the right time - could cause the biggest harm. ‘Anya’ knew that well, therefore ‘she’ tolerated this pathetic... weak body; the disgusting displays of pity; as well as the newfound menial role of ‘hers’.

Not a single security guard or a fellow crew member questioned Anya as she gathered the necessary components to really light up this little yacht party of theirs. And why would they - the majority simply assumed that the young woman was merely doing her assigned duty. 

A large bottle of acetol; as well as smaller ones, full of bleach. A drain opener solution and some antiseptic. A trio of large aluminum cans. Simple mechanical devices - easily relieved from their sleepy owners by Anya’s nimble fingers.

Reaching her own tiny cabin and making sure to lock the door tightly, the small woman took a moment to admire her bountiful harvest, as she unloaded her hefty backpack on the table.

Starting on the delicate work, ‘Anya’ grit her teeth as a spike of pain shot through her head. Apparently, the dear host whose body was borrowed was trying to break free from her shackles of grief, surprisingly.

Tch. I was sure that little girl would’ve succumbed to her grief completely, by now… Instead she is fighting against me. No matter. By the time she marshals enough strength to break free, my work will be done.

Ignoring the rising pressure in her cranium, ‘Anya’ continued her own preparation for the night.

Notes:

I do hope that this chapter itself was not a disappointment and for any Bela/Ethan lovers out there - next chapter here will be dedicated to you, in particular! (though it will not exactly go as most would expect, I think :P )

As always, feel free to leave any thoughts or suggestions in the comments! I always love to read your opinions or critique!

Chapter 29: A Cure for Insomnia

Notes:

The second part of this chapter contains limited but explicit depictions of sex. Read at your own discretion.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The weather outside was sunny, with birds chirping happily.

Ethan frowned as he sipped upon his freshly-brewed coffee, while reading the newspaper. The coffee had no taste and the newspaper consisted of nothing but blurred, indecipherable lines, so the man put them away, to behold his lovely wife instead - who was suddenly sitting on a chair, across the table.

The happy husband could not suppress a hungry grin as her shapely form came into focus. Her beautiful, long locks of honey brown hair - still wet from the shower. Her kind, hazel eyes, gazing back at him with unadulterated affection.

Truly, Ethan experienced nothing but joy as his own brown-grey orbs could not get enough of the gorgeous sight that was the love of his life - his dear wife, Mia.

Sighing dreamily and marveling at how fortunate he was, the man almost missed a question, directed his way.

“Remember that mother is coming today? I trust you’d be on your best behavior, honey?”

Oh. Her. Mia’s mother made no secret that she absolutely loathed the fact that her brilliant daughter chose him - a mere middle-class systems engineer, employed by a little-known corporation, as her lifelong companion. Ethan could barely stand that nasty witch himself, but he made an effort to be a gracious host, nevertheless.

“Of course, dear. Having to tolerate an occasional visit from your mother is a small price to pay for these delicious ciorbă de legume you keep preparing!”

Mia smiled gently, pleased at his compliment. Before long, however, the smile morphed into a small frown.

“Principal Wells called - Eveline got into trouble again. Apparently, she was trying to bully someone into giving her their lunch money, and when they refused - she molded them. You really have to put your foot down, unless you want our precious baby girl to grow into a real monster!”

Eveline. Their beautiful ten year old daughter. She was always causing mischief, but Ethan could not stay angry at their dark-haired angel for long. Still, he needed to teach her the importance of respecting other people’s boundaries, if he ever wanted her to become a well-adjusted individual. 

Having said her piece, Mia stood up and headed towards the kitchen sink to wash some dishes, opening a couple of cupboards in the process. 

Suddenly, the birds stopped chirping. Menace became palpable, utterly taking over the previous carefree atmosphere. Ethan felt a chilly shiver run through his body. Ominous stormy clouds quickly took over the sunny weather outside their house, complete with lightning and thunder. 

“Ethan… what is this?”

Mia spoke the question with no small amount of malice in her tone, as she produced black, lacy panties from one of the cupboards.

“Uh… I can explain!” Ethan really couldn’t as his mind drew a complete blank on the compromising object and its nefarious origins.

The woman, her back still turned towards him, exploded in rage at his meek response.

“You’ve slept with that Romanian hussy again! That fucking bug-whore! I swear I will freeze her fucking ass next time I see that bitch! You bastard… I should’ve listened to my mother when she told me to stay away from you… you lowlife scum!”

Ethan wasn’t sure exactly who Mia was talking about, yet he felt the burning urge to defend her , nevertheless.

“Oh yeah? At least she doesn’t lie to me all the fucking time! Pity your old hag didn’t tell you to stay away from child-kidnapping, bioweapon-trafficking terrorist organizations! You bitch! Your ciorbă de legume sucks, by the way!”

“You dare insult my cooking now!? That is the last straw!”

As Mia turned her visage towards him, Ethan fell down from his chair in shock and fear, as his dear wife took an utterly terrifying appearance, with dark veins crisscrossing every inch of her exposed skin and inky-black liquid dripping down from her empty eye-sockets.

Suddenly revving a chainsaw, Mia advanced upon her prone husband, even as he tried to crawl away to safety - towards their back entrance. His salvation turned to be a dead-end however, as the unmistakable shape of Mia’s hag of a mother - with a similarly mold-like, inky black body waited him right outside the glass door; enormous and bloody butcher knife clutched in her oily hand.

“Come here, you wretch! We will show you how Ashbury women traditionally deal with infidelity!”

Utterly gripped by horror, the father finally jumped back to his feet and rushed towards the main entrance, even as Mia’s chainsaw slammed down where his body was mere moments ago.

Gaining some distance from the mutated, crazy bitches, Ethan hastily made his way through the rapidly decaying house, as that same disgusting oil-like substance now freely dripped through every crack in the walls and the ceiling. The vicious roar of a chainsaw, as well as inhuman, banshee-like screeches were coming from just behind him - promising nothing but agony and dismemberment.

The sound of wooden door breaking, followed by Jack Baker’s unmistakable voice turned Ethan’s rush into a mad, heedless sprint. “Here's daddy!”

Finally reaching their front door, the panicked man did not hesitate to slam it open, letting out a sigh of relief as he did so. The feeling of potential safety evaporated instantly, however, as the hulking shape of Chris Redfield greeted him, pistol raised and pointed right at his head.

“Sorry, Ethan.” 

 

Bang

 

***



Ethan shot up violently, his forehead covered in a thin sheen of sweat. His heart beating erratically, the man glanced around his dark room wildly with his unfocused and blurry vision.

There is something cathartic about the realization that the horrifying reality one found himself in, turned out to be a mere dream, after all.

With that thought in mind, Ethan let out a deep breath of solace. 

Eveline was not on a monstrous rampage in her school. Now that was a weird thing to dream about, huh…  

Mia and her mom were not after him...well not in a direct and brutal way like that, anyway...hopefully. 

Jack was just a bad memory now. Chris was not going to shoot him in the head. Definitely not.

“Just another nightmare…”

His third one, this night. Something was in the air tonight, as anxiety skittered inside the man’s stomach pit. The unease radiated throughout his whole frame as Ethan stood up from his comfy little sofa, not a wink of sleep remaining in his eyes - which were still widened in fear.

Checking his clock and realizing that he had slept for mere four hours, the man grabbed a bottle of water, drinking from it greedily, before proceeding into their tiny bathroom to get himself into shape. He was not going back to sleep tonight, not when his brain appeared determined to assault him with conjured horrors.

As Ethan shaved, he couldn’t help but shudder at the memory of the last time his nightmares were that unrelenting in their intensity - several nights before Mia met that fucking stranger in the park. When everything went downhill and their peaceful lives were shattered for good.

Mia… we were so happy together… you, me and Rosie… but it was all a lie… or was it?

Ethan felt a lone tear dripping down his bloodshot eye. Behind his tough facade, there was a vulnerable man, who only sought quiet and peaceful family life. Could that simple dream ever become a reality now?

What if Mia was right? What if all I achieved was to condemn Rose to a life of a fugitive… always on the run… always in fear. Never knowing the comfort of her own bed again… God…

Tears started flowing freely now, as the depth of the consequences of his choices so far finally struck him hard. Would his daughter curse his name when she grew up, knowing nothing but strife, and having him to thank for it?

Due to his shaky hand, the shaving razor cut deeply across his cheek, drawing blood.

I am just a failure of a father, aren’t I? To put my precious angel in so much danger… Damn it all.

As the man finished his morning routine, the dark thoughts did not relent, but intensified. Every mistake, every failure now reared its ugly head, threatening to consume him whole. As strong as he was, Ethan was not unbreakable, and this fight against his own inner demons appeared to be too much to face on his own.

Taking a moment to check on his peacefully sleeping child, Ethan’s face was visited by a ghost of a smile, as at least someone was getting rest on this ominous night.

With no goal or destination in his conscious mind, the restless father simply left their little cabin - in just a white bathrobe and a pair of slippers.

Some walking should do me good...

Roaming the poorly lit and deserted halls brought little comfort to his exhausted spirit, however. He could swear that Mia’s carefree laughter, from their earlier days as a couple, before Rosie was born, before even that whole fucking mess in Louisiana - resonated across the narrow halls.

Attempting to escape the painful reminder of the happy past, the man moved in the opposite direction the ghostly laughter came from, until he found himself standing right outside the familiar door. Bela’s own cabin. On its own volition, before Ethan could even rationally think about it, his hand, as desperate for comfort as the rest of him, had already knocked on the door.

Oh, right, if Ethan Winters is not sleeping well, Bela Dimitrescu should neither! Well done, Ethan!

Before he could contemplate further on his egotistical act, the door slowly opened, and Ethan’s breath was caught in his throat as he beheld the gorgeous woman in a long black nightgown. His mouth attempted to mumble out an apology the moment her questioning yellow orbs connected with his own eyes.

“Gosh, sorry Bells, it's 4 AM and you’re probably fast asleep…”

“I am not, actually. What’s wrong, Ethan? Can’t sleep? Come in.”

Not questioning his choice of attire, the blonde woman’s firm grip was immediately upon his hand, dragging him inside her cabin, before closing the door.

As she rushed towards her tiny kitchenette, Ethan took a moment to appreciate the state of her large bed - a tangled mess of sheets that implied that she was resting in it, before he so rudely barged in. Her smartphone was lying on its side, the screen still alight.

In his shameless curiosity, the man peeked at the device at the last moment before it went black - a YouTube channel on it made the man’s jaw slacken in disbelief. 

Dragonball Z abridged? What.

“Some wine? You look like you need it.”

Before he could refuse, the woman already poured him a glass, as well as one for herself, as she sat on a chair next to a small table, with her arms supporting her chin.

Shrugging his tired shoulders, the man simply sat on the chair opposite of hers, as her inspecting gaze focused on his sagging frame. Her tone today was one of soft curiosity, it seemed.

“Tell me about it, Ethan.”

Her laconic request, as well as her comforting gaze made the exhausted man quickly down the offered drink before doing just that.

As if a dam was broken, the tsunami of long-repressed fears and worries that ate upon Ethan’s soul was unleashed upon the Dimitrescu daughter.

With Ethan pouring out all the uncertainties of the future that gnawed on his heart, Bela’s own eyes widened as the extent of the man’s suffering became apparent. Moving with soft steps, the elder Dimitrescu sibling carefully hugged the now freely sobbing man, as she gently guided him to her bed, where the empathetic woman covered their entangled bodies with sheets, before simply holding the father - in her comforting and tender embrace. And then she merely listened to all he had to say, for she knew that Ethan had to get it out of his system.

“Rosie will hate me, when she grows up, won’t she? Her worthless bastard of a father, who made her run afoul of the international crime syndicate… or the one who almost shot her mother.. Or the one who made her a fugitive from the whole fucking world…”

Ethan just kept mumbling, even as his tears and shaking slowly subsided, his whole body being soothed by the solace brought by Bela’s tender embrace. The woman carefully soaked in every single word he’d muttered, meanwhile, even as her fingers found his own.

Finally, as Ethan’s whirlwind of fears - given voice - died down, the elder daughter spoke, in a quiet but firm voice that brooked no argument.

“Ethan… the choices you’ve made in the past are just that - in the past. You cannot change them anymore, even if you wished to do so. You worry about your mistakes and your failures, and that’s understandable, but ultimately - futile. There is no point dwelling on ‘what ifs’. All you can do now is make the best out of this situation we all found ourselves in. And you don’t need to do it alone… for we are all on the same boat… literally, heh.”

Her hot breath on the back of his neck was as reassuring as her spoken words. Moreover, Bela’s carefree mirth at the last part made the man turn around in her embrace, locking their eyes together. She gazed back at him with nothing but affection, even as her thumb played around with his cheek - so lovingly that the man felt some of his worries melt away, from that simple gesture alone. Her soothing tone made even more of them fade away, as she continued.

“So many good people are behind us, and we actually have a solid plan for how to confront our foes. Why focus on the worst possible outcome, when there is still hope that everything will work out? Despite everything Mia had said, I still believe that Rosie can grow up free and happy, if only we do our best for her. Will you do your best for her, Ethan? I know I will. For her, and for my own family. And for you , Ethan.”

Ethan felt his shattered psyche mending together - from the outpour of genuine affection from Bela. Moreover, the man also drew reassurance from the fact that she wasn’t simply saying what he wanted to hear. The father plainly heard conviction in her voice - she herself believed in every word she'd let out. 

“I will…” 

“Good! Come what may, we will be ready for it - together. But now…” Bela traced her delicate finger across his minor shaving accident, some leftover liquid blood sticking to it. “You have been through so much… We have been through so much. Don’t you think we deserve a break from misery and strife? Don’t you think we deserve a chance to be carefree and happy - just for a little while?” The blonde woman licked her finger, savoring his blood with a serene smile on her beautiful face, with Ethan’s eyes following her lithe digit, mesmerized.

Ethan saw where this was going, yet he no longer felt the need to run from it. “We do…” The ghost of Mia - an amalgamation of all of his regrets, the guilt, the shame - was quick to coalesce before him, standing in the door frame with a scowl on her face, as her eyes glared at him in judgement. Ethan could vividly hear her voice. So much for our vows of marriage, huh, husband?

Deciding to follow Eveline’s advice, the man gathered his anger together. His rage - accumulated from Mia’s despicable actions, her endless lies, her empty promises - was wielded as a sword against the phantasm. Fuck you , Mia.

And just like that, the visage of his wife of ten years was shattered and in its place stood Bela, making Ethan blink in surprise. 

At his vocalized agreement, the blonde woman had dislodged herself from their embrace, only to stand up and unknowingly occupy that very spot where the ghost of his wife haunted Ethan from.

Standing there, Bela was giving him a seductive grin, and the man could do nothing but answer in kind. His hands were already itching to relieve her of that obstructive black nightgown. Ethan was not given a chance to do so, as the woman spun in a sensual and slow manner, with her hands on her hips. 

Ethan’s eyes went wide in shock, as Bela’s whole frame shimmered - solid flesh giving way to black-winged insects, just for a blink of an eye. The very next moment, as Ethan lifted his tired eyelids once more - there stood Bela, with her nightgown lying on the floor, discarded and forgotten. The dark lacy panties was the only article of clothing that still decorated her amazingly fit shape. With some minor discomfort, the man noted that her undergarment appeared suspiciously alike to the ones from his nightmare.

Dismissing the thought as irrelevant, if curious, the man simply admired the gorgeous creature that stood in that doorway. Her whole hourglass figure, utterly flawless to his eyes. The way she still held her well-toned arms so that her hands could connect to her feminine hips. That cocky, self-assured smirk she was giving him right now. The perky, moderately-sized breasts, with their delicate nipples already hardening from the slightly chilly night air.

“Nice trick…” The man simply could not take his eyes off her.

“It is, indeed! Like what you see, Ethan?” Bela’s playful voice sent shivers of excitement down his spine. He was aroused already.

“How could I possibly not..?”

Bela only giggled in response, before slowly, sensually, marching right towards her bed. No… their bed, at least for this night. With a flick of her wrist, the bed sheets were carelessly tossed aside, exposing the man and his white bathrobe. 

For the next moment, the blonde woman hesitated, with her eyes narrowing in pensive thought. Her voice was meek, as if afraid of refusal.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Ethan?”

How could he possibly deny her? Even if she wasn’t the most beautiful creature he had ever laid his eyes on, he would still love her - for the only things that overshadowed that gorgeous frame of hers were her incredible, selfless deeds; the infinite devotion she displayed towards her loved ones.

“Yes, Bells. I am sure.” 

And just like that, the doubt died in her expressive amber orbs, as her deft fingers quickly set to work on his robe’s belt. Moments later, the white garb was sent hurling into the corner, as the man was left as naked as a newborn.

Ethan could not suppress a light blush from coloring his cheeks, as he was already quite hard down there - merely from the sight of her. Bela only giggled at his reaction, before breaking eye contact and taking him in.

“Hmm, it appears my dear sister was wrong in her initial assessment of you.”

Bela’s tone was playful; her eyes widened as she beheld her lover. Ethan did not hesitate in giving voice to his curiosity.

“Assessment?”

Bela hummed, even as she gave her lips a long and unbearably sexy lick - her pink tongue going far out in its dramatically circular motion. For that moment, the normally stoic woman appeared much like a lustful demoness to Ethan’s shocked eyes.

“Mhm. Remember when you first barged into our castle? Cass, ever the crass one, postulated that you must’ve been compensating for something with that oversized shotgun of yours!”

“Oh…” 

Ethan never considered himself particularly big in that department, but he was quite pleased that his partner for this night apparently found him satisfactory. His next thought actually made the man laugh out loud, to Bela’s own delight.

Can’t believe Cassandra tried to measure my dick all the way back then… huh!

A ghost of annoyance flashed across Bela’s radiant face, as a peculiar and troubling thought rushed through her mind.

“I trust Eveline is asleep now?

Bela appeared genuinely upset that their privacy for the night might be imperiled but Ethan was quick to reassure her.

“I think so… I do feel a sort of a light pressure in the back of my head whenever she is around - and I don’t feel that now.”

“Good. This isn’t for children to see.”

“What about Daniela?” Ethan couldn’t suppress a self-satisfied smirk from breaking through his stoic expression. Bela stared at him in curiosity and surprise, at that. Ethan simply grinned back, as she responded.

“You’ve figured it out, huh?”

“Well, you two weren’t exactly subtle about that…”

“Mhm, true, I suppose. As to your query… she should be asleep, but no harm in checking.”

Raising her right hand up, Bela forced it to disperse into a swarm of flies - each agile insect selecting a direction, before committing to it, as Ethan gaped in wonderment. The tiny bugs checked underneath the bed, in the bathroom, the wardrobe, as well as numerous other places that could theoretically conceal the peeping redhead. Moments later, they returned, reforming as her hand once again.

“How do you military men say this? Just ‘Clear’?”

Ethan could only dumbly nod, still amazed at her casual display of such supernatural powers.

Finally, having had enough of words and free of distractions, the blonde Dimitrescu advanced until her lacy underwear was poised right over his manhood and her grinning mouth inches away from his own. For a moment Ethan was afraid the woman would attempt to ride his cock just like that, as the organ was quite rusty from the lack of attention it received lately… he felt not far from cumming already , truth to be told.

Instead, her hungry mouth assailed his own, with the intensity and the passion of their kiss allowing the man to focus on nothing else. Her full pink lips felt amazing on his own, as her hot tongue explored every inch of his mouth - Ethan’s own one responding in kind. The already magnificent experience was then completed by her cascading blonde locks, all over his face, smelling pleasantly of strawberry shampoo.

Before too long, however, the elder Dimitrescu sibling broke their starving mouths apart, eliciting a groan of disappointment from Ethan. Her wet tongue lingered on his lips, then advanced to the already healed shaving scratch, tasting the skin, licking remaining blood off, before retreating behind her grinning lips.

In a show of spectacular agility and grace, the blonde woman on top of him repositioned their bodies - pushing Ethan further up on the bed, making him lean against a small tower of pillows, while kneeling herself in between his legs.

The man could only stare in fascination as Bela observed his reproductive organ with great interest, as if it was a magnificent study specimen. Upon noticing his discomfort at the distinct lack of her touch upon his body, the blonde woman giggled as she finally saw fit to deign his throbbing member with her delicate digits’ attention.

Ethan moaned in pleasure as her firm yet gentle fingers worked their magic. Again, the man found himself surprised at the skill Bela displayed in this activity - surely that was not something she could’ve had much practice with in their foreboding castle, where males were tortured, slaughtered and bottled for wine. Or was it?

The curious, yet irrelevant thought gave way to raw pleasure, as she kept massaging his penis with skillful strokes, down and up his shaft. Mere moments later, Bela’s warm hands, engulfing his long-neglected member in their masterful motions, finally proved too much. As he came, a little bit of his cum shot up right up her lips, which she promptly licked off.

“Mhm, not enough to get a proper taste…” 

Apparently deciding to leave that for later, the woman was once again on top of him - her soft lips pressed against his own. Seemingly dissatisfied at the lack of his touch now, the woman mumbled out an invitation for him to rectify that issue, in between their passionate kisses.

“You know, you’re allowed to touch me, Ethan…”

That brought the man out of his awestruck trance - he could still hardly believe this was actually happening. His eager palms were quick to place themselves around her delectable mounds of flesh. They were soft, yet firm and they filled up his palms perfectly . As Ethan actively started playing with them, Bela let out a pleased moan. The man mentally grinned at the simple discovery - clearly, her perky breasts were a very sensitive spot.

Intensifying his rubbing, as well as involving her nipples in the process, Ethan was delighted to hear her letting out more and more moans, as well as an occasional louder squeal of ecstasy. Too flushed to continue their make out session, Bela broke her mouth off, to take a deep breath.

Ethan took that as an invitation to start exploring her delightfully pale neck -  gracing the tender, sensitive skin with loving and long kisses; nibbling on it so very slightly. Bela looked like she was on Cloud 9, as she craned her head backwards, allowing more space for Ethan’s affectionate work.

Apparently, the combined assault of Ethan’s fingers and mouth proved too much for Bela, who was clearly quite out of practice herself. With a particularly loud gasp of pleasure, the woman came, her juices running down her lacy panties, only to end up on his skin. Deflating like a balloon, Bela rested her head on his attractively muscled chest, sighing dreamily all the while.

“That was so good, little one … but we are only just starting…”

“Little one?” Ethan raised one eyebrow in confusion, even as he kept planting light kisses on her blonde head.

“Ha, ops. That’s the term we have often used to describe human intruders into our castle - since most would appear quite little, compared to mother, or our own elevated, floating bodies. I suppose it's sort of fitting, since you’re looking to invade my castle, now…even if you’re… not quite little.”

The woman giggled, before raising her head to gaze into Ethan’s passionate eyes, giving him a playful pout. A sudden recollection struck her mind and it demanded a proper resolution.

“Remember what you did to me, in that hallway?” 

Ethan figured out that she probably referred to that slap on her ass he did, but decided to play dumb, anyway. “What hallway, precisely? We’ve been in quite a few of them already.”

Suddenly, like a tiger about to pounce upon unsuspecting prey, Bela was poised above him, grinning in playful malice as her well-toned arms placed themselves firmly at the sides of his head.

“Playing coy, I see… You’ve slapped my rear, Ethan. In plain view of everyone… only bad boys do that… and what happens to the bad boys?”

“Uhm… they get punished?”

“Exactly.”

In a blink of an eye, using her superior strength, Bela rotated him around, exposing his own buttocks. Before he could voice a word of protest, a hearty slap of terrifying power found its way towards his vulnerable rear, making the man cry out from shock at the vulgar gesture, as well as some pain. He would not be surprised if he had a red imprint of her palm on his ass now. “Ouch!”

“Consider this a mark. You’re mine now. Only mine.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad…”

A satisfied humm preceded several moments of silence. Peace and quiet was not on agenda tonight, however, as shortly, Bela forcefully rotated the man right back - to face her, once again. The staring contest that ensued was short-lived, as Bela’s attention-starved body craved yet more of his touch. A lot more. And it would not be denied tonight.

At his own subdued reaction - still processing Bela’s suddenly overwhelming possessiveness - her wide amber orbs sparkled with wicked delight - somewhat reminding Ethan of Cassandra, as she was about to torture him with a knife back in their castle. Not letting him ponder too much on that particular gruesome and mood-killing episode, Bela once again sensually licked her own lips, in a very sexy way, making his little man-thing once more fully erect and not so little anymore.

“Your blood is delightful, Ethan. But now I am curious about how your other...hmm… bodily fluids taste. Care to indulge my idle curiosity?”

Utterly baffled by the sheer seductiveness of this, previously almost unseen, lusty side of Bela, the man simply nodded his consent. Satisfied, the blonde Dimitrescu gave him another long and passionate kiss, before rotating her body in a heartbeat. At the display of cat-like agility, the man felt a pang of envy. Must be nice, being twice as strong as a man, while weighing less… oh…

The prime view of her majestic ass was enough to put any further pondering on the subject to a definitive stop. The sight of these rounded, delightfully pale buttocks of hers beckoned his hands, while the presence of her drenched lacy undergarments, mere inches from his face, threatened to drive Ethan into a lust-fueled frenzy of his own.

Feeling her wet tongue giving a playful lick to the head of his member emboldened the man, making him grab two handfuls of her supple, milky-white flesh. Bending his head forward, the man gave a probing lick of his own, getting his first taste of her juices.

Now, Ethan was not an exalted sex-guru, who had left hundreds of women ravaged in his wake. Yet he had tasted Mia, as well as his first uni sweetheart. Bela had a very distinct aroma, compared to them… which Ethan struggled to put an adjective to. Perhaps… moldy, with a bittersweet aftertaste? Yet it was not an unpleasant taste, and Ethan was already hungry for more. A playful, yet slightly painful bite to his manhood stopped his slavering tongue dead in its track.

“Good boys wait for their turn, Ethan. Good boys get rewarded… Are you a good boy?” 

Desperate for release, the man only grunted a weak “Yes!” out and, giving a satisfied humm, she finally started her work.

The feeling of her hot mouth, engulfing the tip and a good portion of the shaft as she sucked on it, was accompanied by the exquisite pleasure induced by her nimble fingers, playing with his balls, allowing the man to experience true bliss, after weeks of loneliness and neglect. 

Not feeling satisfied and edged on by his panting breath, Bela intensified her ministrations, sucking harder and harder, only to switch to lapping her hot tongue over his tip, just to go back to sucking; her agile fingers caressing his sacks with gusto, meanwhile.

Her gurgling, greedy moans filled the air as she was sucking him off - hard now. A particularly powerful sucking motion of her starved mouth, followed by a sensual yet forceful lick finally set the man over the peak, with his orgasm reaching its crescendo and generously ejecting his seed into her eager throat.

“AAH, God! Bela! That was fucking intense!”

The woman did not respond immediately, as she was too busy savoring his load, smacking it around her mouth gleefully for a few moments, before giving her verdict.

“Mhm… Not bad, actually! It's not as pronounced, but it does have that same distinct rich, yet moldy ‘Ethan’ taste - like your blood! We might need to do this more often…if you want to, of course.”

Ethan himself was done being proactive, however. It was time to reward Bela for all her hard work, all her sacrifices. All the comfort she provided, when he needed it most. More than a mere repayment, however, the man was desperate to show the depth of his love in this next act.

With his own pair of strong arms, the man rotated Bela to the side, eliciting a yelp of surprise. As if realizing what he had planned, the woman assisted his efforts, sitting firmly on top of his well-defined abdomen, her legs hugging his torso, and her amber orbs watching him in mischievous interest - genuinely curious to see his next move from that awkward position.

A hungry grin decorating his face, Ethan used his right hand to lift her left leg up, mirroring the gesture with his opposite limb, only to suspend them both together right over his head with just one hand; her limber and graceful body easily accommodating the tricky motion.

An index finger of his free hand hooked onto the last article of clothing either of them wore, slowly pulling it all the way across her long, milky legs - to Ethan’s eternal delight. Throwing the undergarment into the pile that was her nightgown, the man beheld his lover, who was now as naked as the day she was born. Or reborn, perhaps, in Bela’s case.

Bela, seeing where this was going, nibbled on her lower lip in clear anticipation; her own amber orbs hazy with lust for the long-suppressed desires that were seemingly finally within reach.

Ethan thought that he could stare at it all night, yet the sight of her glistening wet, freshly-shaved and youthful-looking pussy was too much and the famished man wasted not a second further in mounting her right on top of his head; the woman aiding his motions by repositioning her acrobatic legs until they were resting at his sides, holding most of her weight, even as her knees straddled his head.

At hearing her excited panting, Ethan couldn’t help but grin - seems like Bela was similar to Mia at least in one way. While the sight of her engorged and very eager womanhood and her natural musky aroma combined with the lingering smell of strawberry shower gel was nearly enough to drive Ethan into a feeding frenzy, the man held himself from immediately pouncing upon the glistering prize.

Instead, Ethan - somewhat well-versed in this particular act, started slowly, with the flat of his tongue sensually licking her right inner thigh, close to her core. Bela’s whole body shivered as she let out a low-pitched, guttural moan of pleasure. The man was quick to note that particular sensitive spot for later reference.

Taking some time to give attention to the other milky thigh as well, while his grasping fingers played roughly with her supple ass, Ethan finally decided to approach the main course. 

Teasingly slowly, taking his sweet time with every gentle lick, the man’s tongue worked its magic around her labia - applying the same amount of pressure he’d use to lightly lick ice cream that’s dripping down a cone. 

The teasing, feather-light touches drove Bela crazy and It was a struggle to keep her shuddering form in place, yet his firm hands - gripping her outer thighs tightly now - were up to the task.

Feeling the need to up his game, Ethan took a moment to spread her labia wide, allowing him access to her most intimate parts. His hot breath, directed at her exposed vagina, as well as clit, made the normally stoic woman pant heavily and Ethan could vividly picture her flushed face - just from her begging voice.

“Please…”

Not one to be told twice, Ethan was done with foreplay and his tongue assaulted her womanhood, with practiced efficiency. Working in a slow figure-eight motion, his daring tongue took several moments to explore all the sweet spots along her labia and clit. 

As her moans grew louder and her breathing harder yet, the man finished his performance by focusing his efforts exclusively around her clitoris, applying more pressure with every lap he made around the delicate nub. It was a real struggle to hold her violently shaking body in place, now.

Bela’s wild cry of ecstasy as she climaxed made the man afraid that even the soundproofed walls would not be enough to stop her sisters from coming to investigate the sudden noise.

Splattered in her freshly-split juices, the man drunk greedily upon every single precious drop his tongue could get a hold off, grinning all the while - as his efforts had obviously paid off, yet the grin soon morphed into an anxious frown, as something unexpected happened.

Bela’s whole form shimmered and shifted. Suddenly, where there was a woman that he tried so hard to properly please, was an uncountable number of buzzing insects - arranged into the painfully familiar feminine silhouette.

Ethan could only dumbly gape above as her body’s weight was suddenly gone from him; the solid flesh of her thighs turned into the skittering flies, all over his hands now. The grim visage of her ‘body’, composed exclusively of black winged insects but still towering over him was utterly mind numbing - terrifying, almost. The loud buzzing, coming from every direction, was overwhelming.

Nevertheless, recovering from shock swiftly, Ethan found his wit back, with a surprising realization. This sight, which by all accounts - to any normal, sane person - should’ve been both deeply distressing and utterly disgusting, evoked no truly negative feelings from him - only genuine surprise. Sanity is overrated, anyway.

Several moments later, when Bela finally reformed her human shape, the man simply smiled at the beautiful bug-woman, still straddling his head with her once-again milky legs, even as she started mumbling out a hasty but heartfelt apology.

“Oh, God, Ethan! I am so sorry! This was all...so much! I just… lost control of myself for a second…It won’t happen again.”

Even as she crawled off him, taking a spot to kneel before the bed, her face red in shame and guilt, the man had nothing but kind words of reassurance for her.

“It's fine, Bells. I am just going to take it as a compliment to my technique.”

The blonde Dimitrescu once again stared at him with disbelief plain in her wide amber orbs; her voice unsure, as she quietly muttered a query that made the man let out a small chuckle.

“You’re… not repulsed by me?”

The man did not hesitate in vacating the bed to join her on the floor, taking Bela into a loving embrace, as he started another series of short kisses on the back of her delightfully pale neck.

“Of course not! It was weird as hell, not gonna lie, but I’ve accepted you for what you are, remember? An occasional… lapse of control is not gonna be enough for you to get rid of me, Miss Dimitrescu.”

Bela snickered lightly, as she fully relaxed and leaned back into his embrace.

“I am really starting to question Mia’s intellectual capacities… for letting a man like you go, Mister Winters.”

The man couldn’t help a frown from marring his previously joyous features. The guilt, the shame, the regret - they were still there, despite everything. This whole experience muffled them, true, but he was not rid of them completely. In an attempt to change the painful subject, Ethan recalled their previous conversation with Cassandra, at that bar - the one about a proper use of a man-tongue. 

“Are you feeling relaxed now, Bells? Cassandra got what she wanted, in the end, didn't she?”

“I am feeling very relaxed now, Ethan. Thank you… It was... amazing.” Suddenly, the blonde woman in his arms erupted into a howling laughter, surprising the man, before continuing.

“And Cassandra always gets what she wants… You’d be surprised at how much of a brat she can be, sometimes.” Bela proceeded in a mocking tone: “Mom! Bela drank all my personal blood reserves!

Huffing in indignation, the elder Dimitrescu sibling continued in a normal, if a bit annoyed voice. “And then I get to clean fucking dungeons for a month! A fucking month, Ethan! Mother was always so damn strict about respecting others personal property… And Cass made such a mess there for me… specifically to annoy me, I believe. Ugh! Younger sisters are such a pain!”

Ethan chuckled heartily, before returning his lips to that delightful pale skin. He was actually curious about the aforementioned incident, but the man decided to save the questions on it for later. Uninterrupted, Bela finished her thought, in a gentle, loving tone.

“Yet I would not trade them for anything.”

A couple of moments of solemn and understanding silence passed, as the lovers were content in that awkward position of theirs. It was broken by a dreamy sigh, coming from Bela.

“Perhaps I even owe Cassandra a debt of gratitude, come to think of it…”

Not actually letting the man think on it, the blonde Dimitrescu broke their embrace, only to rotate around and lift them both up, even as her insatiable mouth was once again all over his own. Despite both of them reaching an orgasm twice now, they were eager for more. Bela and Ethan craved more. But Ethan was done with being on the bottom. His own inner beast demanded for him to assert dominance and this time he was happy to do so.

With an almost feral growl of lust, Ethan pushed Bela back onto the bed, before leaping on top of her, only to continue their frenzied make out session. With no small amount of satisfaction, the man noted her amber orbs widening in surprise at his sudden ferocity. Yet if she minded being on the bottom now, she gave no indication of it.

Breaking their kiss to admire his lover one more time, the man prepared to go all in. Nibbling on her lower lip in silent impatience, Bela stared back at him, with her wide expressive eyes showering him in affection - which he returned in kind. He had no doubt about the authenticity of his love for this woman now.

“Are you ready, Bells?”

Her tongue tied from anticipation, the woman only gave him a shaky nod. Ethan smiled as his member was poised to enter her waiting folds, dripping wet in their excitement for him. After ceaseless physical and mental struggles, his mind finally felt completely unburdened, if only for this night.

This was more than a mere culmination of their sexual intercourse tonight. This act of lovemaking would certify their desire to leave the past and move forward into the future - together.

Giving his lover a warm smile, Ethan initiated the motion to penetrate her, and that was the moment the uncaring universe decided to show him the middle finger - again.

 

BANG

 

A shockwave of tremendous power resonated across their modest cabin, rearranging decorations in the most forceful manner possible. As items of all shapes and sizes were sent flying all over the room - so was Ethan; his head impacting an expensive mahogany drawer, drawing blood.


Bela’s piercing shriek of distress, as well as the whole fucking ship creaking and screeching underneath him were the last sounds he had heard, before the unconsciousness claimed him.

Notes:

So this was my first attempt at a smutty writing ever - hope it wasn't too awkward. I admit, I originally never intended to write any explicit sexual scenes in this story, but some readers convinced me to give it a try, so tell me if this was okay or not. Regardless, gonna bump this story's rating up to explicit (since even without sex, I do have a lot of violence in that area, anyway)

As always, I'd love to hear any feedback, positive or otherwise! Critique is great, since we cannot really improve without acknowledging out mistakes. And your comments are always brightening my day, dear readers! Have an amazing week!

Chapter 30: Retaliation

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Darkness claimed his vision and his head pounded like someone had opened a god-damn smithy in it.

Ethan clenched every ounce of willpower he had left in his mental fist, doing his best to fight through the haze that threatened to claim him. Hissing in pain, the man managed to lift his exhausted eyelids, only to beheld an angel.

Bela’s beautiful face hovered over him, her features tense in worry, as her mouth worked furiously to spew out words he could not hear, thanks to the overwhelming ringing in his ears.

Even though he could stare all day at her breathtaking visage, something was obviously terribly wrong and a single, sudden thought allowed the father to completely push through the daze that had enveloped his mind and return to the land of the living.

Rose!

With the strength he did not know he possessed, the man forced his bruised body back to his feet, grunting with effort, as he did so. His Bela, still completely naked - as was he - was quick to offer a shoulder to lean against.

Accepting the help, Ethan attempted to speak out the name of his beloved daughter, though the cursed ringing prevented him from immediately knowing if he was successful in his efforts.

Bela’s already tense visage narrowed further in focus as she gave a curt nod, her keen eyes inspecting his frame meanwhile - searching for damage. Likely understanding that the man was suffering a concussion, her lips moved slowly in a deliberate pattern so Ethan could discern it even in his dazed state. Can you stand on your own?

Giving a shaky nod, the man struggled to stay upright as her supporting hands left his frame. Bela did not waste a second in putting her nightgown back, using her swarm form to accelerate the process by simply fluttering into it and reforming already dressed. The blonde woman did not forget to arm herself with her trusty sickle either, which she always kept close by. Ethan took the moment to put his own white bathrobe back on while making sure the keys to his cabin were inside of it.

Seeing Bela armed and dangerous, Ethan himself felt a certain longing for a comforting weight of his own pistol - naturally, he did not consider bringing it to this late night rendezvous with Bela. As if reading his mind, he was suddenly offered a .357 Desert Eagle sidearm, courtesy of his blonde hostess. A trophy from her first brush with The Connections, no doubt. Accepting the weapon with a grateful smile, Ethan did not hesitate to step out of her cabin, hoping to swiftly return to his own - with Bela following close by.

Outside the comfy room, Ethan was greeted by a menacing red glow of the emergency lighting that now illuminated the hallway. Finally, the annoying ringing in her ears started to subside - only to be replaced by blaring klaxons.

What the hell is going on… are we really under attack?

Whole ship felt unsteady at his feet, with metal creaking grating painfully against his sore eardrums. The yacht suddenly shuddered violently, forcing Ethan to lean against a hallway’s wall for support. Before the man could regain his bearing. the door to his right slammed open, revealing an angry visage of Cassandra, her features sleepy and unkempt.

Sparing Ethan only a passing glance, the vicious brunette sibling rushed towards her elder sister; both of them starting to gesticulate wildly, as they attempted to be heard over the deafening klaxons. After a moment, Bela moved towards Daniela’s room, while Cassandra went to check on Alcina.

Not wasting any more time himself, the father rushed back to his own cabin - some distance away, at the other side of the living quarters area. On his way out, he had to navigate through increasing numbers of panicking crew-members - most of them only in simple nightgowns or just boxers, as well.

As he finally arrived at his assigned quarters, the man fumbled with the keys he produced from his robe’s pocket, before getting the door unlocked - his hands unsteady from both the head injury sustained, as well as the overall scene of mayhem around him; Ethan’s feeling of vertigo was growing worse, to the point where he felt like vomiting.

The moment the door swung open, Ethan was greeted by a pair of tiny, soft blue eyes. The sight of his poor three-year old daughter, with clear fright in her expressive orbs, standing barefoot as she clutched the plushie dragon tightly to her chest, was enough for the man to go back to his previous, miserable thoughts.

Nevertheless, Ethan did not hesitate in taking his precious child into a protective embrace, even as he cursed himself for his failure as a father - for putting Rose into such a precarious position. His hands rubbed gentle circles over her tiny back, as his calming words attempted to soothe the distraught daughter.

“I am here, Rosie… everything’s alright…”

“What is happening, daddy?” Rosemary’s meek voice reflected her outward fright perfectly.

Good question, but fuck if I know… Gritting his teeth in agonizing helplessness, the man settled on honesty, as his young daughter was already keen enough to see through any empty platitudes he could concoct on such a short notice. 

“I don’t know, honey… but we will get through it together…”

As if to test his words, the ship creaked and groaned - the metal of the superstructure clearly being subject to an immense strain, producing that horrible, ear-splitting noise. The whole yacht shuddered in a violent and prolonged motion, making the tiny child sniff and sob, as the angle of their footing changed - just slightly - but enough to make the man himself panic, from this most unusual of vertigo.

We need to get out of here!

Almost on cue - the loudspeakers in the hallway roared to life, letting the amplified voice of Millie break through the klaxons.

“This is not a drill! Nouă Speranță has sustained critical damage to its superstructure, and I can not guarantee its ability to stay afloat… or whole beyond the ten minute mark! Everyone aboard is to proceed to the designated evacuation areas, immediately - in an orderly manner! Do not give in to panic and help those who cannot help themselves!”

Clearly, Millie struggled to contain panic herself, if her shaky voice was any indication. Nevertheless, with a clear plan and a stated timetable, Ethan felt a degree of reassurance.

“Get dressed quickly, love - we are leaving, just like the kind lady said!” The Winters proceeded to dress in record time, with Ethan staffing his backpack with their most valuable possessions, as they did so.

Two minutes later, the small family emerged from their cabin, only for Ethan to direct them towards the lower deck - where the crewmembers were rushing towards. Before they could make much progress towards that direction, a strong hand on the father’s shoulder stopped him dead in his tracks.

“Not this way, Ethan. You’re coming with us.”

Dion Wilson’s friendly face and firm words was a welcome change among the chaos of this situation and Ethan obeyed the red headed man with just one word of protest. “Bela?”

“Don’t worry, Don Juan - Emily is getting the Dimitrescus. We are all taking the highway out of here.”

 

The trio quickly made their way upwards, towards the helipad at the edge of the ship, where the Dragonfly Hovercraft was waiting, as well as some company - the Hound Wolf Squad, and the Duke’s lieutenant.

Chris was locked in a heated debate with Tom, with John and Rolando behind them. Charlie was apparently hard at work in the pilot’s seat of the aircraft, his fingers furiously pressing upon the buttons unseen from Ethan’s angle.

“The hell do you mean, Duke is staying behind!?” Chris was clearly livid, while Tom remained calm, yet it was clear that behind the stoic facade, the tall man was teetering on the edge himself.

“The Duke is not going to leave his people behind as he flies to safety on some aircraft, Chris. We will evacuate by boat, with the rest of the crew. We aren’t that far from the Spanish shores, and our contacts there are already notified of our predicament.”

Chris grit his teeth in frustration, but conceded the point with a nod. The two men exchanged a brief but respectful handshake; Tom, noticing the Winters family, briskly walked towards them - a forced smile on his face, even as his green eyes betrayed the depth of his sorrow. The yacht meant more than a mere ship to the man. It was a symbol of perseverance and renewal… and now it was going down, and he could do nothing about it.

Kneeling before the tiny girl, the man’s voice was as gentle as ever.

“Well, it seems our adventure together comes to an end, Rosie, as unfortunate as it is…” The girl sniffed as she hugged the tall man, Tom returned the gesture with genuine affection. “There, there… I am sure we will see each other again, but for now, you’ll have to stay strong for daddy, alright?”

“Alright, I will, Uncle Tom… but… stay safe, please?” Tom simply chuckled, as he patted the girl’s blonde hair, before nodding and standing up, to exchange a heartfelt handshake with Ethan, next.

“I truly hope that we get to cross paths again, Ethan, but if not, I want you to know that it was an honor for me to get to know you and your beautiful girl. You’re a good man.”

Ethan smiled, as he returned the sentiment. “Likewise, Tom. I wish you and yours the best in the days to come, and let us knock down a couple of beers after all this mess is done with and forgotten, yeah?”

“I’d like that! Godspeed.”

With the final smile, the tall man that was the first person to join Ethan and Rose on this newest insane adventure of theirs, took his leave, eager to return to his own people who likely needed him during this calamitous time. On his way down, he was intercepted by Emily, with the whole Dimitrescu family in tow. Ethan didn’t miss the fond, almost longing glance Tom directed Daniela’s way, before vanishing inside the dying ship’s bowels.

The Dimitrescu family members themselves only had their nightgowns, as well as some warm slippers and cloaks to protect their vulnerable bodies from nightly chill. What few possessions they had were securely stored inside the backpacks the girls had over their shoulders.

“Brrrr… soooo cold!” 

Wild-eyed and shivering, Daniela looked around in panic, still not fully comprehending what exactly had occurred to force her out of her comfy and warm bed, in the middle of the night. Seeing the redhead’s distress, Alcina was quick to share what little body heat she had with her precious daughter, taking her in tender embrace.

In dying agony of its own, the ship creaked loudly again, while angling upwards - causing both Daniela and Rosie to yelp in fright.

“Get inside the aircraft, girls… I think the Duke’s yacht is bound for the depths, soon!” Bela was quick to nudge her family inside the Dragonfly's open side door. 

Chris nodded at that, before ushering everyone else in. “She’s right. Get inside and strap yourselves in. We’ll have to finish our trip to the safehouse by air.”

Getting inside the aircraft, Ethan made sure to strap Rosie tightly to her seat, before taking his own. Out of nowhere, Eveline suddenly appeared, suppressing a yawn; her sleepy expression quickly changing to bewilderment as she took in the situation.

“Mhm… I had such a nice dream… What is going on? Did I miss something? Yikes...”

Before Ethan could respond, Cassandra's loud voice resonated across the small aircraft’s hold.

“So, what the hell is going on? I was hoping some pirates attacked us or something… I’d love to butcher some of them and loot their stuff! I bet I’d look good in a pirate hat, yarr!”

Both Daniela and Rose could not suppress a small, nervous giggle at her impression, as well as an overall carefree attitude. It was clear the brunette Dimitrescu was not bothered in the slightest about the tremendous loss the Duke was about to suffer. Chris - less amused - was the one to answer her fair inquiry, however.

“Several explosives were detonated across the spine of the ship - simultaneously. I see no other possible explanation, other than intentional sabotage. Thankfully - no casualties, so far.” The large captain adopted a pensive look, as he strapped himself in, before continuing. “The culprit, however - could be anyone… an infiltrator? Or a traitor..?”

The last word sent a shiver of fright through Ethan’s own spine. He had never even considered the possibility that one among them could be working for the enemy, all along. Glancing around, the father briefly considered, who could that person even be?

Surely nobody from the present company? I am not even considering Dimitrescus, and Chris' own people are all hand-picked… whoever the traitor is, he must’ve remained on the yacht.

Rolando Elba, the last person in, slammed the door shut behind himself, before taking his own seat and strapping in. Seeing the whole team assembled and seated, Chris banged on the door to the cockpit with his fist - giving the sign to lift off.

The aircraft started exuding a low humming noise -  fully powering up. A mere moment later, the passengers were shaken in their seats as the vehicle rapidly gained elevation, even as it rotated around. Edging his face to the nearby illuminator, Ethan took a moment to appreciate the fine ship they were leaving behind.

The once majestic yacht, proudly displaying Nouă Speranță on its hull, was now barely staying afloat. The vessel was visibly trimming, with its bow rising above the waterline and the stern already mostly sunk. The Mediterranean Sea would not have to wait long to claim its prize, it seemed. 

Many smaller boats were already breaking off from the larger vessel, drifting towards the distant Spanish shores. At least the crew made it.

Ethan still couldn’t help but feel a pang of sorrow at the sight. Even though he’d spent less than two weeks in total on the grand ship, the memories he’d made there were truly timeless.

 

The creepy birthday party he’d attended, only for it to shift into a wholesome, carefree event.

 

The unbelievably weird group hug they all shared in the hospital, that, nevertheless evoked nothing but warmth in his chest.

 

The shocking resurgence of Eveline and how he felt threatened by her - initially; only for that feeling to morph into one of almost parental affection for the ghostly girl, who was now whispering sweet nothings to his own child, in a sweeter yet attempt to soothe her. Ethan couldn’t help but glow in pride at both of his little girls. They’ve all come so far...

 

The brutal spar with Cassandra, that almost left him crippled, yet allowed them both to grow as people. Glancing at the brunette Dimitrescu, Ethan caught her gaze, as she gave him a self-satisfied smirk - a gesture he returned. Despite her callous and cruel nature, the woman was a comrade-in-arms, and Ethan felt like he had yet to truly learn the depths of her own being. He only hoped that she didn’t leave his sketchbook behind...

 

The touching moments with Daniela, that truly blurred the lines between monsters and humans. That short encounter in her room, the various games they played to kill time, the way she went out of her way to comfort Rose. A bit more calmed now, the redhead was giving Rosie and her plushie dragon a warm, fond glance, her full lips smiling gently upon the tiny child. Like a little sister Ethan never had...

 

Finally, Ethan couldn’t help but smile dreamily at all the beautiful memories he had made with a certain blonde woman, in particular. 

Their reunion, where he had been so starstruck by her ethereal beauty. 

Their semi-drunken rendezvous in the bar - a perfectly awkward mix of comfort and lust.

The unforgettable stargazing, which ended with them asleep in each other's arms - in perfect contentment.

Momentarily taking him out of his musings, the Dragonfly hovercraft lurched forward, with impressive speed, finally leaving the Duke’s yacht behind. But the memories of the days aboard would remain with him to his dying breath.

Enjoying the silence and glancing at Bela, Ethan felt heat creeping to his cheeks at the recollection of the latest memory - still quite raw, as it was made a mere hour ago.

 

The passionate lovemaking they were in the process of, when this calamity struck.

 

Ever the predator, sensing his discomfort, Cassandra pounced on her tonight’s prey, finally breaking the silence.

“And what exactly were you up to with my big sister at 4 AM, anyway, Ethan ?”

Suddenly, every single pair of eyes were on him, making the father blush an even deeper shade of red. Alcina glared at him with particular loathing, making the man truly glad that she was ‘declawed’ in this moment. Opposing her, Daniela had a pouty look of extreme disappointment, as if she’d slept through her favorite show.

“I… ugh...we…”

Alcina became red in the face herself at Ethan’s pathetic mumbling - the indignity of having a man-thing tainting her beloved daughter proving too much for the Dimitrescu matriarch.

“We weren’t up to anything, dearest sister!” Bela was quick to note the growing discomfort Ethan and her mother experienced, and therefore leapt to the man’s defense...in a peculiar, teasing way. “Why, we merely discussed the merits and shortcomings of various programming languages Ethan practiced during his career. I suppose we’ve lost track of time… it was just that... intriguing .“ Bela took a pause to sensually lick her lips. ”We will really have to continue our session later, won’t we, Ethan? We’d stopped on Python ...a most curious subject, if I dare say so myself.”

Ethan’s plight was only amplified by Bela’s obvious innuendoes, but Alcina - who had no interest whatsoever in modern technology, unlike her cherished daughter - simply shrugged her shoulders; whether in resignation or acceptance was anyone’s guess. Surprisingly, Bela’s sly looks thrown his way returned the father a measure of confidence.

“You can count on that, Bells. Why, I still have quite a bit to teach you about that particular language.”

It was the elder Dimitrescu sibling’s turn to blush, as her beautiful round cheeks were tinted with that adorable shade of pink.

“Damn, Ethan, didn’t realize you were such a Python guru! Maybe we should trade tips later?”

Dion’s own mirthful and teasing voice preceded a start of carefree conversation that included every passenger on board the ship, with even Lady Dimitrescu and Captain Redfield joining in, eventually.

Even though neither Cassandra, nor Chris spoke a word to each other, Ethan did not miss the occasional glances one would shoot the other when he or she was not looking their way, making the father himself smirk.

Despite the horrible blow the gang just suffered through, the rest of their flight towards the B.S.A.A. safehouse proceeded in comfortable and cheerful banter. 

***

 

From a large motorboat, The Duke watched the uncaring Mediterranean Sea claiming his cherished yacht with a whirlwind of emotions threatening to break the stoic expression of his cherub-like face.

All the precious artworks, priceless artifacts and valuable possessions… bound for cold, dark depths. More than that, the grand ship itself was the pinnacle of his achievements and lifelong goals -  commissioned to celebrate the beginning of a new age. And now it was all gone. 

All gone, simply because he made a mistake by growing complacent, firm in his foolish belief that he could forever stay two steps ahead of his competition.

A single manly tear fell down his full cheek, as the majestic ship finally vanished beneath the waves. A soft, dainty hand on his vast shoulder brought only a measure of comfort at this most trying of hours.

“I’ve already summoned the diver teams… they will recover what they can…”

Millicent. Ever loyal and resourceful.

“I’ve gone through the reports and headcounts from our chiefs… no casualties, thank God, though a number of wounded… some need immediate medical attention. One MiA.”

Thomas. Always compassionate and thoughtful.

“Farewell, my beautiful Nouă Speranță… Even though you’re gone, your legacy will endure, as long as we - the survivors - remain.” The Duke’s own parting words allowed somber silence to settle in, before their own motorboat’s engine roared to life, in a bid to rejoin the rest of their tiny fleet - now bound for the Spanish shores.

Before long, Millie could not suppress a rhetorical query of her own, however.

“How could this have happened…?”

Nobody answered, for the answer was obvious - a traitor in their midst. The small woman continued, undaunted by lack of response.

“We knew every single one of these people, all of them were slighted by The Connections or their ilk in the past. There was basically no outside contact for any of them after their inductions… yet someone blew our fucking ship up…could be an infiltrator, instead, I suppose?”

“Unlikely” Tom immediately responded, raising an eyebrow from Millie. “The explosions were placed at strategic locations along the spine of the ship, in out-of-reach spaces, normally reserved for specialized crew-member work. Moreover, The armory master noted that the explosives used were most likely home-made, as indicated by their profile - not that powerful, with uneven distribution of blast energy. The automatic pump system we had should’ve handled the amount of water we were getting.”

Should’ve? ” Millie was paying him her full attention, as the man continued, with a thoughtful look on his plain face.

“Indeed. It never activated, indicating either a gross incompetence of the system’s maintenance team or sabotage. The latter - a far more likely scenario - would imply that our culprit was intimately familiar with the ship’s layout and specifics - knowing exactly what kind of damage would be sufficient to permanently cripple it.”

Puffing on a freshly lit cigar, the Duke was the one to ponder on the subject aloud next.

“So, our little culprit had both the motivation to hurt us, as well as the required know-how and the full knowledge of the ship’s layout…I don’t think I can name a single possible candidate, from these given parameters... A true mystery, I’d say!” the Duke paused to take a deep huff of his cigar. “Anything peculiar about the headcount?”

Tom thought about that for a moment, before offering an answer. “Everyone but one is accounted for. Stewardess Second Class Anna Smirnova is Missing in Action. But that’s nothing too surprising, with how violent the explosions were. It is very likely that the poor girl was simply performing her night shift in an isolated portion of the ship and struck her head, or something… With how rushed the evacuation has been… she might have simply been left behind."

Millie was quick to offer her two cents. “Little Anya, I know her well - I am the one who recruited her, after all… such a shame, too… Poor girl lost her lover Andrei during the ambush, and now her own life, as well…” At the unspoken question from the Duke’s gaze, the small woman continued the unpleasant thought.

“She is a simple village girl, who barely spoke English and always attended her duties diligently. I can’t even fathom her as the one being responsible for this fucking mess.”

Nodding, the Duke sighed, as the mystery of this calamity was growing even darker. With resignation, the huge man changed the subject.

“Well, I suppose we will just have to keep our eyes open wide, from now on. Regardless, I have a new job for you, Millicent.”

The metal gray eyes of the woman narrowed at that. “Oh? I thought we were determined to support our ‘friends’ till the end in our fight against The Connections?”

“We are, but with the destruction of Nouă Speranță, I am afraid I have no choice but to call on old favors to keep the playing board even. Myself and Tom will have to suffice in providing aid for our dear Dimitrescu and Winters, meanwhile.”

“Alright. Go on…” 

“You will have to pay your father a visit, Millie.”

Both Tom and Millie were momentarily stunned by that simple statement, spoken by the Duke in a completely neutral tone. The dark-haired woman opened and closed her mouth several times, before finally proceeding with the conversation.

“My father..? Nobody knows where he is!”

“Oh, he owns a scrapyard, as well as a quaint little crocodile farm in Australia, I believe.” The Duke was the very picture of calmness, as he admired the raising sea waves, while smoking his cigar. His right-hand woman was, however, remarkably less calm and composed with her own response.

“What… You’re saying that you knew where he was all this time!? And you never deigned to inform me!? He is my fucking father! What the fuck!”

Unbothered by her display of vulgarity, the rotund merchant continued, though his tone shifted to a slightly apologetic one, as he did so.

“I am truly sorry for that, Millicent, but first and foremost he is my client. And his wish and right to privacy is a prerogative I am not willing to overlook - not for anyone. You should know how it is, by now. That said… now we have little choice but to involve him in this fine mess of ours, if we are hoping for a satisfactory conclusion, that is.”

As the small woman still seethed in rage - too furious to even produce a verbal response, her small fists clenching in impotent anger - the Duke offered an additional, comforting word. “You have the right to be displeased with me for this deceit, Millicent, but I want you to know that I never intended for you two to be separated forever… As a matter of fact, I planned to host a surprise reunion for you, once our common foe was vanquished and it was safe enough to do so… but plans changed, obviously.”

Hearing the genuine note of regret in the Duke’s voice, Millie relaxed her tense posture, yet her metal-gray eyes were still burning holes in the larger man’s back. One thing she could not stand was being held in the dark, especially with something personal like that. Attempting to diffuse the situation further, Tom was the one to offer his neutral perspective.

“Australia, huh? Makes sense, The Connections have almost no hold there. A good hiding spot. If one can tolerate all the marauding gangs that roam deeper inland, that is.”

The Duke nodded, before concluding his speech with a request - the one he knew Millie would not be able to refuse.

“Indeed. Our good friend came into possession of some land near the nice town of Alice Springs. I’d like you to chart a plane right away, Millie.”

The dark-haired woman scoffed in annoyance, but complied, as she made the call to the independent aircraft’s captain that was on their payroll. She couldn’t help but hiss out a biting remark, before she did so.

“What even makes you think he’ll want to help you, anyway? He doesn’t know me, so he wouldn’t give a fuck about anything I’ll say. You’re dangling something over his head, as well?”

The Duke let out a mirthful chuckle at that. “Nothing of the sort! True, there are not many people in the world whose fates concern him...but I do believe the old devil has a soft spot in his metal heart for his dear sister… as well as his three beloved nieces.”

Millie could not help but feel a wave of bitterness from rising to her throat. Once again, the shadow that was Dimitrescu loomed high above her, making her feel small and insignificant. Just like she was, twenty years ago - a worthless dirty orphan, with no family or friends, wanted by no one, not until the Duke came into the picture.

But now it seemed that even the large merchant was only interested in using her, just like everything and everybody else.

Tom’s gentle hand over her shoulder was the only thing that prevented the short woman from breaking into uncontrollable tears of grief. Giving the tall man that was as close to a brother to her as was possible a small smile, Millie settled on her course. Wiping a few stray tears from her face, the woman had no more questions, and their boat settled into a loaded silence.

 

The perilous wasteland that was inland Australia awaited her.

Notes:

Sorry for a modest word count this time, especially considering the delay, but I just felt like the chapter would flow the best, this way.

Chapter 31: Contact

Notes:

The third part of this chapter will contain an explicit depiction of a sexual intercourse.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

While the flight itself towards the safehouse was uneventful, its conclusion was marked by a peculiar discovery. 

 

As everyone else disembarked the aircraft that was now perched on top of the safehouse’s roof’s tiny helipad, Dion remained inside, to inspect the vehicle’s after-flight condition. 

The Dimitrescu women - eager for warmth after the chilly aircraft’s interior - quickly went down the stairs leading inside the large house to settle in; Bela’s parting, very seductive glance, casually thrown Ethan’s way, made the man eagerly anticipate his next one-on-one encounter with the blonde sibling. 

The rest of the Hound Wolves followed the noblewomen inside, in a hurry to activate various pieces of equipment the safehouse was stocked with. The team’s professionalism was quite inspiring and reassuring to Ethan.

Chris, Ethan and Rosie decided to stick around for a couple of minutes, to simply marvel at the majestic sight that was now open to them.

The B.S.A.A. safehouse was a rather large villa, situated on the outskirts of Nice - on a small hill that allowed the occupants to behold the whole coastal city in all its breath-taking morning glory. The gentle sun was just rising over the horizon, giving the trio a grand vista.

As Chris lit up a cigarette - with a small apology to Rosie, the two Winters simply held one another close and enjoyed the exquisite view. 

The tranquility was ruined by a high-pitched feminine shriek coming from the aircraft. 

Like a well-oiled war-machine, Chris had his heavily-customized sidearm out and primed, in a blink of an eye. 

Several moments later, two people had emerged from the grounded aircraft. The flushed figure of Dion Wilson was unmistakable, yet the second person was an unknown one to Ethan, though familiar - a petite, young, black-haired woman with dull green eyes and freckled face. Was the woman the one who screeched? It seemed plausible, yet Dion’s red face implied otherwise...

Ethan’s gaze took her whole shape in - from her dirtied and oil-stained steward’s uniform, to her sheepish expression. Even though the father could not recall exactly who this eerily familiar person was, clearly she came from the yacht. All-in-all, she was rather pretty, and Ethan would’ve not hesitated to offer her a compliment, were he not a married person/utterly enamored by a certain Dimitrescu daughter. Dismissing the peculiar thought, the blonde man focused his brown-gray eyes on Chris Redfield, instead.

“What is the meaning of this?” The captain was not pleased by this sudden discovery. Dion was quick to explain, however.

“Seems like she managed to sneak aboard the hovercraft during the chaos - taking refuge inside the storage compartment before we even boarded it ourselves. Explain yourself, Miss…?”

Cutely fumbling with her feet, the short woman gave them all puppy eyes, before doing as told - in a heavily accented English, betraying her Russian descent.

“Anya... Anna Smirnova… please forgive me! I never meant to be a stowaway, but I was working on the upper deck when the explosions started and I got so scared… I knew that I would be the safest aboard your vessel… so I hid in it… I am sorry for not revealing myself sooner… I was afraid you’d throw me out!”

Ethan was suddenly aware of Eveline’s presence, right next to him. The ghostly girl’s own light green eyes were burning holes in the freckled woman - Evie was staring at her unerringly, unblinking - Ethan never saw her look that way at anyone before.

Chris himself was glaring at Anna with thinly-veiled suspicion, which was only exacerbated as the small woman suddenly adopted an expression of extreme pain - clutching her head with one hand, as she snarled viciously. 

At that display, Ethan could finally recall who exactly this person was - that stewardess who dropped a tray during their last evening’s meal. Was she suffering from a condition of some kind?

Recovering from her seizure and seeing the mistrust on their faces, the freckled girl made a cute curtsy, before explaining herself in a sheepish tone. 

“Forgive me… I’ve been suffering from epilepsy since I was a little girl… and the fits got much harder to endure after my…” Anna clearly struggled to pronounce the name, with tears starting to glisten in her green eyes. “My… Andrei has passed away…”

Seeing Anna’s apparent distress, Dion glared at his captain harshly, before taking the smaller woman in a short but tender embrace, cooing at her gently, meanwhile. Ethan himself felt bad about being suspicious of the pitiable woman.

“It’s alright, Anna. Forgive Captain Redfield, he is a bit suspicious by nature - but he means well! I do apologize for the cold shoulder we’ve given you; it's perfectly understandable that you would seek shelter in our aircraft. Let’s go find you some clean clothes, shall we?”

The girl glanced at the redheaded soldier with appreciation, before giving him a charming smile and a nod. At the display of affection, the young soldier blushed slightly and broke eye contact.

“Thank you so much, sir… I don’t deserve such consideration...I was just a servant aboard the ship.”

The man shook his head. “Name’s Dion. And don’t speak such nonsense. Everyone deserves being treated with simple human kindness.”

Hearing that, Chris’ own hard visage softened considerably, as if shamed. The captain proceeded to give a nod, welcoming the small woman inside their safehouse. “Alright, Anna. You can stay with us, until we reconvene with the Duke.” Anna responded with an overly polite curtsy, clearly intimidated by the large man.

“Thank you, sir… I’ll do my best to not get in your way… I know you’re doing important work here… if there is anything I can to help…”

“Just rest for now, Miss Smirnova.”

Giving another polite curtsy, the Duke’s servant retreated into the villa’s interior, with Dion hovering over her like a mother hen. Eveline’s eyes followed her even after her whole frame vanished down the stairs.

With just the three (four?) of them left on the rooftop, Chris returned to his passive gazing, lighting up another cigarette in the process. Ethan couldn’t help but inquire about the reason for his ghostly daughter’s unwavering gaze.

“Something wrong, Evie?”

It’s like she was in a trance, as her eyes apparently still tracked their newest acquaintance, even though she was long gone. It took her a moment to respond.

“I...am not sure… but something feels off about her. Strange . I...ugh… nevermind! I must be just tired, or something...need to sleep more...silly daddy, having a boat he was under blown up in the middle of the night! Hmph!”

Just like that, scoffing and folding her arms, the ghostly girl faded from sight. Hearing the start of the unseen exchange, Chris glanced at him with curiosity, but refrained from commenting, as Ethan’s face betrayed the man’s own confusion.

“Evie doesn’t like Anna… But she is so pretty…” Rosie meekly mumbled, even as her own tiny brows furrowed in conflicted emotions.

Chris simply shrugged his shoulders, as he returned to his smoke. He wasn’t about to go and interrogate a terrified and distressed woman who had just lost everything, based on some ghost’s uncertain hunches.

“Go get comfortable, Ethan. The contact won’t be arriving until midday; this villa is all ours for now.”

“Are we really safe here, though?” A silly question, as Ethan trusted Chris explicitly by this point, yet a vocal confirmation from the captain himself was still something he wouldn’t mind hearing.

“Should be. I still have a couple of trusted contacts high among the B.S.A.A. - people I know well. Even though much of the leadership is rotten, most of the grunts and middle-managers still believe in fighting the good fight, you know.”

Reassured, the father nodded as he clutched Rosie’s tiny hand. “Alright, let's go settle in, honey.” The girl puffed her cheeks cutely, before voicing her latest unfulfilled desire.

“I wanna play with Daniela…”

The father just chuckled and ruffled the girl’s blonde locks, before taking the stairway down the villa’s interior. 

Inside the vast, sparsely but tastefully decorated living room the two Winters’ beheld quite a commotion. 

The Dimitrescu girls were rummaging through their backpacks, making sure their meager possessions were all accounted for. Their matriarch was simply gazing out the window - which offered almost the same majestic view as the rooftop did.

On one sofa, Rolando and Emily were fidgeting with a mechanical device of some kind, the rest of Hound Wolves being already occupied elsewhere, apparently.

With no adrenaline after their flight from the yacht left in his systems, Ethan himself was quite tired, and therefore simply plopped on one of the sofas, closing his exhausted eyelids for just a moment. The man felt his body melting into the soft texture of the furniture.

A tugging on the sleeve of his shirt, followed by a pleading voice made the father smile, without opening his eyes. “Can I go play with Dani, daddy?”

“Sure thing, honey.”

“Yay!”

Stomping of small feet on the carpet was followed by a delighted giggle from the redheaded Dimitrescu, as Rosie, presumably, hugged her leg.

“Heeey, Rosie! I see that my good friend Richard the Wyrm is in good hands with you!”

“Yes, Dani! Thank you so much for letting me play with him!”

The girlish giggling and easy banter that followed made Ethan’s relax further into the soft sofa. He just knew that Daniela would never hurt his precious daughter. A gentle hand, playing with his dirty blonde hair made the tired man let out a small moan of pleasure.

“Tired, sleepyhead?”

Bela’s melodic voice almost made the father want to open his eyes once again, simply to witness her ethereal visage. Instead, he just hummed in confirmation, before offering a comment of his own.

“Mhm… our ‘discussion’ about programming languages was quite tiring, truth to be told… I’d love to continue it, though.”

“Oh, we will. Wouldn’t trade it for the world. But I think we should all take this opportunity and rest for a bit, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Mhm…”

Bela’s delicate fingers continued their gentle ministration of his hair, massaging the scalp tenderly, evoking another pleased humm from the man. 

After the restless night, the comfort of this relaxed moment proved too much and before too long, Ethan was fast asleep.

 

***

 

With a hearty yawn, Ethan opened his eyelids, that no longer felt quite as heavy as before. Invigorated, the man glanced around himself. The soft morning sun was changed by a softer yet late afternoon one… he must’ve slacked off for quite a bit.

Rolando was sitting on a chair, next to a small table with a monitor and some equipment on it. The lieutenant had a large headset and was apparently completely engrossed in his work.

Whatever Rolando was up to, however, was of little concern to Ethan, as his attention was wholly upon the sofa opposite to him, or more precisely - its occupants.

The three Dimitrescu siblings, in naught but white bathrobes as they worked on each other's nails, while half-heartedly watching some soap opera that was quietly playing on a nearby TV set. The girls were talking in slightly muffled tones - Ethan had to struggle to make out the words.

“And then what happened?” Daniela had a curious glint in her wide eyes, as she asked the question.

“Apparently, he punched a boulder that was several times his size - turning it into a makeshift bridge.” Cassandra spoke, matter-of-factly.

Bela’s eyes lit up. “Punched ? Impossible!”

Cassandra was unperturbed. “Emily says there is a video of the incident, though you need a certain ‘clearance level’ to view it, whatever that means.”

Daniela's mouth went into a cute “O” shape as gears worked in her feverish mind. “We need to pester Chris himself about it, then! I must see that with my own two eyes!”

Cassandra just scoffed. “I have nothing further to discuss with that filthy man-thing. That loathsome neanderthal is incapable of appreciating true beauty. Feel free to pester him on your own, sister.” A sense of longing in both her tone and her eyes claimed otherwise. Finally, the three siblings became aware of Ethan, gaping at their impromptu beautification session dumbly.

Bela, seeing his slack-jawed expression, glared at him with mock hurt. Puffing on her freshly-painted blood-red nails, the blonde woman launched into a surprisingly passionate tirade.

“What, just because we are international fugitives, unjustly persecuted for the fact of our births, as well as the crimes we did not commit; yet apparently forgiven for the atrocities we did commit - we are not allowed to look pretty? That is so petty of you, Ethan!”

“What a tactless excuse of a man.” Cassandra happily played along, not even glancing his way, as her black nails consumed her attention wholly.

“And here I thought we were kindred souls, Ethan! And then you go and wound me so greatly with your cruel, judging gaze.” Daniela added her own dramatic bit, while showing off her multicolored digits in a playful grasping motion.

“No judging from me, girls! But where did you even get all that nail polish?” Ethan couldn’t suppress genuine curiosity in his voice. Bela was quick to provide a response - all the while gazing at the father with a coquettish grin that made his heart beat just a tad faster.

“For some reason - Rolando here believes it to be a clerical error - the safehouse was well-stocked in lacquer. Would be a crime not to use that little fact to our advantage, I say!”

The sight of her after-shower body, still glistering with whatever beauty product she used, combined with her flirtatious gestures, was almost enough to make Ethan leap at her right there and then. Fighting through his lust-fueled haze, the man simply nodded, before heading for the kitchen. His stomach felt almost as starved as his raging libido.

An even more bewildering sight greeted him in the large kitchen area. The fearsome B.S.A.A. Captain Chris Redfield was crawling around the floor on all fours, peeking underneath the slipcovered chairs as he did so.

“Lost a penny, Chris?

“A rose.” Chris responded without missing a beat, making Ethan’s blood chill in his veins - just for a moment - as he realized that they were merely playing a game and his beloved daughter was not actually lost.

“She is damn good at this, too. Eveline could be helping her…” Checking underneath another chair, the man sighed before standing up. “You win, Rosemary. Come out, your dad is up.”

From a tiny cabinet that could barely contain even her small frame emerged none other than Rose herself, giggling in innocent joy. The precious child quickly rushed to embrace her father, the man chuckling with parental affection as he lifted her up.

Meanwhile, Eveline appeared seated on a chair nearby, glancing at the two Winters longingly. “I wasn’t helping… that’s not how it works, by the way.”

Letting go of Rosie, Ethan proceeded to rummage in the well-stocked kitchen, settling on some easy-to-prepare noodles, as Rose and Eveline engaged in a small talk of their own. Chris could only rise a brow at the no doubt weird sight, as he offered some information of interest.

“The contact should be arriving soon. Hopefully we can finally put The Connections and their benefactors six feet under - where they belong.”

“One can hope…” Ethan was truly tired of all the mortal struggles, already. A life of peace is what he truly longed for. A world where his beautiful daughter may grow up carefree and happy. A world, where he might have a chance with a certain blonde vampiric bug-lady...

Eating his meal in silence, the man couldn’t help but picture his future. Just the three of them… enjoying a quiet day on a warm beach; observing the serene waves as they built a sandcastle together.

The musings took a dark turn as he considered the ultimate fate of his passenger, however. What would happen to Eveline? Would she remain an intangible ghost forever? That was not an envious fate, by any means, yet could he do anything about changing that?

The harsh pondering would have to wait, as several car engines were heard approaching the somewhat isolated villa. At the noise, Chris did not hesitate to stand up from his own seat, his hand itching for his sidearm, as the man was not taking any chances.

Motioning for Rosie to remain behind, Ethan followed Chris out, several Hound Wolves also joining them on the way. At a motion from her captain, Emily went to the kitchen, instead, as the innocent child’s safety was paramount.

Outside the villa, a trio of black sedans with tinted glass were making their way across the twisted road that led to the property. With the cars stopping just outside the entrance, the passengers were quick to get out, letting Ethan get a good look at them.

The ten men could be described in many different, colorful words, yet the one that was at the forefront of Ethan’s mind was badass . With lean, muscled frames; professional, composed bearings; a mix of casual clothing and tactical, urban-combat, load-out; heavily-customized, no doubt deadly firearms - the men exuded a sense of confidence and invulnerability. An insignia depicting a black fighting knife inside of an outline of a red arrowhead decorated each soldier’s left shoulder. 

Ethan could immediately tell that these were no ordinary bodyguards or mercenaries. Whoever they escorted must be very important, indeed. He didn’t have to guess on that for too long, however, as the middle car’s passenger doors opened and out came two relatively normal-looking people - a man and a woman. Ethan was almost disappointed at not seeing some kind of wizened sage, here to wave a magic wand and make all their problems disappear.

The man was dressed in casual attire - simple dark blue jeans and a black short-sleeved shirt, showcasing his own lean but muscular build. He was of an average height, with somewhat lengthy brown hair that partially obscured his brown eyes. Even though he was middle-aged, the man’s face still exuded an enviable amount of youthful energy. That was a ladies’ man if Ethan ever saw one. An easy smile decorating his attractive visage was a stark contrast to his female companion’s uneasy frown.

The middle-aged, undeniably beautiful woman was noticeably shorter than her male colleague and held her brown hair in a ponytail, though the lighter-colored roots betrayed her as a natural blonde. Unlike him, she was dressed the same way the escorts were - in casual clothing mixed with tactical gear. If her slender frame was weighed down by two sub-machine guns that were attached to her tactical belt, as well as numerous spare magazines, her firm posture did a splendid job at hiding it.

The moment the brunette woman got out of the car, Chris’ narrowed deep blue eyes did not leave her frame - yet conspicuously avoided her own soft blue orbs. The woman, in turn, returned the peculiar contactless glance.

Finally, the apparent leader of the well-armed group stepped forward, offering a hand, as he spoke, in an easygoing tone.

“Hey, Chris. Long time no see.”

Taking his eyes off the silent woman for a moment, the captain shook the offered hand with genuine joy, as if the man was an old comrade-in-arms.

“Leon. Good to see you moving up in the world! An assistant National Security Advisor, with his own Delta Force escort...impressive.”

Chris did sound impressed and Leon let out a light snicker, before responding in a somewhat cocky tone.

“Heh. After that whole Simmons debacle, the ol’ office got really shook up. After they purged everyone even remotely related to that scumbag, someone had to fill in the blanks. A high-up from the new administration offered me this gig and as fun as the whole run n’ gun thing is, I do feel like I can actually make a difference here.”

Chris only nodded, a measure of newfound respect glinting in his eyes for the slightly shorter man. Before long, however, the captain’s gaze returned back to its previous object of attention.

Stomping towards the brunette, Chris exploded into a surprisingly angry tirade, shocking everyone present, even as the woman never met his eyes.

“What the hell are you doing here, Jill!? I told you I’ll handle it. You should’ve remained back and just rested in the States after what they have done to you…”

Jill’s small hands clenched into furious fists as she tried to hold herself back from lashing at him. It didn’t work out.

“Just rested , Chris!? Do you honestly believe I can find any fucking rest while these motherfuckers walk around scot free? After everything they’ve done? No… I am not going to rest until I see every single one of them - either six feet under or behind cast iron bars.”

The large man grit his teeth in impotent frustration, but eventually, yielded the point - this was her fight as much as it was his. In resignation, Chris moved in to embrace the shorter woman. At that, she tensed up, but returned the gesture, which proved brief, as they both broke it soon after.

Meanwhile, Ethan took the opportunity to exchange greetings with Leon, as the brunette man watched him with thinly-veiled curiosity. “Well, well, Mr. Winters, you sure can find your way around the world.”

“I always wanted to travel around… A bit less killing and explosions would be nice, however.” 

Leon only smirked at his response, before giving him a solid handshake.

As the awkward silence ensued, Chris motioned towards the villa’s open entrance. Leon and Jill accepted the invitation with curt nods, while the escorting guards spread out to cover the grounds to ensure the safety of their target. Charlie and John approached their colleagues from Leon’s escort, eager to establish rapport.

Chris, Leon and Jill proceeded towards the entrance slowly, with Ethan lingering slightly behind, merely listening to their carefree conversation.

“So, how’s Claire doing?” Leon was quick to inquire, not bothering to mask the interest in his voice.

“Just peachy. Still walking the Earth with her TerraSave friends, completely uncaring of any life-threatening danger she might stumble upon.” Chris responded, with no shortage of both pride and regret in his words. Jill was quick to pipe in, at that, apparently feeling a bit more at ease now.

“Just like her brother, huh.”

“Just like her foolish brother, you mean? She is in Australia now, last I’ve heard, attending the newest hotspot of 2017's outbreak.” Chris’ fist clenched at the notion that his little sister was as reckless as he was, yet he could not refute the truth of that sentiment. Leon made an audible wince, before speaking himself.

“Ouch. I am sure she will be alright, though… Foolhardy stubbornness is not the only trait you Redfields share, after all. Anyway, send her my best regards, alright?”

Chris just scoffed, before brotherly patting Leon’s back and muttering out a jibe.

“Why don’t you tell that to her yourself, in person? You’re not a young man anymore to keep chasing that woman in red, you know… Someone gotta co…”

Instantly annoyed, Leon slapped the hand away as he rudely interrupted the larger man mid-sentence. 

“I swear to God, I will punch you in the face if you mention the Redfield’s Bloodline again, Chris.”

Taking the interruption in good spirits, Chris merely raised his arms in a mock defense motion, as he chuckled. “Woah there! Just something to consider…You guys don’t make the worst of pairs, you know...”

Annoyance quickly gave way to a fond smile, as Leon’s features softened. “Mhm...” The brunette man opened his mouth in an attempt to make a jibe at Chris’ own sexual life - or lack of it, but thought better of it, considering the present company. Chris’ and Jill’s was a relationship that could hardly be described as merely complicated. 

Lasting romance was a rare thing for those who dedicated their lives to combating bioterrorism… Leon gave a tired sigh of his own at that depressing thought as he recalled all the amazing women he had encountered over the years… just to fail at creating any meaningful relationship.

The self-pitying thoughts died quickly as he entered the villa… only to beheld three gorgeous young women. They were all dressed in varying casual summer outfits, but had exact same flower tattoos on their foreheads, as well as similar-looking necklaces adoring their graceful necks. 

Now, Leon’s memory was a point of pride for the man. The former rookie cop turned assistant national security advisor rarely forgot a face - hence he could recall Ethan from his person of interest lists instantly. But these three beautiful strangers? They were drawing a complete blank in Leon’s bright head.

The three girls stared back at his slack-jawed expression with amusement plain in their creepy yellow eyes. Chris, wishing to diffuse the awkward situation, cleared his throat and made the introduction.

“These are Bela, Cassandra and Daniela Dimitrescu...our associates in the fight against The Connections, from the Duke’s side of things.”

The Duke’s name immediately rang a bell in Leon’s head. That enigmatic man was well-known in certain circles… and his vast array of acquaintances included all kinds of unusual and colorful personalities. Not exactly at ease, but back in the familiar element, Leon was quick to offer a greeting of his own.

“Leon Scott Kennedy, and it's always a pleasure to make acquaintances with such beautiful ladies!”

The brunette Dimitrescu - the tallest among them - gave him a charming wide grin and the former cop couldn’t help but to glance at her long, well-toned legs. Well...damn! The other brunette woman in the room only scoffed, before introducing herself, offering a handshake of her own.

“Jill Valentine. A pleasure.”

At hearing that name, Cassandra’s pleased, objectively beautiful face twisted into a raging grimace - for just a blink of an eye - as the hotheaded Dimitrescu regained her composure momentarily. At least outwardly. Inwardly, Cassandra wanted to do nothing else but to carve that wench up with her beloved knife. Her itchy fingers twitched in a wicked desire to pull out Jill’s guts. To bathe in her blood. To revel in her dying screams.

Doing her best to suppress her inhumanly cruel urges, the brunette Dimitrescu let out a calming breath, before briskly approaching the brunette Valentine, only to envelop Jill’s palm in her vice-like grip. Even if she couldn’t mutilate her, she could still make her squirm.

To Cassandra’s utmost surprise, Jill merely stared back at her with a blank, uninterested expression. The amount of force she was exerting on the smaller woman's hand was enough to make even a powerfully-built human male cry out in agony. She could almost hear bones cracking under that inhuman force, yet Jill gave no sign of being in pain.

Breaking her handshake with an annoyed scoff, Cassandra was not satisfied by this outcome. Straightening up to her full, impressive 6.1 feet height - more than a head taller than Jill’s own - the imposing middle Dimitrescu sibling hissed out a childish taunt that made Bela want to hide her own face in shame.

“So you’re Jill. You don’t look like much.”

Any maid or prisoner they had would’ve been covering in object terror by now, begging for mercy. Cassandra wanted to grit her teeth in frustration as Jill was not intimidated in the slightest by her towering figure of sinister tone.

“Am I supposed to know you..? Cassandra, was it? Sorry, my memory is not so good lately...”

Jill looked up at her with genuine curiosity in her blue eyes, as if seriously trying to recall her from memory. 

Unable to handle the indignation of this whole situation, Cassandra just huffed and left for the kitchen, red in the face from shame and embarrassment; clearly planning to eat her sorrows away.

“Uhm… forgive her, Miss Valentine. My sister can be a bit unfriendly towards...erm… strangers, sometimes. She doesn’t really mean that.” Bela tried to apologize on Cassandra’s behalf, while Jill was simply confused from the peculiar event.

“That’s alright, I guess. Hardly the unfriendliest person I’ve ever met. A mean handshake, though, ouch! Hah!” Jill took the whole unpleasant interaction with surprising cheer, even as she inspected her own hand, which had an angry red imprint where Cassandra had squeezed it. 

Seeing the state of Jill’s hand, Chris let out a low growl. “Wait for me in the conference room. I need to have a word with Cassandra, before we start.”

Bela nodded, as she herself went upstairs to get Alcina. The Dimitrescu matriarch’s body still demanded much rest and therefore she had spent the majority of the day recuperating in one of the villa’s bedrooms.

 

***

 

Not caring for any strange looks directed his way, the captain marched right towards the kitchen area, where Cassandra was already engorging herself on some raw steak. Raising her bloodied face at the stomping sound of his footsteps, the woman shot him a nasty sneer.

“The fuck do you want from me now? Your precious Jill is here! You can go fuck her now!”

Chris himself experienced a barrage of conflicting emotions at Cassandra’s sorry state. 

On one hand, he could finally witness the vulnerable, hurt woman behind her tough facade. The fear of rejection gnawed on her heart, exposing it to his prying eyes. Seeing behind her crackled shell, Chris couldn’t help but wish to comfort the rough Dimitrescu sibling.

On another hand, she took her anger on Jill - completely unjustly, and Chris simply could not abide that. Before he would do anything else, he had to put his foot down on this particular issue.

Closing the door to the kitchen behind him and marching right towards the feasting brunette, Chris did not hesitate to roughly lift her up, before savagely slamming the woman into the wall, knocking the breath out of her lungs.

The swift motion taking her completely by surprise with its brutality, Cassandra could only dumbly gape at Chris, as he held her tight - his fierce blue eyes inches from her own widened amber orbs.

Somehow, in this moment the normally violent and assertive sibling found herself at a loss for both words and actions. Instead of responding to the savage motion with violence of her own, all she could muster was a weak mumble. 

“Chris..?”

Seeing that he had her attention completely, the suddenly fearsome captain snarling tone brooked no argument.

“I’ve tolerated your antics so far because I’ve seen that there is more to you than mindless brutality. But I draw the line at you taking your anger at me on Jill. If you want to blame someone for my mishap - blame me. But Jill - Jill is off-limits, you got me?”

“But…”

Chris slammed her roughly into the wall again, his forearm now pressing painfully against her neck. His guttural, growling voice sent shivers down her bruised spine.

“No buts. Jill. Is. Off. Limits. Do you understand?”

Cassandra could not rationally explain the feelings that assaulted her at this moment. No man had ever dared to lay his hands on her in such a manner… to manhandle her so roughly and demandingly. It was not an entirely...unwelcome feeling.

Her limbs suddenly felt like jelly, yet the ageless, domineering sadist in Cassandra screamed at her to take to her swarm form and to punish this arrogant mortal for his unforgivable transgression. It was hopelessly muffled by her growing arousal.

“I understand…”

Cassandra’s meek, uncharacteristically submissive whisper sent a spike of lust through Chris’ own body. The way she was gazing at him right now - with a dreamy and hazy expression - made the man lower his guard, removing his forearm from her throat.

No sooner than he had done so, Cassandra’s soft lips assaulted his own chapped ones in a frenzied kiss. The man returned her sudden passion - his tongue eager to continue exploration of her hot mouth. Even though common sense attempted to reassert itself, the captain was soon enthralled by his carnal desires, as his hands’ hold on Cassandra’s body shifted from threatening to possessive. The iron-rich taste of their kiss did nothing but embolden Chris further.

Getting a good hold on her firm yet soft buttocks, Chris lifted her up, with her legs immediately coiling around his torso. Not thinking twice, the man seated Cassandra on the nearby counter, grinning as he noted the perfect height of the object for the activity he had in mind.

Breaking the desperate kiss, Chris took a moment to take in his lover with his hungry eyes. With a serene expression framing her beautiful face, there was not a single creature more gorgeous to his deep blue orbs, but a series of troubling thoughts still ran through his mind.

What is this woman doing to me? Leon and the rest are waiting for us… Anyone could walk in on us… Rose is still somewhere in the house, playing with Emily… Ethan will kill me if she sees this... 

More than all that even, the notion of Jill walking in on them sent a chill down his spine. Even though they had not been an item for a very long time now, and likely never would be again - something that both of them understood well - the idea of his partner being hurt by witnessing this act sent a wave of doubt throughout his frame.

Sensing his doubts and fears, Cassandra’s visage shifted to a pleading one - something that very few were ever privy of witnessing. A moment of weakness. She needed this release badly… desperately, even.

As did he. Upon seeing her vulnerable expression, for just a moment, the responsible and self-sacrificing hero died and in his place, only a being of primal desire remained.

With a barely human growl, Chris roughly slid her short-cut jeans down her long legs; her soaking-wet black undergarments followed soon after, allowing the man to witness his prize - her glistering, well-trimmed pussy, already swollen from her want for him. Knowing well that he was liking what he was seeing, Cassandra spread her legs further apart, making the man’s heart skip a beat.

Invigorated and encouraged by the breathtaking sight, Chris proceeded to take his cargo pants as well as his underwear down; the man’s sizable cock was already fully erect, and he felt a certain animalistic satisfaction at seeing wicked hunger sparkling in Cassandra’s eyes as she beheld his full length.

With neither of them in the mood for foreplay, or even having any time for it, Chris’ dick was swift to enter her waiting folds, even as his strong hands engulfed her bountiful buttocks, bringing their bodies ever closer together. Cassandra, meanwhile, embraced the man’s back with her powerful arms, her sharp black nails no doubt making tears in his cheap urban camo shirt.

Before he started his thrusting motions in earnest, Chris made sure to capture her mouth with his own, as Cassandra was quite a screamer. He could only hope that their passionate, mid-coitus make out session would muffle her piercing voice somewhat.

Intensifying the motions, the pleasure the man felt in this moment - as her tight, youthful pussy engulfed his cock with its slick pressure - was simply divine. Thrusting hard and rough, he could feel her muffled moans resonating through his whole frame, and the knowledge that she was just as pleased as he was gave him that much more satisfaction from the whole act.

With her powerful and elastic pelvic muscles working hard to accommodate each of his violent motions, the man struggled to suppress moans of his own, as the sense of wholeness threatened to consume him. It felt like they belonged together - the passion and totality of their lovemaking was simply not matched by any carnal act Chris went through - ever before.

After less than a minute of frenzied thrusts, going deeper and harder after each one; his own fingers leaving angry red imprints on her ass - he could feel the start of her contractions, as well as his own orgasm about to break through, even as he struggled to hold her bucking hips in place.

To mask the scream the woman wanted to let out, the kiss during her climax was the deepest and the most passionate one that they have shared yet.

 

“MHmHMH, CHRIS!”

 

It was still quite audible, to the man’s chagrin. 

The heavenly pleasure he felt from his own orgasm soon had overridden all of his other troubling thoughts, however, as he finally came, his seed mixing with her juices freely. Chris had to bite on his lip painfully to prevent a scream of his own from breaking through. This release was cathartic in more ways than one.

For Cassandra, however, the indescribable pleasure slowly gave way to a moderate amount of hurt, as ‘ Cassandra’ did not leave his lips, as she was so desperately hoping. But neither did ‘Jill’.

Out of breath from the ferocity of their lovemaking, but somehow still feeling charitable now, the brunette woman whispered out a feeble apology, which was even a little bit sincere, this time.

“Ugh… I guess it wasn’t fair being that angry at her…”

Dislodging from her still countertop form, Chris took a moment to wipe his manhood clean with some napkins, even as he gave her neck a rough but loving kiss that would leave a hickey, to her chagrin. Mom will love it… not…

“It's not a weakness to admit to making a mistake, Cassandra.”

Naturally, he picked up on her barely-concealed shamed tone. “Of course it is, Chris… but… maybe sometimes it's not too bad to show a little bit of weakness…”

Cassandra did not look at the man as she mumbled out that peculiar realization - that went against everything she had believed to be an immutable truth, for so long. That strength was everything and weakness in any form was to be squashed without mercy.

The man smiled warmly at hearing that admittance, before passing her a couple of napkins, as well. “Just a little bit. Get proper, Cass, before someone comes looking for us. We still got a job to do, remember?”

The brunette woman smiled wickedly, showing off her bloodied teeth. 

“Oh, I remember. I do not plan on letting any of these vile scumbags that hurt my mother so badly roam free. Their anguish will be legendary.”

Returning his clothing to its rightful place, the man smirked at her cocky words. “Glad I didn’t beat that spunk out of you. We will need that, in the days to come, I believe.”

Putting her own jeans up, Cassandra only let out a hearty laugh, before noting, with a pleased smirk of her own. “Oh, please. It will take a lot more than that to beat anything out of me.”

Giving her full black lips another long kiss, the man growled out a playful threat.

“That sounds like a challenge. And a Redfield does not back down from a challenge.”

With a purr of delight, Cassandra finally leapt from that poor countertop before taking her place next to the man.

“Shall we?”

“We shall.”

Reinvigorated by their impromptu sex, the pair was ready to face any enemy - or so they thought - as they departed to rejoin their waiting comrades in the conference room.

Notes:

Dion finds himself a sweetheart! So cute!

So Leon and Jill finally enter the fray! I honestly hope I did their characters justice, since its been a fucking long time since we saw them, Jill in particular. Naturally, I will be taking some liberties with Jill, as the experience she lived through changed her character quite a bit, in several ways.

Finally, due to popular demand I actually wrote a little Cass/Chris moment in a bit more details than I originally intended, hope it turned out well!

Next chapter 'might' be a big one, so it may take longer than usual to properly write. If you guys are hungry for some Dimitrescu daughters/Ethan smut, there is really good new story here "Three gorgeous dolls and their pet" by LadyDAbusedgloves.

As always, I'd love hear any opinions or to answer any questions you guys might have, as the plot gets understandably more complex! Have a great week and stay safe!

Chapter 32: Two Paths, One Destination

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Millie let out an unpleasant, unladylike grunt after greedily drinking some bottled water she was smart enough to bring along on this ill-conceived journey of hers. The scorching sun’s heat amidst this rust red wasteland was unbearable.

Merely thirty minutes ago she had departed from the fortified settlement of Alice Springs - after enlisting the assistance of a local guide, who had demanded quite a hefty sum for his aid.

Upon being paid, the rough man with a wild haircut had promptly invited her into his ramshackle vehicle - a refurbished, bare-bones jeep without the roof and with some scrap metal acting as both doors and, apparently, makeshift armor. A small-caliber machine gun was attached to the passenger’s side of the hood, at which Millie now stared dejectedly.

Does he need to use that often..? Fuck me…

An explosion in the distance shook the woman out of her depressed musings, making her spring in her seat and let out a frightened yelp of surprise. Looking at the source of disturbance, Millie couldn’t help but gasp.

In the distance, a number of buggies, that appeared even more shoddy than the one she rode in herself, was visible - as was the enormous dust cloud they were leaving behind. The buggies were painted a menacing shade of red, and the savagely-dressed passengers clearly had a fetish for spikes...and guns. 

The lead vehicle, bigger and spikier than the rest, was equipped with what appeared to be a rocket launcher, its gunner firing it wildly into the nearby elevation.

Another booming explosive, as well as howling laughter of the savages reached the dark-haired woman, making her shrivel in fright. Playing with her metal pen with her fingers, Millie for once did not get reassured by the inconspicuous but deadly object. The rockets and guns the brutes in the distance wielded were indubiously deadlier.

Sensing her distress, the guide - Quinn, as he introduced himself - laughed mirthfully, before speaking in his incredibly thick Australian accent, which the woman had to struggle to comprehend.

“No wukkas, mate! These are Warlord Warg’ lot - just celebrating their great victory over the muties in ‘20.”

A hearty pat on her shoulder almost made the woman hit the machine gun that was in her face, with her face. Growling in both indignity and fear, the woman hissed out a swift retort, even as she leaned back in her smelly and flea-eaten seat.

“Is that supposed to reassure me? What’s stopping them from just filling us full of bullets and rockets?”

The admittedly handsome, in a roguish kind of way, guide just smirked, before explaining. “Warg is a reasonable, if a bit crazy one. Alice Springs have an agreement with him, and he respected it - so far. We provide them with an occasional tribute of food and scrap, and they protect us from the roaming muties, as well as the other...less savory gangs.”

The man’s face turned harsh, as he continued. “Now, if you see a toxic-green colored vehicle… that’ll mean trouble. Zoggosh the Pillager’s mutie tribe caused us no shortage of troubles with their erratic raids - that lot ain’t got any respect for us ‘smoothskins’. Ain’t no reasoning with them either, except with the business end of that little thing you’re looking at. “ Quinn aimed his gaze at the machine gun, as he spoke, making the shorter woman gulp. “That said… they do not show their ugly gobs around here too often, not after the beating we gave their sorry arses in ‘21.”

Millie’s short stay in Alice Springs had demonstrated her two things about the few inhabitants that remained there - they were stubborn and hardy. And now, she couldn’t help but mentally call them foolhardy.

Why the hell would anyone sane live here… Jesus Christ.

Before too long, the procession of crimson buggies accelerated, leaving nothing but dust and vulgar gestures for the pair to look at. Millie merely sighed in relief - she was not looking for conflict here, just her foolish father.

Why the hell would HE settle here? Goddamn it!

Several more minutes passed, as their ride bumped across every fucking stone that was in the way, making the woman grit her teeth in silent frustration. The searing sun was not doing her pale complexion any favors. Bored and annoyed, the woman pondered upon the sorry state of this land to kill some time.

 

The outbreak of 2017, dubbed ‘Red Scourge’ for its initial symptoms - reddening of the skin, ravaged much of inland Australia, leaving more than a million dead and several more infected. Those closest to the several hotspots that occurred suffered the worst - becoming afflicted with severe deformities, with heightened aggression and diminished higher brain functions to boot. Coastal areas were less affected, as salty ocean air proved an effective deterrent against this particular strain of virus. To this day, nobody knew the exact culprit behind the calamity, yet the conspiracy theorists had their own say on the subject - as they always do.

Six years later, the majority of the unaffected population had retreated to settle near or inside the large coastal cities, where civilization still flourished and law and order existed. But this deep? Only an occasional fortified settlement was still standing, surrounded by nothing but mutant tribes and warring marauder gangs. The only law was the law of the strong.

 

Finally, the jeep reached what appeared to be a swampy, basin-like area - an oasis, in this sea of rusty sand. The car suddenly stopped; the woman, taken out of her musings sharply turned her gaze at the driver.

“What’s the holdup?” 

Quinn just shook his unshaved head, before pointing a single finger in the direction of the basin. “That’s as far as she’ll go, I am afraid. The rest of the way you'll have to cross on foot, by yourself. Catch you later, babe.”

Millie could indeed recall that that was the agreement. With an unladylike curse, the woman jumped out of the jeep, slamming the door shut with all her might, in a childish effort to get back at the source of her ire.

Quinn just waved her a curt goodbye, before planting one hand on the wheel, while the other reached into his pocket - for a smoke. Without further ceremony, the jeep hit the reverse, before rotating around and driving the way it came from, leaving nothing but a dust cloud behind.

“I better have a nice fucking vacation after all of this… skiing maybe..? Skiing sounds nice after all this fucking heat.” Millie angrily mumbled under her breath as she braved the swampy area, moving along a small path.

As she moved deeper inside the basin, a large mountain of scrap started becoming visible. Invigorated by her goal being in sight, the young woman increased her pace, only for her foot to sink into the suddenly treacherous, muddy ground. 

Hissing in anger, Millie glanced around, coming to a curse-evoking realization - that the muddy water consumed the path ahead, completely. The mountain of scrap metal was an island, as it turned out. Gazing at the water accusingly, the black-haired woman jumped back in shock as something gazed back at her, or so she thought.

I am SO not swimming in this water… Fuck!

Fuming at one obstacle leading to the next, Millie started walking around the small circular path that her keen eyes spotted around the island. 

After several minutes of careful steps, she came to a peculiar area. A series of large metal grates connected the island with the rest of the basin from this direction, allowing one to cross it relatively safely.

Not seeing any other way to access the cursed island, the woman shrugged her petite shoulders, before starting the crossing.

About half-way through the grates, Millie stopped dead in her tracks, as a violent sound suddenly assaulted her earbuds - hissing, as if a kettle was left on a stove for too long.

She didn’t have to guess about the source of the ear-splitting noise, however, as a rather small rotary-aircraft plummeted down towards the metal scrapyard - exactly where she was going to, herself.

With wonder in her metal-gray eyes, Millie could only gape at the burning wreck, as it trailed inky black smoke into the air. Inspecting the aircraft further, the woman was astounded by the makeshift quality of it all - it was made almost literally of scrap - held together by duct tape and good intentions and Millie couldn't help but marvel at the fact that it was ever airborne in the first place.

Before too long, however, the woman gulped in fright as she noted the coloring of the vehicle - toxic green.

Shit… are these the unreasonable raider guys? Well… hopefully none of them made it through the crash…

Millie was not even surprised by her continuous ill fortune. She merely dejectedly stared ahead, as six figures crawled their way from the burning wreck, gaining some distance from it as it exploded in a violent manner - one propeller impaling one of the men right in the stomach, spilling blood and viscera everywhere as it carried itself and the struck man into the muddy waters, where they both promptly vanished.

The remaining five figures growled among each other, as they attempted to shake off their after-crash concussion. The black-haired woman took the time to inspect their horrifying frames, meanwhile. 

They looked human enough - from a distance. Millie had to stifle a gasp of fright as she took in the grisly details. They were dressed in various dirty rags, haphazardly colored in that same toxic green color, as well. All of the men, if one could call these things ‘men’, had gruesome deformities.

The one unifying feature among the misshapen gang was that almost every inch of their skin was covered by vomit-inducing cancerous growths. In addition to that, the largest of them had a hilariously shrinked left arm, while its right one was utterly baffling in its enormity. Another creature had an oversized heart that was completely exposed to the elements, as it bursted from its own ribcage, presumably long ago. The last monster had a feeding tube instead of a mouth, and it was dripping some kind of disgusting greenish substance - acidic in nature, if the hissing sound as it fell to the metal-covered ground was any indication.

As the monsters finally regained their footing, the beast with the ridiculously asymmetrical arms roared in rage, making Millie cover her ears.

“FOKING WARG!!! RAAAAARGH!!!”

The act of moving her limbs around likely attracted their attention, however, and Millie could only curse as five pairs of cruel eyes locked upon her slight frame. Five and a half pairs. The monster with an exposed heart had three eyes - as Millie could see when it turned its horror-inducing mug in her direction.

“Aghh… smoothskin! Fresh meat, boys!”

The five freaks promptly started trudging her way, making the poor woman let out yet another curse, as she backed away, before offering a plea that she knew was useless.

“Wait! I just wanna pass to that island! Lemme go and we can all avoid the unpleasantness!”

The feeding-tube equipment monster hissed out something ineligible at her, while its slightly more human-like colleague muttered out a statement that chilled Millie’s blood in her veins; its long, creepy-ass, snake-like tongue making threatening motions her way.

“The smoothskin’s pale skin looks so tasty, my brothers… what a feast we shall have today!”

As the monsters intensified their pace, the black-haired woman took out her trusty pen and waved it around in a threatening display of her own.

“Stay back! I am armed!”

The beasts only laughed cruelly, as they aimed to surround her. Again, Millie could only curse as her pen failed to provide a proper statement. A trusty weapon for an infiltrator who wanted others to think her unarmed and harmless - exactly the kind of weapon that was useless in this situation. Should’ve brought a fucking shotgun!

Growling in defiance, Millie made the pen float in the air next to her, as its sharp titanium edge glinted in the searing sunlight.

Most sane humans would’ve at least paused in their aggression at such an otherworldly show of power, yet the monsters only continued their hyena-like howling laughter, as they advanced further yet.

In a display of startling speed that completely belied its brutish posture, the first mutant - without any unique features - rushed right at her, its claw-like nails ready to rip and tear.

Gritting her teeth, the woman dodged backwards. With a flick of her wrist, the titanium pen impaled itself right through the mutant’s neck, going in all the way and then out, making a little circle around the now gurgling monster and returning to her side. The beast dumbly attempted to stem the gushing bleeding with its hands, as it stared at its own dark red blood, comprehension lacking in its dull grey eyes. Soon, the strength has left its limbs and the filthy thing collapsed in a heap of rags and blood.

As the first mutant fell, the rest only growled in vengeful rage. The leader-apparent with disproportionate arms roared a challenge, with spittle flying in every direction, some striking Millie’s face - to her utter disgust.

“NO! YOU KILL MIKEY! YOU PAY!”

Before she could offer a response, the enormous right arm was poised to crush her like a grapefruit. Dodging the monstrously-muscular limb at the last possible millisecond, the woman found herself lying on the metal grating, even as the monster raised his appendage again - this time aiming for a killing blow.

Down but not out of the fight, the petite woman willed her writing implement to strike. To Millie’s utmost shock, as she aimed to repeat the previous execution-style attack with her pen, the mutant somehow managed to grab her pen in midair with its shrunken arm that proved far more agile than its deformed appearance suggested.

Grinning a toothless sneer her way, the beast took the opportunity to gloat, even as it raised its huge arm high.

“ME NO DUMB LIKE MIKEY! YOU DIE NOW!”

In a desperate motion, using both of her arms to direct the magnetic fields to maximum effect her own limited inherited power allowed, Millie tore her pen from the shrunken hand’s grasp, only to brutally drive it through the creature’s eye, deep into the brain, and out the back of the skull.

With a gasp of disbelief, the brutish fiend fell dead, yet his comrades were still eager for her blood and Millie only barely rolled out of the way as the freak with an exposed heart leapt right on her.

With a self-satisfied smirk of her own, the small woman flung her pen right into his oversized organ, only to gape in astonishment, as the heart appeared none the worse for wear, even as it bleed a darkish liquid out. The monster grunted in pain, but remained standing. Millie was determined to remedy that issue, however, preparing to carve the organ up from the inside.

Ruining her plans, the next thing Millie felt was excruciating agony as the feeding-tube monstrosity got close enough to spit acid right at her exposed arm. Her pen, bereft of direction, fell from the heart, right through the metal grating - into the muddy water, out of reach.

Clutching her acid-burned arm, with tears flowing freely from her gray orbs, the prone form of Millie could only gaze in defiance as the three remaining aggressors surrounded her completely, cutting off any possible escape.

Unable to provide any meaningful resistance, the petite woman could only shiver in fright and disgust as the hideously long, snake-like tongue of the closest monster lapped around her pale neck.

The hissing sounds the monster made could barely be considered words. “So smooth… so delicious !”

“Oh God…” Millie closed her eyes, hoping for a quick end. The idea that the mutants would attempt to eat her alive was terrifying in the extreme.

Instead of further pain, however, what came next was a sound of metal screeching, followed by several yells and splashes of water.

Carefully opening one gray eye, Millie could only gasp in shock as the three metal grating segments where the mutants stood were now open, while the monsters themselves angrily swam around in the muddy water underneath - their grasping motions unable to reach the elevated grating. Mutant’s curses and promises of dismemberment gave way to panicked screams as the most normal-looking of them suddenly vanished beneath the waters, only to be replaced by a bloody pool. Seconds later, the other two freaks met similar fate, as enormous jaws closed over their torsos, dragging them down to the depths of the muddy basin.

Panting from overuse of her powers, as well as near-death experience, Millie simply stared in befuddlement as distinctly crocodile-like silhouettes swam underneath her, before vanishing.

Adding to her confusion, the metal grates returned back to their original - closed positions. Blinking her eyelids, the woman only now noticed that all the individual metal grate segments had a release mechanism. A dramatic clapping interrupted her further musings on the curious, yet irrelevant subject.

Still kneeling, the exhausted and bruised woman glared at the source of the clapping, already knowing the identity of the arrogant person producing the well-measured, theatrical noise.

The scruffy-looking man that was gazing back at her, still moving his crocodile-leather gloved hands in a mocking clapping motion, appeared almost exactly the same as he did in the pictures she had seen.

Karl Heisenberg.

The only difference was that his beloved long-coat was absent, showing off his lean but notable musculature, as well as a great many scars lining his arms. His voice was of a pleasant, theatrical pitch and the tone was of a person who knew that they had the upper hand.

“Interesting trick with the pen, girl.”

Annoyed at him for apparently just watching and not helping her until the last moment, Millie stood up, even as she dusted her bloodied and dirty shirt. Her tone was a diplomatic one, nevertheless.

“Mr. Heisenberg. Thank you for providing assistance against these… most unsavory types…”

In a blink of an eye, with no warning, the scruffy man flung a dagger right at her throat, using his supernatural power to ensure its accuracy. Only Millie’s well-honed reflexes allowed her to intercept it with her own magnetic field manipulation - mere inches from her throat. The man’s growled out words stopped any words of protest from leaving her own throat.

“Who the fuck are you, and more importantly - how the fuck do you know who the fuck I am and where the fuck to find me?”

Sick and tired of being pushed around, the short woman hissed in anger, as she tried to force the sharp weapon away from herself. The knife budged several inches away, only to freeze in midair as a comparable force pushed on it from the other direction.

After the apparent telekinetic stalemate persisted for several seconds, Millie couldn’t help but smirk in satisfaction at matching her father’s power. That cocky smirk turned into a frown quickly, however, as Karl narrowed his eyes and the knife - easily overpowering her force - found itself scraping against the skin of her neck, drawing a speck of blood.

“I won’t ask again.”

The woman straightened out in resignation, as sweat started beading on her brows. Deciding that neither defiance nor worldshaking revelations would do her any good, Millie went for a more neutral, diplomatic approach, once again.

“My apologies for testing your patience, Mr. Heisenberg… I work for the Duke. I am here on his behalf… Would you be so kind as to..?

With a scoff and a flick of his wrist, the scruffy man forced the dagger to fly back to his side. He still glared at her through his tinted glasses, as he folded his arms - waiting for an elaboration. The knife remained levitating at his side - a clear threat.

“The Connections dealt a powerful blow to the Duke, therefore he had asked me to locate and enlist your aid, if at all possible, Mr. Heisenberg.”

Karl gave a long, tired sigh at that, before motioning for her to follow him, as he turned around and slowly started walking back into his domain, while finally pocketing his knife.

Sighing in relief, Millie followed, even as she clutched her wounded arm.

Behind the mountain of scrap, an entire kingdom of metal awaited. The piles of metal bits of all sizes and shapes; ruined vehicle husks; numerous shoddy shacks - presumably acting as workshops; and a large, almost normal-looking house in the middle of it all.

As the man in front of her trudged to his dwelling, he spoke in an intrigued voice.

“The Duke wouldn’t have suffered any blows from these morons, not unless he overextended himself. Is he finally taking some action, then?”

“He is, sir. We have a real chance at bringing them all down… yet for now it appears that they have the upper hand… The Duke is in trouble, as is the Dimitrescu family.” Remembering the Duke’s words, Millie mentioned the vampiric family intentionally, hoping to provoke a reaction.

Hearing that, the man stopped dead in his tracks, but did not turn her way. The menace Karl was suddenly emanating was palpable - as small bits of metal around them started slightly shaking and his fists clenching. The man’s voice was a low growl as he hissed out a question.

“You got them involved in your mess, as well?”

Millie realized that she had to thread carefully here. Clearly, the Duke was correct in his assumption that Karl did in fact care about his sister and her three daughters. A little half-truth couldn’t hurt…

“No, sir… The Connections found them… They’ve kidnapped Lady Dimitrescu, but the three daughters escaped. Working together, we have managed to recover Lady Dimitrescu and they are all safe and sound...for now.”

The man relaxed his tense posture, before continuing walking forward. Millie released a sigh of her own, as the sharp metal bits returned to rest around her.

Right outside his ramshackle house, the man stopped again, this time turning around to look right in her metal gray orbs, taking his own tinted glasses in the process.

Staring into his hazel eyes, Millie felt judged as never before.

“I think it's time you told me who exactly you are, girl.”

Nervously biting her lower lip, the smaller woman failed to maintain eye contact, as she mumbled out a question of her own.

“Do you remember Tamara Stout?”

The man furrowed his brows, as he recalled the familiar name. 

A herbalist with more passion for her craft than common sense. The woman, who had so brazenly wandered into their isolated region of Romania, in search of a rare herb that was rumored to be there. 

The villagers, eager to please Miranda, captured her themselves. Dimitrescu demanded her as a maid, yet Miranda decided to give her to the genius engineer instead, as he had been lacking fresh, living subjects at that time. The way the tall bitch had fumed that day, at being denied a newest maid was still fresh in his memory. Thinking back on that, Karl couldn’t help but consider that peculiar choice of Miranda’s as an additional spike to wedge into their already strained relationship - to encourage the bitter rivalry he had with Alcina. 

He’d fully intended to use Tamara as a subject for his own Soldat research...yet her cheerful spirit and carefree nature - even in her unenviable situation - sparked an interest in him.

Instead of turning her into yet another mindless monster, Karl had made the woman his personal servant - for a time. After months of getting to know Tamara, he had started to feel something more for her. Eventually, they made love. 

Several more weeks had passed, in almost perfect bliss for Karl, yet he could see that Tamara’s own spark was fading - stuck in his factory, for all days and nights. Her adventurous spirit could not be bound to a single place. Not willing to witness that unique quality withering and dying and not wishing to hurt the woman, Karl had arranged something with the Duke.

A way out, without Miranda’s knowing. That was almost thirty years ago. And now, he was gazing at a woman with these same strikingly metal-gray eyes. With these same ebony black hair. The bright mind that was Karl’s made the connection instantly, yet he still could not believe it.

“Tamara still alive?”

His voice was weak, quiet. The smaller woman only shook her head, making a spike of pain run through his own heart

“She died...giving birth to me.”

Karl could only glare at this woman in her late twenties. A perfect stranger. His own daughter. The one he never knew he had - or wanted to have.

“I see… well, come inside. I think you’ve got a lot of explaining to do about what Duke and The Connections have been up to in the last years.

Millie expected that reaction fully - that he wouldn’t even care about having a child. Yet it still hurt, nonetheless. Suppressing tears that were threatening to burst forth, the woman just nodded, making a motion to enter the dwelling.

Before she could do so, however, a large shadow rushed around the house’s corner, getting right in her face, making the woman let out a yelp of surprise and fright.

Backing away from what turned out to be a very large, flightless bird, Millie couldn’t help but stare at its metal beak in wonderment. The bird - emu - as Millie recalled these were called, glared back at her with its large orange eyes, even as it made threatening low-pitched grunting and sent dust her way with its restless clawed foot.

“Woah, there, Allie. Back down, girl. This is a friend.”

The bird shuffled its feet around, before making a loud booming noise. Apparently losing interest in Millie’s non-threatening posture, it swiftly retreated back the way it came. Millie couldn’t help but question the name aloud, with some amusement in her voice.

“You’re calling your pet emu Allie?”

Karl smirked, as he responded - his amused tone mirroring her own.

“It’s tall and has a bit of an attitude problem.”

Millie couldn’t help but laugh out loud at the peculiar reference, Karl soon joining in. Somehow, the tense mood got just a bit lighter.

“Let’s get inside, I’ll put the kettle on. We have a lot to talk about.”

Nodding, the woman did as told. The catching up as family could wait. The Connection was their primary concern, for now. Entering the sparsely decorated dwelling, the first thing the woman’s eye fell upon was a series of small, framed photographs.

Taking a closer look, Millie was curious to find the first one - a badly faded one - showing three people - an adult man and a woman, with a young boy no older than five in the middle. The apparent family were smiling in the photo, which was made in black and white. It must’ve been extremely old, and Millie couldn’t help but wonder if this was Karl himself, with his own parents, before Miranda barged in.

Grandfather looks strict… yet I can see the intelligence glinting in his eyes even from this ancient photo… Grandmother is so beautiful and her smile is so kind…

Feeling emotional, Millie glanced at the second photograph, which was a newer one - made in color. She couldn’t suppress a smile. It was of Karl and the three Dimitrescu daughters, with Bela having a gentle smile on her face, Daniela making a silly grimace and Karl and Cassandra standing in the back - adopting much more composed expressions, though not without a ghost of smiles on their own lips.

He really does love them…

A sound of clearing throat brought Millie out of her trance. Turning toward her host, who now had a couple of cups full of delicious-smelling black tea, the black-haired woman wanted to apologize for intruding on his private possessions, yet the man merely made a motion for her to sit at the simple wooden table.

Taking the offered seat, Millie watched Karl curiously, as he placed the cups on the table, only to retreat back into the further room. A moment later, he came back with a bandage, as well as some green gel.

Without saying a word, the scruffy man set to work on her acid-burned arm, to her own surprise. It wasn’t too deep, and Millie was shocked that he cared enough to provide first aid. As he worked, Karl asked her a question, in a soft and quiet voice.

“So... how are my nieces doing?”

I wish you asked how I was doing...dad…

Suppressing her dismay, the mechanic’s daughter answered one question after another, struggling to satisfy Karl’s ever growing curiosity. It was clear that the recluse missed the outside world, despite the kingdom of metal he had carved out for himself here. With each eagerly provided answer, his determination to make a grand return increased. So when Millie finally asked a question of her own, his answer was hardly surprising.

“So… will you help us?”

“As much as I needed this vacation, I think it has gone on for long enough. So yes, I will help. It’s about damn time I got back to kicking ass.”

Karl Heisenberg’s cocky smirk made Millie feel like all the troubles she went through to get here was worth it, after all. The Connections will not know what hit them.

 

***

 

Inside the modestly decorated conference room the gang was ready to start their meeting, with Leon sitting at the head of a rectangular mahogany table at one side, and Alcina at the other.

It’s been a couple of minutes already since they’ve all gathered here. All but Chris and Cassandra. Some impatience was growing in the room. 

“They sure are having a lengthy talk…” Leon scratched his head as he muttered the obvious statement.

Daniela was itching in her seat, a shit-eating grin plastered on her face as her perverted mind concocted all kinds of various dirty scenarios. “I can go check on them! Lemme go check on them!” She was way too eager, making Bela scoff and lightly slap the back of her younger sister’s head. 

Alcina only sighed in tired resignation. Her restless daughters really took a fancy to these silly man-things…

Jill was looking at the assembled faces in quiet curiosity, not exactly sure about what was going on, even if the implications were obvious. Surely Chris wouldn’t be having an improper sex in a kitchen with that crass woman? Then again, that man was always full of surprises…

Every question was answered as the late duo itself finally made their grand entrance inside the conference room, almost hand-in-hand. With their glowing, almost blushing faces it was quite clear to most present exactly what they’ve been doing.

Alcina let out an audible gasp at the indignation. Her beloved daughter was taken right at the kitchen… the humiliation almost made her faint. The only consolidation was that Cassandra actually looked at her with an apologetic wince.

I just hope this is truly what you wish to do with your life, my dear lovebug… to put your heart in the hands of this vile, brutish man.

Jill was as shocked as Alcina. She couldn’t help but ponder if Chris was finally moving on from their own trainwreck of a relationship, or if that was merely the latest, irrelevant fling. Whatever it was, the brunette woman genuinely hoped that the man would find happiness. Few deserved it as much as him and she could only curse the fact that they could not find it together. God knows they tried.

Finally, the late arrivals took their seats - Chris next to Ethan and Cassandra next to Daniela. The redhead immediately began whispering something - likely lewd - into her older sister’s ear, making the latter blush furiously.

In that moment, the large screen on the wall behind Leon sprung to life, Duke’s cherub face joining their meeting remotely. The large merchant appeared quite somber for the occasion, his normally jolly disposition nowhere to be found. Clearly, he still mourned the loss of his beloved ship, which was understandable.

“Greetings, my dear friends. While I wish to be there with you in the flesh, the unfortunate turn of events means that this will have to suffice…”

Everyone responded with curt greetings, except for Daniela, who delivered a heartfelt one, with her palm on her actual heart as she did so. “Duke! I am so sorry about the Nouă Speranță! Once we are done with these scumbags who did it, we will help build a ship even more majestic! I’ll take care of decorations! You’ll love them!”

Ethan and Bela both gave the eager redhead a genuine smile. The youngest Dimitrescu's authentic emotions were truly inspiring for everyone present. The Duke himself had a measure of his jolly nature returning to his softening features. “Thank you, my dear. I will hold you to that promise!”

As the pleasantries went out of the way, clearing his throat to gain attention, Leon started the meeting.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen. You all know why we have gathered here today. To finally get rid of the Connections.” Many nods followed that statement, as Leon continued. “The Duke had already shared the highlights of the items and information recovered from your latest...ehm… activities.”

Cassandra giggled with menace at that. She was quite happy about the bodycount left in her wake, so far. Yet more needed to have a taste of her sickle, knife or teeth. So many more.

Leon’s voice lost a bit of spark. “And while this is indeed a treasure trove of valuable and compromising material that would set them back immeasurably, it's not quite enough to deal one final, decisive blow.”

The mood in the room immediately shifted from that cold, factual statement. The girls traded glances, unsure about where that was going. Leon proceeded, with a smirk. 

“Fortunately, that’s exactly the reason I’ve arranged for our meeting to happen here, in Nice.” Everyone looked at him with curiosity, at that. The man’s smirk turned into a full-blown grin.

“One of my best agents had been in touch with a possible high-value defector for a while now, yet that person was unwilling to commit to any meaningful relationship with us.” Leon made a dramatic pause, giving everyone present a pointed look.

“But now… it appears that the mess you’ve caused in Mauritania has ruffled quite a few feathers up there, and the defector is now looking for a way out. Almost immediately after that raid of yours concluded successfully, that man has contacted us, arranging a meeting, right here.”

“The Connections’ has a defector? What makes you think he is a real deal?” Chris was quick to inquire, with Leon even quicker with his response.

“He’s fed us some valuable data to prove his intent, already. Several high-profile arrests, as well as seizures of extremely valuable assets were only possible because of the leaked info that guy provided. It’s still possible that he’s a fake, laying an ambush of some kind for us, but that seems quite unlikely.” 

“What’s the catch then? Surely that man won’t just surrender all he knows.” Bela’s question made sense, and Leon pointed an index finger right her way, as he answered.

“Bingo. That’s where some of the issues are coming from. First, the guy is asking for an outrageous sum for his cooperation. Ten million U.S. dollars, in cash. Now, normally a sum like that would be no problem for Uncle Sam to provide, yet we have to be extra cautious - as we are here in an unofficial capacity and an act of wiring the requested amount would no doubt arouse suspicion. So...” 

Leon glanced behind his shoulder, leveling a questioning glance Duke’s way. The large merchant adopted a sheepish expression, before responding.

“I am afraid the latest setback will mean that procuring the aforementioned sum will be tricky… as well as time-consuming.”

A pregnant silence ensued, yet it did not last long, as Lady Dimitrescu herself interrupted it, surprising most present.

“As I mentioned before, the House Dimitrescu is eager to provide monetary support for this common venture of ours. Duke, if you’ll be so kind as to make a withdrawal and transfer of the required sum on our behalf?”

The Duke smiled warmly, as he responded. “Of course, my lady. I am sure that everyone present appreciates your generosity.”

Alcina merely curled her blood-red lips, as if conversing about such trifling sums was beneath her. Bela took a moment to glance at her mother with affection. Lady Dimitrescu put on a tough, uncaring facade, yet her oldest daughter could see plainly that her mother cared, that she was genuinely happy to be of use. That barely-perceptible edge in her curled lip, as well as that unmistakable glinting in her amber orbs betrayed Alcina’s true feelings to her eldest.

Cassandra, however, was not as amused by the whole conversation. Folding her arms and holding her chin high, the brunette scoffed, before launching into an angry tirade.

“So, we will just let that traitorous worm off the hook, and even pay him money!? For all I know, he might’ve been the one in charge of these vile mercenaries who attacked us! I say we take what we want from him, by force, and then feed him to the pigs, alive and screaming.”

The woman’s cruelty was well-known to the majority present, yet the newcomers simply stared at her in bewilderment.

“How are we any better than them if we do th…” Leon attempted to placate the brunette, yet she interrupted him with dark passion, her amber orbs glinting in malice. 

“We are not! I don’t give a shit about being a better person, or any such nonsense! I just want to let everyone know what fate awaits those who fuck with the Dimitrescu! A painful , slow demise.”

A brief, tense silence ensued, as the gathering processed her callous words. Eventually, Leon sighed, but held his ground. “Regardless of your personal opinions, Miss Dimitrescu, my agent sees much potential in this defector as a long-term asset. Getting one scumbag off the hook to topple a thousand is a fair trade, if you ask me.”

Cassandra scoffed, but held her tongue. A reassuring smile from Chris made her black heart flutter and her anger dissipated soon after. What is this man-thing doing to me… 

 

Seeing that one issue was solved, the assistant advisor moved on to the next.

“Now, the defector has arranged a meeting, today.” Everyone was once again listening with attention, to Leon’s satisfaction. “Midnight, inside La Rose Noire - a famous, in… err, certain circles, nightclub right here, in Nice’s suburbs.”

“A nightclub?” Chris’ gasp of astonishment was mirrored by several others. Leon’s smirk grew.

“Indeed. The owner is a notorious and powerful white-collar criminal, with deep ties into the local government. Basically untouchable. But apparently owing a favor or two to our dear defector…”

Daniela’s amber orbs widened in excitement. This was almost exactly like the plot of the latest novel she’d read! The redhead stared right into the Leon’s mouth, not wanting to miss a word. Yet it was Jill, who spoke next.

“So, who’s going to meet that defector?”

“I’ll go.” Chris did not hesitate to volunteer. Leon only shook his head.

“Not good enough, I am afraid. I’ve got word that the defector has reached out to Chinese and Russians, as well. We’ll need to put on a show to ensure that he chooses us. A bigger party is needed to achieve that, I believe.”

“How would any of us even gain access there? Doubt we can just stroll into that club...” Ethan couldn’t suppress his curiosity, so he voiced his thoughts. He visited his fair share of clubs, yet none of them were owned by organized crime lords… at least not to his knowledge. The man imagined that these kinds of seedy establishments were quite selective about who was let in.

Hearing that query, the Duke grinned widely. “Good question, Mr. Winters! Now, this is an elite establishment, with attendance booked months in advance…”

Ethan nodded, but waited for the huge merchant to continue. The ‘but’ was bound to follow.

“But, with a little bird’s help, I’ve managed to have a backdoor to their facial recognition system installed...”

Leon nodded, and picked the conversation. “For Hannigan’s - my best agent - hacking into their systems was a child’s play with that backdoor. We can get you in as any of the real guests that were on the list that day. Forging fake IDs will take less than an hour.”

The Duke grinned mirthfully, before clapping his enormous palms together and speaking in a suggestive tone. 

“Now, for our event, might I recommend a party of six? Three men and three women. Some minor noble family from England, as well as their escorts, which my men are prepared to intercept and inconspicuously reroute, while you take their place inside La Rose Noire.

“Count me out. I have an allergy to loud music.” Jill was quick to excuse herself, raising an eyebrow from Chris. He knew for a fact that she had no such allergies, and in fact, was a rave animal whenever the situation permitted. The brunette partner of his merely gave him a conspiratorial wink as she noted his confused glance her way. Daniela’s overly eager voice quickly made the captain glance her way, instead.

“Oh my God! Me! I - Daniela the Brave - volunteer for this most perilous and dangerous of missions! Please! Select me!” 

“Dear sister! Someone will have to keep an eye on you, in that case! I have no choice but to tag along, then!” Cassandra was quick to select herself, with a self-satisfied smirk directed at both Daniela and Chris.

With an annoyed scoff, Bela was next to butt in. “Aren’t you forgetting something, dearest sisters of mine? We are international fugitives, surely we cannot show our faces anywhere in public?”

Jill let out a mirthless chuckle at that. “Four out of thousands. Get in line, girls.”

With an annoyed grunt, Chris added his own two cents. “Any proper automated system will pick you up as a person of interest, but most people will struggle to connect any of you to some face they saw on TV in between drinking some beer and watching football.”

Leon gave a nod, as he checked their Interpol mugshots for himself on his smartphone. “True. I can hardly tell that you’re the same people as these bloodied and dirt-smeared guys the drone took a shot of during that raid. We will need to do something about these yellow eyes and forehead tattoos of yours, though...”

Daniela appeared awestruck, with stars shining in her eyes as she mumbled out an unsure query, in a meek and quiet voice.

“So… does that mean we can go to a nightclub…”

Leon scratched his head, before answering.

“Well… as long as you do what Chris tells you, I don’t see why not.”

 

“YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!” 

 

The deafening pitch of Daniela’s piercing voice made several people actually cover their ears, with Bela and Cassandra simply grinning - likely used to the wild displays of enthusiasm the redhead occasionally indulged in. 

After her daughter calmed down a bit, Alcina couldn’t help but ask aloud the thought that gnawed at her, with genuine worry in her tone.

“Are you sure it is wise, my daughters? It could prove more dangerous than you think…”

Daniela made the cutest pout Ethan had ever seen her do, making the matriarch’s heart melt. At seeing the protective maternal reaction, Chris couldn’t help but add an encouragement of his own.

“Don’t worry, Lady Dimitrescu. I’ll keep your daughters safe. And… truth to be told, I think they’d be perfect - the defector will surely recognize them himself and know that we mean business.”

With a resigned sigh, Alcina conceded. Bela grinned evilly then, as she continued the discussion. Ethan couldn’t help but gulp as her piercing yellow eyes focused firmly on his own.

“We are still two men short, aren’t we?”

To the blonde daughter’s annoyance, a certain redheaded man responded to that.

“Oh, I am in. Never missed a good clubbing session in my life, not gonna start now!”

Clicking her tongue at Dion, Bela continued, not taking her eyes off Ethan. “Alright, one more, and I propose Ethan!”

“Me?” Ethan actually appeared surprised by her suggestion, making Bela lick her lips at how cute he looked in that moment. I could eat him right up…

“I second that, of course. Ethan.” Cassandra was now also staring right at him, a mischievous smirk of her own decorating the cruel brunette’s face.

“I’ll accept only Ethan for the last spot on our team!” Daniela pumped her small fist up as she boisterously proclaimed her support for him.

Ethan couldn’t suppress a joyful laugh at that unified display, before nodding his head. “Well, how can I possibly refuse the three of you, ladies?”

“You can’t.” The finality of Bela’s voice sent shivers of anticipation down Ethan’s spine. This was going to be a wild night.

“I feel like someone should remind you lot that this is work...not fun.” Rolando attempted to butt in, yet was quickly but quietly hushed by Chris.

“Let them have this moment.”

 

Leon couldn’t suppress a chuckle of his own at the unbelievable sight of these strange women being so eager for a simple outing into the city. They must have led extremely sheltered lives. Attracting everyone’s attention with a loud clap, Leon concluded their meeting with some parting words.

“Alright, it’s all settled then. As long as you follow Chris’ instructions as the situation develops, I have no objections to the team’s composition.”

The three Dimitrescu girls gave each other conspiratorial glances and nods, before surprising everyone as they stood at attention - in perfect synchronicity - while giving a proper military salute and a trio of: “Sir, Yes, Sir!” Unable to hold that pose for long, they soon dropped it, only to devolve into fits of uncontrollable giggling.

Leon was genuinely amused by the little performance, as was reflected in his upbeat tone. “Aren’t you three a bundle of joy? Regardless, we are done here, I believe.” Giving everyone assembled a glance, the man spoke softly, but with authority. 

“Jill, take a couple of Holiday’s men and withdraw the money, the Duke will stay in contact with you.”

The shorter brunette woman simply nodded curtly, before moving out of the conference room, giving everyone a goodbye wave as she did so.

“Everyone else, you’ve got a nightclub to prepare for?” 

Chris nodded, and took over. “Indeed. Let’s go ask Emily to go out to buy you some colored contact lenses and foundation to cover these tattoos.”

 

As everyone made a motion to get out of the conference room to attend to business elsewhere, an inconspicuous object was shoved right into Ethan’s right hand. With surprise, the man quickly realized that it was his own sketchbook. Cassandra didn’t even glance his way, as she rounded the corner, chatting amicable with Daniela, instead.

“Cass was quite taken with the quality of your work... you’ll have to show it to me - next.” Bela’s husky voice in his ear made the man turn his face towards the blonde Dimitrescu, only to have her lips smash against his own in a quick but lustful kiss that promised more to come. “… see you later, handsome.”

And just like that, the giggling blonde left the starstruck man in a now emptied hallway, making sure to sway her hips for her next steps, showing off her curvy rear.

Ethan couldn’t wait to knead these soft yet firm buttocks of hers with his own hands, but for now, he merely flipped through his prized sketchbook, to ensure that his works were intact.

Getting to the page where he had drawn Cassandra - with her expression fierce and a single fist raised and clenched; the man smirked as someone - with perfect penmanship, wrote a small extra bit on the bottom. Dimitrescu seal of approval.

With a chuckle, Ethan got to the last page, where a new work awaited, to his own bewilderment. Ethan’s own face stared right back at him from the sketchbook, done with amazing attention to detail, highlighting his own strong features, such as his pleasantly straight cheeks or expressive eyes. The artist's identity was not a mystery for long, as she had left a little note at the bottom of the sketch.

“A stupid man-thing” by Cassandra Precision Dimitrescu 

P.S. You break Bela’s heart - I’ll break you.

 

Ethan wasn’t sure whether to be astounded by her own formidable talent, insulted by the derogatory nick-name, amused by her choice of a middle name, or frightened by the threat he knew she meant, so he just shrugged his shoulders and went to rejoin the gang in the living room. This day was going to be a long one.

 

***

 

As the sun hid behind the horizon, Anna smirked; her small yet calloused from hard work fingers clutching a smartphone. From her spot near the helipad, the servant-turned-saboteur observed two black sedans leaving the villa grounds. Unbeknownst to anyone else, the quiet and inconspicuous stewardess had listened in on their little meeting.

 

Before departing for his foolish venture, Dion Wilson was only too eager to provide his civilian smartphone to her, at the merest implications of potential boredom from the small woman.

“I am going to have fun, only fair that you can do the same!” - were his parting words, as he unlocked the device, before offering it to her. The bodysnatcher only marveled at his stupidity. It was always amazing how much a sob story combined with some eyelash batting could achieve. 

 

Standing on top of the villa’s roof, where she could do her business without attracting unwanted attention, the woman took a moment to glance around the property. Unlike the previous observers who occupied this very roof, she was not interested in the majestic view. Only in the men patrolling the grounds down below.

American spec ops… Ten of them...could be problematic… but not mission-critical.

Returning back to the phone clutched in her small hand, Anna inspected the expensive toy. True, it contained no state secrets or compromising material (unless one counted a lot of erotic pictures of hot women as that), yet it would serve her purposes just as well.

Letting out an evil giggle, before dialing a familiar number, the woman waited for the receiver to pick up. A meek male voice spoke to her from the other side.

“Hello, you’ve reached Vektor Cleaning Services, how may we be of assistance?”

Anna did not think about her response. “I found myself dissatisfied by the quality of your work. Kindly connect me to your manager.”

“...Just a moment.”

Anna waited patiently, as the line clicked - shifting to a much more secure, untraceable connection. Nothing but breathing was heard from the phone now - the new operator giving the caller the first word. Knowing the protocol well, the bodysnatcher spoke the sequence that would be completely unfamiliar to anyone not in the know.

“PF-14-24-00087-Felicity.”

A confident female voice answered, after a delay.

“Confirmed. How may we assist you today, agent Fettel?”

Anna did not hesitate to answer.

“Requesting a ‘Blackout’ asset at my current position, to be unleashed and placed under my direct control on my next call to Vektor. Authorization code - 3247B-Omega.”

The female operator responded after a delay of several seconds, sounding less confident, this time.

“...Received. Specify setting?”

Maximum lethality.” The bodysnatcher could hear the breath being caught in the throat of the operator, from the sheer finality of the spoken command. To agent Fettel’s annoyance, the operator delayed the final confirmation, yet again.

“...Confirm again, agent Fettel? You’re still within the city limits, civilian casualties are a high pos...”

With an annoyed scoff, the bodysnatcher interrupted the operator mid-sentence.

“Disregard that last. Contact the PR department and tell them to cook up a story about an unlawful American intervention on French sovereign soil to apprehend some escaped whistleblower or whatever. Some dead civilians will only aid our cause. You have your authorization code - proceed.”

“...Confirmed. You will have your asset within twenty-four hours.” There was a certain remorseful kind of resignation in the operator’s tone. 

“Excellent.” 

 

Ending the call, Anna hummed a cheerful tune as she returned back inside the villa, cruel thoughts running through her hijacked head. 

How nice of all the loose ends to gather together - in one place! These fools will not know what hit them!

There was only one thing agent Fettel was not happy about. Real Anna somehow got out of the little special hell he had constructed just for her and was now impotently raging at him in Russian - which he no longer understood, since he had lost connection with her memories, and could only control her body now.

Уйди из моего тела, дьявол! Тварь ты этакая! Ненавижу! Убью!

Shut the fuck up! Be a good girl and maybe I’ll consider letting you have your worthless sack of meat back after I am done with it. Otherwise, I might just be tempted to drown it before vacating.

That shut her up. For a while. That little girl proved to be a more resilient creature than originally anticipated and now he had to play it safe and keep his head down, as he could no longer mimic that ridiculous Russian accent she possessed. 

Doesn’t matter. Twenty-four hours of this charade is all I need.

With that thought, the infiltrator retreated to a small guest room, planning to pretend to be sick. With Chris Redfield and Dion Wilson in that nightclub, nobody else would have any reason to pester little Anna. Everything was going according to plan, more or less.

Notes:

A bit of a lengthy chapter, as even though I originally wanted to split Australian segment in two, I've decided to just roll it in one. Quite hyped to get to work on the next chapter, as it will be definitely a fun one, as will be the one after it. Now, all done with 'setting the table' we can get to the juicy action.

Hope this chapter was also enjoyable and wish you all to have a great week!

Chapter 33: The Higher We Rise...

Notes:

1)This chapter will contain a moderately descriptive depiction of a sexual intercourse.
2)The chapter breaks here (excluding the first one) will be more of a change of PoVs, rather than advancement of timeline - they will all mostly overlap with one another in that regard.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

With Dion driving the car, Bela and Daniela reclining in the backseats, the drive towards the nightclub should’ve been nothing but joyous. Yet Ethan found the atmosphere tense from his front passenger seat, as the redheaded driver asked the redheaded daughter the hard question.

“What’s it like? Losing control of yourself?”

Apparently, Dion somehow learned about Daniela’s condition - the uncontrollable bursts of murderous rage that would occasionally grip the kind-hearted girl, turning her into a merciless killing machine.

Ethan felt a spike of anger raising up from inside at the tone-deaf question. Bela must’ve shared the sentiment, as her own lips curled in ire. The eldest daughter opened her mouth, likely to tell the young man to mind his own business, perhaps even in colorful terms, yet a gentle hand on her shoulder stopped her.

“It’s alright, sis… I don’t wanna run away from it anymore.” Daniela’s voice was quiet, yet resolute.

Ethan glanced behind him to be able to see the speaker. Daniela had a thousand-yards look as she answered Dion’s question, uncharacteristically for her - in a subdued, neutral tone.

“It feels like to be reduced to your most primal beginnings. To see nothing but red. To feel nothing but hunger and rage. So much hunger…Insatiable…Unrelenting...Hunger. But...”

Something changed in that moment in Daniela’s gaze, as she gazed right into Ethan’s eyes. Her voice had a spark of hope - hope of overcoming the inner beast, one day.

“The last time it happened - during the fight with that horrible little assassin… I didn't fight it - I embraced the beast because I wanted to tear that woman apart as much as it did. And… “ the redhead nibbled on her lip, nervous. “...and it allowed me to remain in control, at least partially - I could direct its rage.”

Bela gasped audibly, taking her sister into a hug, as she did so. “But that’s amazing, Dani! Why have you kept that from us?”

“I was thinking about it, sis… but is it truly a good thing? Maybe it just wants me to become its mirror image - savage and vicious.”

Ethan couldn’t help but make an inquiry of his own, as something gnawed on the back of his mind. “That rage it feels… is it discriminate… or focused on something?”

Daniela’s brows furrowed as she thought hard on it. “I think… I am not sure… but I feel like it's focused on the reason for its awakening - it wants to destroy it… to consume it utterly.”

Noticing his own pondering gaze, Bela’s soft tone was full of curiosity. “What are you thinking, Ethan?”

The man just shrugged, before offering an idea that was festering in his mind for a while. 

“Since that creature is a part of you, I believe that you’re able to influence it, Dani… but perhaps fighting it only makes it angrier...stronger… What if you were to accept it when it forces its way out of you… but instead of remaining on the sidelines, you were to think hard upon something you want it to focus on. An idea. A goal?”

“An interesting thought, Ethan…” Bela sounded intrigued, but Daniela merely giggled before noting in a once-again cheerful voice.

“I’ll make sure to give it a try, next time it happens - I just hope it won’t be any time soon, hah!”

“Amen to that.”

“Damn, sorry for asking… didn’t expect it to get this deep… welp… here we are!” Dion sounded sheepish, as he maneuvered their car into the club’s parking lot.

 

The small company was quick to vacate their sedan, taking a glance at the establishment they were about to enter, in the process.

La Rose Noire didn’t look like anything special from the outside - just a rather large, well-kept, three-story tall building. A small but quickly moving line of potential patrons was just outside the entrance, constantly being replenished by new arrivals.

Soon, the second car of their little procession had parked and its passengers disembarked. Chris had some words with Leon and John, who would be on standby, while Cassandra was swift to rejoin her sisters, making Ethan grin at the sight.

The Dimitrescu girls were dressed in nearly identical outfits - helpfully procured by Emily for the occasion - below knee dark leather boots; a two-piece black dress, consisting of a skirt - that showed just a bit of thigh, and a blouse - which hugged their curves tightly, while concealing their slender arms behind soft, semi-transparent fabric. Their graceful necks were decorated by silver necklaces - with small, tear-shaped gems of their respective favorite color - red, yellow and green.

Three pairs of familiar eyes stared back at him in amusement, now unusual in their coloration. Bela’s calm and soft blue, Cassandra’s fierce yet playful brown and Daniela's mischievous green.

Even though Ethan had grown to love their unique, piercing amber orbs, he couldn’t help but wonder if these contact lenses mimicked their original eye color - before their rebirth as the Dimitrescu daughters.

“I think your man likes what he is seeing, sister.” Cassandra’s mocking voice failed to evoke any negative emotions in Ethan, this time. He couldn’t help but note that he was not referred to as a ‘man-thing’ or even a ‘human’, but a relatively neutral - almost friendly - ‘man’. 

“He’d be a fool not to.” Dion offered his own two cents, as he gaped at the three sisters himself, his own green eyes briefly glancing at Daniela’s exposed thigh.

The three girls giggled in synchronicity, before their company was joined by Chris. “Shall we, ladies and gentlemen?”

“We shall.” Cassandra was quick to assert, shamelessly attaching herself to Chris’ side, with her slender arm snaking around his own muscular one. Bela repeated the gesture with Ethan - no hesitation whatsoever in her firm grip; while Daniela approached Dion, more shyly. 

They all had to play their role as happy couples today, yet the emotions were genuine enough. Ethan couldn’t suppress a small sigh of contentment as Bela’s well-toned arm was intertwined with his own; while her blonde head leaned slightly on his shoulder. All kinds of warm and fuzzy feelings were racing throughout his body and mind at this wholesome contact.

Hand in hand with each other and with smiles on their faces, the gang proceeded inside.

 

***

 

Leaning against the car’s door, Leon was puffing on a cigarette as his eyes followed the team until they vanished inside the club. Seeing the gang having passed the facial-recognition device equipped bouncer with no issues, the man let out a sigh of relief. Clearly, their little hacking scheme went off without a hitch, and just for tonight the dangerous international bioterrorists were turned into a middling group of British nobility, as well as their beautiful escorts.

Giving one last huff with his cigarette, the man let it fall to the ground, before stomping on it. Leon had never thought he’d pick up this particular unhealthy habit, yet the stresses of his life were many, and if a little intake of nicotine could help him get through the day in one piece - so be it.

 

To kill some time, Leon thought about starting a conversation with his partner for this night - John Perlman, a stoic man of few words - yet his eyes happened to glance across the side-view mirror of his car, changing his plans dramatically.

“Hey, John. Why don’t you do a circle around the club, see if there are any suspicious people lurking about?”

The large Hound Wolf glanced at him with a measure of surprise, but quickly conceded to the request with a nod. John trusted Chris implicitly, and therefore if Chris trusted Leon, so would John.

A few moments after the large soldier disappeared behind the building’s corner, a clicking of heels on the pavement preceded a familiar voice from sending shivers down Leon’s spine - a fact that he was careful to conceal.

“Leon. Fancy running into you here. I see you’re hanging back tonight.”

“Perhaps I wanted to run into someone out here myself, Ada.” Leon sounded far more cocky than he felt.

“Oh?” Her hot breath on his neck stretched the man’s composure to its limits. “Are you implying that I’ve become predictable?”

Leon snickered, before finally turning his head to gaze at the woman. Clearly, Ada had not lost her love for red and black, if her today’s dress was any indication.
“Nothing of the sort… yet, I’d like to think that I’ve learned a trick or two over the years of chasing you around.”

Ada’s lips curled into an amused smirk, which was mirrored by Leon’s own. “So…you’re here for our little friend as well, Ada?”

The striking woman took a moment to admire her nails, as she responded.

“Naturally. A high-value Connections defector is a treasure trove of compromising information. I’ll have to properly thank my Chinese colleague for providing me with this tip, later.”

Leon’s expression hardened at that, with his voice reflecting his displeasure. “And what exactly are you going to do with that ‘treasure trove’?”

Ada only scoffed, before providing the answer to the obvious question. “Do you even have to ask? We all are looking to advance our interests. The Connections got ahead, yet their competitors are many and are all looking for a way to close the gap. In the right hands, such information could be priceless.”

Leon let out a scoff of his own, as he turned away from the woman, to glare at the nightclub, instead. “That’s all you ever cared about, playing the big game of chess; preserving the status quo?”

The woman’s own glare hardened at that, as she leveled an accusation Leon’s way. “Oh? And what about you? A great hero of justice - seeking to bring an evil conglomerate down? You’re still naive, Leon. Even if you manage to crush the Connections, you will solve nothing in the long term - someone else will simply fill the void left in their wake.”

At her cynical outlook, Leon couldn’t help but grit his teeth, before launching into a passionate tirade. “I am not stupid, Ada, I realize that. We won’t win this fight by merely toppling the highest tower. Yet not only will we buy some time it takes for these scumbags to reorganize themselves, but we will also make an example - no matter how high they climb, none of them will ever be truly safe from the eventual justice.”

Ada leisurely strolled around the car as Leon spoke, a slightly mocking smile never quite leaving her lips. As the man finished his little speech, she got right into his personal space, locking their gazes together, as she quietly muttered out a response, while softly caressing his cheek.

“Always so noble… my hero of justice…” Having stunned Leon into silence, the woman smirked, before offering a proposal. ”I suppose I can be persuaded to let your guys have the defector…”

Regaining his wit, Leon sensually took hold of her lithe hand with his own, as his own voice took on a quiet tone. “And what would it take to persuade you?”

Ada pointed the index finger of her free hand up. “First, you’ll provide me with a copy of whatever the defector decides to share with you. Knowledge is power, no matter how you swing it.”

That was a tricky condition, yet by now Leon knew Ada well enough to be sure that she would not put such information to any truly sinister purposes. “Alright, I can live with that. What else?”

The woman grinned, before adjusting her position to whisper the demand right in his ear. 

“A candlelight dinner in a five-star restaurant of your choice.”

Leon couldn’t help but feel heat creeping to his face at her sensual voice, especially with her hot breath licking his earlobe so pleasantly.

“I think… I can accommodate that request.”

Ada planted a light peck on his lips at that, making the man shudder at the...not unwelcome contact.

“Excellent. I believe we have reached an accord then.” Ada took several steps backwards, never taking her striking orbs of his own, even as she reached into her pocket to pull out a cellphone.

Giving Leon a playful wink, Ada swiftly dialed some number, before speaking into the cell with an authoritative voice that brooked no argument. 

“Plans changed. Leave the package alone and proceed to the extraction point.”

The woman ended the call just like that, not waiting for any confirmations or questions, making Leon raise a single eyebrow up. “You’ve got your own team now, huh?”

The woman just shrugged her graceful shoulders, before turning and starting to walk away. “Guess we’ve both moved up in the world, Leon. Catch you later, then!”

“Sure…”

As the striking woman in black and red faded from view, Leon’s eyes returned back to the nightclub, even though his thoughts would linger on that particular person for the rest of the night.

 

***

 

Now inside La Rose Noire, Ethan was taken aback by the beauty and the sheer classiness of the place, as well as an energetic music that was saturating it. The colorful patrons only added to the overall upbeat atmosphere.

The club’s interior was done with a no short amount of grandeur; the whole place was split into two tiers. 

The large ground floor area served the majority of the guests, both as a dance floor as well as for a more relaxed, seated entertainment. Upon the slightly elevated and enclosed dance area, illuminated by a myriad of multicolored and rapidly shifting lights, the happy patrons were eagerly letting it all out. A number of private, lavishly-decorated rooms were lining the edges of the club. 

Presumably acting as a VIP area, an elevated platform towered above the celebrating masses. Ornate, Corinthian-style columns supported the platform, giving it a noble vibe; several mean-looking bouncers kept careful watch on a singular glass staircase leading to the VIPs.

Ethan could only scratch his head at the apparent segregation in an already elite establishment. Assumingly, everyone present here was cream of European society. The man briefly wondered what was the criteria for separating those below from the fortunate few above. Was it closer ties to the enigmatic owner or merely relative wealth?

That train of thought was promptly stopped as a stunningly curvy brunette woman passed close by, making Ethan’s eyes unwittingly drop down to gape at her barely covered, shapely rear.

The grip on his forearm suddenly tightened - almost painfully so, making the man’s head shoot up and stare straight ahead.

 

Without any further incident, the small company proceeded towards an unoccupied leather coach at the edge of the lower tier. As they seated themselves, Ethan took a moment to glance at his companions.

Chris had a perfectly neutral expression, yet his sharp eyes were working the crowd furiously, trying in vain to locate the person of interest.

Bela, Cassandra and Dion had an excited spark in their eyes, even as they tried to maintain their composure.

Daniela, however, appeared not much different from a young child who's been taken to an amusement park for the first time in her life. The redheaded Dimitrescu’s wide-open, unfamiliarly viridian orbs soaked every little detail this newest, amazing environment had to offer. With her mouth slightly open in awe, the youngest vampire sibling simply couldn’t get enough of all the gorgeous dresses the women were wearing; the colorful, shifting lights; the peculiar mix of internal architecture.

Smiling gently at her youngest sister, but barely able to contain her own amazement, Bela quietly asked Chris a question that was burning on all of their minds.

“So...what now, Chris?”

The captain merely smirked, as he beheld their awe-struck expressions.

“The meeting is scheduled to take place in an hour… for now… act natural, while I wait here. Disregard that. I’ll wait by the counter, instead - a better observation spot.”

Having said that, Chris stood up and briskly walked towards the bar, immediately ordering an alcoholic drink of some kind.

“I suppose we should just...have fun?” Ethan attempted meekly, yet that was exactly what the rest of them were waiting for.

“Fun..?” Daniela mumbled out, as if not believing her luck.

Bela, unable to hold her own adoration for the redhead’s undeniable cuteness, just cooed as she pinched her cheek, before offering advice on how to achieve that aforementioned fun. 

“Perhaps it's time you put all the dancing practice you went through to an actual use, dearest sister?”

Hearing that, Dion perked up, before sheepishly addressing Daniela. “You dance, my lady?”

Not meeting his eyes, the girl snickered as she answered. “Please...just Daniela is fine… and I am not sure you can call my spastic gyrations ‘dancing’… but I try my best, heh!”

“I think that description fits what the people on the dance floor are doing right now, anyway. Shoo, already, you two.” Cassandra’s lack of tact was somehow an endearing feature at this moment, as she could not suppress a gentle smile aimed at her sister. With a wide grin of his own, Dion offered a single hand to Daniela, which the girl shyly accepted, before following him to the dance floor.

Cassandra’s amused smile shifted to a displeased frown quite fast, however. “Ugh… my throat is so dry… who I wouldn’t kill for some delicious man-blood right about now...”

Bela glanced at the brunette’s with mild annoyance. “Cass, not here!” Cassandra utterly ignored her older sister, instead fixing her playful glare on Ethan.

“Why don’t you be a good little man-thing and bring me some tequila? I doubt they have freshly-harvested blood on the menu, after all…”

Bela glanced at Ethan in curiosity, genuinely interested in how he would react to the rude demand. Ethan himself felt the need to reassert himself, as Cassandra was bound to walk all over him, if he’d allow it. With a grin, the man made a remark in good spirits.

“And here I assumed that a daughter of esteemed Lady Dimitrescu would know some manners!”

At his playful taunt, Bela happily played along. “Apparently, not all of us do, Ethan! Daniela does call our fiery sibling Crassandra for a reason, after all…”

“You..!” Cassandra narrowed her brown eyes as she all but hissed at Bela. The blonde sister merely smirked, as a delicate digit made a waving motion at the brunette’s face.

“Prove us wrong, then!”

Cassandra merely scoffed as she folded her arms and turned her face away, to gaze at some painting on a wall next to her. After a few moments of silence, the woman sighed but let out what sounded like a genuine request.

“Ethan… would you be a dear and bring me some tequila, please?”

The man smiled, satisfied. “Sure thing, Cass.”

“And a glass of red wine, preferably fruity, for me, please.”

“Of course.”

Ethan nodded, but lingered for a moment to give a small peck to Bela’s cheek, making the woman giggle in contentment. 

 

Joining Chris at the bar counter, Ethan ordered the requested drinks, as well as some whiskey for himself. A little bit not gonna get anyone drunk and we need to keep up appearances anyway…

“We sure got ourselves into one strange mess, haven’t we?”

Chris addressed Ethan, making the father let out a sigh, before answering.

“Yeah… all this bullshit cat and mouse game… can’t wait for it to be over with.”

Chris only smirked, before motioning with his eyes at the two sisters lounging on their coach. “I meant them.”

Ethan’s eyes widened as comprehension dawned on him. “Oh.”

The three drinks he had ordered came up, as well as the outrageous price tag. Grumbling in annoyance, the father forked up the required cash before returning to their little table.

The girls - both of them - accepted their drinks with gratitude, making Ethan briefly muse about Cassandra’s newfound manners. A quiet yet pleasant conversation ensued, yet it was soon cut short by another motion from Chris. With a gentle smile, the man went back towards the counter, yet a peculiar scene made him take a small pause to observe it.

Gripped by pure joy, Daniela was spinning Dion around - his feet lifted off the floor. As amusing as the scene was, it was also eyebrow-raising, since a slender girl lifting a bigger man, with apparently no effort, was not a common sight.

Seeing the number of fellow dancers gawking at them. Dion was quick to get Daniela to put him back on solid ground again, while laughing sheepishly and loudly making an excuse on the spot, not forgetting to use her alias for tonight.

“Damn, Diana, that weightlifting hobby of yours is really paying off!”

The gawkers quickly lost interest, while Ethan breathed a sigh of relief at the redheaded man’s sharp wit as well as Daniela’s choice of attire. Were her lithe arms visible, such an excuse would not have been swallowed so easily.

Chris didn’t hesitate to inconspicuously motion towards three different groups - occupying coaches in opposite corners, as Ethan approached him. The shorter man’s breath got caught in his throat as he took in the details.

The first group consisted of three Caucasian, mean-looking males, exuding a sense of silent menace.

The second was made of two males and two females, all of whom appeared to be of Asian descent. They seemed somewhat less rough, yet no less deadly than the first group.

The only thing the two groups shared in common was their hawk-like gazes, directed at the VIP area.

“Our ‘friends’ - the Russians and the Chinese.”

“Are they going to be a problem, you think?”

“Possible, yet I think it's more likely than our friend the defector is simply playing hard to get. China has been mingling with the Connections themselves and I really doubt that he is particularly eager for famous Russian hospitality. The man has to realize that his best long-term prospects lie with us.”

Finally, the third group Chris motioned towards - which consisted of an interesting mix of genders and nationalities stood up after receiving a call, and headed for the exit. These people had an aura of danger, and Ethan was quite glad that they were departing without causing any trouble, yet Chris did not even mention who they were supposed to be, despite tracking their every movement with his keen eyes.

 

As the dangerous-looking people faded from view, a comfortable silence ensued and after a minute or two, Ethan was about to head back to the girls. Before he could do so, however, Chris’ eyes narrowed, and Ethan could see why as he followed the older man’s gaze.

A pair of young, objectively handsome men had approached Bela and Cassandra and were now having what appeared to be a pleasant conversation with them.

Before too long, the Dimitrescu pair stood up and followed the young men to the dance floor. As if to spite Chris and Ethan, the music changed from energetic to a more slow-paced, almost romantic song.

Chris’ mouth went into a thin line as one man put his hand over Cassandra’s slim waist. Ethan’s fists clenched as another had his arms all over Bela’s back.

Neither Chris nor Ethan missed a mischievous smirk the brunette Dimitrescu shot their way, as she swirled around with her newest suitor.

Whether by chance or design, the dancing pairs inevitably edged closer and closer towards the bar’s counter, where the two grumpy men watched them with sullen expressions.

Once the girls and their dance partners were in earshot, Ethan could tell that they were conversing in fluent French - with happy smiles on their faces as they discussed topics in a language Ethan couldn’t comprehend.

In an uncharacteristic fit of jealousy Ethan downed his whiskey in one go, before slamming the glass against the counter and marching right towards the blonde that had stolen his heart.

Overtaken by possessive rage, Ethan spewed out words were almost akin to growling, completely butchering the proper pronunciation.

“Excuse me, monsieur - this mademoiselle is taken for this evening!”

To his credit, the young man with slick hair done in a stylish pony-tail did not let go of his catch without a fight, as he responded with no small amount of derision in his accented English.

“Why don’t you go look for someone your age, gramps?”

Fuming, Ethan was about to come with a biting retort of his own - ready to start a fight even, yet Bela’s calming presence came to stand in between the two men, a gentle hand on each of their shoulders.

“Sorry, Louise - Harry is my date for the night… but maybe we can catch up later…” The blonde vampire proceeded to place a quick peck on Louise’s cheek, making blood boil in Ethan’s veins.

Completely befuddled - almost enraged even - by Bela’s response, Ethan struggled to remember that Harry was supposed to be him for this night. Gritting his teeth in envious anger, Ethan grabbed Bela by her arm, only to drag her into an unoccupied private room.

 

Locking the door behind them, the man’s wide brown-gray eyes were firmly upon her own blue ones.

“Catch up later? What the hell, Bela?”

The woman gazed at him with mirth, even as she spoke in a calm and composed tone.

“Louise and his friend Jules approached us themselves - both of them are local boys who frequent this place. I thought that we could get close to them to learn a little more about the club and its owner. Advance the mission, you know.” With mock surprise, the woman widened her eyes even as she hid her mouth behind her palms. “Why...were you...by any chance… jealous ?”

The man didn’t quite buy that excuse as he could - somehow - vividly picture Cassandra leaping at the opportunity to make Chris jealous, and convincing Bela to play along. Nevertheless, Ethan’s only response was to assault her delectable neck with his lips. At the sensual contact, Bela let out a small moan of delight, even as she muttered out a question. “Do you remember what I told you back on the yacht?”

The man paused in his treatment of her neck to grunt out a reply, his ill-mood from before vanishing completely. “You’ve told me a lot of things on that poor yacht, Bells.”

“You’re mine .” The blonde Dimitrescu clarified, making the man shudder from the intensity of her spoken word, before she finished that thought. “But that doesn’t work one way only. I am yours . No smooth-talking French youth is going to change that, Ethan.”

The passion of her voice awoke the man’s hunger. Not thinking clearly, Ethan slammed his lips against her own - his tongue immediately demanding entrance, which she granted.

Before too long, however, Bela broke their kiss, only to roughly shove Ethan away - once again demonstrating her superior strength as such a simple gesture made the man plop onto the leather coach.

As she gazed at him with fiery passion, the woman muttered out a sentence that sent a shiver of anticipation down Ethan’s spine.

“I see you did not enjoy the sight of Louise and me together on that dance floor. Let me make it up to you.”

With no hesitation or sense of modesty, Bela climbed on top of a small table in the middle of the private room, before her deft fingers set to work on her blouse - unbuttoning it and removing it in seconds. The piece of clothing was promptly sent flying right into Ethan's face, making the man take a deep breath of her perfume’s fruity fragrance.

The moment he put the blouse away, his face was struck by her black bra, which was similarly discarded. Sniffing the article of clothing with unrestrained delight, Ethan’s breath was caught in his throat as he beheld the majestic visage that was now open to him.

With her hand on her hip, Bela stood straight on the glass table; her chin held high as a self-satisfied smirk graced her features. Ethan could do nothing but silently - with slightly parted lips - admire the perky breasts, the well-toned midriff, the thin yet healthy waistline of the confident woman. His hungry eyes roamed all across her exposed upper body, unable to fixate on a single feature - as all of them demanded his attention.

As if not yet satisfied with the level of attention the man was paying her, with a slow, sensual motion, Bela initiated a dance that got Ethan nether region hardened from the sheer sexiness of it.

In this moment of time, absolutely nothing else existed for Ethan in the whole wide world. Not the Connections, or his own status as an international criminal. Not Mia and the potential happy life they could’ve led. Not his numerous wounds that still ached or innumerable life-threatening situations he got into. Not the uncertain future, full of peril. Only Bela.

With bated breath, Ethan observed the sensual dance Bela was performing - just for him. His starved eyes were glued to her bouncing breasts, as she knelt only to stand up straight again, only to repeat the motion. When the woman shifted her movements to a more horizontal style - with graceful, full-body rotations, Ethan couldn’t get enough of her slender yet well-toned arms, so delicate in their erotic motions.

It took more than a single moment for his lust-crazed brain to process a husky question, directed his way. It took several more for him to realize that she was addressing him.

“Are you enjoying the view, Mr. Hastings?”

“Very much so, Ms. Taylor.”

Pleased at his wit, the woman continued the mesmerizing dance.

 

Suddenly, a familiar presence appeared in the back of Ethan’s head - a light buzzing of a sort.

Daddy, I’ve been thinking hard and that Anna woman is really sus. Could you do me a favor and…

Making an annoyed grimace that made Bela’s own eyebrows raise in surprise, Ethan thought back at the ghost who disturbed him at such an inopportune time.

Not now, Eveline! You and Rose should both be asleep now! 

But...

No buts! Sleep. NOW!

Fine, I’ll just handle it on my own!

The buzzing receded, leaving Ethan and Bela alone in the private room, once again. The perceptive woman on the table leveled a questioning gaze his way, making Ethan scratch his head as he tried to come with an excuse. After a few moments, the father merely sighed and went with the truth.

“Ugh… it was Eveline… she wanted something, but I just told her to go to sleep.”

Bela’s mouth adopted that cute ‘O’ shape. After pondering on that response for a bit, the woman inquired further. “It wasn’t something important?”

Ethan waved his hand, dismissing her concerns. “Nah, Evie just got trust issues - which makes perfect sense if you know her history… still, she will have to learn to trust people one day, might as well start now.”

 

Bela hummed, conceding the point, before kneeling on the table - getting on the same eye-level as Ethan, crawling a bit forward and slamming her lips tight against his own.

With both of them now lost in throes of lust, the duo managed to rearrange themselves on the soft leather coach of the private room, never breaking their frenzied make out session.

Seeing the desire in his eyes, Bela did not question the wisdom of performing this most intimate of acts in such an inappropriate place. Her own body betrayed her rational mind, with her core growing hotter by the second in its lust for his presence inside of it.

They were both desperate to continue where they had left it off on the ship - before it blew up.

Breaking their kiss, Ethan mumbled out a simple sentence that nevertheless made Bela’s black heart skip a beat.

 

“I love you, Bela Dimitrescu.”

 

A beat of silence passed, as the woman’s tongue betrayed her; her mind in a daze from the stupefying sentence. 

How was it possible that she - a monster who had slain countless innocent people - was loved by anyone from beyond her family? By an outsider who was to be their next victim on that fateful day, so long ago now - no less. The very idea that she was worthy of being loved appeared ridiculous to her logical mind. Yet Ethan’s words had not a speck of dishonesty in them, as his loving, beautiful eyes gazed at her with nothing but warmth and affection.

And her heart returned all the feelings the man had for her, in kind. For this brave, kind-hearted man who had evoked the best in her sisters, as well as in herself. For this foolhardy human who never met a challenge he would not dare to face when the fate of his loved ones was on the line. Her own words mirrored the conviction of his declaration.

 

“And I love you, Ethan Winters.”

 

That was all the affirmation Ethan needed and he was swift to rearrange their bodies once again, with Bela ending up laying on the soft leather sofa as she nibbled her lip and watched his every move.

Giving the gorgeous woman another loving peck, Ethan’s hands worked on sliding her skirt down her well-toned legs. His own hungry eyes did not miss any details as they desperately attempted to take in all of her majestic body.

As her own hands worked on unbuckling his belt, Ethan could not resist the temptation of exploring the bountiful expanse of her pale flesh before him with his mouth.

The innocent peck at her foundation-covered forehead was succeeded by a passionate kiss on her lovely nose, only to morph into a series of kisses down her delicious neck. Going further down, giving the delicate shoulder blade the attention it deserved, the man lingered at her right breast - his mouth eager to taste the perky nipple, before letting his tongue explore the areola. Bela’s shuddering body implied that she was quite a fan of this activity.

Giving the perfect mound of flesh one more passionate kiss, Ethan went down still, now trailing pecks down her well-toned midriff; giving her navel a lick and a puff, making the blonde woman let out a giggle.

The giggles quickly gave way to moans of pleasure, as Ethan’s famished mouth reached her crotch.

As his lips graced the most intimate place of Bela with several tender kisses, the man noted her soaking wetness - which mirrored his own eagerness completely.

Letting out almost a beastial growl, Ethan’s teeth bit into the offending fabric of her undergarments, only to drag them down her long legs.

 

The sight of Bela’s glistering-wet womanhood, as well as her whimpers of impatience send the man over the edge.

Taking down his own pants and getting his manly tool out, Ethan smirked with satisfaction at the undeniable hunger that sparked in Bela’s eyes at its sight. Yet there was a hint of uncertainty in her gaze. It made the man pause to ask the big question.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Bells?”

Bela nibbled on her lip for a bit before answering, with a shaky voice - she wanted it, badly, yet something caused her to hesitate.

 

“Yes! But…”

 

The contradictory statement brought nothing but confusion. The way she held her body, the lip gnawing, the fear in her eyes. Bela was afraid, but of what? Of being a subpar lover? The very notion was laughable. Was she afraid that he would hurt her?

Realization dawned on Ethan. Looking down at the huddled form of his lover, he understood that it was quite possibly a long time ago since she had last had sex with a man. Perhaps, a very long time. He could now finish the rest of her unspoken sentence. Something she could not say herself, for showing weakness was not the Dimitrescu way, even now.

 

“I’ll be gentle.”

 

Ethan mumbled out that sentence with so much affection that Bela eased her tense body immediately, as she nodded her head, slightly - giving her permission. “Thank you…”

Just as he promised, Ethan entered her waiting folds slowly, tenderly - merely testing the waters with his first thrusts.

Even with this tender pace, it felt absolutely divine to finally be within her. Despite never speaking about it, the man briefly entertained that very concept in his mind after their very first meeting - when she was nothing but a bloodsoaked, cannibalistic bug-monster that held him captive. That errant, alien thought was repulsive at the time, and he was disgusted with himself for even considering it, but now…

 

...now Ethan was in heaven.

 

Yet his throbbing organ wanted even more pleasure. It demanded for him to intensify the pace, to thrust deeper and harder. Nevertheless, fighting through his desire to fuck her like a wild animal, the man watched her face carefully - for her pleasure was just as important to Ethan as his own.

Bela’s ethereal visage betrayed the depth of her own euphoria from the long-awaited act she denied to herself for so long. Gone was the stress and the worry that marred her porcelain face minutes ago - only rapture remained.

Emboldened by the sight, Ethan accelerated his motions just a bit, and her audible moans as well as his own amplified pleasure was the reward. The man briefly thought about how fortunate they were that the music in the main club area was once again loud and energetic - doing a splendid job of concealing their activity.

The feeling of her nails digging into his back as she held onto him as if for dear life made the man go faster yet. The start of her contractions was mirrored by her breathless pleading: “Don’t stop…”

The man grinned, feeling his own orgasm close by and forehead sweaty. With a final, powerful thrust, they both came - nearly at the same time.

 

“Bela…”

“Ethan!”

 

The intensity of that orgasm made the man’s breath leave his lungs and strength abandon his limbs. With his member still inside of her, the man plopped right on top of Bela; with their foreheads touching, the man could only gaze into her orbs. The love he felt for this strange, mutated woman in this moment was something he struggled to put into thoughts, but it was an avalanche of emotions. In this very instant, the man made himself a mental promise.

 

No matter what, I will protect you, Bela. With everything I have. With every single fiber of my being. I will protect you and yours.

 

The dreamy gaze Bela graced him in return implied a similar mental process going through that bright blonde head of hers.

Suddenly, the two lovers were interrupted by a loud bang against the private room’s door, followed by Cassandra's frustrated voice. “We are done here, lovebirds! Let’s get going!”

 

Ethan sighed as he tenderly caressed Bela’s cheek with his right hand. Giving the woman’s full lips one more loving kiss - which she returned eagerly, Ethan and Bela started their preparations to take the plunge right back into that uncaring cold world of theirs.

 

***

 

Seeing Ethan so unceremoniously drag Bela into a private room made Chris grin, yet he did not hurry to repeat the procedure with Cassandra. Even though his hands itched to forcefully separate the pompous-looking frenchman from his woman, the captain’s rational mind reminded him that she was no such thing.

As much as he enjoyed his flings with her, and as much as he was sure that she enjoyed them herself, they were not a couple. Friends with benefits, perhaps. Regardless, he was not going to dictate whom she could embrace with. If she wanted to try her luck with some young punk, he's not going to be in her way.

Relaxing his tense posture somewhat, the large man attempted to enjoy his drink and several minutes went in relative peace and quiet. It did not last for too long, however, as Cassandra whispered something into her suitor’s ear. The French man responded with a chuckle, as well as by squeezing her tight ass. Seeing the punk’s vulgar gesture, followed by a taunting glare from Cassandra - directed right Chris’ way - made the captain grit his teeth in silent fury. 

Suddenly, a sound of cracking glass, followed by a spike of pain in his hand made him glance towards the appendage in question. Chris could only stifle a curse upon seeing the glass crushed in his deathly grip, with some fragments now embedded in his skin - drawing specks of blood.

Scoffing in both irritation and frustration, the captain made a motion to remove the shards as a presence came to tower over him, with a gruff voice to match the hulking frame.

“Richard Hastings?”

It took a moment too long for Chris’ liking to recall that this was his name for the evening. Either he was finally going rusty or a certain brunette's mindgames were getting to him. Goddamn Cassandra…

Mentally cursing himself for allowing that woman to get to him, while on the job - no less, Chris turned his gaze towards the mountain of a man that was glaring down on him. A bouncer, if the brute’s uniform was any indication. Despite the likely enormous difference in muscle mass between them - indeed, Chris was not sure that he could take on this goliath in terms of raw power even during his prime - the captain’s tone was one of bored curiosity, not meek submission the bouncer was likely used to.

“That’s right. Is there a problem?”

The bouncer struggled to speak in English, so Chris wasn’t worried about him figuring out that his own accent was distinctly not British.

“No problem at all. Monsieur Dubois would like to speak with you, however.”

Chris wasn’t sure about what to think at hearing the club owner’s name. Yet the invitation-bearer imposing bulk, as well as several other bouncers now glaring right at him implied that refusal might not go over too well with the locals.

With a resigned sigh, the captain nodded and followed the brute to the VIP area. Passing the dancers, Chris noted that Cassandra glanced at him with worry and apparently was about to make a motion to rejoin him - completely forgetting about her newest suitor. Chris dissuaded her from doing so with a shake of his head. The brunette Dimitrescu frowned, yet returned her attention back to the young man at her side - with remarkably less mirth in her eyes.

 

The lavish opulence of the VIP area - filled with expensive works of arts, was lost on the hardened B.S.A.A. captain, who took note of positioning of guards, instead.

Before long, Chris came to stand before a tall, well-built, middle-aged man with a chiseled jaw and piercing grey eyes. The owner of the club - Gerard Dubois glared at Chris with open derision, before scoffing and speaking in perfect English.

“Mr. Hastings… I see you’ve gained some weight over the years since the last time I've had the pleasure of your distinguished company. As well as 20 or so centimeters of height...impressive.

Chris smirked, not missing a beat with his response.

“I’ve been eating my veggies.”

The owner tsked at Chris, before turning away to admire a painting, talking at him all the while.

“Ah, you Americans and your crass humor. I hope you do realize that the only reason I am not having your body disposed of in Paillon is our mutual acquaintance.”

“I’ve figured as much.”

Dubois turned back to glare at him with undisguised malice, asking a question Redfield knew he had to answer to go anywhere further.

“That last part can still happen at a single word from me.” The sound of knuckle cracking, coming from the huge bouncer from behind Chris underlined the threat. “What happened to the real Hastings and his brothers?” 

Chris eagerly provided the answer to that question.

“They are perfectly fine, if a bit frustrated, since their driver just keeps getting ‘lost’.”

Dubois made a mocking clapping motion, as if to say well played, yet spoke nothing further on the matter, instead he ended the clapping with a dramatic wave.

 

At that sign, an unassuming man stood up from his coach in a corner of the VIP lounge, before briskly moving right next to the captain, while offering his hand for a greeting.

“Thanks, Gerard. We are even now.”

Gerard Dubois scoffed, waving them both away. “After this night is done, I’d advise either of you against ever showing your faces again around these parts.”

The perfectly-average, boring-looking man simply smirked at the thinly-veiled threat, before fully turning his attention to the captain.

“James Sallow, a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Redfield.”

The captain gave the shorter man a genuine smile, while accepting the handshake, happy to be done with the charade.

“Likewise, Mr. Sallow. Shall we get down to business?”

The defector nodded, a peculiar spark of grim determination in his eyes.

“Indeed. Time is against us, I believe. Gather your people and let us depart - there is much for us to discuss. I trust you have my money?”

“The briefcase waits for you in our car.”

As they took the staircase down from the VIP area, Chris felt slight discomfort at the glares he received from the Russian and Chinese party - clearly, the foreign agents recognized him, as well as his partner as their prize. The captain only hoped that they were not sore losers and would not try anything rash right here. To their credit - they apparently weren’t, as both groups merely stood up and briskly walked towards the exit. Still, Chris couldn’t help but ponder aloud.

“What is really necessary for you to reach out to them, as well?”

James answered without missing a beat.

“Naturally. A man needs to have options, especially in a job as perilous as mine. I am not going to put all my eggs in one basket - not until I see that it takes me seriously.”

Chris smirked at that, before noting the obvious. “I take it you were impressed by our little party here?”

The smaller man shuddered slightly, before responding. “Oh yes… The Dimitrescus and Mr. Winters were an...unexpected yet welcome addition to what I imagined the Americans would send. They have...proved their mettle in my eyes, so to speak.”

 

At that point, Cassandra, who now stood at the edge of the club by herself - her suitor nowhere in sight - spotted both Chris and James and promptly rushed to join them. As the brunette Dimitrescu approached the pair, her sharp senses could not have possibly missed the bloodied hand the captain now sported.

Hilariously to Chris himself, the intimidating woman’s stomach rumbled in hunger as her nostrils twitched at the likely-delicious scent of his vital fluid. A bit less amusing was the fact that Cassandra proceeded to unceremoniously grab his palm before having her mouth all over it, making sure to lick off every single speck of, mostly dried by now, blood.

Bemused, Chris questioned the whereabouts of her newest suitor. Cassandra responded in between her aggressive licking, even as she glared daggers at his own newest companion.

“Gone. Got scared after I showed him some pictures on my phone, I guess. These weren’t even that bloody.”

Before the captain could go into a heartfelt laughter at that revelation, Cassandra left his, now pristinely clean hand, alone, only to stomp towards James. Standing up to her full, impressive height, the fearsome woman glared down at the shorter man with nothing but malice.

The threatening tirade that followed made even Chris gulp.

“Look here, you little fucking rat. Since I can see from your beady little eyes that you know who I am, I am gonna skip the pleasantries. I don’t care who the fuck you think you are, but know this - if you betray us like you did your previous owners, I will find you no matter where you hide. I will hang you by your own intestines as I’ll drain your body dry, while stuffing your slit throat full of flesh-eating worms. And the kicker? I know how to keep you alive and screaming all throughout that wonderful procedure.”

James visibly paled at her vivid descriptions, delivered in a hissing tone. To his credit, however, he stood his ground and his response was done in a mostly composed tone.

“As long as my demands are being met, none of you will have any troubles from me, Miss Dimitrescu.”

Clearly not satisfied with that response, Cassandra’s eyes widened in fury at the man’s lack of submission. Before the situation could escalate further, Chris intervened.

“Everything is going according to plan, Cass. Go get your sisters and the men attached to them and let’s get back to the cars.”

Chris’s calming tone had a truly magical effect on the fiery brunette, who immediately relaxed her tense, aggressive posture and went to do as told. Soon, the gang was reunited, though nobody could miss neither Bela and Ethan’s flushed faces, nor Daniela and Dion’s glowing ones. Chris was genuinely happy that at least his friends apparently had a hell of an evening.

 

As their company left the club without an incident and drove on its way towards the villa, Chris felt a sense of unease from his front passenger seat, even as he beheld the glorious sight that was provided by driving through the midnight Nice.

Everything is going smooth… perhaps too smooth? Nah… I am just thinking too hard about that.

Dismissing the unwarranted concerns, Chris relaxed into his comfy passenger seat as he felt firm yet gentle hands tenderly massaging his broad shoulders. Letting out a soft moan of pleasure from the caressing motions of the backseat passenger, Chris felt his worries melt.

Cassandra can be surprisingly considerate and even...dare I say… nice, when she wants to be…

 

The rest of their ride back to the safehouse proceeded in relative peace and quiet; with Chris spending it pondering upon the apparently bright future. Once they brought down The Connections and their benefactors, he was bound for a nice and long vacation...somewhere warm - maybe Hawaii? Perhaps even with a partner at his side…



***

 

“Wake up, Rosie.”

“Mhmm… go away Evie, I am tired…”

“Wake up, sleepyhead! Our good-for-nothing daddy doesn't wanna help me, so we have to take it into our own hands!”

 

With an annoyed grunt, the tiny girl opened her tired eyes, only to beheld Eveline, standing near her bed.

“Mmm… what do you want?”

“A favor…”

Seeing her normally joyful friend adopt a serious, somber expression, Rosie stood up from her bed, giving the ghost her full attention - sleep quickly leaving her eyes.

“What favor?”

Eveline inspected the floor panels carefully as she meekly mumbled out a most peculiar and unnerving request.

“Go to the kitchen, please.”

“Okay…”

Rose went down, as instructed. On their way to the kitchen, the duo passed the living room, where Lady Dimitrescu was completely absorbed into an ornate book of some kind.

With her tiny feet not making any sound, the girl got to the kitchen undetected; the few remaining adults in the safehouse were either asleep or on watch elsewhere.

“What now?”

Eveline sighed, before pointing towards the items of interest.

“Take a glass and a knife.”

Again, the youngest Winters simply obeyed. It was a bit tricky to gather the items with her diminutive stature, but after some careful stool manipulation, the smart girl managed to achieve her goal. The next command sent chills running down her spine, however.

“Cut your wrist - right here,” Eveline demonstrated where, exactly “And try to collect the blood into the glass.”

“What? I am not doing that…” Rose gaped at Eveline in horror, suddenly uncomfortable from holding the sharp tool. The ghostly sister scoffed, before explaining the situation.

“Look. That Anna servant is super odd. There is something definitely wrong with her. Your blood - which carries my cells - will allow me to poke in her head a little bit. And don’t worry - any cut you’ll inflict on yourself - I’ll heal it in moments.”

“You wanna infect Anya… but daddy said that’s a very bad thing to do!”

Again, Eveline just scoffed, as she folded her arms. “Not infect… at least not for long. If she is innocent, she will be fine, believe me! The worst that’s gonna happen to her is a teensy fever as her body forces me out on itself.”

Rose was still unconvinced, with her tiny mouth set in a thin, angry line. Eveline upped her game. “Look, nobody gonna get hurt if I am wrong… but if I am right, daddy will call us heroes! We will be the ones to save the day!”

The blonde daughter started to yield to her elder’s logic, yet demanded one more reassurance. “You promise that you won’t hurt her?”

The ghostly girl stepped forward, offering a single pinky finger.

“Pinky promise.”

With some hesitation, Rose wrapped her own respective digit around Evie’s pinky, conceding to the taller girl’s demands.

Done with that ritual and with understandable anxiety, Rose brought the knife right next to her wrist. Eveline was quick to offer another reassurance, in a gentle, sisterly voice.

“It’s alright, Rosie, I won’t let you get really hurt, I swear it.”

“Okay…”

With a wince, Rose made a shallow cut and the precious crimson liquid was quick to trickle down into the cup the girl was holding, though some of it dripped down on the floor.

Whimpering in pain, Rosie waited until Eveline decided that enough Winters blood had been spilled and sealed the small wound. It still hurt…

“You’re a true hero, Rosie… I won’t betray your trust! But...we are not done yet…”

Teary-eyed, Rose looked back at Eveline, who was quick to continue.

“I have just an idea about how we are going to get that blood inside Anna now...we will need to enlist outside assistance for that… Grandma Alcina should help us.”

“Lady Dimitresqua is scary…” Rose found the noblewoman quite intimidating, naturally. Eveline would have none of it, however.

“Nonsense! Gran is a softy on the inside, I know it!”

 

With a resigned sigh, the poor girl proceeded towards the living room. Approaching Lady Dimitrescu slowly and cautiously, the girl greeted her meekly.

“Lady Dimitresqua… I am sorry, but we need your help.”

“Shouldn’t you be in bed like a good girl? Also, It’s Dimitrescu, dear…” Alcina glanced from her book to behold Rose’s sorry state. “Oh my!”

There was nothing but surprise in her wide amber orbs as she took in the child’s frame: the bare feet in her nightgown, the bloodied arm clutching a knife, a glass of blood and swollen eyes.

“What has happened to you, child? Did you… cut yourself!?”

Alcina disregarded her book in a heartbeat, before hovering over Rose - inspecting her for damage, even as she awaited a response.

“I am fine, Lady Dimitrescu...but we need your help! Me and Eveline...she says it's very important…”

Taking the knife from Rose’s unresisting fingers, Alcina could only demand clarification. “Help you with what, pray tell?”

Eveline was quick to propose her plan, which Rose faithfully repeated.

“Eveline thinks that Anna is a bad person who wants to do us harm, and so she wants to find out for sure - by using my blood to ‘poke around in her head’. Could you...please mix this blood with some wine and offer it to her? She won’t refuse you, for sure!”

Inspecting Rosie’s arm and finding nothing but scar tissue there, Alcina cursed under her breath as she muttered something about already having enough inane plots of her daughters, yet gave in, in the end.

“Will that get you back into your bed, where you’re supposed to be at this hour, young lady?”

“Yes!”

“Fine then.”

With a resigned sigh, Alcina took the offered cup of blood, before escorting Rosie back to her bed, tucking her in and closing the door to the child’s room.

Winters better be grateful to me for this!

Swallowing the indignity of acting as a servant for a servant, Alcina browsed through the villa’s modest assortment of wine bottles - there were only two of them, in fact. Scoffing at the plebeian beverages and bemoaning the lack of her own Sanguis Virginis, Alcina selected the bottle.

Mixing the blood with wine, the Dimitrescu matriarch couldn’t help but wonder at this most ironic and peculiar twist of fate, even as she marched towards the servant’s room.

Notes:

So this was a pretty lengthy chapter, and a lengthier yet delay, yet I am quite happy with how it came out, in the end!
I'd love to hear your thoughts on it - feel free to comment on which part you liked the most, or the one you felt was lacking!
As always, I appreciate any kind of feedback, and if you have some suggestions or opinions to share, be my guest :)

Hopefully the next chapter will take me faster to write, but regardless of that, I wish everyone a great week! Stay safe out there!

Chapter 34: ...the Better We See...

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Ethan stumbled into his bed, utterly exhausted. His day/night cycle lately was likely unhealthy in the extreme, and combined with long days, longer nights and all-encompassing chaos, a proper, eight-hour rest was a luxury.

Therefore, the moment the gang arrived back to the safehouse villa as their club outing was successfully concluded, Ethan had promptly excused himself - not forgetting to give his lovely Bela one more passionate goodnight kiss, as well as to check up on Rose - who had appeared soundly asleep in her own bed. It was almost 2 AM when he fell into a deep slumber, full of pleasant dreams. 

Perhaps too pleasant, as he found his manhood rock hard upon awakening at 12 PM. Still, the invigorating rest was exactly what his body craved and the man was ready for the big day ahead...after taking care of his urgent morning’s business.

Whistling a joyful tune, Ethan somehow felt like the happiest man alive today - which was quite baffling, considering his many woes - past and present. Checking Rosie’s room, the father wasn’t surprised at the fact that her bed was unoccupied and neatly made.

 

Out of the bedroom and down the stairs, the father was momentarily stopped by what sounded like Moonlight Sonata - coming from the 2nd floor of the large villa. Curious by nature, the intrigued man proceeded to check up on the sound and was baffled to see a full-sized Grand Piano in one of the rooms. B.S.A.A. must have gotten rich indeed to be able to afford luxurious safehouses such as this one…

The pianist herself was none other than Jill Valentine, yet she was not the only occupant of the music room. With bated breath and apt attention, the youngest Dimitrescu sibling observed the musical performance - her keen gaze never leaving Jill’s deft fingers as they worked the keys with envious amounts of precision and grace.

As Jill finished the piece, Daniela exploded into a thundering applause, with Ethan joining in. Even though the perceptive redhead had noticed the father the moment he peeked his blonde head into the room, her attention was wholly on the pianist, as she delivered a heartfelt compliment - while swiping away a few glistering specks from her expressive molten gold eyes.

“Oh, I always shed a tear or two when somebody plays that piece… But ah, what a beautiful performance, Ms. Valentine! Maybe even Bela could learn a thing or two from you!” Daniela gave Ethan a conspiratorial wink, before adding, “But don’t tell her I said that! Ha!”

Ethan returned the wink, while placing his index finger to his lips, making the girl grin in mirth. Jill herself glanced at them with some amusement, before addressing the earlier compliment.

“I have played since I was a little girl… Even though... the circumstances'' Jill noted that word with particular pain momentarily taking over her expression, “forced me to put that hobby on hold for more than a few years, I now like to indulge on occasion - it reminds me of better times… and my shrink tells me it's also good for my mental health.”

The brunette pianist finished her response with a smirk, but despite her upbeat tone Ethan could plainly see that the woman had gone through her own fair share of unspeakable horror - just like the rest of them, perhaps even moreso. 

“I’d love to play a couple of happy songs I know for Rosie! That’ll cheer her up!”

Daniela’s joyful voice brought Ethan out of his musings about Miss Valentine’s troubled past, bringing him back to the no-less troubled present. At the mention of Rose needing to be cheered up, Ethan felt a spike of anguish pierce his heart at his failure as a parent, once again.

“Where is Rosie?”

Feeling the pain in his voice, Daniela’s face fell a bit, but she helpfully provided the answer, nevertheless. “I think she’s with Bela - sis wanted to read her our favorite bedtime storybook!”

Nodding his thanks, the father departed the music room, leaving the two ladies to their piano exhibition. Not having asked the precise location of Bela, the father had to wander the reasonably large villa for a minute or two before finally locating them at the end of the second floor.

 

The wholesome sight made the father grin wide as he took in his loved ones. Bela was lounging in a well-furnished window nook, with soft pillows surrounding her from every side and the gorgeous view of Nice available to her perusal. Rosie was tightly nested on her lap, her intrigued eyes not leaving the contents of the book Bela was holding in a way so that they both could see it. Their position simply could not be any cozier, at least Ethan presumed so.

 

“Long ago, a young girl went with her mother to pick berries for her father who was hard at work.

But the forest greeted them with a dark, cold silence, the bushes empty.

Yet, determined to find the berries, the rascal broke free from Mother’s grasp and vanished into the trees.

Mother’s worried cries faded fast as the girl ran on; over vine, and under branch and into the forest deep.”

 

Instead of immediately approaching them, Ethan leaned against the wall and simply enjoyed the sight of his daughter having some supremely comfy storytime with her vampiric stepmom.

Bela’s amber orbs glinted his way and a smile immediately graced her full lips, yet she did not interrupt her melodic and passionate storytelling. While Ethan wasn’t a particularly big fan of the creepy-ass story Bela was reading, he found himself mesmerized by her soft, expressive voice and listened to the full story that he recalled Mia the Impostor had once read. 

 

“With rampant rage, Father fought the Witch while Mother’s loving touch shattered the dark enchantment.

But the Witch was strong and Father yelled, “Save our daughter!”

So Mother bore their child to safety as the forest was consumed.

Even now, the burnt forest is a grim reminder of Father’s sacrifice.

To this day, any child who stares too long into the charred wasteland will be haunted by nightmares of getting lost while picking berries.”

 

As Bela finished the story, Ethan found himself frowning. Somehow it all sounded awfully familiar… Before Ethan could ponder on it, Bela finally gazed right at him, while softly speaking to the girl on her lap.

“Look, little one - daddy is finally up!”

The girl did not waste a second in vacating the warm lap, only to rush her dad, jumping into his eager embrace. “Good morning, daddy!” - which the father was only happy to provide, as he held his child close to his chest.

“Hey, honey! I see Auntie Bela is reading you a scary story…”

At that, Bela actually scowled a little, before noting with an index finger raised up.

“It’s not scary, Ethan. It's a story about the perils of blind curiosity and courage winning the day. It’s a local favorite back home!”

Again, the father could not help but ponder on the curious parallels depicted in this story… It strongly reminded him of his own ‘adventure’ in Romania, and the creatures he has met there. “Doesn’t it… remind you of anything?”

The woman adopted a questioning expression, as she curiously glanced at the book she still held. “Remind me of what? There are plenty of stories like that one in this book.”

Ethan tried a more direct approach. “Well… the four creatures the girl meets sound awfully like the Four Lords of the Valley, if you ask me: Dimitrescu, Beneviento, Moreau and Heisenberg.” Bela’s eyes widened in shock - as if she had never even considered it, but now could see it plainly as he spoke the thought out loud. “The witch is obviously Miranda, while the father and the girl…”

Ethan paused, gently caressing Rose’s blonde locks as he chewed on his lip and finished his thought. “Well… they could be us? Except I didn’t die in the end.”

Rosie added her own impression, in a quiet voice. “I liked the story...except when the girl’s daddy died… I am glad you didn’t die, daddy!”

Rosie's honest words made Ethan chuckle and ruffle her hair. The girl giggled as he responded, “Hah, that makes two of us, honey!”

“Make that three.” Bela immediately replied, while adopting a pensive look as her thumb fumbled with her lip. The woman’s whole attention was now fixated on the beloved storybook she carried all the way from Romania - now gazing at the object as if seeing it in a new light. Ethan couldn’t help but ask the question that was now burning on his mind.

“When was that book published, Bells?”

The blonde Dimitrescu merely shrugged her slender shoulders, before offering, “Before my time, I can tell you that much...perhaps mother knows the exact date?”

An unsettling chill runs through Ethan’s body, making the man shiver. This whole discussion raised more questions than it answered, and now they all were stumbling in the dark.

Perhaps it's all just one hell of a coincidence and I am looking too much into it? 

Before he could get completely entangled in the mysteries of the enigmatic Village of Shadows storybook, Ethan noted something that was definitely not there before - a shallow scar on Rosie’s left wrist. It looked like it was a week old, yet the father was more than sure that yesterday that patch of skin was pristine.

Putting his child back on the floor, Ethan quietly inquired about the scar, even as he carefully inspected the tiny arm. 

“Rosie, did you cut yourself, honey?”

The girl got visibly upset by the question, with her lips curling into a frown and wetness starting to glister in her eyes. She looked away, not answering.

“Rosie?”

“I made her do it.”

Out of nowhere, Eveline’s voice made Ethan’s heart skip a beat. Goddamn it, I am never getting used to this! Disregarding the shock, the second instinct was to get angry. Really angry.

“...You made Rosie cut herself?”

Ethan’s nearly inaudible hissed out whisper, as well as his gaze - directed at an empty corner forced Bela to recall Eveline’s existence. Following Ethan’s gaze, the blonde Dimitrescu narrowed her own gaze, trying her hardest to see what he could see. Unfortunately, all that was open to her view was that same, featureless corner. Letting out a sigh of disappointment, Bela focused her attention on one thing she could perceive - the father’s suddenly fearsome expression.

Eveline herself took note of Bela’s fruitless attempts to detect her, yet answered Ethan’s question - with some discomfort - the normally kind and caring man was quite scary when his baby girl was concerned.

“Just a little bit… I really needed to get into that servant’s head, and you didn’t want to help me! You just dismissed me, without even listening to what I had to say!”

Ethan’s face turned livid as his fists clenched. “What the hell, Evie!? You could’ve just waited until I’d come back and talked to me then! Why would you force Rose into your insane plots?”

“Stop it, daddy! Evie just wanted to help us! And she didn’t force me into anything!” Rosie’s own raised voice soothed some of the father’s anger - instead, he started to feel a speck of guilt for having dismissed Evie like that - like a stupid child, and not an individual worthy of respect.

Eveline herself appeared subdued and shamed, as she quietly mumbled out an apology. “I am sorry, daddy… I knew I should’ve waited for you… but I got angry… and I really, really wanted to find out what was going on in that servant’s head. Rosie - like a true hero - donated a little bit of her blood, and grandma Alcina delivered it to Anna, mixed with some wine.”

Ethan couldn’t stifle a gasp of disbelief at that. “You’ve roped Lady Dimitrescu into it, as well? Jesus…” Bela’s own amber orbs widened at that exclamation. She continued listening with rapt attention.

“Lady Dimitrescu is a bit scary… but she helped us… she was nice to me…” Rosie meekly offered, making Bela coo at the precious child. Not thinking twice, the tall woman stood up from her comfy perch, just to embrace the girl once again.

“Mother will never hurt you, precious one. Never again…” Bela’s comforting tone and gentle touch made the girl fully relax, as she smiled up at her ‘aunt’. The heartwarming sight dissipated Ethan’s anger completely, giving way to curiosity, instead.

“So… Evie… have you managed to learn anything from poking inside Anna’s mind, then? Is she some kind of an evil mastermind, here to bring about our painful demise?”

Ethan’s attempt at dramaturgy failed to evoke mirth in Evie, who simply poked her tongue out at him, before adopting a serious expression.

“Ugh...no.”

“So you’ve made Rosie cut herself and infected Anna for nothing?”

The ghostly girl immediately went defensive at that latest accusation, with her palms open wide. “No! Blood alone - especially in such small quantities - is not enough to permanently infect anyone.” Ethan suspected that to be the case, as he recalled his own Louisiana experience - when the Bakers attempted to feed him that moldy stuff, yet he felt reassured hearing Eveline admit as much. The black-haired girl continued.

“It's only really good for a look around, and only surface-depth, usually...but…”

“But..?”

Eveline huffed, as she tried hard to explain her experience inside Anna’s mind with words. “I don’t know. I never saw anything like that before - and I've poked inside the minds of over a hundred people! Most people have some kind of barriers that protect their deeper psyche, yet… Anna? Way more than that...”

The ghostly girl pondered for a few moments, before finally settling on a description. “Her mind was surrounded by a hazy mist - which is already unusual, as normally only sleeping people have something like that - while she was awake... But the really strange thing was further still - as I got closer to its center, It’s like her core was enclosed by a stone wall . I couldn’t even peek inside. I have absolutely no idea what’s behind it, or what she is thinking about.”

From her vivid descriptions and pensive looks, Ethan could only stare at his adopted daughter with a slack jawed expression, attracting Bela’s attention. 

“What’s she saying?”

Ethan faithfully relayed the subject of conversation, making the blonde woman curl her lips in surprise. “How curious!” After several moments of musings, Bela offered a possible solution to the unusual phenomenon Eveline experienced.

“I’ve read somewhere on the internet - fascinating invention, by the way - that recently they’ve developed a powerful anti-fungal vaccine in Russia - where Anna is from. Perhaps she is simply vaccinated, and therefore Eveline’s influence over her is severely limited.”

Ethan raised a finger up to inquiry about Eveline’s reason to be suspicious in the first place, yet amazingly Bela’s responded to that before he could give voice to even a single word.

“And that would also explain the reason for the suspicion little Evie felt towards our poor, maltreated Anna! Eveline merely sensed an organism that was inherently hostile towards her own, so there’s that!”

Everyone was stunned into silence by Bela’s passionate, yet logical delivery. Ethan scratched his head, but could not offer a counter argument, as the practice of vaccination was quite widespread after the first outbreaks that occurred more than two decades ago. Who was he to know how exactly it interacted with sentient fungal-based lifeforms? Apparently, that’s how Eveline felt herself, as she merely grunted out something unintelligible in response. 

Shrugging his shoulders, Ethan glanced at Eveline next, who stared back at him with her guilty green eyes. The man couldn’t even amass enough anger to make his question sound frightening - she was just that cute and innocent-looking in the moment.

“Will Anna not suffer any side-effects from Rosie’s blood?”

The ghostly girl promptly responded. “No! Her body will terminate all of my cells within two-three days on its own.” Evie paused for a moment, before sheepishly offering more. “There might be a little fever. A teensy tiny one. I could also forcefully expunge myself from her at any moment, but that would actually cause a painful seizure that would even paralyze her for a couple of moments, so…”

Ethan could only smirk at the phantasmic girl who was wringing her own wrists, trying to come out with a solution that would benefit the innocent servant she had slighted. Eveline had truly come a long way from a remorseless and selfish monster that he had met in Louisiana. He couldn’t be any prouder.

“Yeah, don’t do that…”

The girl nodded, but at that time the father’s stomach decided to remind him that he hadn’t properly eaten for quite a while - with a loud rumble that made Bela’s eyes glint with mirth. “Daddy sounds hungry, Rosie.” The tiny Winters nodded, and let out a lovely giggle herself.

Ethan snorted, before inquiring about their own culinary intake today. “What about you, girls? Had a nice breakfast, I presume?”

“Lady Dimitrescu made such a tasty… egg-meal with cheese!” 

Bela chuckled before correcting the term. “Mother is famous for her omelette au fromage, indeed.”

Rosie’s genuine outburst made Ethan be unable to hold back a light gasp of surprise. Somehow, he couldn’t even imagine the noble lady cooking anything herself, much less something for his own child. He’ll definitely need to thank her properly for her latest acts of kindness towards Rose.

Bela chuckled as she ruffled the girl’s hair lovingly, before placing her back on the ground. A speck of hunger in her own amber orbs made Ethan direct his attention fully towards the blonde woman. “What about you?”

Bela nibbled on her lower lip and gazed briefly but longingly at his neck, making the implication clear. A bloodless diet was not something the Dimitrescu daughters were accustomed to and after evacuating the Duke’s ship, none of them were able to satisfy their...not exactly human cravings.

“I am okay.”  Bela’s voice was quiet, and Ethan was surprised by the lack of conviction the normally composed woman displayed. Slowly approaching her, the man gently caressed her cheek, even as he sensually whispered into her ear, making the woman shudder from delight and excitement.

“No, you’re not...but I am sure we will be able to… solve the issue.”

On hearing the unspoken generous offer, Bela’s amber orbs widened, as she beheld her grinning lover. A grateful nod was all she could muster before a tiny hand tugged at the hem of her dress. “Auntie Bela, tell me another story? Please? Evie loves them, too!”

The blonde woman hummed with satisfaction, before moving back towards her comfy window nook, motioning for Rose to follow - the girl happily jogging along. 

“Sure thing, sweetie. Come here!”

Bringing the girl back to her warm lap, Bela reached for her large, ornately-decorated and likely very old and very well-read storybook. Eveline herself did not fade from view, instead choosing to sit on the floor next to the cuddling pair.

“Would you like to hear a story about a boy who could turn into a wolf?”

“Yes!”

 

Ethan lingered for just a moment longer - to simply admire the way the gentle sunlight illuminated Bela’s fair features, as she read a story to his daughters.

Even though Bela could never be Rose’s mother, for - despite all of her sins, Mia would forever remain Rosie’s true mother. Despite knowing that, Ethan could not help but consider what a wonderful stepmother Bela could be… They could be a loving family - a whole family, once again… 

Taking by the sudden overwhelming feelings of love, the father could not help but approach his cherished ones - only to place a quick peck on Rose’s forehead and Bela’s cheek, before hastily taking his leave - letting the girls have their storytime. Little did he know that Bela’s longing gaze followed his frame until it vanished downstairs.

 

Moving through the first floor’s living room, on the way to the kitchen, Ethan was greeted by an unlikely company. Dion, Emily, John and Cassandra were playing cards. The latter was winning, if the sour grimaces of the former three, as well as a large pile of chips next to the brunette Dimitrescu were any indication.

At seeing Ethan, Dion was quick to offer an overly friendly greeting towards the father. “Yo, Ethan, bro! Not an early riser, huh - understandable, honestly. Anyway, there is some leftover pizza in the kitchen, if you’re in the mood.”

“Get back to the game, carrot-man. Mhm, can’t wait to taste your blood. Youthful. Bright red. Delicious. Maaan-bloooood .” Cassandra’s voice was saturated by self-assuredness, as she dramatically licked her black lips, making the rest shudder in barely-contained fright. The stakes in that game must’ve been curious, indeed.

Even though his complexion noticeably paled, Dion settled on a shrug, as he went all in. “Game ain’t over yet, vampire goth lady. I might be the one to taste your famed family wine, after all.”

Cassandra craned her neck backwards as she gave out a loud, hearty laugh, before revealing her cards - ‘Flush’ , and giving out a mocking taunt. “Keep dreaming, whelp!” 

“Shit…” John muttered, giving up.

“Who knew Romanian vampires were so good at damn poker…” mumbled Emily, dropping her cards, as well.

Yet Dion was undaunted. With a cocky grin, the youngest person at the poker table revealed his own cards - one at a time. A six of Clubs, then six of Spades, followed by six of Diamonds and finalized with a six of Hearts. Four of a kind.

With a hiss of rage, Cassandra swept the cards off the table - clearly struggling to restrain herself from flipping the whole table, instead -  before storming off into the garden. The Hound Wolves exchanged high-fives as well as breaths of relief and cries of joy.

A distinct sound of knuckles hitting the wood started coming from the garden, intermingled with frustrated, barely-human growling.

Smirking, Ethan left the celebrating soldiers alone, as they waited for Cassandra to blow off her steam and return to their ongoing game - with a good portion of her chips going to Dion.

 

Entering the kitchen, Ethan immediately spotted the immaculately dressed Lady Dimitrescu. The noblewoman merely stared at a potted plant that occupied a small window nook. The plant in question appeared to be nothing special to Ethan - just a green shriveled thing that wasn’t watered for quite a while; yet clearly Alcina found it captivating, nevertheless.

Somehow feeling as if intruding - despite the kitchen being a shared area - the man froze at the entrance, shuffling his feet for a few moments, before offering a polite, if neutral greeting.

“Good day, Lady Dimitrescu.”

Alcina flinched at the suddenness of his voice. Her response was a measured one, delivered with her back still turned towards the man.

“And a good day to you, Mr. Winters.”

Clearly, the lady was not in the mood for smalltalk now, so Ethan simply, yet quietly - without disturbing the woman too much, proceeded to wolf down the still warm remnants of pizza that were lying on the large kitchen table.

Pepperoni was exactly what Ethan wished at that moment and lo and behold - it was exactly what was left. With gusto, the man dug in and the delicious taste made him unable to suppress a small moan of pleasure from breaking through his chewing.

That must’ve been enough to finally break Lady Dimitrescu out of her trance, as she slowly turned around to glance at the man who had stolen her eldest daughter’s heart.

“My, my, Mr. Winters… I was hoping that you would have a more refined palate than this…”

Swallowing what he had bitten off, the man merely grinned at the noble lady, before offering her a slice. “Food doesn’t have to be fancy to be tasty, my lady.”

More out of curiosity than anything else, Alcina accepted the offered piece, before inspecting it, as she held it in her gloved hand. Her lips curled in distaste at the sight of the plebeian treat.

“Ehm… I also wanted to thank you for being so nice to Rosie lately… entertaining her crazy idea yesterday, as well as preparing a breakfast for her… You didn’t have to do that.”

Alcina gazed down at him with a somber expression, as she offered a measured response to his meekly-voiced gratitude. 

“Poor child needs all the comfort she can get. It’s not easy to be separated from one’s mother at such a tender age.”

Suddenly, her expression darkened and the slice of pizza fell down from her gloved hands back into its box.

“I stood by and just watched as Rose was taken apart, you know that, Mr. Winters?”

The man froze, a bite of pizza hanging from his mouth. Alcina continued speaking in that same monotone voice.

“I did not even offer a single word of protest, as that heinous act was committed.”

Lady Dimitrescu turned away, returning back to her potted flower, even as she spoke further.

“And that was only the latest villainy. Do you know how many maids I had ordered to be drained dry - for a slightest misstep? How many tortured souls were consigned to oblivion in our dungeons? I lost count many, many years ago.”

Ethan could not even begin to guess the number. Silence was his only answer. Lady Dimitrescu gently plucked a single shriveled leaf with her gloved hand - the wilted plant surrendered it easily.

“I’d love to blame it all on the cruelty of men in my former life… or the circumstances that led to my rebirth… or Miranda herself forcing my hand… but that would hardly paint an honest picture, would it? Somewhere along the way, I had become no better than her. Worse even, as I reveled in the wanton, unnecessary cruelty I had inflicted… that my daughters had inflicted. The power… it is intoxicating, Mr. Winters. It is a blessing… and a curse.”

In a blink of an eye, Alcina’s gloved hand had clenched, crushing the withered leaf into fine powder. The lady did not hold onto the dust, instead she opened her palm up and let the air currents from the window carry it away.

“Cuba was supposed to be our second chance… but I never forgot my homeland or the atrocities committed there. Neither by myself, nor to me. Sometimes, as I would lie in my fine silken bed, sipping on finer yet wine, I wondered - did I deserve that second chance? Perhaps being buried along with Miranda in our Valley would have been a more fitting fate for me, wouldn’t you agree?”

The noble lady had turned to face Ethan once again, but at seeing conflicting thoughts rushing across the man’s eyes, merely sighed, before finalizing her monologue.

“My precious daughters are the only reason I kept going… to protect them against the world that saw them as nothing but monsters to be put down. Yet I failed to do even that. And now… how can I ever hope to be able to defend my darling lovebugs… with this... “ Alcina removed her glove, only to hatefully gaze at her own pale flesh. “...this weak body?”

Pizza was left forgotten as the speechless man’s attention was wholly focused on the Dimitrescu matriarch, who suddenly was pouring out her heart to him. Ethan couldn’t help but wonder what evoked such trust in him. Was it her genuine remorse for Rose’s mistreatment? Or does she believe that he would make a better protector for her daughters? Perhaps witnessing the kindness of strangers reminded Alcina of her past life, presumably - once free of endless horrors and callous murders?

Regardless of the reasoning behind her change of heart, Ethan observed the fragile woman in front of him, not with fear or hatred, but with compassion. For all of her monstrous deeds, there was a spark of goodness not yet extinguished in her heart. And that spark desired to walk the path of atonement.

Standing up, the man slowly moved towards the still matriarch, before taking her ungloved hand in his own, with tender care. As her amber orbs met his kind brown-gray eyes, Ethan spoke with a measured, calm tone.

“Forgive for being presumptuous, my lady, but I can see that your life could not have been easy. You’ve made mistakes along the way… committed terrible acts… Unforgivable crimes, even.” Alcina’s eyes fell at his harsh yet truthful words, but Ethan was not done. Clenching his hand around her small palm, the man continued with a suddenly upbeat tone.

“Yet… you’re still alive. Your daughters are still alive. Doesn’t that count for something? And… I may not be a certified shrink, yet even I can tell that all four of you attempt to do better by others - in your own ways. Everyone deserves a second chance, and so far I don’t think you’ve made the worst of yours.”

Lady Dimitrescu glanced back at feeling the warmth of his tone; the gentle yet firm grip he had on her hand somehow appeared to invigorate her exhausted spirit. With a smile, Ethan did not relent in his, perhaps foolish, attempt to cheer the woman who had kept him captive up.

“And don’t sell yourself or your new body short, my lady - you may yet be stronger than you think… And if that’s not enough, I would gladly lend you my own strength - for what it's worth.”

The countess took a moment to simply gaze into Ethan’s eyes - as if measuring the authenticity of the spoken words. 

Ethan could be seeing things, yet he swore a speck of wetness glinting in the countess' eyes as she mumbled out a surprisingly timid question.

“Would you help protect my daughters, Mr. Winters?”

Ethan did not need to think twice. Not when his mind was quick to conjure the smiling images of the three sisters. Bela - with her serene smile - one of kindness, comfort...and love; Cassandra - fierce and merciless towards her foes, but a stalwart ally to those who had earned her friendship; Daniela - horrible in her rage, yet innocent in her joy.

“To my dying breath.”

Alcina’s second palm placed itself over his own - the one that still clutched her right hand. The countess gave the father a small, yet genuine smile, before murmuring, “I appreciate it… Mr. Winters… more than you can know.”

Ethan returned her smile with a grin of his own. “Just Ethan is fine, my lady.”

Lady Dimitrescu gave a light scoff as the last fragment of her old life was threatened - the strict adherence to formality. Surprising even herself, she did not hold onto it for long.

“I suppose your actions have earned you the right to refer to me by my given name.” With a reserved chuckle, the countess added - with mock seriousness, “I hope you can appreciate such an exclusive privilege.”

“I can, Lady Dimi…” Alcina’s red lips curled in a small frown, making Ethan quickly correct himself. “...Alcina.”

Pronouncing the name left a strange, yet not unwelcome feeling behind. Suddenly feeling awkward, Ethan let go of her hand - with her own limbs quick to accommodate the motion.

Returning to his pizza - which was a bit cold by now, Ethan smirked at the sight of Alcina’s amber orbs lowered to gaze at the slice she had discarded previously, almost considering giving it a try, as well.

“It’s better fresh and hot, but still pretty good!”

With a resigned sigh, Alcina grabbed the slice before slowly edging it towards her mouth - as if afraid that the revolting produce would attempt to bite back. Giving it a tentative bite, the countess took several moments to chew before swallowing.

“It is… adequate.”

Finishing her slice, Lady Dimitrescu hummed in satisfaction, before suddenly grabbing a chair’s backrest for support. With Alcina’s whole posture going stiff, her eyes opening wide, sweat starting to bead on her forehead and her hands grasping the backrest tightly - it was plain that an onset of seizure or vertigo had gripped the noblewoman.

Seeing her unexpectedly unbalanced state, Ethan was quick to inquire, “Something wrong, Alcina?”

The noblewoman waved his concerns off, even as she made a motion for the door. “Just a dizzy spell, Eth.. Mr. Winters. They happen from time to time after my tenure with your caring wife. I think I'll go lie down for a bit.”

The carefree mood died quickly at the mention of Mia’s name; Alcina’s almost friendly demeanor gave way to her more characteristic detached - painfully cold - noble bearing. Ethan stood up and was about to offer help, yet Alcina dismissed the motion before it was even spoken. 

“Finish your meal, Mr. Winters. I’d like to think myself capable enough to reach my own bed, at the very least. And, perhaps we should stick to formal terms of address, for now - after all.”

Not letting the man respond, Alcina promptly departed - while making sure to stick closer to walls, for support - leaving Ethan to his cold pizza. 

 

Finishing his own slice in silence, Ethan did not let the disappointing conclusion ruin the otherwise enjoyable interaction. True, they took a step back in the end, yet not before they’ve made several forward. The harrowing experience Alcina went through in that facility was clearly something the noblewoman still struggled with and Ethan was guilty by association.

The father noted that he was fortunate to catch such an insightful glimpse into the inner workings of Lady Dimitrescu’s mind. Bela’s mother turned out to be a complex character herself - hardly a one-dimension villain he’d assumed her to be the first time he had met her - which was really not a surprise at this point.

Perhaps, given time, they might strike a peculiar friendship, yet.

 

Vacating the empty kitchen, the father wandered the halls of the villa, in search of something to do. The options were many, all were exciting in their own rights, and hours went by in a blur. Playing cards, listening to piano performances, walking in the garden and simply conversing with the colorful personalities occupying the villa, Ethan found himself genuinely surprised as he glanced outside the window and saw that it was evening already.

 

One man Ethan had not stumbled upon today was Chris Redfield, and so Ethan went to search for the large captain to ask him a simple, yet important question - what comes next for them all. 

The search was not a long one, as it appeared that Chris, as well as several unexpected men had spent the whole day inside the conference room. Entering the room in question, Ethan raised an eyebrow at the mess that was inside - pizza boxes, empty beer cans and documents were littering almost every square inch of the place.

Leon, Chris and the defector - Mr. Sallow - were all absorbed into what appeared to be a serious conversation as they leaned over a large, electronic map. Chris still took a moment to give the father a nod in greeting.

Ethan was surprised to see Sallow still present in the safehouse, as Leon had implied that they would fly back to the U.S. immediately upon return to the villa.

“You’re still here, guys? I figured you’d be half way back to the States by now.”

Leon made a displeased noise at that, with Chris explaining the reason for the delay of their departure. 

“The Dragonfly experienced a malfunction - Charlie is working on it right now.”

James Sallow scoffed, before offering his own insight. “A4 Dragonfly series are famed for their reliability. A malfunction occurring at precisely this moment sounds mighty suspicious.”

Chris folded his arms, as he took in the smaller man’s appearance. “It is still a complex machine, with a great deal of moving parts - hardly infallible. Despite its manufacturer's advertisement and promises, I know for a fact that minor malfunctions do happen, from time to time. Luckily, Charlie went through a mechanic's course, in addition to pilot training. I am sure that he will be able to rectify the issue in short order.”

“The faster - the better. We need to stay on the move if we want to remain ahead.” The defector was jittery, if his restless figure - unable to settle on a pose in his seat was any indication. Leon attempted to placate the man, by reminding him of the formidable military escort surrounding the premises. 

“Relax, Mr. Sallow! This safehouse is protected by the finest U.S. has to offer, in addition to the present company! There is no reason to feel threatened by our foes. The Connections would not dare to openly strike against us here, even if they were aware of our location. And that’s a very big if.”

The defector only scoffed at that, while glancing around the house nervously, unconvinced. “You guys have no idea, do you? The Connections are not who you should be worrying about. It's our… their client.”

“The Connections have a lot of clients… you’d have to be more specific.” Leon was not amused by the lack of details their informant provided.

The client! The one that demanded the E-001 series bioweapon production to be restarted! The one that got us into all that horrid mess with these bug-bitc…”

James wisely did not finish that sentence, as both Chris and Ethan’s eyes hardened at the obvious insult that was about to leave the man’s lips.

Who is the client, Mr. Sallow?”

As the plain-looking man gazed at them with uncertainty in his expression, Ethan felt his hands clenching into fists. Suddenly, all Ethan saw was an enemy. A person who had wanted to hurt them. A person who had wanted to hurt Rose and Bela. Cassandra’s cruel words about beating information out of him came to the forefront of his mind. 

Why should we deal with this scumbag? He only switched sides because he felt it was in his best interests to do so. For all I know, he was directly responsible for Mia’s betrayal and the attack on Dimitrescu. And now he is playing fucking games with us…

Chris appeared to be on the same wavelength as Ethan, as a scowl on his battle-hardened face made itself present.

James, seeing multiple glares directed his way, gulped and mumbled out a barely-audible answer. 

“That knowledge was above my paygrade… but… I have my suspicions.”

“Do share them.” Chris’ bark brooked no argument. 

Again, the average-height man merely glanced around the living room, as if expecting a spy or an assassin to pop out from the window or a fireplace. Several beats of tense silence followed, until - eventually James gathered enough courage to give voice to his wild-sounding theory.

“U.N. Secretary-General.”

Even Chris and Leon appeared too shocked to respond, with their jaws hanging wide open. Despite the fact that it was plainly obvious that The Connections had their people, or people who owed them favors deep within several international political and economical institutions, this newest revelation was earth-shattering for everyone present.

“Why the hell would the Secretary-General want to have a mold-monster?”

Ethan’s question shattered the silence, making James gaze at him with a curious look. Clearly, the defector was aware of Ethan’s own unnatural body at this point.

“Again, all I can offer is my theory.”

Leon motioned with hands, in a bid for the man to continue. Sallow, after massaging his temple with his fingers for a few seconds, obliged.

“It's always about the same thing, Mr. Winters. Power. I don’t know how closely you follow modern geopolitics, but the U.N. are more powerful than ever and the Secretary-General has been pushing hard for the reformation of the Security Council in recent years - to amass all the international political power in the hands of their own cabal. Yet despite the bribes, the promises, the threats - the Americans and the Russians had stopped the motions to do so hard, every single time.”

The man glanced around the room, making sure everyone was following him, as he continued. 

“Perhaps the time for words or bargaining had passed. E-002 prototypes are capable of taking over human hosts - which is something I theorize the Secretary-General would want to use.”

“Impossible. I’ve been to Louisiana. Nobody sane would mistake Bakers for normal, unaltered people. How the hell would that voting appear even semi-legit?” Ethan was quick to protest, making James sigh and rub his temples harder.

“Haven’t you been listening, Mr. Winters? E-001 - Eveline was the original, flawed creation. E-002 prototypes have been enhanced with what we have managed to gather from the blood of a person under this very same roof.”

“Jill…” Chris’ own fists now clenched until the knuckles were bone-white. The sight of the powerful punching tools made Jame’s blood chill in his veins, yet he continued his explanation, nevertheless.

“Indeed...it was not my project, yet I am familiar with the results. As loathsome as Albert Wesker was, you cannot deny his genius in the field of genetics. His P30 compound - the one Ms. Valentine was exposed to for so many years has forever altered her internal biochemistry - as I am sure you are well aware of, Mr. Redfield.”

The captain grunted, and James nodded, as he proceeded. “Our refined mold-shaping techniques, combined with the results of our research into Ms. Valentine's unique blood - which still contains trace amounts of P30 - has allowed us to create a true puppeteer. E-002 prototypes are capable of taking complete control of the human host, without altering their core personality or behavioral patterns. Perfect sleeper agents - living their own lives, yet obedient to their master - when the time comes. Or in our case - ready to vote for the resolution, instead of against it like their governments demand.”

Ethan felt his stomach churning at the depravity of it all. That someone would stoop so low as to mind-control high-standing government officials - perhaps whole delegations, just to pass along some resolution that would see that person empowered further yet. 

“And now… with the E-002 - as well as their handler - passed along to the client… We are the only ones who still remain in their way. How does it feel to oppose the most powerful human on the planet?”

A pregnant silence followed James softly-spoken words, yet the man was not done.

 

“We are not safe here. We are not safe anywhere.”

 

Ethan did not consider himself a man with a weak stomach, indeed, how could he be one - after surviving through all that filthy mess in Louisiana and Romania. Yet it seemed that this time the rabbit hole went so deep that it was mind blowing. The butterflies that were now fluttering inside Ethan’s stomach were not induced by any pleasant feelings.

As if on cue, Charlie walked into the conference room - to deliver a report on Dragonfly condition. The man’s grime-covered face was a fierce scowl, as he did so.

“It was a leaking coolant pipe, captain - just outside the sensor’s range. Had to spend hours finding the bastard… only to fix it in five minutes. We’re good to go.”

“A leaking coolant pipe? How did that happen?” Chris was quick to inquire and Charlie scratched his chin, before shrugging his shoulders, as he offered a response.

“Who knows, captain? Could be just standard wear and tear.”

Chris scoffed, apparently not finding that explanation satisfactory. Before he could go on, however, a certain blonde Dimitrescu barged into the room, stealing the spotlight.

“Oh, there you are! I was looking for you, Ethan. Are you busy with the men?”

Bela was giving them all her trademark serene smile, while holding her clenched hands together at her chest level. 

“Nah, I am just intruding here, anyway, I guess. What’s up?”

Hearing Ethan’s reply, Bela did not waste a second and roughly grabbed him by the arm, before leveraging her barely-human strength to drag him out with her.

Humming a pleasant melody, the woman marched right towards her room, with Ethan in tow. On their way to the room, the fears and anxieties that were induced by Sallow’s panic mongering were dispelled and replaced by anticipation of a different kind.

 

Giggling with mischief, Bela closed and locked the door to her room after Ethan had crossed the threshold. Even though Ethan could see where this was going, her next action still took him by surprise, as the woman roughly slammed him against the wall, before assaulting his mouth with her own hungry lips.

“Oh-ho, someone is impatient for some manly blood, aren’t we?” Ethan had to struggle to find a breather in between her shockingly vicious kisses. At that, Bela finally gave him a moment of tranquility, standing back a bit, with her amber orbs open wide.

“Is that what you think this is, Ethan..?”

That was the unspoken assumption, yet Bela laughed with mirth at his lack of response, as her delicate fingers started caressing his face.

“While I appreciate the offer greatly - and will likely take you up on it soon, I want something else from you right now, Mr. Winters.”

“Oh? Whatever is on your mind tonight, Ms. Dimitrescu?”

Bela grinned even wider, before her slender but powerful hands forcefully rotated Ethan around, only to unceremoniously shove him towards her bed. Before the man could even recover his bearing, the gorgeous woman was hovering right over him, her grimace twisted into one of lust - with her amber orbs open wide and her full lips forming a wicked smirk.

Letting out a slight moan of impatience, the blonde daughter hungrily licked her lips. Her pink tongue working around in circular motions was mesmerizing, yet after a moment the woman pushed back her lustful impulses, only to lower her head - to sensually whisper into the man’s ear, “What we had yesterday… I will cherish the memory of that beautiful moment forever, Ethan… but today… I want to show the extent of love I feel towards you. And that means…” Bela took a moment to slowly lick around his earlobe, before continuing, “Someone else will have to be at the bottom.”

“Oh...don’t let me stop you then, Bells.” Ethan answered with a whisper, even as his own heart rate increased considerably.

The woman leaned back, and the fierceness of her desire made shudders of anticipation run through Ethan’s spine. She almost appeared as if ready to tear the clothes right of his body.

Ethan did not stop Bela, yet something else did. 

Without warning, the room went dark.

“Bells… tell me you did it.”

A silly question, since Ethan could still feel her palms pressed firmly against his chest, yet the man desperately wanted to believe that it was merely her sneaky bugs flicking the switch, instead of some other, nefarious reason for the sudden pitch-black darkness that had enveloped the two lovers.

“I did not…”

Her voice betrayed the anxiety they both felt, as the woman slowly crawled off him. Ethan stood up shortly, trying hard not to stumble in this environment where his eyes were rendered completely useless.

“Ethan...look!”

Bela’s frightened whisper came from the window and Ethan realized the issue even before he approached it - even during the night, Nice was always illuminated by a myriad of lights and some of them should’ve reached their little window, yet the room was utterly devoid of lighting.

Looking outside the window, the man felt breath being caught in his throat as he beheld a foreboding sight - a good portion of the surrounding suburbs were as dark as their room. Not a single light was visible within several miles around them.

“Ethan… what’s going on?”

The man in question felt a smaller palm enveloping itself around his hand. He did not think twice about giving it a reassuring squeeze, or about offering a theory concerning the sudden darkness.

“Perhaps an accident at a power station?”

Before Bela could respond, the duo heard a strange noise coming from the villa’s rooftop. If Ethan had to describe the alien sound, he would probably settle on something like garbled radio transmission or distorted electrical interference. Regardless of that, the quiet yet pronounced noise that the man had never heard before in his life sent chills of fright through his spine. The noise died down, only to shortly repeat again - closer this time. It sounded wrong .

“What was that!?”

Bela was squeezing his hand hard now.

“I don’t know, Bells…”

Somehow, the duo of lovers no longer felt any lust or desire - none, whatsoever. These pleasant feelings were completely overtaken by anxiety and fear. Raw, primal fear of darkness; of the unknown. Not even the apparently unaging, bug-shapeshifting woman was immune to that.

Ethan did not survive what he did without developing powerful survival instincts. And they were screaming at him right this instant. Something bad is coming. James’ words came back to him, with a vengeance.

We are not safe here. We were foolish to think that we are.

 

In utter darkness, Ethan could do nothing but squeeze Bela’s hand tightly. Whatever was coming for them, they would face it together.

Notes:

Funnily, this chapter was supposed to be a very short intermission-type one, yet it got quite sizeable, with several important scenes of its own. I'd love to hear what you guys think about how it came out :)

Thanks for reading and have a great week!

Chapter 35: ...and the Harder we Fall

Notes:

This will be a VERY large and heavily combat-oriented chapter, with lots of depictions of graphic violence and bodily harm.

Chapter breaks will serve as a perspective/location change, but for convenience sake I've also added timestamps/location to each segment's start. The segments will not go in chronological order and the most important timeline part is 11:00 when the lights went out and 11:02, when the first shot was fired.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Conference Room - First Floor | 11:00 PM.

 

It took Chris two seconds to realize that something was really wrong after the lights had died down. Two seconds was the period it took for the backup generator every B.S.A.A. safehouse was equipped with to kick in after the loss of primary power - something that just did not happen now.

Briskly moving into the living room, with Leon and James following close-by, Chris had to illuminate the path with his smartphone’s flashlight. Several more tense faces were there to greet him with silent apprehension - most of the Hound Wolf squad, as well as Cassandra Dimitrescu and Jill Valentine.

The veteran captain did not waste a second further - barking orders left and right. Time was of the essence.

“Get into your gear! Night Howl - prepare the bird for take off! Lobo and Canine - reinforce the main entrance! Umber Eyes - barricade the rear one! Jill - check on that goddamn generator! Leon - get in touch with the Deltas.”

Against all odds, Cassandra and Dion apparently had still been at their damn game before the lights went out - with the rest present as their observers. While Cassandra merely gaped around with morbid curiosity - eventually settling to stare at Chris’ face, the well-trained agents got back into their combat mode - quickly putting on their vests and checking their guns - which never quite left their sides, even during the last, relatively peaceful, twenty-four hours. Only the heavier weaponry such as Rolando’s sniper rifle or John’s grenade launcher were left behind in their aircraft… a costly mistake, it was starting to appear.

As the Hound Wolves prepared for combat, Leon checked his own pistol, before contacting the commander of his military escort - who were patrolling the grounds outside the villa. Thankfully, the radio was working just fine. “Holiday, report.”

Douglas Holiday was a veteran of multiple military campaigns; a reliable if crass man with more than one successfully completed clandestine operation under his belt.

So when even this professional of the highest caliber had a hint of apprehension in his voice, Leon understood the depth of the mire he got bogged in this time. The comfy leather grip of his sidearm provided some reassurance to his tense fingers.

“We’ve got multiple motion sensors tripped at the perimeter but no visuals - so far.”

Chris felt his muscles tensing, as he heard the radioed report while clicking the safety off on his Dragoon assault rifle. They were in for a fight of their lives… Satisfied with his weapon’s combat-ready state, the captain glanced at departing forms of Charlie and Jill. If the enemy was what he thought they were, their jobs would be the most vital.

 

“Fuck…”

James Sallow was the one who let out a word they were all thinking about. The plain-looking defector warily glanced around the darkened room, with only flashlights to reveal the faces of his newest comrades.

In the doorway that led the upper floor staircase stood that unassuming female servant his newest companions brought along. James never paid her any mind before, but now - as their gazes connected - he could not suppress a shiver of fright at the vicious leer the normally kind-faced girl was throwing his way. Her thin lips moved without speaking, and James’ blood chilled in his veins as he read them.

You’re a dead man, traitor.

Nobody else was even looking at the servant - as their own gazes were firmly locked towards windows - expecting the threat to come from the outside, when in reality it was here all along.

As if feeling the end drawing near, a wave of regret had flooded James’ mind. Regret for joining the Connections in the first place. Regret for having participated in - sometimes directly overseeing - so many distasteful operations. Regret for looking for a way out - even when his rational mind screamed at him that it was just not realistic.

Conviction, however, was the last thought that crossed the man’s mind. After living a selfish life - never caring about anyone who got hurt, as long as he got what he wanted; his latest act of defiance might yet make the difference that will brighten that dark world of theirs, even a little bit. The information he had provided already was bound to reach someone, somewhere. Perhaps, that’s all it would take.

The last thing James Sallow saw was that servant moving her delicate index finger across her throat. An obvious threat that he had no time to ponder upon.

He did not hear the end of his life, nor did he feel any pain. James merely ceased to exist, in one, singular instant.

 

***

Living Room - First Floor | 10:59 PM.

 

Dion Wilson proved to be a resilient adversary, but Cassandra Dimitrescu was sure that she was going to get him this round. His no-doubt delicious, youthful man-blood was going to be hers! Therefore, Cassandra was not amused when the darkness interrupted her ongoing card game. 

“Fucking hell!”

Soon after, when Chris came out of the conference room, with his face illuminated by some errant smartphone’s flashlight, Cassandra was glad that her mom was in a different part of the house and could not see her middle child being visibly aroused by the man’s dominating presence as he barked out orders.

As everyone else scrambled to get prepared for whatever confrontation awaited, Cassandra could not stop gazing at the object of her affection. That handsome, chiseled face of his. These powerful hands that felt so good on her skin. That unyielding, rock-hard willpower and endless determination of his.

I am gonna ride you so fucking hard you’ll have no choice but to scream my name, Chris.

As the lusty brunette had such thoughts running through her head, a couple of her errant fingers started edging towards her nether regions. What happened next, however, temporarily replaced her raging libido with no less passionate sadistic glee.

Cassandra could only gape as the defector - that filthy, traitorous little rat - which she fully intended on killing herself at some point - bursted apart in a misty cloud of his own blood. A deafening noise that sounded like a high-pitched scream followed in the next instant.

As the bloody mist swiftly settled down, Cassandra stared in astonishment at the spot James Sallow occupied several moments ago. Nothing but a smear of blood remained there.

“SNIPER! GET THE FUCK DOWN!”

Chris’ powerful body slammed hard against her own, bringing them both to the floor - and not a moment too soon, as the space Cassandra herself occupied just a second ago was pierced by a bright lance of bluish light, which was immediately followed by that same shrill shriek.

Fluttering her eyelashes at the man that was on top of her, Cassandra was quick to realize that Chris Redfield had likely just saved her life. She never wanted to bang him as hard as now. Nibbling on her lower lip in unsatisfied desire, the wicked Dimitrescu daughter knew that such things would have to wait. There was blood to be spilled - a prospect that was only moderately less appealing to the sadist than her mounting the formidable B.S.A.A. captain.

As the large man crawled off of her, the pair carefully edged towards the window, even as Leon tossed Chris his Dragoon assault rifle. Chaotic gunfire that soon erupted all over the villa grounds indicated that the sniper was not alone - far from it.

Using his smartphone’s camera, Chris was quick to locate James’ murderer, without exposing himself to such a lethal weapon.

The sniper was located on a small hill overlooking the villa and he was carefully concealing himself behind a large oak tree, while taking potshots at whatever target was available. The bulky gun he held promised nothing but instantaneous death as it let loose bright spears of light and high-pitched shrieks.

“Type-7 particle weapon… I thought it was still in its prototype stage…” Leon quietly murmured, with Chris scoffing in response, “maybe they want to field-test it on us, huh?”

“I’ll get him!” Cassandra quickly and fearlessly volunteered, as Chris’ camera showed the sniper obliterating one of Leon’s military escorts outside the villa - making both hardened men shiver in impotent rage at the callous murder committed.

Chris appeared to have conflicting feelings at the offered solution, yet since the alternative was not there to present itself - conceded with a nod. Before Cassandra could stand up to morph into her swarm form however, Chris slammed his lips against her own in a swift but passionate kiss that made her long for more. So much more.

Gently caressing her cheek with his rough thumb, the man whispered something distinctly unromantic, yet it made the woman’s black heart beat ever so faster, nevertheless.

“Be careful and do not toy around with him - this weapon was designed to utterly eradicate organic material on contact - a perfect B.O.W. killer. Even a glancing hit could be lethal. Don’t take any chances. I’ll try to provide some covering fire as you approach him.”

Providing covering fire from a single direction, against a distant target which was armed with a dedicated long-range weapon was a risky endeavor, especially with nothing but his mid-range assault rifle - Cassandra’s tactical mind understood as much.

He is risking it for me … He wants me to stay safe… does he really care about me?

Suppressing the unwelcome tears that threatened to burst forth from her tough exterior, the woman let out a scoff, instead.

“Worry about yourself, soldier-boy. I eat freaks like him for breakfast. Literally, heh.”

Not wanting the man to see her softer facial reaction, as weakness was still something Cassandra could not easily abide, the woman dispersed into her swarm form - which then swiftly fluttered outside and towards the sniper.

 

Flying towards her target, a certain kind of madness was bubbling to the surface. The chaos, blood, and bodies underneath Cassandra transported her back to the days where her mother had set her loose on a hunt. Life was so simple back then, running through the woods as she caught her prey and violently carved her initials into miserable humans. The present may not be in rural Romania, and her prey may not be defenseless men who had attempted to steal from her castle, but the sharp tang in the air and the rush was all the same. Her sisters might despair at the thought of yet more death and destruction, but this was her forte. As she watched another body drop below, the euphoria was starting to drag her into a high.

About half-way towards the hill, Cassandra’s keen flies managed to get a good look at her target. Combat boots and black-red fatigues were worn underneath heavy body armor, with no identifying features of any kind. A menacing helmet offered a degree of protection for the sniper’s head and it curiously resembled a weird hockey mask to Cassandra’s mind. Finally, a large, bulky gun was held with practiced ease, as he fired it again and again.

Suddenly, the sniper swirled to face the approaching swarm. Somehow, even through the darkness of the night, he was able to perceive the incoming threat and was about to act accordingly - by shooting his no-doubt deadly weapon right at her tightly-clustered insects.

A barrage of gunfire from the villa was the only thing that forced the sniper to redirect his attention back to Chris. As lances of bright light shot past her swarm, Cassandra egged her bugs to fly ever faster, desperate to finally close the distance. Each single shot the sniper made could’ve been potentially lethal to the large captain and Cassandra found the very thought abhorrent to her mind.

To her amazement, several assault rifle rounds actually found their mark in their target - a testament to Chris’ own prodigious marksmanship talents, yet at that distance, the sniper’s armor was more than sufficient to stop them fully. Nevertheless, it forced the masked man to hide behind his tree, allowing Cassandra to ultimately reach the small hill unharmed. 

Coalescing back to her human shape, the fierce woman did not hesitate to strike at her target with her ever-present sickle, even before her once-again solid feet touched the ground. Surprising the brunette vampire, the sniper had reacted with incredible speed and dexterity - easily dodging the initial attack, as well as several follow-up swipes. Licking her black lips at the prospect of yet another worthy foe to vanquish, Cassandra gave out a taunting, “You’re tonight’s main dish” even as she took in her opponent wholly.

The strange invader cut an intimidating figure up close, with his creepy-ass mask and dark-red fatigues. If he was impressed with her boisterous taunt or decidedly inhuman swarm shapeshifting, he did a good job of concealing it.

Instead, with a lightning-fast motion, he leapt backwards as he brought his deadly gun up - handling the bulky weapon with astonishing ease. With but a moment to spare, Cassandra rushed sideways, dodging the deadly beam by mere inches. Unnerved by the fact that the sniper was able to shoot his gun with remarkable proficiency even in such close quarters and now genuinely afraid for her life, the woman pressed her assault hard - not giving him a chance for another shot.

With peerless ferocity, the brunette Dimitrescu unleashed a barrage of bladework that would’ve saw a lesser opponent cut to ribbons several times over, yet her opponent silently dodged most of her strikes; using his bulky gun as a impromptu shield against the ones he couldn’t.

Nevertheless, with the lives of people she loved possibly on the line, Cassandra was more relentless than ever as she pressed the attack, not letting the man even a moment to recover or even a single opportunity to fight back. However, despite giving it her all, she found herself unable to break the man’s unyielding guard with her traditional onslaught; but that only inspired her to find an unorthodox solution - which quickly presented itself as her keen eyes caught a freshly-polished feature.

With a thrusting feint of her dagger, the brunette used the opening to hook her sickle into a small hole that was present in the weapon’s side, before pulling it back - with all of her formidable strength.

Unable to oppose the vampire’s superior power, the soldier let the weapon go, yet in that same motion a compact but no-doubt dangerous shock baton found its way into his hands, making Dimitrescu's right eye widen in annoyance.

“Sheesh, does everyone have these nowadays?”

“It’s an adequate melee weapon with a multipurpose functionality.”

Cassandra found herself genuinely surprised that the faceless mook actually responded to her rhetorical question, especially since the aforementioned response was delivered in a calm, monotone voice.

Surprise gave way to thrill as the masked soldier went on the offensive, using his electrified weapon with no small amount of skill, which was further underlined by his almost inhuman speed and reflexes. Whoever these goons were, they were a definite step above the previous mercs and guards Cassandra had faced - and slaughtered.

Throwing her looted weapon away - for just a moment, as Cassandra was determined to retrieve the beautiful gun after dispatching this foe - the wicked Dimitrescu sibling could finally enjoy the beautiful dance that only an honest melee combat to the death could provide.

And what a glorious dance this was, as her opponent for this night matched her move for move, giving no ground! While Cassandra was a bit faster and stronger, her opponent appeared to have superior reflexes, in addition to possessing an advanced melee weapon that prevented the vicious middle child from performing successful blocks or parries. Overall, however, they appeared to be so perfectly matched, that after almost a full minute of bedazzling back-and-forth neither of them spotted even a single injury.

While Cassandra could find endless glee in such a violent activity on an ordinary day, the strategic part of her mind reminded her of a harsh truth.

They came here with an overwhelming force… Every second I am wasting with this clown is a second I could’ve been evening out the odds...or helping my family. 

Now resolved to best this challenger in a swift manner, Cassandra considered her next move, even as she dodged a particularly vicious swing of the shock baton, with her hairs straightening up from the electrostatic effects; yet her mind worked just as furiously as her hands swinged her bladed weaponry.

Outlasting him will take too long… Can’t use my swarm directly - not with his clearly-reinforced under armor suit covering his body fully… 

Barely avoiding a masterfully-executed feint with a deadly follow-up, Cassandra’s keen eyes fell upon the soldier’s combat belt. An inspiration was quick to flash at the sight of a familiar spherical device the three sisters had happened to discuss a couple of days ago. Bela’s little theory about a possible use of their swarm form against an adversary armed with these could be put to a test.

With a smirk, Cassandra was set on her course, yet to pull that particular move successfully, she had to distract the keen and no-doubt perceptive sniper - if he could spot her black insect swarm in the dead of night, he must’ve been eagle-eyed, indeed. And what better distraction was there than taking a hit?

Trusting in her mold-enhanced body to be able take a single blow, Cassandra masterfully faked falling for the next feint the commando performed and receiving the following blow to her ribs.

Gritting her teeth from quite paralyzing pain that was now racking throughout her torso, Cassandra tumbled to the ground, even as a couple of her more agile flies quietly detached from her left fingertips.

Barely able to roll out from the next blow coming her way from the relentless foe who smelled blood, Cassandra had to struggle to regain her footing as electricity still ravaged parts of her nervous system. Nevertheless, recovering most of her bearing, the brunette leaped away from the soldier in her understandable hurry to gain some distance from the unfortunate commando who was about to meet a fiery demise.

Giggling in dark mirth as her agile flies returned - bearing a gift, Cassandra could not help herself but let out one last quip for her adversary, even as she dangled the item in question.

“Oh, is this yours?”

Seeing a circular item that suspiciously looked like a pin to one of his grenades - in her playful fingers, the realization of his impending demise was quick to dawn upon the doomed man.

“Shi..”

Even his final word started as a boring monotone, but ended with quite a bang. At the glorious sight of carnage she perpetrated with her cunning, Cassandra let out a loud, hearty laugh, even as gory bits and droplets of blood rained down - a couple of them falling close to her mouth - with her hungry tongue quick to gobble them up...

...only to promptly spat them out as the revolting taste forced the vomit reflex. The vanquished foe’s vital fluids were almost akin to motor oil - which she had tasted, thanks to one of Daniela’s stupid pranks. “Yuck…”

Not wasting too much precious time on such frivolous things, however, the brunette was quick to grab the discarded energy weapon - in a bid to even out the odds for her side.

Despite its clearly advanced make, it did not appear overly complex to use. Hastily getting a hang of the weapon, Cassandra took a moment to get acquainted with the digital scope the gun was equipped with. Whistling in appreciation of the level of magnification as well as the quality of detail, Cassandra swiftly took in the battlefield.

 

It wasn’t looking good.

Just like she thought - the enemy force was numerous, well-equipped and determined to wipe the moldy gang and their friends out. The military escorts Leon brought with him were putting on a good show, but ultimately they were both outnumbered and outgunned - their own number was dwindling rapidly, with only three out of the original ten still standing.

Moreover, a large shadow hovered over the villa grounds. Raising her scoped weapon up, Cassandra felt a shiver of fright run through her own spine. She never faced anything like this before.

It appeared to be a large, military helicopter, armed to the teeth and with a decent transport capacity. The bird was amazingly quiet and in the darkness of the night - almost invisible. Surprisingly, despite the chaos below, it merely observed, without adding its own, no doubt formidable firepower into the mix. 

Several ropes were hanging through its open side doors, reaching all the way towards the villa - implying that the enemy was already inside. Gritting her teeth in silent fury at the very notion that her beloved family was threatened, Cassandra mouthed a prayer for her loved ones to be alright, even as she contemplated squeezing the trigger right then and there. With a frown, the brunette was quick to reconsider - even if her weapon could bring that well-armored bird down, crashing a helicopter of that size on top of the villa probably would not be very conductive to the building’s occupants' continued health.

Glancing back towards the villa’s proper, something even more curious was quick to catch her eye.

In the window of a hallway located on the villa’s third floor was none other than Ethan fucking Winters, who was quite busy having grievous bodily harm inflicted upon him by something the weapon’s targetfinder outlined in blue and identified as a friendly.

Hissing in fury, the brunette attempted to still her breathing as she prepared to land a shot on Ethan’s assailant. Only I get to mutilate you, Ethan.

With her target concealed behind a hallway’s wall for a moment, Cassandra had a moment to amend that thought. Well, maybe Bela too, I guess. Only fair.

The second her unknowing prey stepped back into her line of sight - thanks to the small window it ambled past - Cassandra squeezed the trigger.

There was no recoil as the weapon let loose a piercing shriek, as well as a bright lance of light. Which was a bit of a letdown, since the middle child liked her guns having some kick. The effects on her target, however, were instantaneous and gruesome enough that the sadistic daughter could not help herself but let out a girlish squeal of wicked delight.

In the very moment her prey’s flesh was stripped from its bones, Cassandra decided that she had a new best friend.

“Forget Anabelle! I’ll call you Lux. For you bring the light of truth to the ignorant masses!”

Whistling in satisfaction at her wit - and utterly ignoring the angry hum the gun itself made as it registered a friendly-fire incident, Cassandra proceeded to give the little man-thing that now owed her a big favor a carefree wave with her free hand.

“Would you look at that…” Ethan’s return ‘wave’ made Cassandra unable to stifle a gasp of surprise intermixed with amusement. When she had first met the man several years ago, she judged him as nothing more than a wimp… a weakling. And now, the middle Dimitrescu sibling found herself not that opposed to the idea that this man would eventually become her brother-in-law. Eventually.

As Ethan moved on to address his no-doubt painful injury, Cassandra returned her attention to her new best friend - there were still plenty of enemies to kill, after all. Still amazed at the weapon’s incredibly gory effects, the brutal woman cooed at it softly, as she tenderly caresses its hard edges.

“Ah, Lux, Such good friends we will be… I can tell!”

Unfortunately, Lux was not looking to make new friends that night, after all. As Cassandra’s gentle digits passed over its built-in fingerprint scanner, the weapon let out an angry hum; with its digital ammo counter being replaced by a curious message.

 

Unauthorized User. Initiating Farewell Protocol.

 

“Farewell!? We’ve just met!” Cassandra’s indignant yelp gave way to unease as the gun started to rapidly heat up in her arms. Her sense of self-preservation screamed at the brunette to immediately discard the gun - and so she did, yet she was not fast enough.

With a deafening high-pitched shriek, the gun exploded mere inches away from Cassandra’s hands, with super-heated bluish flames immediately leaping at her soft skin, only to feast upon it with insatiable hunger.

The uncontained plasma discharge evaporated quickly in standard atmospheric conditions, yet the damage was done. Letting out a series of short screams evoked by exquisite agony of her hands being seared to the bone, Cassandra fell right on her rear, before curling into a protective ball. “Aaghhh, God DAMN! My fucking hands!”

Rolling on the ground in an attempt to extinguish some secondary fires that were caught on by her clothes, the brunette daughter briefly considered how she would’ve found it amusing, hilarious even to watch - were it to happen to some random human. Cassandra found remarkably less amusement in the fact that it was her body that was currently being ravaged by agonizing, searing pain.

“Fuck you, Lux! I thought we were friends…” grunting one last jibe in a petty attempt to get even, Cassandra felt consciousness leaving her. The pain of her seared limbs eventually proved too much and darkness soon claimed the middle Dimitrescu sibling. Her last waking thought was the hope that her sisters and mother were doing better than her.

 

***

Music Room - Second Floor | 10:55 PM.

 

Before the lights went out, Daniela had been giving out a Grand Piano performance. True, her audience was a little shy for such a proud name - just precious Rose and curious Emily. Neither was her skill with piano of any particular note, as Daniela’s true passion lay with her beloved violin.

Regardless of that, the redheaded Dimitrescu was inspired to play a couple of songs after Jill’s majestic performance earlier. To accommodate for her own lack of practice, as well as for the specific spectator, Daniela had settled on simple, happy melodies. Despite the fact that she had fumbled with some notes, her small but passionate audience gazed at the vampiric pianist with nothing but admiration and joy.

With her pink tongue slightly peeking out as she stared at the sheet music in front of her with an enviable amount of concentration, Daniela was determined to finish this song without any fumbles.

That particular dream crashed and burned as the darkness suddenly enveloped the room, ruining her performance.

Taken by uncharacteristic anger at this most unfortunate turn of events, Daniela slammed her fists against the keys, producing a discordant noise as she cursed in her native tongue.

“La naiba!”

Embarrassed by her momentary lapse of control - in presence of a young child, no less, Daniela quickly murmured out something unintelligible, before finally arriving at the realization that something was wrong.

“Ugh… where did the light go?”

“Looks like a blackout.” offered Emily, as she reached into her jeans’ pocket for a smartphone - to illuminate the room with its flashlight feature.

“Damn, looks like it affected a good portion of the city, as well…” the Hound Wolf only female operator continued, as she gazed outside the large window. 

Standing up from her piano seat, the redhead Dimitrescu fished for her own smartphone - to add its light, as well. As she frustratedly scrolled through the phone’s many silly features - most of them useless - she let out a small groan of annoyance, before going completely quiet - listening carefully, instead.

Daniela’s keen ears twitched in curiosity as her sharp senses picked up an odd noise coming from somewhere above. The roof, perhaps? Regardless of its origin, the youngest Dimitrescu daughter had never heard anything like that before in her long life. It sounded like some kind of garbled electronic sound, as if some computer was broken, or something.

“Do you guys hear that?”

“Hear what?” Emily clearly didn’t, nor did Rose - the tiny girl simply shook her head in response.

The strange, alien sound died down, only to repeat again after a couple of moments - closer this time and the human occupants of the music room tensed up - finally hearing it. Rose made a motion to huddle closer to Daniela, hugging her leg.  “I am scared, Dani…” The redhead chuckled lovingly, as she ruffled the child’s blonde locks.

“It’s alright, hon. Auntie Dani is not gonna let any scary monsters hurt you!”

The sound of distortion did not relent, and now it appeared as if it came from right outside the music room. Emily’s hand reached for her pistol, but her digits merely touched the holster, not yet drawing the gun.

“We should go back downstairs, girls…” offered Emily, as her eyes attempted to locate the source of the noise. The blonde Hound Wolf woman made a motion to follow up on her own advice; illuminating the path with her phone. By chance, some light from it fell upon the ceiling, yet the human operative saw nothing wrong.

Daniela’s sharp amber orbs however, saw something distinctly unnatural, something that made a chill of fright run down her own spine. It was as if a distorted silhouette of something - barely perceptible even to her keen eyes - was attached to the ceiling. The only reason Daniela could even see it was because of the slight shimmering effect it had in the space it occupied, like slight ripples of waves in the ocean. The shimmering figure was right above Emily.

A short-lived, yet powerful shrill sound that could compete with a thunder in its intensity resonated from below - stopping Emily dead in her tracks; the distorted silhouette above the blonde Hound Wolf visibly twitched, disturbed by the noise ...as if posed to attack....

Daniela’s cry of warning died on her lips as the silhouette detached from the ceiling, only to drop down right at Emily. A flash of steel preceded a horrible sloshing sound and a second later, the blonde woman that had given Daniela heartfelt applause mere minutes ago, stood headless. A fountain of pressurized arterial blood erupted from Emily’s stump of a neck, before the decapitated corpse, bereft of direction, finally collapsed. 

Emily’s murderer - and Daniela could see it clearly now, as whatever force concealed it dissipated on its vicious attack - was a humanoid figure - a human male perhaps, as it was hard to tell for sure, since the figure was covered, head to toe, by some kind of fiberglass-like suit. A pair of vicious red slits likely served as his eyes, while a pair of wicked blades were attached to his right forearm. A small, peculiar backpack was peeking from behind his shoulders.

All that Daniela’s keen eyes took in a second, as a second is all it took for the creature to fade from view - with that same distorted electrical sound she had heard earlier.

The figure was still standing in that spot near the doorway, however, as something had to be holding Emily’s severed head - which was now hovering at chest level above floor.

With what sounded like a derisive snort, the head was let go in a way that saw it slowly roll right towards the huddling pair of girls, leaving a bloody trail as it went. As it came to a decisive stop, Emily’s lifeless orbs stared right at Daniela, making the redhead’s stomach churn.

True, the youngest Dimitrescu was no stranger to severed heads, as she had seen her fair share of them over the years, yet the grisly sight still evoked horrifying memories of her darkest days - almost making the girl let out a piercing scream that begged to be let loose.

Little Rose, who still hugged Daniela’s leg as if her life depended on it, had no such restraint. The piercing shriek that erupted from Rose’s tiny mouth was so full of anguish and terror that Daniela was sure that it would never fade from her memory.

Making sure to place herself in between the last known location of the assassin and the innocent child, Daniela let out a low, threatening hiss; her fair features twisting into a menacing, snarling grimace. Whatever that thing was, she was not going to let it touch even one blonde hair of Rose.

Even unarmed, a Dimitrescu daughter was a force to be reckoned with. Perhaps the assassin felt the threat the slender woman exuded, or maybe he was merely toying with them. Regardless of his intent, Daniela could no longer spot his tell-tale shimmering frame within the room, yet they were not out of danger yet.

Clearly, the assassin that had claimed Emily’s life brought friends. A lot of them, if brutal sounds of gunfire that were now coming from villa’s grounds was any indication. Moreover - as if to compound the danger - a menacing, low chuckle came just right outside the musical room, and Daniela realized that the murdering fiend was waiting for them.

We are safe here… he’s a coward, he won’t attack me when I am prepared for it… I’ll just wait here for help, with Rosie. I must keep her safe at all costs…

Daniela’s smart plan never left its inception phase, as the large glass window that separated the 2nd floor’s musical room from the outdoors was shattered, with a myriad of sharp fragments flying in every direction.

Turning around, Daniela’s heart skipped a beat as she saw the source of the disturbance. A trio of black-clad, well-armored and armed intruders were suddenly sharing the room with them. The soldiers’ most distinguishing feature were their helmets, or more precisely their face-plates - which somewhat resembled a hockey mask, except with menacing angles and a singular visor instead of typical eye-holes. Three heavy-duty ropes, hanging behind the attackers, hinted at the roof as their point of arrival.

The moment the intruders' boots touched the floor - they opened fire. Either they identified the innocent child and the youngest Dimitrescu sibling as their targets in a blink of an eye, or they simply did not care - everyone in this villa was marked for termination.

Daniela could only thank the heavens for the simple fact that the apparently bulletproof Grand Piano was in between the two parties. Several rounds passed through the redhead’s tall frame - doing little damage, before she could cover behind the musical instrument; Rose’s tiny shape was wholly concealed by it, and therefore spared from harm - for now.

Hissing in anger, the Dimitrescu daughter realized that she had to act - fast. It was only a matter of time until either piano gave out from the barrage, or the intruders would move around it; worse yet - one of them could simply chuck a grenade their way.

Glancing sideways, Daniela saw a small supply closet - a perfect place for little Rose to hide out in, while she herself could hopefully stop the aggressors somehow. Willing her arm to shapeshift into the swarm - only to carry Emily’s unused sidearm back to her, the redhead now had a plan, which she relayed, yelling through the gunfire.

“Rose! Hide behind me and make a run for that supply closet!”

Amazingly, the terrified child only nodded her tiny head at her. Daniela knew that many adults - if placed in such a dreadful situation - would panic and heed nothing. Rose was truly a remarkable girl…

Standing up from their impromptu cover, with a scream of rage, Daniela let loose upon their attackers with Emily’s sidearm. 9mm rounds struck against their body armor, doing little damage - yet their return fire slackened, as they attempted to seek out whatever cover that was available to them.

This was the moment Daniela made a sideway motion from their own cover - exposing her body fully to superior firepower of their aggressors. Bullets passed right through her flickering frame only to strike the wall behind her - making her experience a horrible revelation. 

I can’t use my body as cover for Rose! Damn it… I’ll have to force myself to remain whole as they shoot at us…

Gritting her teeth, Daniela felt a small hand wrapping itself around her thigh - Rosie was following her right into the killzone, trusting the redhead to keep her safe…

I will not betray your trust, Rosie! Fuck… this is gonna hurt...

Collecting her willpower in an iron fist, Daniela Dimitrescu did something she never thought she would. Intentionally overriding her body’s instinctual reaction to assume partial swarm form in response to threatening swift and sharp objects was not something she ever considered. She could only trust that her mold-rich body would keep her alive through that foolhardy act.

As small-caliber bullets struck her solid flesh, burying themselves deep inside her innards and drawing black blood, Daniela kept moving sideways, even as tears, caused by indescribable agony trickled freely down her mascara-smeared face.

Getting to the closet, the redhead did not hesitate to roughly push the child in, before slamming the door shut. 

The level of pain the redhead felt now was not matched by any previous experience in her long life. Almost feral from ongoing and intensifying suffering, the youngest Dimitrescu dispersed fully into her swarm form; the empty pistol cluttering to the floor, forgotten.

Still connected by her hivemind, the erratic insects swarmed around the room, with the aggressors finally holding fire and simply gaping at the directionless bugs. Trading glances among themselves, the soldiers started reaching for their incendiary grenades, determined to burn the whole room.

 

Meanwhile, frozen in time, in the depth of her own psyche, the youngest Dimitrescu came face to face with someone - the one thing she hated the most - herself.

The redheaded girl that stared back at her growled in rage, as not a speck of sanity or humanity could be found in her depthless bloodshot eyes. Only insatiable hunger and fiery, primal frenzy. In a moment, that creature of indiscriminate destruction would be out there, while she will be stuck here, in this mental prison.

As her blood-starved twin made a motion to move past her, Daniela placed a single, soothing palm on her shoulder.

“Hunger…” The feral twin snarled back at her, slapping the hand away. It would not be denied now. Yet Daniela was not done. Recalling everything she had learned, the youngest daughter placed herself firmly in the creature’s path - locking their gazes together - for just a brief moment.

“We do not destroy...we Protect .”

Daniela put her every positive emotion, her every desire into that single word, hoping against hope that the beast would heed it. Compounding the message, she focused on picturing Rose’s and Ethan’s smiling faces. The kindness they’ve shown. The love and familial affection they had shared with her. It had to count for something - even to this monstrous side of hers.

The feral twin hissed in momentarily confusion, before roughly shoving Daniela away from its path. Imprisoned in the depths of her own mind, the youngest child could only hope that this was enough, as control left her fully.

 

With Daniela’s rational mind retreating from the waking world, only the feral creature of instinct was left behind. As the swarm coalesced back together, it beheld the trio of attackers. Their features, intentions or actions were irrelevant to it, as she saw only two things of note.

Threat. Food.

The very instant her form was solid once more, two soldiers opened fire with their submachine guns, while the third primed his grenade.

The feral creature knew survival well - it realized the deadly threat clearly, and acted accordingly.

With a burst of strength that would’ve left even Cassandra flabbergasted, the darker side of Daniela firmly grabbed the Grand Piano by its leg, before - with a growl of titanic effort - lifting the whole thing up. The already-much abused instrument groaned in protest, as it was about to collapse under its own prodigious weight. Daniela would not give it the chance to do so, however, as she, in a single, lightning-fast motion, smashed the 600 lbs musical instrument into the closest attacker.

The intruder must’ve had nearly superhuman reflexes himself, as he attempted to dodge the impromptu club with remarkable dexterity, yet the sheer size of it, combined with the speed of the attack left him little room to maneuver. Upon impact the piano produced a sad discordant noise, while falling from her loosened grip. With the expensive wood fragments shooting in every direction, it was unlikely that it would ever be used for its intended purpose again.

The effect on the soldier was even more pronounced, however, as the piano pushed him into the wall - for just a millisecond. After that, the unstoppable force had met an immovable object - with the unfortunate fleshy meatbag stuck in between. With a horrifying squelching sound, the invader’s torso got obliterated by the incredible power pushing against it. Organs were pulped, bones crushed and powdered. Naturally, the invader did not move again, not with his spinal column shattered in sixteen places.

Remarkably, the remaining two intruders did not even pause in their aggression at witnessing their compatriot’s horrifying demise. The gunner continued to pepper Daniela with ineffective gunfire, while the grenadier had finally raised his grenade - its pin pulled and the device in the process of being ‘cooked’ to perfection.

Hissing viciously, Daniela repositioned herself to be once again in between the piano and the attackers. With its legs broken, it could no longer serve as a club, yet the creature had a different use for it in its dark mind.

With a shoulder slam of incredible power, Daniela pushed the Grand Piano forward. Such was the fury-driven vampire’s strength, that the 600 lbs musical instrument launched right at the duo of no-doubt shocked troopers. One of them - closer to the side of the inbound makeshift projectile managed to leap to the side, while the middle one simply had nowhere to go. Nowhere but down, as the piano’s impact launched the invader right through the shattered window; the instrument followed him shortly.

The discordant noise of the dying piano crashing down from the second floor was succeeded by a booming noise of an exploding grenade, yet Daniela’s attention was firmly locked upon the last soldier.

Seeing his gunfire ineffective against her shimmering form and his compatriots down, the trooper reached for his own grenade, yet Daniela would not give him the chance to pull the pin. In a blink of an eye, the monstrous vampire was upon the soldier, with her inhumanly powerful arms battering the weapons away, before holding him in a deathgrip as she bit down hard at his jugular.

Whatever hardened textile was used for his outfit was no match against her sharp teeth and soon Daniela was able to taste his vital fluid. It was horribly bland, with a particularly unpleasant machine oil-like aftertaste. Yet the creature cared not for its taste. All it desired was the nutrients it desperately needed to sustain its wounded, fading body. And in that regard, the blood was rich indeed. Daniela drunk greedily, lapping every single drop, until the exsanguinated corpse had no more to give. But even then, she was not done, as her arms tore off its combat vest, only to start her feast in its earnest - now engorging herself upon its similarly distasteful yet nutrient-rich flesh and organs.

So lost the redheaded vampire was in her grim feast that she failed to note the familiar distorted electrical noise, not until it was too late.

“Behind you, Dani!” Rose’s panicked voice was the last thing she had heard, before her whole body was paralyzed by an indescribable feeling of agony. Glancing down towards the origin of her newest suffering, the creature that was Daniela felt genuine fear - perhaps for the first time in its long and pain-filled existence.

A pair of wicked, electrified blades were poking through her stomach, and the smell of burnt flesh - her own - was overwhelming. With a wet squelching noise, the blades retracted and Daniela felt her own strength being sapped as volatile current ran throughout her body.

Combined with her previous injuries, she finally had no more to give. With a defeated grunt, the vampire collapsed backwards, only to hear the fiber-glass suited freak’s mirthless chuckle.

Faced with the prospect of her own mortality, the creature still did not go quietly into the night. As the assassin raised his blades for a killing blow, Daniela let out a defiant roar that carried with it the fury of decades of mindless brutality and primal savagery. Even her would-be killer paused from the sheer intensity the Dimitrescu exuded in that moment.

Nevertheless, the assassin had a job to do, and he would accept no more delays. Raising his electrified blades for a decapitating strike, the man did not hear a pair of quiet feet approaching him from behind.

“Don’t you dare to lay a finger on my daughter, you filth!” Alcina’s shriek pierced the air even as her kitchen knife pierced the neck of Daniela’s foe.

The assassin gurgled his own blood, yet amazingly, did not fall right then and there. With a burst of speed and strength that betrayed his own inhuman origins, he rotated around to deliver a jaw-shattering backhand to the noblewoman.

Letting out a choking grunt, the assassin pulled out the kitchen knife, only to discard it as he stalked towards the now prone Lady Dimitrescu. Not giving her a chance to recover, the vile invader grasped her by the neck with his powerful left hand. Lifting her up as if she weighed nothing, the assassin slammed her hard against the nearby shelf, with musical sheets flying free from the impact. 

As he raised his bladed arm to finish her off, Lady Dimitrescu leveled a defiant glare against the murderer. She would not cower before any man. Not again. 

Suddenly - delaying the execution yet again, the assassin grunted in pain, before a small yet fierce cry resonated across the music room.

“Leave us alone! Go away!”

With astonishment, Lady Dimitrescu glanced downwards, only to beheld Rose - with her tiny hands gripping the discarded kitchen knife as she plunged it deep into the man’s thigh.

Unheeding the danger to herself, the precious child came to her aid. 

Recovering from pain swiftly, the assassin prepared to strike at the poor girl - clearly unbothered by any moral or ethical implications of such a vile act.

The sight of the atrocity that was about to take place evoked the most painful of memories in the countess. As they flashed before her eyes, she could not stop herself from frothing in rage, even if she wanted to. Any insults or threats she could think of would be wasted, thanks to her dislocated jaw. Instead, Alcina did something she never thought she would, not after what Mia Winters did to her.

Still held by the assassin’s left hand, the noblewoman let out a gurgled roar of rage, as she forced every ounce of hatred and fury she held within her heart into her right hand. To her unbridled relief and assassin’s horror, her mold-hardened nails swiftly elongated into wickedly sharp blades that soon found their mark right in his throat - before quickly carving through the flesh and bone to pierce deeper yet - getting to the brain and finally ending the assassin.

With no will keeping the man upright, both himself and the countess his hand still held in its rapidly-slackening grip tumbled to the floor - where they both remained.

Entangled with her newest victim, Alcina could not free herself - for the countess was paralyzed by pain. Without her prodigious regeneration, the act of elongating her nails proved to be excruciatingly agonizing. 

Overwhelmed by pain, Lady Dimitrescu could do nothing but let out tormented whimpers out through her broken jaw, even as she heard little Rose crying out in fright. But the most damning sound was one that was lacking - her beautiful, precious Daniela was deathly silent now.

 

***

 

Basement Sub-Level | 11:05 PM.

 

Jill grumbled in annoyance as she navigated the lightless expanse of tunnels that made the villa’s basement level. 

“Who designed this place..?” muttering under her breath, the woman proceeded to walk forward, nevertheless. With a small flashlight as her sole source of illumination, Jill walked with even, careful steps, even as she grit her teeth at the sound that was accompanying her every move down here.

Drip

It was a mere leaky pipe somewhere nearby, yet the brunette woman wanted to do nothing more than to find whoever was responsible for the maintenance of this place and to beat him senseless with that very pipe.

Drip

Jill could not stand this particular repeating, unyielding sound ever since she was a little girl - sharing a tiny, run-down apartment with her thieving dad - or by herself, when he was serving his time after being caught. The memory of how she would bury her tiny head deep into the pillow, desperate to escape that accursed dripping was quick to resurface.

Drip

But her younger years turned out to be a mere annoyance, as she had grown to learn during her tenure as Wesker’s personal murderer. Whenever she wasn’t ending or infecting some unfortunate soul at that vile man’s behalf, she had obediently waited in a dirty, tiny cell with nothing but a flea-eaten mattress for a bed. It wasn’t even locked - Wesker wasn’t afraid of his little brainwashed slave just walking out on him. And as she sat on that filthy mattress, preparing for her next assignment, all she had to listen to was that same unbearable dripping - from a leaky pipe right over her head. Say what you will about The Connections, at least their cell was pristinely clean and properly maintained…

Drip

And, now - faced with the horrible noise once again, she almost considered abandoning her mission to seek out that leaky pipe instead - and to wreck it fully. But that would only validate her latest shrink’s claim - that she was unstable; a danger to others. He thought I couldn’t hear him... And far more importantly, it would imperil them all. Chris counted on her to fix that generator - and she even had an idea as to why, after a long talk they had earlier today. This was a vital job that was about more than just the damn lights - and that’s why he trusted her to do it. 

Nevertheless, it still took a considerable amount of willpower for Jill to suppress her uncomfortably violent urges by letting out a deep breath and returning on track. I am not letting you down again, Chris. Not again. Never again.

Drip

Approaching a turn that would eventually lead her to the backup generator room, Jill’s attentive ears heard nothing but the sound of her own footsteps and that unyielding dripping that threatened to drive her nuts.

Drip… Scratch 

The woman froze instantly as she picked up a third sound. She briefly entertained the notion that it was a mere rat or a mouse, yet her upbringing in a poverty-stricken urban area ensured that she knew exactly how these vermin sounded. This… was something else.

Drip

Not hearing the unidentified sound again and knowing that time was against them, Jill continued towards her objective - with measured steps and her fingers finding comfort in the familiar grips of her twin submachine guns.

Drip… Scratch 

Not two steps later, that scratching sound repeated, making the woman once again stop to fully take in her surroundings. A sizable, but empty square space that could serve as a storage room - with her in the middle; as well as four concrete pillars around.

Closing her eyes that were almost useless in such conditions anyway, Jill focused all of her attention on her nearly preternatural hearing. Slight vibrations reaching Jill through the basement’s stale air indicated a presence - as if something...or someone was lightly breathing. Concentrating on a particular direction, Jill could almost feel a beating heart.

They could call her crazy or unstable or dangerous all they wanted, but the former S.T.A.R.S. member knew that she was not alone down here. Just because one couldn’t see something - didn’t mean it wasn’t there and living in the darkness taught as much. Few have experienced an all-encompassing, hopeless darkness as well as Jill did. 

Suddenly, the slight vibrations shifted - getting closer to her. Jill’s sixth sense screamed of imminent danger - of malice closing in on her. That’s all she needed to unholster her twin guns in a blink of an eye.

With a laugh that a healthy mind would struggle to produce, Jill spread her arms wide and let loose a barrage of gunfire as she slowly rotated her torso and her arcs of fire around.

While her pair of stockless Uzis were lacking in several crucial aspects, such as effective range or penetrative power, one thing made up for it. Rate of fire. With a combined fire-rate of 1200 rounds per minute and in such close quarters, it was virtually impossible to miss. If there was something here, the chances of it escaping the barrage unscathed were next to nil.

Gunfire being utterly deafening, Jill could not possibly hear any grunts of pain her reckless action evoked, yet a burst of blood that appeared out of nowhere was enough to validate her thought patterns. I am not insane! For a moment, the joy of being correct in her assumptions almost overridden the rightful fright from the prospect of imminent combat.

The moment had passed soon, however, and the maddened adrenaline rush started its rampage across her circulatory system. The whole world slowed down as a cocktail of chemicals ran through her bloodstream - not all of them ordinary found in a human body.

In the same instance of time Jill hastily reloaded her guns - two figures revealed themselves - with a number of fresh small-caliber bullet holes decorating their, otherwise pristine, fiberglass-like suits. The figures were quick to detach themselves from their spots - the corners right under the ceiling. Betraying their own not-quite-human origins, the assassins immediately rushed Jill from two sides - not appearing overly bothered by several injuries they were now sporting.

Hoping to end the threat with a single motion, Jill let loose a barrage of gunfire against each of the assassins, but, to her chagrin, they proved elusive and sharp with both their sight and reflexes. As if tracking even the slightest movements of her trigger fingers, the murdering freaks dodged and weaved through her bullets - avoiding the bursts of gunfire even before she had fired them.

As they took a momentarily refuge behind two of the concrete pillars, Jill made a split-second decision, realizing that they would be upon her in the very next moment, and while she stood a chance against one of these freaks with bladed arms, two of them would be an insurmountable threat to face simultaneously.

Focusing her attention entirely upon the assassin to her right, Jill brought both of her guns upon him, even as the two of them rushed her in a bid to tear the woman to shreds. The moment her chosen assassin left his sanctuary of concrete, the B.S.A.A. star let loose a barrage of 9mm rounds upon it - creating an ever shrinking killzone that left no room to maneuver. As if accepting his grim fate, the masked intruder gave one last glance towards his comrade, before Jill’s bullets finally found their mark.

The brunette woman found a likely unhealthy amount of satisfaction from the squelchy sounds made by the 9mm rounds tearing through flesh, as well as freshly-spilled blood splattering her face and especially the way his fading body tumbled to her feet. Wisely deciding to leave these particular feelings for her next therapy session, Jill barely managed to dodge the vicious attack the assassin to her left performed as he finally reached her. 

With an envious amount of acrobatics, the brunette avoided slash after slash of his bladed right arm, yet it appeared that the remaining assassin was invigorated by the death of his comrade, as he was completely relentless in his savage desire to dismember her.

Executing a swift roundhouse kick that connected with the assassin’s midriff - momentarily stunning her target, Jill backflipped in a bid to gain some distance between herself and these deadly, sparkling blades. Not wasting a single breath as her feet touched the ground, the former S.T.A.R.S. attempted to turn the threat to her continuous, if relative well-being into ribbons with her Uzis, yet the guns chose to betray her by clicking empty at this most inopportune of moments, making the woman discard them with a curse. “Fuck!”

Seeing her conundrum, the assassin let out something akin to a chuckle, before fading from view. Gritting her teeth from both her frustration at this unenviable situation she had found herself in, as well as the annoying electrical distortion-like noise the cloaking device made, Jill reached for her sidearm - the Lightning Hawk chambered for .44 Magnum.

Unfortunately, the remaining assassin decided that he was done playing games and rushed the woman immediately, relying on his near-perfect camouflage to mask his movements. And while Jill could clearly perceive a slight shimmering rapidly approaching her, she misjudged the sheer speed the assassin possessed.

Jill’s last moment’s partial dodge saw the woman’s head still attached to her neck - to the assassin’s annoyance - yet it was not enough to completely avoid the deadly attack.

As the assassin took a moment to appreciate his work, the smell of seared flesh assaulted her nostrils. In a morbid, almost detached curiosity, Jill risked a glance to observe her left arm - or what was left of it. Cut right above the elbow, her limb made a spectacular arc - trailing pressurized blood all the while - as it soared through the air, only to land in a corner nearby.

An ordinary human would’ve found the experience excruciatingly painful, yet the brunette woman felt nothing but a slight prickle. Instead of succumbing to pain or despair, Jill found her mind working with remarkable clarity, as it thought on how to put this most unenviable situation to her advantage.

With a swift, reckless and likely insane plot hatched, Jill waited for the assassin to prepare to deliver a killing blow - she did not have to wait long. Growling in bloodlust, the murdering fiend was once again upon her - poised to end his nemesis for good, yet Jill would have none of it. In a single motion the agile woman dodged the blades, not forgetting to splatter the assassin’s face with the pressurized blood from her stump by performing a swift twist of the appendage in question. Disoriented, yet clearly possessing superior survival instincts, the assassin faded from view - not allowing the brunette to execute him with her magnum.

But that was all according to her plan, as an instant later Jill found herself breaking into a frenzied sprint - back towards the labyrinth-like corridors, even as her agile fingers holstered the gun and worked on detaching a small device from her utility belt.

The sound of the heavier footsteps was soon to join the one she made herself, as the assassin - now growling in clear bloodlust and rage - was starting to give chase. With a smirk one wouldn’t expect to see on the face of a person who had just lost an arm, Jill rounded one more corner before quickly setting up the device and jumping away from it.

She had little doubt that under ordinary conditions, the likely well-trained assassin would never fall for such a simple trick, yet the rage of the vocal sounds he made in his pursuit clearly betrayed the bloodthirsty haze that had enveloped his mind - he was desperate to finish her off.

In his eagerness to do so, he did not pause to take a glance at the floor as he rounded the corner. A fatal mistake, as it turned out in the next moment when a tiny but potent mine exploded right underneath his feet.

In a twist of fate that split Jill’s lips into a wicked grin, the assassin’s right leg was torn away at the knee by the blast; coloring the hallway crimson. The man grunted in shock and pain as he tumbled forward, landing in a heap only a couple of feet away from Jill, who was leaning against a wall, as she appreciated the fruits of her labor.

Recovering somewhat, the assassin, growling like a wild beast, attempted to crawl towards his target - who smirked at this last-ditch effort to end her life.

“Tougher critters than you have tried.”

The roar of .44 Magnum within the tight confines of the corridor were deafening, but the satisfaction of seeing a hideous hole being carved right between the eyes of her foe was worth it. Blowing that thing’s brains out was oddly reminiscent of another near-death encounter the brunette woman once had, which was almost nostalgic when she thought about it.

Regardless, with the adrenaline rush dying alongside her enemies, the effects of the massive blood-loss she endured was rearing its ugly head. Suddenly feeling dizzy and knowing that she could black out at any moment, Jill was swift to holster her powerful Lightning Hawk and to backtrack towards the generator room.

Mercifully not encountering any more hostiles, the stalwart woman did not even glance at her severed appendage as she passed it. Upon finally having reached her goal - for which she had bled quite severely - Jill let out a breath of relief, as it appeared that the bulky generator was merely shut down, and not sabotaged beyond her ability to fix it.

Not wasting any time, Jill quickly set upon activating the generator and after fidgeting for a bit with buttons and levers, she was rewarded for her efforts by a monotonous hum that preceded a painful flash - the sudden reactivation of the lights in the basement level and hopefully, in the villa’s proper, as well.

Only after she was done with the task entrusted to her, did the woman decide to finally address her crippling injury. Trudging towards the nearest wall, Jill leaned hard against it, before unceremoniously slumping in a corner.

Barely able to keep her eyelids from slamming shut and feeling strength being rapidly sapped from her remaining hand, the severely wounded woman let out a tired sigh, before grabbing a small first aid spray from her utility belt and pouring it all over her stump.

Hoping that it would be enough to stop the bleeding and keep the horrible wound from getting infected, Jill passed out. She did what she could, and the rest, as well as her own life - was now in the hands of fate.

 

***

Living Room - First Floor | 11:05 PM.



Chris could only curse as a beam of bluish energies passed mere inches from his head. Attempting to suppress a sniper at this range with his Dragoon rifle - by himself and in the dark, no less, was not a risk-free endeavor, yet he committed to it without hesitation.

Even going beyond the fact that Cassandra was a comrade-in-arms now, and Chris would never shy away from danger for the sake of people he considered as such, there was a certain other feeling at play, as well.

The very notion that the vicious Romanian vampiric B.O.W. that was now risking it all for their sake would perish while he merely watched was unthinkable. The horrid idea evoked a burst of protective rage that allowed Chris’ motor functions to override the instinct of self-preservation that yelled at him to stick to his cover.

Instead, with an adrenaline-fueled focus, the captain rushed towards the other window that had a line of sight at their quarry. Taking just a moment to aim - as every precious moment counted in such situations - Chris squeezed the trigger. In validation of the endless training sessions the captain went through, the burst of gunfire went exactly where Chris wanted it to go - making the sniper fall back behind cover and buying several priceless seconds for Cassandra.

Despite how hard it was to see anything in the accursed darkness, Cassandra’s tall yet slender figure assembling itself seemingly out of thin air allowed the captain to let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. She made it… thank God.

As the fierce Dimitrescu sibling immediately engaged the sniper in her beloved melee combat, the captain knew that his work was done - at least on that front. Glancing towards the living room, Chris saw Leon nearby - taking potshots from the opposite window.

“They are getting slaughtered out there…” Leon’s wary mumble was not reassuring. If even their Delta Force escort was already crumbling, the opposition could be none other than the Replica. With superior training, strength, endurance and reflexes; equipped with the finest gear available and utterly dedicated to whatever mission they were given - they were not a foe to be trifled with.

There was only one way any of them could leave this villa alive - by using a strange device the Hound Wolves managed to recover from the Connection’s more clandestine lab, more than a year ago.

While they still had no real idea what the exact purpose of the enigmatic device was, the one known side-effect had proven itself useful. Upon activation, the device in question produced a ‘psychic scream’-like effect of considerable power, which happened to sever the connection the Replicas had to their commander. That, in itself, was not enough to defeat them, yet it exploited a built-in safeguard that forced them to enter hibernation mode upon an occurrence of exactly such a scenario.

This is how they rescued the moldy gang in Mauritania and this is how they could survive now. Simply activate the device and quietly fly away into the sunset. Of course, with its accumulators burned out during the stunt in Africa, the device now relied exclusively on an external power source, in this case - the villa’s basement generator - which was still offline. He could only hope that Jill would pull through soon...

Adjusting his headset radio, Chris barked a new directive, struggling to do so with the roar of gunfire coming from every direction, “Charlie, you have to activate the device - these are fucking Replicas!”

The response that came was more than a little disheartening. Charlie himself was dead, and apparently only Ethan was anywhere near the helipad. Doing his best to suppress a spike of grief and depression that struck at his heart at yet another brave man giving his life while under his command, Chris did his best to convey the vital importance of activating the device, yet soon their conversation was interrupted by a colossal figure literally smashing through the wall Leon was taking cover behind. 

The well-trained agent managed to roll with the force, avoiding the worst, yet Chris knew this was a dangerous enemy that had just crashed their party. Ending the radio chat with Ethan, Chris took a moment to appreciate the scale of this newest threat.

The juggernaut was a Replica Heavy Armor - an enhanced variant with greatly increased size, strength and survivability; clad in its namesake heavy armor, it was a terror to face in a close-quarter environment such as the living room they all found themselves in.

Luckily for them, the Heavy had clearly seen better days, as a myriad of piercing wounds covered less-protected parts of its body; it obviously favored its right leg as something must’ve damaged the left one severely; a secondary weapon on its left gauntlet was disabled by gunfire; its large orb-like visor was cracked and finally - it lacked its trademark HV Hammerhead anti-armor weapon and challenged them unarmed.

Of course, the term ‘unarmed’ might not quite apply to a 500+ lbs metal-plated monstrosity. With a roar that sounded almost demonic, the Heavy attempted to bash Leon with an overhead smash, yet the agile man simply rolled out of the way, before unloading his entire pistol’s clip into the cursed thing - to no appreciable effects. Chris was quick to add his own Dragoon firepower into the mix, but the Heavy merely angled his oversized pauldron to take the blunt of the damage - it was clearly not a stranger to being shot at.

Seeing the assault rifle armed captain as the bigger threat, the enraged goliath rushed right his way. A barrage of blows from the giant’s armored gauntlets put Chris fully on the defensive, as even a single direct hit from such a mighty foe would no doubt shatter bones and pulverize organs.

Doing his best to dodge out of every telegraphed attack’s way, Chris found himself cornered in between the TV set, the table where the gang played cards and some goddamn shopping cart, full of junk food. Unable to fully avoid the next crushing blow, the captain shoved his assault rifle forward, hoping that it would deflect at least some of the damage. As expected, the strike sent the captain flying, toppling over the cart and creating a small downpour of energy bars and chips bags.

Regaining his footing quickly, Chris hastily inspected his rifle - which turned out to be actually bent from the force of the blow. Discarding his beloved but now ruined gun with no small amount of sadness, the captain had enough of this brute breaking his favorite things.

Making a taunting gesture with his fingers, Chris resumed their little scuffle. The enraged colossus immediately charged forward, hoping to utterly crash the smaller man, yet that’s what Chris wanted. Dodging with a lightning-fast sidestep at the last second, the captain had the satisfaction of seeing the giant impact the large sofa, toppling both himself and the piece of furniture. Before it could regain its footing, Chris brutally shoved his combat knife right where its under-armor was already ruined and dark red blood spilt - the backside of the left knee. Twisting the blade around, the captain barely managed to avoid the skull-cracking backhand that followed.

Leaving the knife stuck in the thing’s flesh, Chris attempted to gain some distance from it once again, with the frothing Heavy stumbling after him - roaring in anger and agony through its by-now deformed helmet. Avoiding the next blow from the enraged goliath, the captain attempted to circle around the card table, yet the giant simply kicked it away, with cards flying everywhere as the result - it seemed like Cassandra and Dion would have to settle on a draw.

As the falling cards blanketed the area, a moment of blindness-induced confusion followed and as the disoriented Heavy passed the large plasma TV set, Leon shoulder-smashed into its side, crashing it into the expensive device, causing sparks to cascade around its armored frame.

Undaunted by uncountable wounds sustained, the monstrous foe immediately attempted to regain its footing, yet only a haymaker of terrifying power met its visored face as it rotated to face its foes. The force of the captain’s haymakers was truly legendary in the B.S.A.A. and now the Replica Heavy knew exactly why as it stumbled backwards, with stars in its eyes and its reinforced visor finally shattered.

Chris winced and shook his poor fist, as striking the damn thing felt much akin to punching that nefarious boulder - except this time, the boulder clearly sought to punch back. Uncaring by his sudden vulnerability, the dazed Heavy started to blindly swing its armored gauntlets around. Nevertheless, its disoriented state presented an opening the captain would not dare to waste. With razor-sharp focus, Chris performed a bold move - dexterously weaving around the wild swings while closing the distance and leveraging his whole bulk to tackle the enormous foe down.

“Finish him!” 

Chris’ roar was audible even through the all-encompassing chaos and Leon didn’t need to be told twice, as the man swiftly jumped on top of the fallen Heavy’s shoulderpads, only to unload his whole pistol’s clip into the goliath’s no-longer protected face. Its struggles ceased as its limbs slackened and it did not attempt to get up again.

“Nice job, David.” Accepting Leon’s offered hand and the comment, Chris got back to his feet, even as he let out a small chuckle at the reference. The momentarily humor died quickly as a distinct lack of gunfire from outside held a dire implication.

As if on cue, John and Dion stumbled back into the living room - panting and covered in sweat and blood - and dragging a third man. With arms around their shoulders, Douglas - delirious from blood loss and with his legs peppered by shrapnel, was not looking like much of a fighter anymore. John himself had a nasty bleeding hole in his left arm - luckily the bullet appeared to have gone through. Only Dion was relatively unscathed, though the horror of the skirmish left his mark - the youthful man's green eyes betrayed the depth of his trauma.

“There are at least two dozen of them outside, captain. They are surrounding the building and will likely push in a coordinated wave… what are you orders?”

The desperation was plain in the youngest Hound Wolf’s voice. Despite being an experienced combatant, the youthful man was afraid of death. And Dion knew an unwinnable fight when he saw one. Chris could share his underling’s apprehension. Despite every horror, every nightmarish monstrosity and every failure the captain lived through - he wanted to live, as well. Lately, in particular, another reason to get up in the morning reared its brunette’s head in Chris’ life.

Unfortunately, there was simply no clear escape route available to the gang. Surely, the enemy would have accounted for their aircraft and had a dedicated unit on standby to shoot it down, were they to attempt to use it. Moreover, they still had a large number of their own unaccounted for: Cassandra, Jill, Emily, Rolando, Rose, Alcina, Daniela and even Anna; even presuming that they could recover Ethan and Bela on their way up, Chris was just not prepared to yield this centralized location and leave his friends and colleagues ripe for the slaughter that would surely follow if Replica were allowed to flood the villa unopposed.

The best chance for survival was holding this very living room - which provided a clear line of sight and lack of cover for invaders, while hoping that Ethan would do his part. Suppressing a shiver of fright and maintaining his tough and calming facade, the captain gave his order.

“We hold our ground here.” Dion was quick to open his mouth, as if in protest, yet a hard glare from Chris was just as quick to force it close again.

The grim-faced and battle-weary squad set on their thankless task of hastily turning every suitable object into an impromptu cover. A sliver of hope appeared without warning - taking the shape of light that suddenly illuminated the room once again. The basement generator was turned on.

Even as he grunted in effort - turning the massive Heavy’s corpse around to make it a solid piece of cover - Chris couldn’t suppress a smirk from breaking through his bloodied face at the implication that his old partner was alive and hopefully well.

Thank God Jill is alright... Now it’s just up to Ethan… and to us.

With the small squad quickly entrenching themselves, tension became palpable, completely overtaking the hope, as a number of heavy-duty boots stomping upon the paved road could be heard, coming from right outside of villa’s entrance.

 

***

Bedroom #4 - Third Floor | 11:02 PM.

A piercing shriek that somehow sounded like a discharge of a powerful weapon to Ethan was what finally broke the duo out of their fear-induced trance. A loud thud came from above shortly - as if something really heavy fell down upon the roof.

Trading reassuring glances with Bela, the pair vacated her small room, eager to rejoin their loved ones - desperate to ensure their safety. Ethan’s cellphone, peeking out of his shirt’s breast pocket, was their only source of illumination in the dark halls.

Bela was armed with her trusty sickle, while Ethan carried a .357 Desert Eagle sidearm - looted seemingly so long ago by his vampiric lover. Hopefully, such modest armament would be sufficient against the threats they were surely about to face.

That particular notion was dispelled quickly as noises of overwhelming automatic gunfire started to come from the villa’s grounds. A pistol and a simple farming tool were hardly an adequate response, but that was all they had at the moment.

Nodding towards the staircase that went down at the end of a long hallway, the pair headed right towards it, yet they did not get far before a commotion attracted their attention. From the other hallway that went perpendicular to their own - the one that led to a staircase that reached towards the roof and the helipad, Charlie ‘Night Howl’ Graham sprinted their way.

The Hound Wolf pilot/mechanic had an expression of desperate resolve on his face, as though he was running from whatever was chasing him not out of fear, but simply out of knowledge that he was hopelessly outmatched and that his death would serve no purpose.

In several seconds he would reach the intersection where the pair awaited - and presumably safety. Ethan’s eyes widened as he beheld the colossal figure that stumbled its way down from the roof access - right behind Charlie. Before Ethan could take in its fearsome appearance, the figure raised its enormous weapon and with pinpoint accuracy and zero hesitation unloaded upon Charlie’s back.

Just as he was about to reach them, a trio of spike-like projectiles found their mark in his back. Their penetrating power was formidable, as they went through Charlie’s kevlar vest as if it was a wet tissue paper. In a grisly display, the spikes remained embedded in his body as their hooked endings carved deep gouges in his flesh. The kinetic energy of the projectiles must have been truly prodigious, as the spikes continued on their course until they reached the hallway’s wall - carrying the poor man’s body along.

Seeing Charlie’s impaled body pinned to the wall in a horrifying display of indescribable brutality, Bela’s own features hardened. They might have not known the pilot for long, or even spoke to him at length, but he was a comrade. A trusted ally. And now he was reduced to a morbid, vomit-inducing wall decoration.

Overcoming his own shock, Ethan finally had a chance to properly take in this new nemesis of theirs. The man’s blood chilled in his veins as he beheld the juggernaut of metal plates that was now slowly but inevitably stomping its way towards them.

It was a humanoid figure, covered from head to toe in heavy metal armor. In a way, it was similar to the armored Tyrant they had encountered on that island facility, yet there were a number of differences. Firstly, it was noticeably more compact, as despite being a head taller than Ethan, it still maneuvered the relatively tight hallway with no issues. Secondly, its bulky, incredibly heavy-looking armor had no signs of being externally or internally powered. The creature had to be carrying all these metal plates by its own, likely inhuman, power.

Despite its fearsome appearance and the brutality of its latest kill, Bela did not hesitate to stand against the colossal foe; her sickle ready and aching for revenge. The heavily-armored giant itself appeared unimpressed with the slender woman in a yellow dress, armed with a mere farming tool, but daring to stand against it.

With what sounded like a muffled masculine chuckle, the Heavy brought his bulky gun to bear on Bela, never slowing down his steady advance in their direction.

When the Heavy opened fire, for a moment Ethan’s breath was caught in his throat as he dreaded his beloved Bela overestimating her endurance and falling prey to the overwhelmingly powerful projectile weaponry. 

Yet his worries for naught as the supersonic spikes that would’ve made a mockery of any modern body armor went through her shimmering body without meeting any resistance.

Not making any boisterous taunts or flaunting her apparent invulnerability, the blonde Dimitrescu flickered her way towards the juggernaut; her buzzing swarm was unleashed and it swiftly engulfed both the woman and the Heavy.

While her flesh-eating insects could not hope to actually harm the juggernaut, as even unarmored parts of its suit were clearly made from reinforced material - most likely kevlar - they served different purposes with admirable efficiency.

A large part of her swarm went directly for a single large ‘eye’ the heavy trooper must’ve used as his primary source of visual input. The black-winged insects covered the sensor completely - possibly blinding the invader. Another ‘wing’ of Bela’s bugs swarmed all over the joints and in between the armor plates - in an effort to probe for possible weakness.

Having learned what she could, while hopefully impairing her adversary, Bela made her move.

With undeniable grace and skill that could only be borne from decades of both training and practice, Bela’s sickle sang the song of bloodshed. In the elder Dimitrescu’s slender hands a simple farming tool turned out to be a formidable weapon, as it sought out the weak points of the armored suit - ignoring the metal plates, while striking at the more vulnerable kevlar material in between. Splotches of dark red blood were quick to appear after each such bite, indicating that Bela was strong enough to pierce even a reinforced fabric.

Like a beautiful butterfly herself, Bela danced around her hulking opponent as she struck out with her sickle again and again. The Heavy’s lumbering swipes with his weapon were easily dodged in return - almost contemptibly so, if Bela’s growing smirk was any indication.

At his inability to strike at the arrogant woman, the juggernaut was growing enraged, as his movements became more and more frantic. Discarding his bulky weapon, the Heavy started punching in rapid succession, meeting only air each time - Bela was simply too agile to be struck by his brutish blows. With a deep roar of anger that had a nearly demonic undertone, the trooper bullrushed with incredible - for its size and bulk - speed, hoping to splatter his vampiric nemesis against the wall.

Instead, only the wall itself met his forearm and the head, as the giant crashed into it violently; with chunks of shattered masonry flying in every direction.

Bela, who had sidestepped the brutal charge at the last possible millisecond took the opportunity to savagely hook her sickle into the trooper’s vulnerable back knee. The roar of pain that followed implied that it hurt quite a bit.

 

At this moment, Ethan, who merely watched the onslaught his lover perpetrated, was truly astonished by the skill, power and the confidence with which she carried herself. A weird, likely inappropriate thought ran through his mind.

Nobody ever gonna bully Rose with a mom like this…

Bela herself, with some amusement gracing her delicate features, took a moment to lick the blood off her drenched sickle. The motion was almost sensual in the way she performed it, making another traitorous and clearly inappropriate for the life-and-death situation thought ran through his head.

She is unbelievably hot...

Bela clearly found the blood lacking in its culinary value, however, as she promptly spat it out, while making a grimace. Unfortunately, that was the moment the juggernaut decided that he had played her games enough.

With a grunt of effort, the damn thing stood up and swiftly rotated around. Only now Ethan could see a small barrel attached to its left gauntlet - which it directed right at Bela.

“Watch out, Bells!”

Even before his warning the keen-eyed vampire leapt to the side with haste, yet it was just not fast enough. A stream of compressed ghost-white, almost gas-like substance shot right at her. Most of it Bela managed to successfully dodge, yet a splosh of rapidly-evaporating liquid was now stuck to her right arm.

Ethan’s heart jumped to his throat as he realized exactly what that gas-like liquid was.

Liquid Nitrogen… Bells is weak to cold… fuck!

As if confirming his grim thought, Bela let loose a piercing shriek of pain, as she fell onto her knees - clearly incapable of even standing, let alone shapeshifting into her swarm to get to safety. Every single bug that was even remotely close to the trajectory of the steam spray fell down in an instant - dead.

The juggernaut apparently was not interested in the notion of letting his opponent recover, as he readjusted the aim of his gauntlet, eager to put an end to Bela Dimitrescu for good.

Ethan would have none of it, however. His first instinct was to shoot the damn cryoweapon but unfortunately, hitting the gauntlet from his current angle was a near impossibility. Instead, the man put his body into a mad sprint to get in between them, even as he fired his pistol on the move. Predictably, the small-caliber gun was ineffective against the heavy armor the trooper wore, yet it bought Ethan enough time to get to his goal - right at the path of the cryogenic substance.

As liquid nitrogen covered his whole frame, Ethan’s body went into an overdrive in an attempt to keep up his internal heat, yet the man never felt as cold as he did in this moment. As his skin rapidly developed frostbite and strength was sapped from his limbs, Ethan briefly questioned if this move was the wisest one, after all.

Bela is worth it…

Suddenly, as the father felt the deathly chill of the grave close by, his moldy heart began to pump at a rate never meant for the human organ. With enriched, over-pressured blood rampaging through his veins, he felt stronger than ever - strong enough to overpower this freezing steam.

I’ve got you, daddy… get ‘em!

Invigorated, the father fought through the continuous exposure to the bone-chilling substance and with clattering teeth, brought his Desert Eagle up. With barely human focus and precision, he aimed it right at the small tube that ran from the cryo-gauntlet towards a small tank on the trooper’s back.

A single squeeze of a trigger later and the deadly weapon was rendered inoperable, as the severed tube splattered liquid nitrogen all over the floor. Ethan was not done, however, as he unloaded the rest of the clip into the Heavy’s visor - cracking, but not shattering it. Nevertheless, even without suffering a penetrating hit, being struck in the head six times with a .357 round was enough to daze the trooper.

An opportunity like that was not to be wasted, so Ethan did something that he never considered doing before: he charged an armor-plated opponent that likely weighed three or four times more than himself. 

A shoulder slam with all of Ethan’s mass and considerable velocity behind it was enough to topple the unbalanced Heavy, all but knocking him into a wall. As luck would have it - it was the same wall the trooper himself smashed into before. The already-weakened structure could not withstand the massive bulk of the Heavy again and promptly collapsed; with the oversized soldier himself tumbling down - only to crash through the first floor’s roof.

His poor shoulder cried in protest at such a grotesque misuse from its owner, as he gaped into a freshly-made hole in the wall and the roof. Wincing in pain, Ethan realized that it was not far from where Chris and the rest likely were. Sorry, Chris… guess you’re the one who will have to deal with that fucking thing now…

 

With the immediate threat to their lives gone, Ethan did not waste a second further before checking up on Bela. Seeing her unenviable condition, the man hastily rushed to her side.

The blonde Dimitrescu was shuddering violently, as she curled up tightly in a desperate effort to preserve at least some of her vital body heat. The deathly pale tint of her skin appeared even more unhealthy than the one she had sported two years ago.

“God, Bells, are you okay!?” The moment the silly question had left his mouth, Ethan mentally cursed himself at the stupidity of it. Of course she wasn’t , not with these blue lips of hers. Despite the fact that liquid nitrogen was a short-lived substance, especially during the reasonably warm French summer night, the man himself still shivered from the exposure - and he had no particular vulnerabilities to biting cold.

Ethan dreaded to consider how bone-chilling the experience had been to her, especially after recalling how a mere light ocean breeze was enough for her to cuddle under a blanket.

Bela struggled to level her gaze Ethan’s way as she murmured out a slurred response, “ ‘m ffffffine. Jjjjust a lil’ ccccold...”

Ethan cupped her cheek with his right hand, while squeezing her own opposite palm with his left. Both of his hands felt nothing but deathly chill at the contact with a normally pleasantly warm woman. The heart-wrenching sight of her shivering, cuddling frame evoked a momentary feeling of pity.

The way her slender hand gripped his own - so weakly , yet with a sense of desperation in it. The way her barely-moving tongue slurred out the empty reassurance. Or the way her eyelids started to slowly close, with even her violent shuddering stilling.

As he took more of her in, a sense of dread started firmly settling within his chest. Bela was not merely cold. With her body unable to maintain temperature needed for vital functions, she was entering a downward spiral. Bela was dying . She didn’t need his goddamn pity. She needed his help.

As he huddled closer to her, Ethan’s frantic mind desperately sought out a solution. If he had a lighter or something, he could’ve started a fire from some random wooden objects in the immediate vicinity. Of course he didn’t. And there was no time to go anywhere, especially with the enemy combatants swarming the area.

As if inspired, a solution suddenly presented itself as Ethan recalled a conversation they had on the Duke’s yacht.

Whenever we need a sudden burst of energy fast, nothing works better than a pint of fresh warm blood for us!

Shaking Bela awake, the man did not hesitate to lightly slap her cheek. Her voice was so meek that Ethan knew he had to act fast. “Mh....Etttthan? ‘m so tired…” Even her half-lidded amber eyes lacked their usual clarity. The woman was fading … fast .

“Stay with me, Bells!”

Comprehension was lacking as she merely hummed something under her breath, before her eyes closed again. Gritting his teeth in frustration, the man did the only thing he could think of.

With a remarkable lack of hesitation, Ethan picked Bela’s discarded sickle, before cutting his own wrist with the bloodied farming tool. The possibilities of exsanguination or infection simply did not register as relevant in his mind at that moment.

Hoping that her body’s natural instincts would emerge from the bloody treat he was about to offer her, Ethan thrust his bleeding hand right before her nose.

To the man’s endless joy, the lovely nose twitched in response to the overpowering aroma of his spilt vital fluid. Without opening her eyes, and shocking the man with the ferocity of the motion, Bela bit right in.

This time, she did not feed upon his blood with tender care and precise motion. Instead, the savagery of her starving mouth made the man bite upon his own lip in an effort to keep his cry of pain to himself.

The agony of her painfully human teeth ravaging his flesh; the vicious sucking motion that followed, was exquisite. Yet the man persevered, nevertheless; even finding his voice to make an attempt at a grim humor, meanwhile. “Ouch, Bells! Guess I shouldn’t have expected that having a vampire girlfriend would be all sunshine and rainbows.”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of torment, the vampire had her fill. With her bloodsoaked mouth notwithstanding, the woman appeared to have entered a peaceful, restorative slumber. Touching her forehead, Ethan let out a sigh of relief as she had warmed up a bit.

With Bela out of the woods, Ethan had other matters to attend. Rose was supposedly attending Daniela’s performance on the second floor - which was likely the safest location in the whole house, yet the father would not be satisfied until he saw his precious child unharmed with his own two eyes.

Leaving unconscious Bela just lying in the hallway did not sit well with him, however, so the man proceeded to carry her back to her room, bridal style.

Giving the woman one more loving peck, Ethan returned back to that blood-soaked hallway. Passing Charlie’s pinned corpse, Ethan stopped at hearing the dead man’s headpiece radio hissing to life.

“Charlie, you have to activate the device - these are fucking Replicas!”

Chris’ voice was unmistakable, even despite its rushed undertones. Wincing in pain from his bruised shoulder, as well as mauled wrist, Ethan wrenched the headpiece from the man that was never going to need it again.

“Charlie is dead, Chris. Where is Rose!?”

A beat of silence passed before the captain responded, with a frightening amount of urgency in his voice.

“Goddamn it! I don’t know, Ethan, but you have to get to the Dragonfly and activate the device that’s in its storage compartment.”

Ethan’s priority lay elsewhere, however. “What I need is to fucking find Rose!”

The sounds of gunfire outside were slowly dying down - indicating that the number of combatants were steadily being reduced. Judging by Chris’ voice - not in their favor.

“Ethan, listen to me now. If someone doesn’t activate that device soon, we are all dead. You. Me. Rose. Bela. Cassandra. All of us.”

Gritting his teeth, the father had no choice but to acknowledge the spoken fact. Chris wouldn’t exaggerate the threat. “I don’t even know how your fucking device looks like or how to activate it…”

The captain only scoffed, before responding. “You’ll know it when you see it, and it's as simple as pressing a button.” A sound of something heavy smashing through stuff was heard from Chris’ side, before the captain let out a curse, “Oh, fuck! They’ve got Heavies, too! Stay alive, Ethan!”

The line went dark. 

Cursing, Ethan’s hand took a moment to relieve the pinned corpse of the several key items: a heavily-customized pistol, a couple of magazines, a combat knife and a small bottle of first aid. “Sorry, Charlie… rest in peace, friend.” Ethan murmured, feeling awful for having to loot the still warm corpse of his comrade, yet not seeing many alternatives.

Without thinking, the father applied some of that magical green herb-derivative spray right at his ravaged wrist. The pain subsided almost immediately, with torn flesh mending quickly - leaving only a patch of red skin and a nasty scar behind - one more for his already extensive collection.

Not wasting any more time, the father rushed right towards the roof access - right where that fucking Heavy came from. On his way, he briefly considered picking up that bulky spike-thrower weapon the juggernaut had discarded, but thought otherwise - it would only slow him down.

As Ethan was about to reach the staircase, a familiar sound stopped him dead in his tracks. That alien electronic disturbance he had heard earlier - the same one that both Bela and himself found to be quite unnerving. He did not get to ponder on it for long, however, as the a window in the middle of the hallway shattered, making the man swiftly turn around, with pistol raised and ready to fire.

To his surprise, Ethan saw nothing. Just that same bloodied and ruined hallway, with Charlie still pinned to the wall that was opposite of him.

Daddy… we are not alone!

Eveline’s voice was his only warning, as an invisible figure rushed to strike at Ethan. While in motion, a slight shimmering effect betrayed its position, allowing Ethan to dodge a pair of wicked blades at the last possible moment. A gust of wind, and it was gone again.

Turning around in near panic, Ethan was desperate to locate the assassin again, yet he could see nothing. The stealth capabilities of that thing must’ve been even more pronounced when it remained still, allowing it to remain undetected to all but the keenest of observers.

I’ll help you see it!

A spike of pain in his head preceded an unfamiliar sensation, as Eveline attempted to take direct control of his visual receptors. Apparently this new ‘boon’ of hers was even more intrusive than her occasional phantasm that would visibly appear; Ethan felt like his head was going to crack.

Regardless of pain, the man swirled his cellphone turned flashlight around, until he saw it. Or, more precisely, he saw its figure roughly outlined in helpfully bright red, as if it was some kind of an amateurish comic book character.

The silhouette was attached to the hallway’s ceiling and was slowly crawling towards Ethan, making the hairs stand up straight on the father’s neck. In almost pitch darkness, with just himself and Eveline against that nearly-invisible deadly assassin, this was probably one of the scariest moments Ethan had ever experienced.

The man was sweating hard, yet biting back his fear he found himself determined to live through it. Collecting his resolve, in a blink of an eye Ethan had his gun pointed right towards the figure. Seeing the threat, the assassin attempted to pounce right at the father, yet the man was a quick pull with his trigger finger and filled the invisible fiend full of lead.

Charlie’s customized USM-AI pistol had quite an impressive rate of fire, as merely one second later, the assassin’s body fell right at Ethan’s feet - with nine more breathing holes in it.

The critically-wounded assassin, now decloaked, appeared to be a male figure, dressed from head to toe in some kind of grey fiberglass-like suit - now covered by dark red blood. The figure still twitched, as he feebly attempted to get up, making Ethan unload the rest of the clip right into the man’s head, ending him for good.

Letting out a deep sigh of relief at defeating such a deadly foe, Ethan quickly and with practiced efficiency reloaded the handgun. As he turned around to get back on track, a spike of indescribable agony rushed through his hand.

Leaping backwards - and seeing a twin blade slashing right where his head had been a millisecond ago, Ethan gasped in shock and pain, as a terrible realization came to him. The assassin wasn’t alone.

And now, all he had to combat the next foe was his bleeding stump, as his right hand - cut at the wrist and still clutching the handgun - was lying in a small pool of his own blood.

Seeing his foe quite literally disarmed, the second assassin leaped from his place at the ceiling. Apparently, this one made an effort to stay out of Ethan's line of sight, unlike his colleague which trusted fully in his chameleon-like suit. With a derisive scoff, the second assassin punted Ethan’s poor hand far away from the suffering father.

Clutching the combat knife in his left hand, Ethan gulped in thinly-veiled fright as he clearly saw exactly how badly outmatched he was in this scenario. Realizing that he would never be able to outrun the hyper-agile freak, the man found himself determined to fight to the death.

The assassin made no sound, yet the disabled camouflage and almost lax pose indicated amusement at Ethan’s last stand. Slowly, the would-be murderer started to slowly, almost leisurely walk towards the injured father. Clearly, he was assured of his inevitable victory.

As the assassin ambled past the window, a piercing shriek of an energy weapon being discharged was preceded by a lance of bluish light striking the aggressor right in his side.

Ethan’s eyes grew wide in shock as he beheld his formidable foe disintegrating faster than he could blink. In an instant the no-doubt expensive chameleon suit was vaporized, and a moment later the assassin’s flesh was seared from his bones. One second more and where stood the assassin, only a charred skeleton remained, with electric sparks visibly running across its blackened bones. Another moment, and the skeleton - with no force holding it upright - collapsed in a heap, with black smoke trailing off it.

 

Carefully approaching the fallen assassin, Ethan dared to peek outside the window to witness his savior, while squinting his eyes to see through the veil of night.

From quite some distance, on a small hill overlooking the villa, stood the unmistakable tall but slender figure of Cassandra. The Dimitrescu daughter held a bulky weapon of some kind with her right hand, as she gave him a wave with a free one.

If Ethan still had his right hand, he would’ve surely returned the wave, as in that moment he wanted to do nothing more but to kiss that cruel woman in gratitude.

Suddenly inspired by his emerging gallows humor, Ethan promptly picked up his severed hand, before using the poor appendage to wave to his savior. From this distance, he could not tell if she appreciated or even saw his gesture, yet his knowledge of the brunette Dimitrescu’s keen eyes, as well as violent and sadistic ways leaned strongly towards the positive.

Not wasting any more time, the moldy survivor repeated the procedure he had the misfortune of living through - several times, already.

Applying a fair amount of first aid spray to both stumps, the man connected them together - making his hand whole again. Using the rest of the spray around the bloody incision line, the father grit his teeth as his inhuman regeneration kicked in. 

Try as he might, Ethan could not contain a scream of raw anguish as his bone melded, flesh and muscle knitted together and dead nerve endings reignited - flaring in unimaginable agony. Offhandedly, he noted that the lights in the hallway turned back on, yet in that moment, the implications were completely lost on Ethan.

It never gets easier…

Panting hard from the excruciating intensity of the process, Ethan took a moment to catch his breath, before giving his hand an experimental shake. It worked just fine, to his relief.

 

Having little time left to lose - as gunfire outside almost stopped - yet its brutal sounds coming from the first floor only intensified; Ethan rushed forward towards the roof access.

Soon the man found himself out on the villa’s roof with his goal - the Dragonfly - in sight, a mere 4-second long sprint away from him, in fact.

Yet his palpable relief at seeing the Dragonfly hovercraft with his prize inside was soon replaced by an intense feeling of dread. Right above his destination, a large military gunship was hovering in silent menace. The moment Ethan’s feet touched the rooftop, its decidedly-deadly looking under nose-mounted chaingun swirled his way. 

Ethan felt strength being sapped from his muscles as his vivid imagination unhelpfully conjured an image of him being torn to shreds by the brutal weapon that now had him in its sights. Suddenly, a distance of a dozen yards appeared as infinitely long in his mind.

Frozen, the blood and grime-covered father could only hope that someone - anyone - would appear to lend him a hand.

Notes:

First thing's first - sorry for the big delay! Other than being absorbed into Dota 2 International, this was definitely the biggest chapter I've ever written. While a fun experience, I also found it to be quite hard to work with such a huge chapter, especially while putting on the finishing touches, so I doubt I'll write more than 10k words/chapter in this story again.

A little sidenote about the enemies the gang faced in this chapter, in case you're curious about how they looked like - I'd borrowed them directly from F.E.A.R. game series. The ordinary troopers (the one Daniela faced) are based upon FEAR 1' sniper Replica; the one Cassandra faced was an elite variant from the same game; while the assassins and the Heavy are based upon their FEAR 2 counterparts, with less armor for the former.

I was looking forward for quite some time to writing this chapter, so I hope it was an enjoyable read and I'd love to read any kind of questions or feedback you might have for me, my dear readers :) Have a great week and stay safe!

Chapter 36: The Abyss of Hope

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Rooftop | 11:20 PM.

Charlie’s pistol fell out of Ethan's slackened grip. For all of his defiance, the man was still a realist, and he knew how worthless the sidearm was against this particular foe.

“A goddamn attack chopper… you gotta be fucking kidding me…”

As the man mumbled out the damning words, he mentally prepared himself to be torn apart by the high-caliber chain gun that now firmly had him in its sights. It would take a miracle to survive this. Not even Eveline would be able to put him back together if that weapon let loose on his feeble mortal flesh.

Clearly not interested in his prayers or hopes, the barrel of the chain gun sparkled as it let out a hailstorm of lethal projectiles - all missing their mark by a wide margin - not something Ethan considered possible at the distance involved. Shortly after firing, the chain gun itself exploded in a shower of sparks - making Ethan once again a believer in higher powers.

Awestruck, the man could only watch as the disarmed helicopter gained some altitude, before rotating around to face a threat Ethan could not quite see, thanks to the impenetrable darkness of the night.

Flabbergasted, but not one to look the gift horse in the mouth, the father made a mad dash towards the Dragonfly and the prize inside - the device that could save them all, according to Chris. Not wasting time, Ethan jumped right inside the aircraft’s open side door, before slamming the storage compartment open. 

A brief but likely irrelevant thought flashed across his mind, as he glanced around the small storage space. This is where that Anna girl hid out, huh.

And just like Chris said - the device in question was immediately obvious to Ethan’s eyes. Composed entirely of some kind of dark-gray alloy; with a solid foundation, and a spherical body, it looked quite odd, especially next to ordinary military crates the rest of the storage hold was stocked up with.

The device appeared to have suffered some damage - with its stocky foundation having burn marks all across its surface. Still, it was seemingly functional, with a large cable running from a slot in its frame to a power transmission unit in the aircraft’s guts.

Without thinking too much, pressing on a big red button, Ethan expected something marvelous to happen, yet only the device’s display had lit up, showering the man in annoying warnings.

 

Warning! Accumulators 1 through 8 depleted! Alternative source of power available.

Warning! Gellar Suppressor unresponsive! Activating this Wade Projector will cause Class-SP hazard to occur in its immediate proximity!

Initiate Psychic Purge? 

 

That caused father to pause - for just a second. The second message clearly implied that activating the device would be quite hazardous to his own health. Swallowing his fright, Ethan found resolve in the simple fact that Rose and Bela were in trouble, and according to Chris only this device could save them. His own health and well-being be damned, the man found himself clicking the “Yes’ prompt that appeared on the display, only to let out a sigh of frustration, as the display message changed to a following one - 

 

Charging, stand by.

 

“Fuck! Hurry up!” Gritting his teeth, Ethan could do nothing but wait as the device completed its charging up cycle. Every second it stalled, one of his friends down there could be dying… Mercifully, less than a minute later, the device - which was notably cold to the touch now, again changed the display message.

 

Confirm Psychic Purge?

 

“Yes!” yelled Ethan, as he all but slammed his fist against the display.

In response, the device let out a small hum, before it grew to an utterly deafening pitch, just to vanish completely in the next second - taking every other sound along the way. The sensation of all noise being vacuumed out was not a pleasant one, and Ethan found himself clutching his head in excruciating agony, before losing consciousness altogether.

 

***

 

Avenue des Caroubiers - five km. away from B.S.A.A. Safehouse FR-4 | 11:05 PM.

Millie knew something was wrong when their sedan crossed an intersection and the world around them succumbed to darkness. From her front passenger seat, the dark-haired woman warily glanced towards the unlit streets they hurriedly, yet carefully passed by.

While the majority of the locals had likely retired to their dwellings for the night, a large number of people - tourists and locals alike - no doubt unhappy because of their plans for the evening and early night being ruined by the blackout - were still milling around the darkened streets.

Worse yet, a number of minor car accidents had occurred, as tired drivers were taken by surprise by the sudden blackout that had affected the traffic lights as well.

Outside the car, confusion and chaos reigned supreme. Feeling anxiety crippling throughout her body, Millie risked a glance towards her cellphone.

No signal.

The unease that was tingling in the pit of her stomach turned into a full-blown fright at that simple message the screen displayed. Surely a localized blackout would not be able to affect nearby cell sites? Was this something more nefarious?

As her fearful mind started conjuring horrible scenarios, Millie couldn’t help herself but to start biting her nails - a nervous habit she thought she got over. Glancing at the driver in a bid to draw some composure from her brother-like figure, Millie felt some of her worries melt. Tom is always so reliable… I am still shocked he actually met us on the airstrip only to drive us here himself...

“This situation arouses suspicion...” offered Tom, parroting the Duke’s manner of speech - making them both burst out in laughter, before the man had to frantically swirl the wheel to avoid colliding with a speeding minivan, “Jesus! Fuck!”

“Whoa there, cowboy! I didn’t sign up for this shit to die in a car accident.” The remark came from the backseat passenger, who was casually lounging on the soft leather seat as he smoked his goddamn cigar.

Trying to wave the toxic smoke out of her face, Millie found herself gritting her teeth yet again at her newfound father’s less than pleasing antics. During their fated meeting in Australia’s Nowhereland, the journey towards the Alice’s Springs airport that followed and the flight itself, Millie had plenty of time to learn about Karl’s many quirks that left much to be desired when present in his esteemed company.

Still… the black-haired woman found herself eminently happy to be reunited with her blood relative. Not only for obvious reasons such as that he was her father, or that his powers would likely come handy quite soon, but for something else, as well. Despite his callous and aloof exterior, she could tell the rough man cared . Karl Heisenberg cared about his sister/nemesis Alcina Dimitrescu and her three adopted daughters. Perhaps, one day, he would care about her - his own daughter, as well…

Nevertheless, such musings could wait, as their car reached a remote road turn that would lead them right to the B.S.A.A. safehouse - which was blocked by some barriers with “Road Work” signs on them. With the car decelerating as it approached the barriers, Millie had a moment to glance at the workers having a smoke. 

The workers in their hardhats appeared normal - at a first glance. At a second one, however, something distinctly unusual about their get-up and behavior became apparent to the observant woman. Not only were they lacking any kind of tools for their trade, but they also had a peculiar dangerous glint in their eyes, as well as their right hands close to their pants - where a combatant would normally have a concealed pistol holster.

I trust my intuition… and my intuition tells me that something here stinks...

The woman did not need to think upon this for long, before giving out a crisp command to her brother. She knew that he trusted her intuition, as well.

“Ok, I don’t like this one fucking bit… Step on it, Tom!”

With some minor hesitation, the man let out a, “Uhm… if you say so.” 

Pressing hard on the gas pedal, Tom sent their vehicle into a roaring charge against the plastic barriers, easily breaking through them, while scattering the ‘workers’. Looking in the side mirror, Millie caught a glance of one of them hurriedly screaming into a radio.

Karl was clearly not amused at being hurled around like a ragdoll in his backseat at the violent motion the car performed. “Damn! You kids are crazy…”

“Sorry, Mr. Heisenberg…” meekly offered Tom, still not used to being in the nefarious Lord’s presence, but Millie was not listening to them anymore, as her attention was firmly fixed upon what awaited them at the end of this particular deserted road.

Their destination - the villa’s large gates that lead to the private property - were smashed open, with a trio of unmarked black vans parked both outside and inside the property. As their speeding sedan got closer to the broken gates, a pair of black-clad soldiers took a step from behind the villa’s ground’s perimeter wall that previously concealed them and opened fire - as if forewarned. 

In a show of dazzling sparks, the sedan’s windshield experienced a rainfall of 9mm bullets that cascaded upon it - denting and cracking the bullet-proof glass, but not shattering it. Still, the horrifying display forced Millie to close her eyes and let out a shriek of fright. Being shot at was not something she ever was going to get used to - or wanted to get used to. She wanted to ski in the Alps and to sip on hot cocoa afterwards, goddamn it. I am so retiring after this… better be a waitress with a minimum wage than this fucking shit...

Still with her eyes closed as she considered the simple fact that she wanted to be anywhere but here, Millie experienced the following rapid sequence of events through sound alone. Tom’s slamming the brakes - causing the high-tension screech as the wheel fought against the paved ground; a loud thump as if something very heavy just fell on the ground; a complete cessation of gunfire coming their way.

Opening one eye, Millie quickly saw the reason for the hostile soldiers’ lack of further aggression - one of the vans that was behind the troopers somehow toppled over - right on top of them, crushing their lower bodies under its massive weight.

The mean chuckle coming from the backseat was quick to indicate the source of the anomaly, making Millie’s lips split into a wide grin as she glanced backwards. She could never even hope to budge a 5000 lbs vehicle, let alone topple it, yet her father achieved such a remarkable feat with contemptible ease, if his cocky grin was any indication.

This was not a time for back-patting or amazement, however. Their customers turned comrades-in-arms were clearly in grave danger, and the trio of newest arrivals had to act quickly if they wanted to aid them. Exiting their vehicle, Karl, Millie and Tom risked a quick look around to assess the situation.

The two masked soldiers that were now feebly and fruitlessly trying to crawl from underneath the toppled van were an enigma - yet they demonstrated an inhuman level of resilience, considering that they were still trying to move, even while having their lower bodies crushed. Despite the vomit-inducing sight, the masked troopers were hardly the most terrifying aspect of the grisly scene.

Not far from the ruined gates, five corpses were lying in pools of their own blood. The dead bodies were dressed in casual summer outfits - which carried a chilling implication. These were no combatants, but a group of tourists who, most likely, had been simply enjoying a late evening walk and appreciating the local breathtaking scenery before the blackout had occurred. And because they were in the wrong place, at the wrong time, they were gunned down without mercy or hesitation - even in a death, the bloodied corpse of a girl was clutching a young man’s hand - possibly her boyfriend. They were not even given a chance…

Seeing the callous slaying of innocents hardened Tom’s heart. In an uncharacteristic fit of cold rage, the normally kind and composed man swiftly unholstered his .44 Magnum, only to deliver two deafening shots into the heads of the trapped troopers.

Having nothing to say at the sight of her brother-like figure executing two wounded combatants - not exactly in the mood to quote Geneva Convention at him, Millie gave a simple, but hesitant nod. She could probably count it as mercy kills, anyway...

Exchanging brief glances, the trio moved forward, entering the villa’s courtyard - only to beheld a massacre of an even greater scale. The safehouse’s grounds were a battleground, with almost two dozen of slain combatants littering the uneven and blood-soaked field. 

The two masked soldiers that they had bested near the gates were merely sentries, it appeared - with the attacking force itself seemingly overwhelmingly numerous - having crushed the defenders, they were all converging on the villa itself. There were more than two dozen of them...

Karl, however, had no eyes for the enemy grunts who were flooding the large house. Instead, he focused his lifelike cybernetic eye - the one he had grafted onto himself during his long tenure in Australia, in a bid to stack up the odds in his favor in any further life-or-death confrontations he might find himself, such as this one - on one person who stood atop the villa’s rooftop. Thanks to the little toy, even from that distance and in the darkness of the night, he could tell who that man was.

Ethan fucking Winters…

And opposing Ethan was a war machine of formidable proportions - a large, heavily armored and well-armed helicopter gunship. The deadly barrel of its nose-mounted chaingun was about to turn the man that had freed Karl from Miranda’s grasp into mincemeat any second now.

Not on my watch, it won’t.

Willing the electric organ that was right next to his heart to life, Heisenberg harnessed the power of electromagnetism that were his blessing and his curse. With decades of practice behind him, the man was able to focus the vast power that begged to be let loose into a single but precise ray of energy, that reached all the way from him to the distant helicopter.

With a mental tug - which his supernatural power replicated, the chain gun started to visibly strain under pressure as two opposing forces came to blows: the power of Karl Heisenberg that pulled hard on it, as did the power of its hydraulics that demanded it to stay on target.

The powerful vehicular weapon fired, yet the 30 mm shells went widely off-course as the hardened steel barrel of the weapon was being bent by the unseen forces. Sustaining critical damage to its own structure, from its own firepower, the whole weapon system exploded - making Karl’s rough lips twist into a self-satisfied smirk.

I’ve still got it.

Apparently, the pilot of the gunship was not amused by the loss of his primary weapon, however, and somehow knew from where exactly the electromagnetic interference came. The gunship, bereft of its chain gun but hardly disarmed - as it demonstrated its missile racks - gained altitude and rotated around to face Heisenberg and his newest friends.

“Ehm… What do we do!?”

Heisenberg only scoffed at Millie’s panicked inquiry. Instead of answering, he took a moment to appreciate the scale of the threat they now faced - not with mere eyes, but his other, more than human senses.

Over nine tons in weight, with twin turboshaft engines rated to support half again as much while traveling at subsonic speeds… Composed of advanced alloys of metal, plastics and ceramics… Damn.

Not liking what he felt, Karl realized that he could not hope to overpower this vehicle with his raw strength alone - he’d have to get creative - and fast, as the helicopter was clearly getting into a position to attack.

“Millie, cover me.”

To his unvoiced delight, the young woman heeded his command immediately and leapt to his side. This was not the kind of father-daughter bonding moment he was expecting to have when he decided to embark on this foolhardy endeavor, yet it will have to do.

Taking a moment further to probe the aircraft for weakness - he had found it. The primary rotor was made out of almost pure titanium, with just a bit of steel to give the material extra strength. With a large surface area and agreeable composition, that was the part he could affect the most.

With a mental tug, the man pulled on the rotor with all of his formidable ferrokinetic powers behind him. As he attempted to stop the rotation of the blades, the resistance against his powers was truly immense, straining the man’s concentration and focus to its very limits. Still, his efforts clearly bore fruit as inky-black smoke started to trail from the rotor, implying that the complex machine that operated it was reaching its own limit.

Unfortunately, in this state of hyper-concentration, Karl did not even see a single missile that launched right from the aircraft’s right under-wing mount - guided to strike right against the straining - and therefore superheated Cadou mutant. Even with his own impressive levels of regenerations and mold-hardened body, surviving a direct hit from an anti-armor missile such as the one that was streaking towards him now was a simple impossibility.

The only one who stood between Karl Heisenberg and fiery doom was his long-lost daughter, Millicent Stout. The sharp-witted woman took his verbal command with utmost commitment, and she was not going to allow this missile to reach its intended target. 

Stopping it dead in its tracks was out of the question - Millie’s own electromagnetic organ - inherited from her father, but underdeveloped and shrunken at birth due to deteriorated and imperfect genetics - simply lacked the raw power to directly challenge the missile’s rocket engine. Instead, the young woman focused all of her effort on merely adjusting the trajectory. Just a bit to the left, and they would be safe...

Yanking on the missile’s nose with her long-reaching electromagnetic powers, Millie found her head and the cursed organ in her chest to resonate with excruciating agony. This was not a mere pen she was trying to manipulate anymore, but a rocket-powered engine of a military-grade missile. Still, she was determined not to fail her father, and put every single ounce of effort she could find into the telepathic yank. The missile’s onboard flight computer fought against her efforts to adjust its trajectory and it took everything she had to not collapse against the pressure that was mounting inside of her body...

...The missile streaked right past their small company, searing her skin with its engine’s scorching trail, before impacting one of the black vans behind them - exploding in a fiery inferno that consumed the whole vehicle.

To Millie, however, it barely mattered, as the agony of her overused unnatural organ proved crippling. With a gasp of shock, as blood was trailing freely from her numerous ruptured blood vessels - some in the nasal cavity, while some - far more dangerous - inside her skull, the woman tumbled to the ground.

The last three things Millie Heisenberg saw was her father - falling onto his knees from exhaustion of his own colossal effort; the helicopter itself - crashing into the ground; as well as a pair of familiar strong hands catching her own fading frame.

 

***

 

Music Room - Second Floor | 11:15 PM.

 

The lights were back on, yet all they achieved was allowing the musical room's sole standing occupant to behold the carnage to its fullest. From the unending horror surrounding her, Rosemary Winters wanted to do nothing more but to cuddle into a ball, cry her eyes and scream her throat out.

To her right, was a headless body of Emily Berkhoff - a tough woman that had, nevertheless, shown her nothing but kindness. And in return, Rose did nothing but watch as she got decapitated by a monstrous assassin. Now, she could not even force herself to peek at the severed head, lying some feet away from the neck it rightfully belonged to.

To her left, a pair of masked bodies exuded an overwhelmingly pungent odor. One glance at the mutilated, semi-crushed corpses and the viscera around them was enough to paralyze the poor girl.

Behind her, Lady Dimitrescu was entangled with the scary man that had attacked Emily and Daniela. Both the noblewoman and the assassin were prone on the floor, but only the lady herself showed signs of life as she tried to fruitlessly free herself from his deathly grasp. With the gunfire outside having stopped, Alcina’s pained gasps were the only sound that accompanied Rosie’s own whimpering sobs.

But the worst sight presented itself right in front of the three year old child. Her beautiful new friend - kind and cheerful Dani - was now lying in a pool of her own dark black blood; with a horrific gash in her abdomen, in addition to numerous smaller gunshot wounds peppering her mauled body. The redhead was not moving at all and her skin was rapidly losing color; she did not appear to even breathe anymore.

No matter where the tiny girl looked, only death and decay was there to greet her. No child should’ve ever been presented with such a grisly scene. 

Few adults would’ve been able to keep their composure in Rosie’s shoes, so it was not surprising that the poor child - overwhelmed by the sights, the smell and the sound of death and misery broke down. Falling to her knees, the girl let out a piercing cry of anguish as she grasped Daniela’s cold, unmoving palm.

“No!!! Dani...Wake up! Please…”

The redhead did not move an inch, no matter how hard Rose cried for her or how hard the girl shook her hand.

“Daddy… Evie… we need help! Please… somebody, help Dani!”

Rosie’s cries of desperation were not in vain. Like a demon...or an angel whose name was invoked, Eveline’s phantom appeared.

The black-haired ghastly girl appeared distraught, yet whatever troubled her gave way to Rose’s plight as she took in the situation. Upon seeing her friend, Rose was quick to let out a pleading murmur, “Dani…”

To which Eveline responded without missing a beat, “is dying…”

“No!!!”

Rose’s shriek of denial shook even the ghostly girl to her core. The empathetic child, brought to the brink of despair, was about to fully break down, yet a single deathly-cold, yet familiarly small palm on her shoulder was enough to hold her together.

“Hold it together, sister. All is not lost yet.” It was the first time Eveline referred to Rose with such a term of address, or spoke with such maturity in her tone, yet the tiny girl found infinite comfort in both her words and her ghostly palm on her shoulder.

“We can help her. You can help her.”

“Me..?” The single whispered word was laced with disbelief, yet Eveline only scoffed at her younger sister’s lack of faith.

“Yes, you, Rosemary Winters. You’re more powerful than you think. Than anybody thinks. More powerful than I ever was...” Combining her inspiring speech with a shocking gesture - Eveline thrust her freezing hand right through Rose’s heart, grasping the delicate organ in her immaterial digits. “Can’t you feel it? The power that is your birthright? The mold calls to you!”

And Rose could feel it. That alien inky black darkness that was always somewhere beyond her sight, always lurking in the shadows. It felt wrong… inhuman … yet… It also felt like her . Like it was an undeniable part of Rosemary Winters. Her very essence. “Yes.... I can feel it.”

“Good! Now…” Evie’s intangible hand retreated from Rose’s chest, only to grasp her hand - to guide it to Daniela’s mutilated body - placing it firmly above the terrible stomach wound, “...feel her mold! In her blood, in her heart - it's her everything ! Just… close your eyes… and feel it!”

Nodding, Rose shut her eyelids tight and focused all of her attention on Daniela’s blood smeared skin… and what lay beneath it. The mold, Eveline had called it. Rosie had heard daddy mention that particular word a few times - always with revulsion in his voice as he spat it out like a curse. And now she knew that It was that inky-black darkness inside of her. And it was inside of Daniela, as well. Was she evil? Were they both monsters..? It just didn’t matter at this moment...

With her eyes closed, she could see it clearly. How it runs throughout Daniela’s body, mixed in with her blood. Eveline did not lie - it was Daniela’s everything . But it was not well. The living, oil-like substance was chaotic and directionless, as if it was in its death throes, as was its host. It coursed through Daniela’s veins aimlessly, doing more harm than good in its panicked rout.

“You can fix that. You know where it has to go.” As if reading her mind - she probably did - Eveline was quick to offer advice. And Rosie was as quick to heed it, for even her young mind saw the problem. The life-giving inky-black substance had retreated from the horrible gushing wound that was right above Daniela’s navel. Instead, it fought its way towards her limbs, as if trying to escape its inevitable demise - to prolong its existence within the still-living tissue. Without direction, it was a simple parasite - unable to grasp the meaning of a long-term benefit over a short-term loss.

“Direct it back! Will it back!” Eveline continued to egg her on; her ghostly palm never leaving Rosie’s own - feeling everything she felt, seeing everything she saw. It was a perfect symbiosis.

Not comprehending it rationally, but understanding the task on an instinctual, genetic level, the tiny child commanded Daniela’s mold to return to the horrible injury - to plug the gap. FIX IT! FIX DANI!

And it obeyed. The mold listened to Rosemary Winters.

From Daniela’s legs, from her hands, a stream of inky-black cells - each a living organism in its own right, rushed right back towards the grisly wound its host sustained. The animalistic reflex to prolong its existence was overridden by a will that was unknown to them, yet it was acknowledged as a superior directive without resistance.

With incredible efficiency, it started on its task. Converting the recently devoured blood and flesh of the consumed Replica Trooper into raw energy - the building blocks of life itself, the mold cells flooded the penetrating wound, each of them morphing, duplicating, growing to fill the gaps. Directed by a superior will and understanding their task, the mold cells worked in perfect unity and with incredible, completely unnatural speed. Shattered spinal column was mended first. Then the ruptured organ tissue was replaced by a new one. Torn blood-vessels were hewn back together. Mutilated flesh regrown whole, once again. Finally, the broken skin reconnected, leaving no trace of it ever being damaged.

And Rosie could see it all. How the mold worked its magic akin to a hive of bees - fixing her friend. Opening her eyes again, the child beheld the marvel she herself willed to existence. The once horribly-mutilated abdomen of Daniela now consisted of nothing but pristine, baby-soft skin.

“We are not done, yet!” Like a wise mentor, Eveline directed her hand up - now placing it firmly above Daniela’s heart. It was not beating…

“Mold contains so much energy… so much power… free it!”

Rose understood exactly what she needed to do - somehow. Like if a stream of data went directly from Eveline’s consciousness into Rose’s mind. Even though she would never be able to convert it to words, she knew what to do, and that’s all that mattered. She could save her friend.

Gritting her teeth in effort as sweat started to bead from her tiny brows, Rose willed the moldy cells around Daniela’s heart to break apart. The energy that was unleashed was quick to arc in static around the delicate organ, before converging on a single spot - only to smash powerful, invigorating current right into it.

Beat… Beat. Beat.Beat.Beat.Beat.

With a shocked gasp of a drowning victim, Daniela shot her torso upright, as her wild eyes took in the scenery. But she was not the same person that the youngest Winters played with before...

Rosie’s joy at seeing her friend alive once again was soon replaced by fright as Daniela’s normally kind and joyful eyes held nothing but rage and hunger as she beheld her. The lovely full lips that were so often smiling gently down on her were now twisted into a vicious grimace, showing a mouth full of sharp, blood-stained teeth.

This was not the cheerful redhead that had played piano or violin for her, that told her funny jokes or engaged her in a series of hide and seek games - that had awoken now.

This was a merciless beast that had mauled and devoured the men that had attacked them. A blood-starved creature that knew nothing but hatred and famine. A monster. How many humans had met their end at her gnashing teeth or cruel sickle? Hundreds? More?

Am I...her next meal?

Rosie couldn’t help but think such fearful thoughts as Daniela’s feral amber orbs took her in. Frightened, the small child closed her eyes again, while cuddling into a protective ball and finally breaking physical contact with her redheaded friend who was now looking so very scary.

“...”

To her shock, instead of tearing her flesh with her teeth - like she had seen her do to these bad men, Rosie felt a pair of powerful, but gentle hands taking her into a tight embrace.

“...we... protect…”

The creature that was Daniela growled out a slurred statement, struggling to form words, as if human language was an alien concept to it. But it was enough for Rose to understand that her friend was still there somewhere; that Dani would never harm her. She felt safety, as if her father himself held her right now. The child smiled, while coiling her tiny arms around Daniela’s torso. She was safe, and now - suddenly - so very tired.

“It’s alright. What you did right now took a lot out of you...sleep now, sister and rest. I’ll handle everything else…”

Eveline’s loving voice was the last thing Rosemary Winters heard before the darkness engulfed her. With a cute yawn, the tiny girl fell into a deep slumber, content in the knowledge that she made a difference.

Unknowingly to now peacefully-sleeping Rose, Alcina had managed to free herself from her assailer about half-way throughout the nearly-magical procedure and was simply gaping at her in wonder as she did her work.

As she beheld the cuddling pair with utter astonishment, the countess finally understood what exactly Miranda saw in this child, seemingly so long ago. It was a miracle what she just did for her Daniela. But more than just healing her fading flesh, somehow, the youngest Winters managed to tame the inner beast that had plagued her beloved daughter for so long - something even she herself, her adoptive mother, struggled with.

The noblewoman felt tears prickling at her eyes as she edged closer to the huddling pair, taking them both in a loving embrace of her own - making sure not to cut her lovely dove with her still-elongated nails. Alcina found herself unable to retract the blades, but that just didn’t matter at the moment. Her beautiful ladybug was alive and well… thanks to Ethan Winter’s child… the child she herself watched taken apart with nary a word of protest.

“Mama…” the feral side of Daniela grunted out, relaxing in her familial embrace, nevertheless. And how Alcina wanted to shower the love of her life with words of affection and reassurance, yet her broken jaw would allow no sounds to part from her mouth. Instead, the countess merely tightened her hug, conveying the meaning through touch alone.

It’s alright, my beautiful dove. Everything is fine… Sleep now, and rest. You both have suffered enough for today...my children...

Surrounded by nothing but death and misery there was love… and hope.

 

***

 

Living Room - First Floor | 11:15 PM.

 

In his long and storied career, Chris Redfield had faced, and indeed prevailed against a truly staggering amount of bloodthirsty critters that wanted to do nothing else but to tear the man limb-from-limb. 

Ravenous but dimwitted Zombies and Molded; feral, yet eminently deadly animal-based B.O.W.s such as Hunters or Lickers; almost human-like in their intelligence and usage of tools Majini, J’avo and Lycans; towering, compounded threats such as Tyrants and various advanced mutations of aforementioned beasties; and of course, one could not forget the humans themselves, unpredictable in their treachery and cruelty - Chris saw them all, and lived to tell the tale. 

The sheer variety of the monstrous foes the captain vanquished was mind-boggling. Very few living humans even came close to Chris in that grim count, and as luck would have it - one of them shared the very room with the bulky captain. The rookie cop turned international agent turned high-standing government official was no slouch when it came to deadly combat himself. By all rights, Chris Redfield and Leon Scott Kennedy should’ve been a nigh-unstoppable duo, but this day, they found themselves badly outmatched.

Their swiftly-concocted plan to hold the Replica Troopers back in the living room was put to a serious stress test the moment it left its inception phase. Borrowing the best of all worlds, Man and Monster, alike, the Replica Force eagerly demonstrated why so many considered them a premier fighting force in the current year of 2023.

 

A small explosive was used to blast open the entrance doors. The very next second, preceded by a couple of flashbangs, the Replica soldiers fearlessly advanced through the killzone the long hallway imposed.

Chris and his comrades, fighting through the blinding flashes and deafening bangs, had only two seconds to make their first move, granted to them by their defensive position.

In a show of nearly inhuman composure and preternatural focus, Chris unloaded half of his USM-AI’s clip into the first masked aggressor who crossed the threshold - all of them clean headshots. The hockey-mask like faceplate of the Replica Trooper stopped the first three rounds, but the rest went cleanly through the weakened material, ending the soldier’s life. The second trooper met a similar fate, thanks to Leon’s own prodigious sharpshooting skills. The third fell prey to the combined firepower of John’s and Dion’s firepower.

Two seconds later, four more Replica had entered the premises, and in that very instant of time - assumed layered firing stances and responded to Chris’ squad’s firepower in kind. With their submachine guns firing in enviable synchronicity, the gang could only seek shelter behind their makeshift cover, lest they’d lose their heads.

While the four Replica provided layered - and therefore uninterrupted - suppressive fire, three more stepped inside the villa - these ones had bulkier body armor and were armed with shotguns; they immediately advanced forward, showing no emotions or hesitation as they stepped over their own dead. Peeking out from beneath the corpse of the Heavy he used as cover, Chris let out a curse, as they had no response to these enemies. The very instant they would get into melee range, it would be all over for the Hound Wolves.

No response that would see them all leave this place alive, that is. Making a mental prayer for a brave man that was about to trade his life for theirs, Chris simply waited.

As the bulky Assault Troopers reached the middle of the hallway that led from entrance to the living room, a deafening blast rang out, immediately followed by a hail of shrapnel and gout of flames that engulfed the shotgun-wielding soldiers. That was Douglas Holiday - with his legs permanently crippled and knowing that he was not long for this world anyway, the man volunteered to slow down the inevitable advance the Replica would make. With all of his men dead outside the grim man found himself not willing to carry the survivors' guilt. Therefore, the lone Delta Force survivor had played dead in the hallway since the start of this encounter, while clutching several live frag grenades.

“Now!” roared out Chris, determined to make the most out of the noble sacrifice. As his squad left the cover, they were astounded to find the Assault Troopers still standing - if barely - their heavier armor and enhanced biology protecting them even against point-blank explosions. But not from the gunfire of four avenging men who just saw their comrade give his life for their cause. The trio of bulkier troopers fell dead under the onslaught - buying Chris and his team several more precious seconds.

“Fall back!” ordered the captain, as his pistol clicked empty. With the dust and smoke from the explosions severely limiting the visibility, he had hoped that the submachine gun-wielding Replica in the back would hold fire, or at least lose of their accuracy as the squad retreated. They would have no such clemency and Chris felt a number of 9mm rounds impacting his body armor, and one - his left forearm. 

Hissing in pain from the flesh wound, Chris nevertheless made his successful retreat behind the corner that would lead them to the staircase. John was not as fortunate, as a number of rounds struck him right in the leg, causing the large man to tumble down, while letting out a cry of pain. Refusing to leave a man behind, Chris swiftly leapt to John’s side and used his healthy arm to drag his comrade to temporary safety behind the corner and then into the large space that held the staircase.

To the unbridled horror of the four survivors, the staircase was ruined; how and why would be the questions asked were they to survive the day. The practical concern was that climbing across the collapsed structure was out of the question, not with the enemies hot on their heels… 

This sparsely-decorated and enclosed space was to be the site of their last stand, it appeared. Trading resigned glances with each other, Chris Redfield, Leon Kennedy, Dion Wilson and John Perlman prepared to give their opponents one last fight.

Quickly reloading their respective firearms, the gang had no opportunity to use them, as canisters that spewed out thick white smoke were hurled right into the space they occupied. The dense smoke quickly enveloped the whole area, severely limiting visibility to anyone without proper equipment - putting the defenders on an even bigger disadvantage.

Mere moments later, a rumble of heavy combat boots preceded an Assault Trooper appearing from the dense smoke, inches from Chris’ face, shotgun raised and ready to pulp the legendary captain into a bloody mist. As Chris felt his whole life flashing before his eyes, destiny clearly said, ‘not yet’ and John, letting out a roar of hatred, leapt at the Assault Trooper’s back, stabbing his combat knife into the Replica’s underprotected neck, again and again.

But even John’s ferocity and remarkable strength was not enough to kill the gene-enhanced freak outright, and with a crushing elbow strike, John was dislodged from the Replica’s back - only to be immediately cut down by multiple submachine guns. 

Seeing another of his men slain so brutally awakened the beast in Chris.

“No more!”, with a vengeful roar, the captain leapt at the wounded Assault Trooper, smashing his fist into the cruel masked face, only to take the opportunity to brutally yank the shotgun out of the dazed Replica’s hands. 

Not missing a beat, the captain swirled his looted automatic shotgun around, only to unload it into the Assault Trooper - to gory results, as not even his bulky body armor was enough to stop the onslaught of metal pellets. Seeing John avenged in a shower of blood and viscera was not enough for the captain, however, as he - orienting by sound of combat boots striking the wooden floorboards in this blinding smoke - turned around the corner and immediately unleashed the firepower of the deadly shotgun against the approaching Replica.

Even without seeing his foes fall, their deathly gasps and grunts of pain were music to Chris’ ears, but it was just not enough. 9mm rounds of their return fire peppered his frame, some stopped by his kevlar vest, others finding their mark in his flesh - burying themselves deep. With a grunt of pain, the large captain collapsed behind the corner, finding momentarily solace even as he bled from numerous wounds.

Soon, the sound of combat boots beating against the floor resumed, and Chris prepared to inflict as much damage as he could before they would be overrun. Truth to be told, he wasn’t sure if ‘they’ was even an accurate term at this point. The smoke bomb reduced visibility to zero, and the captain had no idea if Leon and Dion were even combat-worthy at this point, but the lack of gunfire and moans of pain were telling enough.

Faced with the now inevitable prospect of his demise, Chris thoughts flashed to all the people who had trusted him to protect them, and how he failed them all, once again. 

 

His own team, the Hound Wolves. Rolando ‘Umber Eyes’ Elba, Dion ‘Canine’ Wilson, Emily ‘Tundra’ Berkhoff, Charlie ‘Night Howl’ Graham and John ‘Lobo’ Perlman - all ready to follow him, the Alpha, into the very jaws of Hell - and he had led them right there.

Ethan Winters, whom he failed as a friend and as a guardian, so many goddamn times already. His beautiful, innocent daughter, Rosemary. The only consolidation was that he could not possibly fail their family ever again after today...

His old friends, sometimes bitter enemies, sometimes most cherished of comrades: Leon Kennedy and Jill Valentine. He’d butted heads on more than one occasion with Leon, but still, Chris had immense respect for the man and was proud to call him his friend. And Jill… his partner, the one who had already given so much because of his failures. And now, she will give her life because of his folly.

And finally, the most unusual of his newest acquaintances - the Dimitrescu family. Lady Alcina Dimitrescu, and her three daughters, to whom he promised protection and safety. So much for his promises… With particular bitterness, Chris couldn’t help but think about Cassandra and their last kiss just minutes ago, so full of passion and emotions. The fierce, flighty brunette vampire somehow, against all odds, managed to steal his heart in such a swift and decisive manner. And now, in return, Chris will steal her life with his incompetence.

 

With no warning but the noises of stomping - interrupting his dark musings, a Replica Trooper appeared out of the smoke - this one sporting an unusual dark-red fatigues beneath his heavy armor. Gritting his teeth, Chris aimed his shotgun in a bid to take at least this accursed freak out of the equation, yet the trooper - in a show of jaw-dropping speed - battered the barrel away from himself, with enough strength to knock the weapon from the captain’s weakened arms, before taking a step back and raising his own assault rifle towards Chris’ forehead. The captain, wounded as he was, knew that any attempt to dodge or to interrupt the enemy was laughable to even consider. This was not the first time Chris found himself outmatched in a fight, yet it seemed like it was finally his last.

One moment later, and the freak would pull the trigger, ending Chris Redfield for good. But even when facing his own executioner, Chris did not cower or close his eyes - instead, the man glared right at the fearsome mask of his foe, expecting his own end to come the very next instant...

...any second now…

Nothing. The dark-red Replica Trooper simply froze, still aiming his assault rifle at Chris.

The realization that soon dawned upon Chris almost made him want to leap with joy.

Ethan… you did it! You actually did it! I’ll owe you more than a beer after this one...

The bittersweet revelation of Ethan’s success - when Chris himself acted towards the hardened father with dismissive derision once upon a time - was tempered by the thick smoke finally dispersing, showing the full picture of carnage.

Directly in front of him, behind the elite trooper, an Assault Replica was frozen in a motion to bash Dion’s face with the stock of his shotgun - the redheaded Hound Wolf was already on the verge of losing consciousness, if his dazed and blood-smeared face that sported a broken nose was any indication.

To Chris’ left, Leon was held in a chokehold by one of the lighter-armored Replicas - the man’s face was red from the suffocating experience, as he slowly tried to free himself from the now hibernating strangler. 

They were beaten and bruised… but they were alive. At least someone was.

With a bewildered expression directed towards a dozen or so Replica that were frozen in the hallway itself, Dion regained his wits and reached for his first aid spray. Meanwhile, Leon carefully and slowly - wisely afraid to disturb the hibernation trooper, escaped the chokehold. Grunting in pain, Chris himself followed the younger Hound Wolf’s example and reached for his own spray, in a bid to address some of his wounds. He would surely need proper medical help later, but simply disinfecting his wounds and stopping the bleeding was instrumental for that ‘later’ to be possible to begin with.

 

A nasty, feminine giggle resonated across the otherwise deathly quiet hallway, shattering the silence and stopping the men dead in their respective recovering activities.

Before Chris could do anything, Anna’s petite frame appeared from behind Dion and without any hesitation and with far more skill than what a stewardess should possess, plunged a kitchen knife deep in the man’s unprotected side - in between the ribs and right where his heart likely was.

With a shocked gasp, Dion tumbled to the floor, and in that same instant, Anna relieved the falling man of his sidearm - again, demonstrating her uncanny speed and combat acumen.

Glaring at the small woman now, Chris could only curse at himself. With the pieces of the puzzle coming together and with the benefit of hindsight, it was so painfully obvious that this very woman was the saboteur. She was responsible for the sinking of the Duke’s yacht and she was responsible for the Replica finding their safehouse. And now she was also responsible for ending yet another brave man who was foolish enough to sign up to serve under Chris. And Chris was the one who had let her in.

Chris Redfield was the one who had let the wolf in. At that moment in time, the captain almost wished Anna - if that was even her real name - to just shoot him dead right there and then. At least in death, he would not be able to fail those who trusted him ever again.

Instead, Anna merely smirked as she brought the gun up, with neither Chris or Leon being armed or in a position to do anything but to glare at the smaller woman, as she took a moment to gloat, addressing the captain.

“You’ve put up quite a fight… but then again, you are legendary Chris Redfield… Still, did you honestly think that same old trick will work again? Please…”

With a derisive scoff, Anna next took aim not at Chris or Leon, but at the Assault Trooper next to her - the one that was still frozen in the moment of when he attempted to bash Dion’s face in.

Letting out a grunt of effort and finding strength where he thought there were none left, Chris got right back up and charged directly at the small woman - for if she took even a single shot at the Replica, they would all awaken and finish the job - finish all of his friends, his comrades, his loved ones.

Rationally, Chris knew how futile this latest gesture of his defiance was - he would never be able to cover the distance between them in the time it would take her delicate finger to squeeze the trigger. He still tried, hoping against hope that he would beat the odds once again.

Notes:

Both Karl and Rosie get to show us their powers here, and I might have taken some liberties with how I depict them - I still hope it was somewhat close to their canon (hard to say for Rosie, of course, since we haven't seen what she could actually do, but that's how I imagine mold manipulation could manifest).

Also, while I was a bit torn on whether Karl to have excellent distant and night vision due to his mutation or an implant, ultimately it 'does' make sense for him to 'upgrade' his own body a bit, so I went with him having a cybernetic eye, in the end.

Oh, and if you are enjoying my depictions of Dimitrescu siblings, I've started a new story which I've called "Obsession" - which will follow Cassandra on a little adventure that takes place 6 months before the events of RE8. It will be a Chris/Cassandra pairing ultimately, but I'll want to use that story to chew the scenery a bit - to explore how the Dimitrescu interacted with their staff and the locals before the fateful events that saw them all perish. That story will not be related to this one, but it will borrow some concepts, such as Dimitrescu Biology or backstory.

Sorry for the long note, hope you've enjoyed this chapter and have a great week!

Chapter 37: E-001

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Living Room - First Floor | 11:22 PM.

 

Anna - or more precisely - the one who pulled on her strings, could barely withstand the psychic shockwave that emanated from the villa’s rooftop. For a second there, the puppeteer that held the poor woman’s body in thrall felt genuinely afraid that the staggering force battering against him in that moment would overpower his tenuous grip on his host and launch his consciousness all the way back to Mauritania - where his own body still resided.

Ordinarily, even his formidable and rigorous training regimen, which pushed his mental fortitude and resilience to its very human limits, would have not been enough to withstand the volatile, otherworldly currents that pushed against his mind.

Yet he was prepared for it. The moment his eyes, or more accurately, Anna’s eyes had fallen upon the Wade Projector Redfield’s misbegotten gang of deluded misfits somehow had in their possession, the puppeteer knew that it would be an issue. Sabotaging the device was out of the question, as not only was it a rare and valuable find, but it would also give him away as the culprit. Instead, he was determined to withstand its influence.

In anticipation of psychic shockwave the device unleashed - the body-snatcher laid down a mental anchor of a sort, at which he held onto during the brief but staggering storm that followed. But even with all his training and all the preparations, he had to give it his all to simply weather this unnatural storm that battered against every hijacked synapse. Even the unconscious effort that was normally reserved for his mental walls was rerouted towards that singular point to which he held for his dear life.

Were he not so focused on this monumental effort, he would have surely noticed a slight tingling at the edge of his mind - a tiny, insignificant presence, worming itself in through a suddenly open path.

Of course, he paid it no heed as he swiftly reassessed control of the host in the wake of the storm. Instead of probing his mind for any potential intruders, the puppeteer forced his unwilling body to make her way from her hiding spot in the living room, all the way through rows upon rows of hibernating Replica. 

Truth be told, he could’ve easily made her pick a random gun from the floor and fire upon the closest trooper, nullifying Redfield’s efforts and reactivating all remaining Replica - in autonomous mode that was barely any less lethal than their original half-slaved configuration - ensuing his enemies’ demise. That would’ve been a practical and most efficient solution.

Practicality be damned… I will savor this moment… the moment legendary Chris Redfield breaks into that sweet despair.

He had to make the captain see the folly of his resistance. He had to stare into his eyes as hopelessness took over Redfield’s visage - to see the strongest of men break was its own reward. Such exquisite despair was truly priceless, and he would not be denied of witnessing it, especially after all of his efforts.

And so, Anna made her way towards the stair hall and had little issue sneaking up on the exhausted and wounded trio of survivors that were recuperating there. 

Too long has the body-snatcher personal bloodlust been left unsatiated. Dion Wilson was the perfect target to execute - not only the youngest Hound Wolf’s back was turned to Anna, but his death - right in front of Chris’ eyes - would’ve no doubt serve as a particularly painful blow to the captain.

Set on his course, the puppet was forced to strike at the one man who had shown her nothing but kindness and consideration.

No! NO! You can’t make me kill him! I won’t! I WON’T!!!

 

To his shock, the body-snatcher suddenly found himself in a small Russian village, with its inhabitants massacred by an experimental B.O.W. The rush of painful - agonizing even - emotions accompanied the grisly sight. Most normal humans would have been overcome or even completely paralyzed by the wave of grief, yet he simply shrugged the vision off - returning him back to the present. His own nightmarish upbringing hardened him against such trifling things.

 

Despite resisting the barrage of Anna’s painful memories of her loved ones being slaughtered, against all odds, the body snatcher faltered for just a millisecond in his absolute control of her body. The momentary lapse saw Anna’s knife-wielding hand adjust the trajectory of its strike - by a mere degree or two - not enough to stop the bladed weapon from finding its mark in Dion’s side, but enough that instead of piercing in between the ribs and into the heart - like the puppeteer wished, the knife was partially deflected by a rib and stopped its course right under the man’s heart.

From the sheer shock of the penetrating trauma, Dion still tumbled down like a bag of rocks, yet the puppeteer suspected that his wound was unlikely to be lethal. 

While somewhat impressed by Anna’s ingenious attempt at regaining control of her body, the mind-intruder found himself frustrated beyond words at his spoiled kill. With a remarkable level of vehemence, the body-snatcher was quick to return the favor to Anna - by assaulting her mind with the memories of his own childhood - filled with nothing but endless torment and wanton cruelty. The sheer horror of that vision was enough to completely subdue the young woman once again.

Regardless of this mishap, the fact of Dion’s less-than-lethal injury was unfortunate, but ultimately irrelevant, as Anna - now once again firmly under the hijacker’s control - swiftly recovered the falling man’s sidearm. The Replica would soon awaken and slaughter them all, anyway.

Armed with that knowledge and feeling secure in his inevitable victory, the body-snatcher simply could not deny himself a chance to gloat, as he beheld Redfield’s visage. Truly - just like his own mentor had once said - there is no despair sweeter than the one born from hope. In his arrogance, Chris was foolish enough to allow himself to become hopeful at the sign of Replica pausing in their assault. And now all that highest of hopes was crashing down, only to turn into the most delicious of despair.

And so much of it! The raw, unadulterated despair was radiating from the large man. Hopelessness seeped from Redfield’s every pore - the grisly sight of his underling cut down right in front of him; the tardy realization that he was the one who had let Anna the infiltrator in; the undeniable knowledge of his outfit of misfits imminent demise.

The combination of it all was utterly soul-crushing to Chris Redfield - his agonized blue eyes showed as much. And the puppeteer savored it all - the captain’s misery was truly a delightful feast to the sadistic body-snatcher, so much even, that a minor but alien presence in the back of Anna’s mind went completely unnoticed, even as it picked both of their brains apart.

Now, with Anna’s hand raising a stolen gun to shoot the nearest Replica, the puppeteer found great amusement in Redfield’s desperate and hopeless lunge. Just a simple squeeze of the trigger, and it would all be over. No more second chances for this misbegotten rabble.

A simple squeeze of the trigger… with a finger that just would not obey… 

It was not just the finger, either. Not a single muscle of his host was responding to issued commands. Suddenly, the whole world froze for the puppeteer, with Chris Redfield’s savage grimace inches from Anna’s own.

Was it Anna herself, trying to reassert dominance once again? No…

For seemingly an instant of time, no motion or sound pierced this flash-frozen world. The silence was quickly shattered by a girlish laughter, however, which was soon succeeded by a mocking sentence, spoken by a teenage girl, seemingly coming from every direction at once.

My my… I know it's rich of me to say stuff like that, but you… you’re a real monster, aren’t you? If your boss knew half the things you did in your downtime, he’d kill you himself!

The puppeteer realized what was happening immediately afterwards. The E-001 - Eveline has infected Anna, somehow. 

When!? How..? … Of course, the goddamn wine!

And with his mental walls down, the infection managed to get inside of his own mind, thanks to the fact that it was currently interconnected with Anna’s. The implication was more than a little gut-churning, even to the hardened and blood-soaked body-snatcher.

Heh, we are actually not that different... you and I - I’d love to chat some more, but I’m afraid my time in this body is out… and so is yours! 

Like a sledgehammer, something had struck hard against the anchor he had built inside Anna’s mind. His already tenuous grip was shattered, and he found his presence being expunged - fast, too fast for him to do anything… 

 

***

Stair Hall - First Floor | 11:25 PM.

 

Chris could not believe that he had actually made it, even after tackling Anna’s to the ground and battering the gun away from her unresisting fingers. Against all odds, he had succeeded in preventing this traitorous woman from reactivating the Replica - which would’ve surely doomed them all.

With bulging eyes, Chris glared at the smaller body underneath him and to his shock - Anna appeared unconscious. Whether from the impact with the ground with his mass behind the tackle, or from something else, it seemed that the infiltrator was out of the fight.

Gritting his teeth and breathing hard, the captain considered putting a bullet in between her eyes, regardless of her incapacitated state. This loathsome woman, who he had trusted, who he had let in - had betrayed them all from the start… because of her, so many had died… brave Delta Force men; his own Hound Wolf Squad comrades… God knows who else…

With shaky fingers, Chris brought Dion’s pistol up, only to roughly shove the barrel against her forehead. Who could fault him for wanting to put an end to this vile snake?

“Don’t.”

Leon’s calming voice and a firm hand on his shoulder made the captain pause, but not yield.

“Why? This fucking bitch deserves to die... “

“She does, but we might learn something useful from her. A deep-cover infiltrator like her must possess a treasure-trove of information…”

With a scoff, Chris conceded the point. No matter how much he hated this fucking bitch, she could still prove useful. They had the tools to poke around in her head and he could always kill her later, when her use had run out.

Knowing that his team needed his help now, the captain set on his next course. Quickly injecting himself with a Blue Umbrella combat injector - in a bid to pump some extra energy and adrenaline through his own badly-wounded body, Chris got back to work.

“You’re right. Tie her up - so that bitch can’t move a single fucking muscle.”

Leon nodded and got to work on making some makeshift rope from spare clothing lying around; the smaller man started tying her up immediately upon Chris getting off Anna.

One quick glance at John’s mutilated corpse and the blood pool underneath it was all it took for Chris to realize that the heavy weapon specialist was never going to get up again… John Perlman was a noble and stalwart soul; a physically powerful and intimidating man who, nevertheless, possessed a legendary composure and clarity of mind in life. And now, that man was just one more sacrifice on Chris Redfield’s personal altar. 

Overcome by emotions, Chris could not stifle a couple of tears from breaking through his hardened visage. Another of his comrades had just given his life for his own, again. Only one thought had prevented the veteran captain from breaking into a sobbing mess at the grisly sight.

The living need our help… The dead… can be mourned later.

“Argh…”

On hearing Dion’s grunt, Chris - utterly ignoring the stock-still Replica all over the place - immediately leapt to the redheaded man’s side, checking his pulse and letting out a relieved gasp, “He is alive! Thank God!” at Dion’s somewhat stable lifesigns. Not wasting a second, the captain proceeded to treat the young man’s injury; though even his blood-covered visage could not mask his jubilation that at least one of his men apparently survived this massacre.

As he provided first aid to Dion, Chris used his headset radio - which miraculously still worked - to address his squad on their frequency.

“This is Alpha, the hostiles are neutralized - avoid harming them at all costs and regroup at the first floor or advance towards the helipad, how copy!?”

The deafening silence of their response was utterly heart-wrenching to Chris. His Hound Wolves had trusted him fully, and he had led them to this slaughter… Not to mention Jill Valentine, Ethan Winters and Cassandra Dimitrescu, the latter of whom wasn’t even equipped with a headset in the first place; but the fact that she still hasn’t returned was telling that even that most formidable of beings had run into more than a little bit of trouble.

“Damn it…”

After a few seconds of deafening silence, however, a tinge of static was followed by some coughing, reigniting the hope in Chris Redfield.

“Umber Eyes here, cap’n… I am still at the rear entrance and I might need some help with that last order…”

Rolando was alive, if a bit delirious, if his slurred voice was any indication. Having stabilized Dion’s condition, Chris needed no further incentive to rush towards the rear entrance - making sure not to bump into any Replicas on his way.

Quickly reaching his destination, Chris needed only a glance to paint a mental picture of what had occurred in this smaller room. 

The entrance was likely barricaded by several pieces of heavy furniture - which were then smashed aside. One deceased Replica Trooper lay outside - shot dead by precision headshots from Rolando’s sidearm, no doubt. One more was mutilated by an explosive force - likely from stepping on a tripwire mine Rolando had hastily set up. Finally, two more Replicas were already inside, but like the rest of their compatriots - frozen in silent hibernation, with their still frames training guns on a small, partially-concealed nook at the edge of the room. Some muffled, but clearly pained moaning was coming from that cranny.

Not thinking twice, Chris proceeded to check on the noise, the source of which turned out to be Rolando himself. The Hound Wolf marksman and Chris’ second-in-command huddled in a corner, clutching a frag grenade - as if expecting to be killed at any moment, despite Chris’ reassurance that the hostiles were neutralized. Rolando was in a sorry state, with his glasses missing; his whole frame covered by grime and blood; his right leg bleeding freely - despite the man holding his left hard over it - from a gun-shot inflicted wound.

Upon seeing Chris with his own eyes, the tense man’s relief was palpable; his frag grenade cluttered to the ground, forgotten, as he mumbled out a sentence that made Chris’ heart tinge with pain.

“I’ve held them off for as long as I could, cap’n…”

Rolando was clearly in shock - possibly from proximity to the mine’s explosion or blood loss. 

Another man was ready to give his life for our cause… Even though Rolando hated Dimitrescu, he would’ve died for them, because I ordered it… 

With that agonized thought, Chris promptly got to the wounded man’s side, in an understandable hurry to address the dangerous leg injury; even as he offered a reassurance - in a calm, composed voice, “It’s alright, buddy, you did good.”

Checking Rolando’s injured thigh, Chris let out a muffled curse as he saw a ruptured femoral artery - this was a serious, life-threatening injury. It would require surgery to properly repair the artery, but for now, all they could do was to stop the hemorrhage. Hoping that the Blue Umbrella combat injector’s synthetic coagulant was up to the task, the captain proceeded to jab his last injector right above the wound.

“Keep applying pressure here, buddy.”

Rolando nodded, and placed both hands above the artery, pushing it close to the bone and hopefully restricting the blood flow enough that the injection would have the time to do its work.

“You’re gonna be fine, brother… we are getting out of here.”

Letting out a heartfelt reassurance, Chris proceeded to lift the shell-shocked man - in a way that saw his injury undisturbed and started to make his way back towards the wrecked living room.

Inside the living room where they made their first stand against the enemy, there were still a couple of frozen Replica, but much more surprisingly - a number of people Chris definitely did not expect to see here.

The familiar forms Millie and Tom - the latter carrying the former, who appeared to be unconscious - was a welcome sight. The Duke had nothing but praise and warm words whenever he would mention the duo, so Chris was inclined to treat them with respect.

The less familiar, yet unmistakable form of one Karl Heisenberg raised more than a single question mark and rang more than one alert bell in Redfield’s head, however. The only reason the captain did not immediately reach for his sidearm was the simple fact that, much like Tom, Heisenberg carried someone in his scruffy arms. That someone was a person Chris found his mind unwittingly drift towards lately… to a degree some would find… unhealthy.

To say that Chris was happy to see Cassandra’s chest rising and falling methodically would be an understatement. In the chaos and mayhem that followed in the wake of Replica invasion, he had feared the worst, even if he had no time to process that thought completely. She was clearly badly wounded, true - both of her arms were covered by deep and horrific burns...yet… she was alive .

Ever keen, Heisenberg was quick to note both the injury-covered captain and the way his gaze was directed. Letting out a derisive scoff, the mutated tinkerer offered an ultimatum in lieu of a greeting.

“Don’t think I forgot about that stunt you pulled with my factory, asshole. You owed me one even before today, and now that I see the treatment my niece has suffered while under your custody, it's gonna be more than one... “ Chris could see small metal objects starting to slightly vibrate around the living room, as the lord hissed out a clear threat, “...you better pray the other girls are in better condition...or you might not leave here at all.”

Before Chris could respond, Tom beat him to a punch, “Please, Mr. Heisenberg. We are all allies here. It's hardly Mr. Redfield’s fault these freaks attacked them.”

Upon hearing the younger man leaping to his defense, Chris’ first instinct was to refute that erroneous claim and take all the blame for this debacle - for it was his fault. As a commanding officer on site, it was his responsibility to keep everyone safe - which he neglected, by not screening Anna according to established protocols. Perhaps, all the bloodshed… all the deaths could’ve been avoided if only he had discovered her true nature sooner. 

Giving Heisenberg an even glare, Chris had to reconsider. In his long but rapidly-diminishing list of people he would’ve referred to as “allies”, Heisenberg would not have made even the last place, but now, with Tom vouching for him, Chris had to once again admit that this was simply not the kind of fight where he could pick and choose his allies. They were bound to have a heart-to-heart later, but for now, the priority lies in escaping this still-dangerous situation, and making new enemies by revealing inconvenient truths would’ve been most detrimental to that goal. He owed the living to do everything in his power to get them to safety, and if that meant working with this mutant freak, while concealing the inescapable fact of his own complicity - so be it.

So Chris Redfield kept silent about Anna, even though his better half screamed at him to take responsibility for his failure right there and then. Instead, the battle-weary captain offered a tenuous greeting, “Heisenberg… We’ll have time to return each other favors later… for now, we need to get the hell out of here. There is no telling when these freaks will awaken, and trust me - you won’t want to be here when they do. Our aircraft is on the rooftop; once we collect our wounded...and our dead, we will depart immediately.”

Heisenberg let out another scoff, and Chris could tell that the man was itching to start a verbal fight with him, and perhaps a physical one, as well, but the scruffy tinkerer held his tongue. The metal objects stopped that unnerving vibrations and soon after, Heisenberg used his magnetic powers to return an overturned sofa back to its proper alignment.

Chris quickly took the hint and seated Rolando - who still appeared barely conscious or responsive - onto the large couch, while Heisenberg gently placed Cassandra on its other side. Not missing a beat, Chris helped to get another coach back to its original place, so Millie would have a place to lie down, as well. In the same moment, Chris tapped on his headset, “Leon, can you check on Jill in the basement? Just be careful - she is quite fond of setting up tripwires…”

Leon was quick to respond, “Sure, just finished with setting up Dion and our little friend here; on my way.”

“Thanks…”

With Leon on his way to check on Jill and the wounded placed in more comfortable positions, the captain had a moment to gaze around the room in a search of an item that he knew should’ve been somewhere around. After a couple of seconds, his tired but still keen eyes found it - a small box with a red cross. With a quick stride, Chris got to their medical supplies, carefully maneuvering around a frozen Replica that kept silent watch right next to it, before returning back to the couches with his prize.

Rummaging through the box, Chris was quick to procure several items of value in their current situation - a gel made from Viridis Plantae , a couple of injectors of intramuscular painkillers as well as clotting agents; while Tom was quick to help himself to a more generic Blue Umbrella injector - good for stabilizing many combat-derived conditions, but hardly a cure-it-all panacea it was advertised as.

Glancing at Tom, who was swift to inject the Blue Umbrella formula into Millie’s still frame, Chris himself hurried to Cassandra's side. The horrible burns on her arms likely induced excruciating agony, as even in unconsciousness, her face was twisted into an agonized grimace, with sweat falling freely from her brows.

Not thinking twice, the captain hastily jabbed a painkiller into both of her arm muscles - right above the seared areas. With tender care, Chris then proceeded to generously apply the gel to the affected areas of her arms.

Meanwhile, Heisenberg merely stood by and watched, with a curious glint in his organic eye, as he beheld the peculiar sight. He never expected this brute of a soldier who had ruined his beloved factory to provide such gentle treatment to Cassandra Dimitrescu, of all people. Still, he had to see to others, as well. “Where are the others? Bela, Daniela and the giant bitch?” Millie did mention that Alcina was not quite as imposing these days, but it was hard to let go of old habits, so Heisenberg did not correct himself, even as he registered that thought.

“Likely upstairs… This was a fucking mess…” Offered Chris, even as he continued treating the vampiric woman with furred brows and focused gaze - as if she was someone important to him, which was a laughable notion to Karl… but then again… what wasn’t, at this point? Fucking cloned super-soldiers, frozen as if in stasis or deep hibernation. What the fuck did I get myself into…

Letting out a tired sigh - for he was tired, bringing that armored bird down was no easy feat - Karl marched towards the stairway hall, carefully maneuvering around the masked freaks. There were a lot of them, and they were all well-armed and quite clearly - deadly, so Heisenberg was most definitely not looking forward to fighting this kind of overwhelming force, especially since most of his so-called allies could hardly stand, much less fight.

Hope Millie’s gonna be alright…

Heisenberg found himself surprised at that errant thought running through his mind. He was not one to get attached easily or swiftly, yet the girl had quickly grown on him. 

Her metal-gray eyes reminded him so much of that one woman that had made his existence as Miranda’s labrat as bearable… if only for a short while. And Millie had more than just Tamara’s eyes… She had that same lively spark, that quick wit and that same sharp tongue… that same reckless determination.

Heisenberg never expected Millie to run herself ragged - but she did, for him, because he had asked her to stand at his side. She was clearly no stranger to her electromagnetic power and that meant that she had to know her limits. But she went over them, in her desperate attempt to protect him from that missile. And now, Heisenberg found himself determined to get both her and the Dimitrescu family out of this goddamn mess. He owed them all at least that much.

Briskly pacing through the stairway hall, the scruffy man paused to glance at the young redheaded soldier, who somehow reminded him of Daniela, lying on a small cot. In another corner, a young woman with a freckled face was securely tied by both rope and duct tape. That immediately aroused the engineer’s curiosity, yet he had no time to waste.

Giving one annoyed glance at the broken stairway, Heisenberg leveraged his own inhuman strength to perform an impressive vertical leap, crossing the collapsed section with no issues - only to behold a trio of corridors.

In this unfamiliar villa, Karl had to navigate by smell alone, which was hardly a challenge in present conditions. Without much thought, the man briskly walked across the left corridor - the horrid stench of death and decay coming from that direction was truly overwhelming to his sharper-than-normal senses. 

Before long, he got to what looked like a musical room, if all the sheet music lying around was any indication. This room had a number of mutilated corpses in it - some beheaded, some crushed, but what immediately drew his attention was a trio of women cuddling in the middle of it all. Like an oasis of life in a desert of death…

Daniela, he had no trouble recognizing - for she looked just the same when he had last seen her - maybe a little less pale. The small girl hugging Daniela’s torso looked no older than three, and it took Karl a second to connect the dots. Rosemary Winters… even she is here… Jesus fucking Christ.

And the last figure - who had her back turned to him - Karl had the most difficulty putting a name to. Small, gaunt, with messy hair and ruined and bloody clothing, his mind simply refused to connect her with the enormous, always regal and haughty countess that was responsible for no small amount of grief that has befallen him.

But then, he noted that her right hand’s nails were elongated into wickedly-sharp, eerily-familiar blades; he heard a soft Romanian lullaby she muttered under her breath, in that unmistakable voice.

Somehow, the desire to insult or belittle her did not rear its head today, unlike all the other occasions when they had shared a room. Instead, a mere whisper, laced with disbelief escaped his lips.

 

“Alcina..?”

 

Upon hearing his voice, the woman slowly rotated her head to stare back at him. Seeing her face - even with skin that looked a size too large for it and noticeably less of that attractive level of body fat she had used to possess - was enough to dispel his doubts.

That was his so-called elder sister, kneeling on the floor while cuddling the sleeping forms of Daniela and Rose. 

This whole situation was beyond merely baffling to the genius engineer, and he simply stared back at her. Likewise, Alcina experienced a similar befuddling thought process, as her mouth rapidly opened and closed repeatedly.

Their long working relationship was a complex one, and this particular situation reflected it perfectly. In her amber eyes, he could see conflicting emotions that vied for dominance. Even though he was far from being a mind-reader, he could vividly picture the thoughts that raced through her mind at this moment.

 

Is he an enemy, here to gloat or even finish me off in his petty attempt at revenge? Is he a friend, here to offer a helping hand in these trying times?

 

As far as Heisenberg himself was concerned, the former was not entirely off the table...

“What, high and mighty Dimitrescu got nothing to say? That's new.”

But today, he’s going with the latter.

“Come on. Get up, we are getting outta here…”

Heisenberg wasn’t sure if it was possible to repair the bridge between them that was burned long ago, but his single offered hand had to be a good start, if it was.

With some hesitation, Alcina detached herself from the kids she cuddled, only to slowly accept his offered hand, while murmuring, “Heisenberg… you fool…” with far less malice than she used to.

 

***

 

Bedroom #4 - Third Floor  | 11:22 PM.

 

Bela shot up from her comfy bed with a start, her eyes wild as a wave of raw horror preceded by an otherworldly screech passing throughout her frame, leaving every single bone in her body chilled.

Breathing heavily in a bid to recover her bearing after this nightmarish experience, which duplicated the feeling she had in that Mauritanian ghost town, it took Bela several seconds to regain her situational awareness and longer still to recover her wit.

Still, despite the horrific awakening, the blonde vampire found herself feeling well… great even. Experimentally flexing her fingers, the woman actually felt stronger than ever, for some reason. The last time she had felt so effervescently was when…

“Oh…”

When she had dined upon Ethan Winters’ delectable blood. 

 

The memories came flooding back. They were attacked. She fought some giant armored monster. It sprayed her with some kind of freezing agent… liquid nitrogen, maybe? Regardless, It had hurt her badly… so badly, in fact, that she could’ve died… would’ve died…

...if not for Ethan’s blood and flesh, which he had provided with no hesitation - on his own accord - for her .

Tears started to well up in her eyes, both from Ethan’s display of incredible altruism, as well as her own callous ferocity, with which she had torn into his poor wrist. Like a cruel beast or… a monster. But, Ethan didn’t even seem to mind. He even jested! Even as her sharp teeth ravaged his flesh, he had nothing but a loving smile and a kind word for her. 

Ethan!

The sudden realization that he might still be in danger struck her hard. A mere second later her body - already dispersed into a swarm of flies - were speeding back into that ill-fated hallway.

In addition to Charlie’s impaled corpse, two more bodies were now decorating the hallway, akin to some kind of twisted, macabre gallery - one of them was just a seared skeleton with nothing but blackened bones left. Bela couldn’t help but wonder what monstrous weapon was capable of inflicting that kind of damage. Still, her keen flies wasted no time as they followed the trail of that delicious-smelling blood that led towards the helipad.

Outside, the swarm came together and Bela took a moment to behold the devastation. Freshly-slain corpses littered the villa grounds; a wrecked combat helicopter gunship lay some distance away, while trailing black smoke into the night sky; some dark vans were burning bright in the darkness further still.

Nothing but death and misery anywhere she looked.

It's like we never left Romania… is this legacy of bloodshed and murder all there is? Will we never find true, lasting peace? I can’t give up hope…

Shrugging off her grim thoughts, Bela proceeded to follow the scent that led her to the Dragonfly aircraft. Hurrying inside, she was quick to spot the body of the man she came to love. Lying next to a weird-looking device of some kind, was Ethan Winters, calm in unconsciousness, once again.

“This is really becoming a bad habit, isn’t it?” muttered Bela, even as she knelt and checked the man’s pulse. It was strong - to her immediate relief.

Suddenly, Ethan’s headset - which Bela didn’t even remember the man having before - sprung to life, as Chris’ familiar voice burst through the grating static.

“This is Alpha, the hostiles are neutralized - avoid harming them at all costs and regroup at the first floor or advance towards the helipad, how copy!?”

Bela attempted to respond - only to discover that the headset’s mic was broken. Giving an annoyed scoff, the woman glanced back towards the villa roof access - determined to go and search for her sisters and mother now that she saw that Ethan was safe - but not before tenderly getting a hold of Ethan’s left wrist - the one Ethan allowed Bela to feast upon…

Giving the freshly-healed but scarred wrist a loving kiss, the woman stood up, leaving the man to rest and recover. Turning around, however, Bela almost had a heart attack as a teenage girl she never saw before stood in the door-frame that led from the storage compartment to the rest of the aircraft.

“Futu-i!”

The girl in a black dress just giggled at Bela’s shocked swearing in Romanian, before giving a polite curtsy and speaking, “Hello, Mommy!”

Bela could only stare at her, slack-jawed, as that particular and peculiar form of address was never used on her before, in all of her long life. Inspecting the girl’s face, Bela had to reconsider that previous thought about never seeing her before - some of Rose’s drawings that she had seen depicted a person that looked remarkably like this one… if drawn with a childish, inexperienced hand. The realization was quick to dawn upon the eldest Dimitrescu, as she murmured out a name.

“Eveline..?”

“Bingo!” The girl appeared genuinely happy that she was recognized.

Giving one more disbelieving glance at the ghostly girl, Bela, nevertheless, attempted to move past her, while murmuring her current priority, “As lovely as it is to finally meet you, my sisters and mother may need me… We’ll chat later, alright, little one?”

“Grandma and aunt Dani are fine! Best Aunt Cassi also has to be fine! No way can anyone beat her!”

With no little amount of astonishment, Bela gazed at the smaller girl, who just giggled some more - clearly proud of that little information network she had established.

“Be that as it may, dear Eveline, I’d like to check on them with my own two eyes.”

At that, Eveline just huffed and folded her arm, before shrugging her shoulders, as if saying - whatever.

Swiftly getting out of the aircraft, by chance, Bela glanced downwards, only to let out a gasp of shock at what she saw.

Down there, approaching the villa’s entrance, was none other than her very uncle - Karl Heisenberg himself! And in his deceptively strong arms, he carried unconscious - but very much alive, if her slight movements were any indication - Cassandra.

“See! Told ya! She is alive and I’ll bet a hundred bucks that she will be kicking ass again in no time! Cassie is such a badass! I wish I had a sister like her…”

Eveline was at her side again, grinning wide, even though the smile died down a little after her last sentence.

A bit more reassured by the relative well-being of her sister and appearance of Lord Heisenberg, Bela decided to investigate this phantasm a bit further, “How can I see you now?” It was a silly question, as Bela’s bright mind immediately figured out the answer on its own. “Oh… It was Ethan’s flesh, wasn’t it?”

The girl just hummed, before offering, “You took a bit more than just blood from Daddy this time, haven’t you Mommy? You’re lucky he is such a nice man - I wouldn’t be happy if someone just chewed on my wrist like that! Sheesh!” Eveline thought a bit more, before chirpily adding, “Good thing I don’t have one, then! Haha!”

Having to suppress a small blush at the girl’s ‘Mommy and Daddy’ references and a little bit exasperated by her overall cheerfulness - especially in such a morbid environment, Bela couldn’t help but let out an admonishment, “Are you always this joyous? People have died here, you know…”

At that, the girl toned it down a little, before providing reason for her high spirits.

“I know… but everyone I really liked is still alive… and… “ Eveline thought a bit more about that, even as she gazed at her own feet, before offering, “I am really glad that I was of help today…”

Bela had no idea what exactly Eveline had done today, but she imagined that with her capabilities, she could’ve done more than a bit. Regardless, her second reasoning appeared immensely cute and praise-worthy to the eldest Dimitrescu sibling, even if the first one was a bit on the callous side. They could work on that, later.

“I’ve met an evil man before coming to you… He is gone now, but he will be back - I know it. He wants to hurt you badly… you and Daddy. He won’t stop. He doesn’t know how to stop.”

Eveline’s unexpected revelation sent chills of fright down Bela’s spine. Somehow, she knew that this mysterious person meant business from that simple but heartfelt delivery the ghostly girl did. Still, she was not going to be cowed that easily.

Trying to place a soothing palm on the smaller girl's shoulder, Bela found her limb going right through Eveline’s intangible frame. Quickly suppressing discomfort from the unnerving experience, Bela decided to go for words, instead, “Whoever he is, I’ll stop him myself. Nobody’s gonna hurt Ethan again.”

Eveline just sadly shook her head, before gazing at the taller woman and whispering, “You don’t get it, Mommy. I glimpsed just a small fragment of his past, but... He’s a real monster… and that’s coming from me… ” 

Bela was not sure how to respond - she was quite aware that Eveline’s tally rivaled her own. Still, after all the horrors they have been through - the ones done to them and the ones perpetuated by them… what’s one more monster? With that thought, Bela had nothing but determination shining in her eyes, as she spoke with firmness that would brook no argument.

“I see. It is fitting then, that a monster such as that man will face monsters such as ourselves, don’t you think, little one?”

Eveline froze, as she gazed into Bela’s eyes. Half a century of horror and violence; a thousand condemned souls stared back at her.

Finally, Eveline smiled, but said nothing for a couple of seconds. At the child’s silence, Bela was about to head downstairs to provide whatever aid was required, but before she could make the first step, Eveline’s words made her reconsider.

“Daddy is waking up.”

The suddenness of that exclamation made Bela immediately glance back towards the Dragonfly. Against her better judgement, the blonde woman proceeded to march right back inside its storage hull and to gaze down upon its sole occupant.

Just like Eveline had said, Ethan was slowly stirring awake, though it appeared that the dreamscape fought particularly ferociously for his attention tonight. Bela was quick to note that the man’s lips were moving in a pattern that implied that he was mumbling something, yet no words had reached her sharp ears.

Genuinely curious, the blonde vampire lay parallel to the man, not bothered by the cold and hard metal floor of the aircraft. With their noses almost touching, she focused hard on the movements of his lips, but try as she might - she could hear nothing.

Suddenly, despite Bela doing her best to not disturb Ethan in his strange state, the man - as if feeling her presence - yanked his eyes wide open to stare right into her own amber orbs.

Whatever was troubling the man in his peculiar dream was quickly dispelled, replaced by calm tranquility as he simply gazed at her.

“Hey…”

Even though Bela was somewhat unnerved by this silent monologue Ethan seemed to be having in his dream-like state, his calming whisper was enough to fully set her mind at ease.

“Hey…”

A light shudder passed throughout her whole frame as Ethan - ever so gently - brought his arm up, only to tenderly caress her cheek with his thumb.

They both had so many things to say to each other, but perhaps precisely because of that, neither of them uttered a word - merely continuing to gaze into each other’s eyes, instead.

Suddenly, a third - rough but amused - voice broke the tranquility of their love-induced staring contest.

“Well, at this point I am not even surprised by anything anymore.”

Which was soon followed by a forth, bemused one.

Really , daughter?”

Glancing up from their not-so-cosy spot on the floor, the two lovers found themselves staring at Karl Heisenberg and Alcina Dimitrescu. Both Bela and Ethan were quick to develop a slight but noticeable blush from the sheer embarrassment. With hasty speed that made Karl let out a chuckle and Alcina an annoyed scoff, the moldy lovers hurried to get back to their two feet, with Ethan only then realizing exactly who the scruffy man was.

“Heisenberg!?”

The man in question smirked at astonishment in Ethan’s tone and expression, before tipping his hat in a clearly mocking gesture, and offering a greeting of his own, “One and only! At your service - well, since about ten minutes ago - when I had your ass bailed from the frying pan that chopper was about to cook it in. You’re welcome, by the way.”

For a couple of seconds, Ethan just gaped at the scruffy man, before giving him a wide smile and offering a handshake, as well as a heartfelt gratitude, “I appreciate that.”

That was the second time Heisenberg saved his life, and Ethan was understandably grateful. While he had no idea what the hell the mutated engineer was doing here of all places, his presence was most welcome.

Karl was quick to accept the handshake - making Ethan wince from the strength of his grip. After exchanging the manly greeting, the engineer was quick to pronounce his need for a smoke and exited the aircraft to presumably do just that.

Meanwhile, as Bela was carefully inspecting her mother’s hand with protruding nail-blades, Ethan stepped out into the aircraft’s passenger hull. The sight of two passengers enjoying what appeared to be a peaceful slumber - while cuddling up to each other - was heartwarming to the battle-weary father. Seeing his precious Rosie and adorable Daniela taking a nap almost made the man forget that they all had just emerged from a vicious life-or-death struggle. Almost. Not all of us did...

Chris’ grim-sounding voice, coming from the cockpit, returned Ethan back to the bloodsoaked battlefield.

“Anyone copy?”

Briefly checking his own headset - which he ‘borrowed’ from Charlie and finding it broken, Ethan stepped inside the small cockpit and responded to the captain.

“Ethan here, Chris.”

The relief was unmistakable in Chris' voice, “Ethan! You’re alright! Anyone else there with you?”

“Rose, Bela, Daniela, Lady D and Heisenberg - of all people. We are all fine.”

At Ethan’s response, Chris gave out another relieved sigh, before his voice became firm again. “Thank God so many have made it… but we need to leave - the sooner the better. Get Heisenberg and yourself down here - we are not leaving any of our own behind today - neither wounded, nor the dead.”

“You have a destination in mind?” Ethan asked the question even before his rational mind registered it as less relevant than simply getting the fuck out of this villa.

Chris’ response was just as swift, “Anywhere is better than here, but, yeah - I do - New York.”

Ethan had a thousand questions burning on his mind, yet he realized that time was against them, “Alright, I am on my way down.”

Even though Ethan had no idea what awaited them in the Big Apple, somehow it felt like the final stretch. Whether the ultimate success or failure - they would find it there - the father was sure of it.

 

***

 

The Connection’s regional HQ, Mauritania | 11:26 PM. (GMT+1)

 

The pain of his consciousness being forcefully ripped out of Anna’s mind was excruciating. Like a slingshot, it was launched far away from his host - all the way back to the distant tether of his own body, still waiting in Mauritania, 3000 kilometers away. Traveling through this kaleidoscopic realm of chaotic energy was always unpleasant, but doubly so when one undertook the journey unprepared.

Upon opening his eyes, Paxton Fettel found himself back in his own body. The first thought was one of relief - as not only had he apparently returned with his mind unscathed by the violent currents of the poorly-understood psionic sub-realm, but the feeling of being back inside your own flesh was indescribably elating. Anna’s feeble body was sickening beyond words, and Fettel cursed every moment he was forced to spend inside of it, yet...

 

The second thought was one of disbelief, which swiftly morphed into unspeakable rage, as the sheer impossibility of the event that had transpired had registered.

“I have...failed..?”

Impossible… This cannot be happening… this CAN'T BE HAPPENING.

With a roar of terrifying fury, the man stood up from his kneeling position - only to find himself in some kind of large office - likely, the director’s office inside the The Connections’ Mauritanian regional HQ.

Such details were irrelevant to the frothing man, however, as mindless fury completely overtook every thought process. With inhuman rage, Paxton grabbed a plasma screen from a nearby mahogany table - only to smash it into the wall. The keyboard was his next victim, as he savagely broke it in two against that very table. Panting heavily from insatiable anger, Paxton swept everything else off the table with a roar of rage, before picking up the table itself next - showing off his own inhuman strength with such a feat - before hurling it against the large glass window. With an ear-splitting noise, the heavy piece of furniture easily smashed through the glass barrier and proceeded to tumble outside.

But the enraged man was still not done, as he proceeded to systematically destroy everything inside that large, lavishly decorated office. No book was left untorn, no shelf unsmashed, no framed picture unbroken, no vase or potted flower intact. 

Two Replica Troopers, clad in the reddish-dark fatigues and advanced body armor above it - denoting their elite status - stared at the mindless destruction with cold-blooded detachment. Neither a glance was traded, nor a nervous tick performed, as they simply gazed at their direct superior and his violent rampage. Theirs was not to question, and they knew their place well.

It took him several minutes, but eventually, the heavily-panting man found himself standing in an utterly wrecked space. Finally, having nothing substantial left to obliterate, Paxton paused, as he glared at his personal bodyguards, while considering his predicament. This was a major setback he had just suffered, but he could still fix it...

Taking some moment to regain his breath, the man whispered out a name.

“Mia Winters?”

The right Elite Trooper instantly provided a satisfactory response - in a typical for his kind emotionless voice, again proving how superior Replica were to worthless, loathsome humans.

“New York. She has agreed to oversee the final deployment of E-002 assets.”

At least something was going his way. Paxton was sure that at this point, if he had to deal with that uppity bitch’s defiance one more time, he would’ve popped her head open like a watermelon.

“Sebastian Hale?”

“Still here and awaiting further instructions.”

Fettel was tempted to order that worthless coward’s immediate execution. He was the one who had failed to apprehend these filthy bug-whores and the Dulvey survivor in the first place. Sebastian was to blame for their continued survival and advances. Sebastian was to blame for these miserable misfits ganging together and becoming a real problem.

“ET-36, Bring him here.”

Not wasting a single breath on an acknowledgement or pointless formalities, the left soldier marched off without missing a beat. Black Ops Replica units such as this one valued efficiency above everything else and rarely bothered with such things, unless their commanding officer directly demanded it.

Before too long, the executive in question was pushed through the office’s broken doors. Clearly, until a couple of minutes ago, Sebastian was enjoying a peaceful nap, as the man was dressed in nothing but white boxers. The tall executive was protesting the Replica’s uncouth treatment of him most vehemently, yet his mouth was quickly forced shut as he beheld the destruction of the office, with chilly night wind from the broken blowing past his messy hair.

“Uhm…” tried Sebastian, only for Paxton to interrupt him.

“Shut the fuck up.” Fettel leveled an even gaze at the taller male, only to consider his worth. By all accounts, Sebastian Hale was an abject failure - having allowed these filthy mutants to run circles around him for the last weeks. Ending his miserable existence would’ve been a trifle - a simple nod to the Replica Elite behind him, and Sebastian's head would be pulped into a bloody mess within seconds. Or else, Paxton could end this pathetic man himself - whether with his personal sidearm, a nearby sharp object or his own unnatural power - it made little difference, yet…

Paxton Fettel was many things - a mass-murderer, a cannibal, a rapist and a misanthrope of the highest caliber. But one thing he was not, was a hypocrite. Despite his burning desire to pile all the blame on this man’s shoulders, he could hardly rightfully condemn him for his many failures… not after having failed himself. Not to mention that Sebastian could still prove useful...

Fettel turned away from the fright-frozen man, only to dispassionately gaze outside, through the broken window. E-001’s parting words to him held dire implications. Apparently, the accursed bioweapon somehow managed to bypass his ever-present mental walls and poke in his memories. The information it could now possess was never meant to leave his head.

He could not go back to his master like this. Not with these filthy misfits still on the loose, and more dangerous than ever. And without access to his resources, he suddenly found himself at a disadvantage...

Without turning around, Fettel darkly muttered out an order.

“There have been some… complications. Find me the most unscrupulous mercenary company that operates in North America.” At the silence that followed, Fettel turned around to glare at The Connection’s executive, transmitting all of his hatred through gaze alone. Sebastian, stock-still from fright, could only mumble a meek, “Alright…”

At the taller man’s submissive behavior, Fettel couldn’t help but let a mean smirk spread across his face. He found himself determined to deal with all these wretched mutants himself. He would make up for his failure by personally attending to the problem. Redfield’s merry gang's next destination - and therefore his own - was painfully obvious.

“And charter a plane to New York immediately...” Before Sebastian could open his mouth, in whether a question or confirmation, Paxton waved him away. As bereft of his pride as he was of his clothing, Sebastian simply nodded and trudged away, happy to leave the dangerous psychopath’s presence.

With the executive gone, Paxton addressed one of underlings next, eager to satiate his wicked cravings, which were only amplified by his long absence from his own body.

“ET-37, bring me a woman for the trip ahead.”

The Replica Trooper in question, familiar with the unnatural practices and inhuman appetites of his superior, did not question and immediately departed in search of an appropriate specimen. Even despite his repressed emotional state, the cloned and gene-enhanced soldier found a speck of pity crossing his mind for whatever unfortunate woman that would cross his path tonight. Still, the trooper would carry out his orders, as he always did.

Notes:

And this is the conclusion of the villa arc! Now we are on the final stretch of this journey, I want to thank everyone who stuck around - you're the best! :)

As always, I wish you all the best and hope you guys stay safe and healthy! If there are any questions/suggestions/critic/random ideas, feel free to leave a comment! Have a great week!

Chapter 38: Flight or Fight

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

A solemn silence fell across the Dragonfly’s passenger compartment as the aircraft lurched upwards and away from the bloodied villa and its hibernating occupants.

Even though the survivors managed to escape the so-called Safehouse with their lives, nobody was in the mood for joyous celebrations, as the price they had paid for their daring escape was high. Too high.

All ten brave men of Leon’s military escort were dead - their first line of defense - cut down in minutes, yet it was their sacrifice that had bought enough time for the rest to escape.

The Hound Wolf Squad - the elite team of B.O.W. hunters - will never be the same, not without being cut in half by the emotionless masked troopers. Charlie ‘Night Howl’ Graham, Emily ‘Tundra’ Berkhoff and John ‘Lobo’ Perlman had all perished in the line of duty, fighting against this newest generation of bioweapons. The fallen operatives were loyal to the end to their captain and the cause itself, and it would be a heavy burden for the survivors of their squad to carry on the legacy. Harder yet for Chris himself, who will be the one to deliver the news of their tragic passing to their families - were he to survive the coming days himself, that is.

Even the Connection’s defector - the man for whom the moldy gang gone for no short amount of trouble, was dead - the first victim of the bloodiest night of their journey. James Sallow, also known as Nightcrawler, was no saint - the man would’ve claimed as much himself. Yet even this selfish and greedy man took a step forward to expose the labyrinthine conspiracy unfolding before him, in the end - even if it took a little push for him to do so. And a beam of destructive energy to the chest was his reward for his final act of courage.

These were the fallen, but even the survivors would carry the scars of this day for as long as they still drew breath - some mental and some physical.

Alcina, Bela, Cassandra, Daniela, Ethan and Karl all took quite a beating during the chaotic night, yet their moldy bodies would regenerate most injuries sustained within days, leaving them primed and ready for the next fight. The mental trauma was a different kind of beast and it would not be denied its chance to gnaw on their minds in the years to come, yet they would surely be able to find solace in the arms of their loved ones. Bela and Ethan in particular, suffered greatly from the knowledge that they could’ve potentially stopped the infiltrator, if only they investigated her further.

Dion, Tom, Leon and Rose likely got out with the least amount of physical injuries, even if the ghosts of the dead would haunt them whenever they would close their eyes. Rose - being such a young girl, would be traumatized by the events of the violent night - that no child should ever be allowed to witness, much less take part in.

Jill, Rolando and Millie got hit the hardest by the powerful weaponry of their foes. The stalwart woman and life-long partner to Chris had lost her entire left arm by the elbow. Without the benefit of enhanced regeneration, that loss would stick to her for the rest of her life - even if she had several options available to her… Likewise, Rolando’s leg - while still there - would never be able to support his own weight again, not without a drastic augmentation. As for Millie, the young woman has suffered from a brief but damaging brain hemorrhage - induced by a severe overuse of her own unnatural power. While her condition had stabilized, it was a big question mark if she would be able to regain consciousness at all… and whether she would remain the same person, even if she did.

As for the man piloting the Dragonfly now, Chris Redfield could only go on. Even as his body suffered a trio of penetrating gunshot injuries, he could only go on and trust that the lack of arterial/organ damage and a BU-injection would see him through the day. The true injury was a mental one - the crushing knowledge that he had failed to bring the people - who put their trust in him - back home, again. The strangling revelation about Anna being the infiltrator - and the fact that he was the one who had let her in. Everything was his fault. All the brave people dying; Jill’s horrific, crippling injury; Cassandra’s near-death experience; Rosie being likely traumatized for life - it was all his fault.

But Chris still kept going, if only for the fact that he was the only one who knew how to pilot the Dragonfly now that Charlie has passed away. If only to see justice befall upon the people who were behind it all. The captain’s tension was easily visible, evoking a word of comfort from the man in the co-pilot’s seat.

“It’s alright, Chris… the worst is behind us… I’ve just transferred all the data we had to the Attorney General. Even without the defector’s full testimony, we’ve got enough to bury these fuckers for good.”

Chris just scoffed at Leon’s naive assumption that some suits would be able to bring down the true heads behind this disaster. Just like always, the small fish would take the blame, while the real villains would walk scot-free.

No… these snakes will bribe their way out of any death sentence… scurry away from any prison… There is only one kind of Justice that will keep them down for good. And I’ll deliver it myself, if I have to. Damn the consequences.

“There’s our jet.”

“Right.”

Directing the Dragonfly to land on a small strip of airfield next to two larger private jets, Chris felt unwelcome wetness trailing down his cheeks. Even a hardened man like him could only take so much before finally cracking. This will be his last rodeo as a commanding officer. He simply could not do it all again. Bond with brave, amazing men and women… only to lose them all.

Getting out of the Dragonfly hovercraft, Chris did not forget to pat the metal beast itself in a fond farewell. The vehicle had served them well over the years, allowing the Hound Wolf Squad to move around with swiftness and stealth, but it was simply not built for transoceanic flights. That’s where Uncle Sam came in. While disillusioned with the U.S. Government himself - and for good reasons, Chris trusted Leon, and Leon trusted these people. They would get them to New York, and after that…

 

Well, after that, there will be blood.

 

Gripping his holster tightly, the captain swept his gaze across the shapes surrounding him on this dark airstrip. Many were lying on gurneys and stretchers - still in unconsciousness. The others were standing and staring back at him. There was pain, fear and uncertainty in their gazes. But there was also resolve and determination. The desire for vengeance… Chris could relate the most to that last sentiment.

Still, he had to give voice to this fateful question.

Moving away from the huddled group a couple of steps, with Leon walking by his side, Chris cleared his throat in a bid to address this gang of misfits that has already been through so much, while not missing the humongous shape of the Duke that climbed out from the second jet.

“Leon here assures me that our part is done. That the U.S. government will lead the international community in finding and punishing those who are guilty of so many crimes - the last but not least of which were the attacks on your families.”

Ethan and Bela glared back at Chris; the intensity of their stares was quite telling of what they thought about someone else supposedly finishing this fight for them. Chris still continued, pretending to ignore their scalding glares.

“I am sure that our mutual associate Duke will happily provide safe havens for anyone who wishes to return to peaceful lives, right now.”

The merchant only nodded, indicating his willingness to assist anyone present, in whatever way he could. Chris was still far from done, however.

“However, I, for one, will not rest on my laurels and let the others finish this fight, not after everything. As never before, I am determined to put my own life on the line to make sure that these people do not escape justice - not again. Whoever boards this plane with me, know that you will endanger not only yourself - but your loved ones.”

“Cut the crap, Chris.”

Shocking everyone, it was Ethan who interrupted the large captain. Folding his arms, the Dulvey survivor stepped forward before saying what everyone else was thinking.

“Endanger our loved ones? Really? It’s a bit too fucking late for that, isn’t it?”

Bela only nodded, before taking her place side by side with Ethan, while squeezing his palm and speaking, with that same fierceness the man himself showed.

“Indeed. How can we ever feel safe or secure until we make sure that these people will never be able to come after us again?”

“We must destroy these cocksuckers, before they destroy us. Simple as that.” crudely offered Heisenberg, even as he glanced with undisguised dismay at the still form of Millie - who was lying on a medical cot.

Alcina scoffed, before taking a single step forward, while trying to hide her disfigured hand behind her back. “I can’t believe I am in accord with that fool Heisenberg, but for once - he is right. If they could find us in Cuba… they could find us anywhere.” The countess’s gaze hardened, showing a century of bloodshed she had lived through, “And I believe I have a personal debt to pay…”

The others had added their consents as they murmured among each other.

Chris could not suppress a small smile from breaking through his blood-soaked grimace. Even if they could not bring down the Connections’ entire Board of Directors in New York… they could put a bullet in between the eyes of their primary client - the U.N. Secretary General. Without their main benefactor and with the international community on their ass, even that formidable biomanufacturing organization would crumble eventually - just like Umbrella and Tricell did. That would not win the War on Bioterror, but it would give them the breathing room they so desperately needed.

Before they could depart, however, there was an issue of their wounded. Jill, Rolando and Millie simply could not continue the fight in their current shapes. As much as he knew Jill and Rolando would hate to be left behind, it would be for the best... With a particularly long sigh, Chris turned to address the Duke, while motioning at a trio of medical stretchers nearby.

“Can I trust you to take care of them?” 

The Duke gave a heartfelt nod, while responding in a somber voice.

“You can, Mr. Redfield. Ms. Valentine, in particular, could benefit from meeting a colleague from Japan, I think.”

Responding with a grim nod, the captain shook the merchant’s hand, before approaching the trio of stretchers and kneeling next to the middle one.

Even with her body missing a hand, Jill’s face appeared to be fully at peace as she experienced a dreamless, drug-induced slumber.

“You’re gonna hate me for making you miss this fight, aren’t you?” Chris knew his partner well, so her predictable lack of answer to his rhetorical question was not really needed. Clasping her remaining palm, Chris found himself more determined than ever to put an end to the Connections and their benefactors. Too long had he hunted down bioweapons in the middle of nowhere - the products. Now, he will hunt down those responsible for their creation in the first place - in their shiny glass skyscrapers and on their private islands. Now that he had their names - thanks to James Sallow - he will come after them himself and he will not be dissuaded by their lack of military training or expensive Armani suits. Kindness was not going to save this world, no matter how much Chris wished otherwise. 

 

Some people just had to die.

 

“Get better, partner. I’ll see you soon.” Giving one more reassuring squeeze to Jill’s palm, Chris stood up, only to repeat the procedure with Rolando, while listening in to Heisenberg’s, Tom’s and Duke’s conversation, taking place next to Millie’s stretcher.

“Never knew I even had a fucking daughter… you better make sure I won’t lose her, you hear me?”

“Naturally, Lord Heisenberg… Millicent… Millie is akin to a daughter I never had, as well. I’ll spare no expense to see her recover from this trauma…” 

“Mills’ tough. She will pull through.”

Giving one last glance to their seriously-injured comrades, Chris stood up and approached Ethan next - the father was holding his sleeping daughter with tender care, even as he gazed at the full moon, which shined bright down on them on this cloudless night.

“Are you sure this is what you want, Ethan? At least consider leaving Rose with the Duke.”

The father returned the captain a grim look, before responding in a sour tone.

“Mia was right after all - nowhere is safe, Chris. Not as long as these people walk the earth. We will not be separated again.” 

Bela was quick to pitch in, “We will keep her safe, Ethan. Together.”

“Together.” nodded the father, smiling at the blonde vampire with enough affection to truly surprise Chris. While a certain cynic in him wanted the captain to note that their romance was a silly thing and that it would never work out in the long-term, Chris was quite aware of how hypocritical that would sound. Instead of admonishing them for their peculiar relationship, Chris only smirked at the moldy lovebirds, before inquiring about the rest of the Dimitrescu siblings.

“Perhaps we should leave Cassandra and Daniela with the Duke, after all?”

Bela just glared at him with disbelief at that, before scoffing and responding, “Really, Chris? Do you want Cassandra to murder you? Coz, that’s what’s gonna happen if she wakes up and finds out she was left behind. And Daniela would eagerly help her.”

“Pretty sure both of them would be up and running before we even cross the ocean.” Added his own two cents Ethan, even though privately he wanted to keep Daniela out of harm’s way. The ditzy girl was almost like a little sister to him, at this point...

The captain produced an exasperated sigh before motioning towards the U.S. jet. 

“All aboard, then.”

 

***

 

Letting out a large yawn, Ethan opened his weary eyes, only to find himself seated in the plane’s comfortable seat.

Glancing to his right, the man was immediately confronted with cascading locks of blonde hair - radiant from the rising sun’s glow on them that reached all the way through the plane’s open illuminator. It took a moment further for the man’s sleepy eyes to focus and discover the source of the blonde hair as the head that was resting on his own shoulder.

Bela…

Ethan was swift to achieve a sense of elevation upon realization that it was Bela Dimitrescu’s head that was resting on his shoulder. Some would consider it a peculiar reaction, especially since this very woman had once driven a sickle through his calf, yet today Ethan wanted no one by his side as much as this dangerous, vampiric creature.

Bela appeared to be peacefully snoozing, with her body moving in accordance with her calm breathing. Ethan’s own hand was wrapped around her shoulder, putting them in a comfortable, warm embrace. While the man found incredible solace in this simple act of their bodies being entangled like this and the desire to simply remain in this exact position burned strong in his soul, the call of nature was not something a mere mortal like himself could ignore…

Carefully disentangling himself from the cuddly embrace, Ethan made sure to not disturb Bela while he replaced her impromptu pillow with an actual one - that was helpfully lying nearby.

Standing up from his seat and maneuvering out of their row without waking up his blonde companion, Ethan proceeded to find a lavatory to do his business in, before making his way back to their seats. Feeling a certain spring in his step, the man decided to explore this jet for a bit before returning to his seat, but not before taking a moment to just gaze at Bela’s face - only to be struck speechless by how beautiful she appeared in her sleep. Unmarred by creases of their daily worry and utterly relaxed in her hopefully peaceful dreamscape, Bela seemed almost inhuman in her ethereal beauty - but not a monster as her unnatural origins would imply, but an angel - sent to this sinful Earth to save his lost, wandering soul.

Giving the bug-woman he had come to love a genuine smile and placing a tender, featherlight kiss on her forehead, Ethan still couldn’t miss the fact that the seat to the left of his own was empty.

“Rosie?” tried the father with a whisper, only to immediately receive a response from the next row.

“I am here, daddy.”

Smiling at the sound of his daughter’s lovely voice, Ethan took a couple of steps through the aisle to find himself staring at the peculiar sight that greeted him on that row of seats.

Rose was there, alright, as was Alcina and the phantasmic image of Eveline. Lacking the words to describe what was going on, exactly, Ethan took a moment to simply gape at the way his daughter clutched Alcina’s disfigured hand with its nails elongated into wickedly sharp blades - still red from the blood they had spilled. Whatever Rosie was doing, both Alcina and Eveline appeared to observe it with tense expressions, while the latter was also providing some kind of instructions.

“Draw the mold back, Rosie. Order it to return where it belongs - into her arms and the empty veins waiting for it.”

To Ethan’s shock, Rose simply nodded, before closing her eyes - even as her tiny hands coiled around Alcina’s wrist. A beat of tense silence followed, as his daughter continued the silent process, with visible exertion making itself plain on her tiny face. Before Ethan could tell her to cease whatever it was she was doing, Alcina’s nail-blades slowly but surely started to retract, with the countess herself hissing in pain from the obviously painful process.

“Sorry…” mumbled out Rose, as she opened her eyes and gazed at the countess’ agonized visage, only for the older woman to lightly shake her head and grace the girl with a warm… almost parental smile.

“You have nothing to apologize for, precious Rose. You’ve done something my feeble body was incapable of doing on its own… Thank you, child.”

Carefully inspecting her now normal-looking limb, Alcina addressed the father next. 

“Your child is a true miracle, Mr. Winters…”

“That she is…” was the only amazement-filled response Ethan could come up with, after seeing Rosemary’s display of powers for the first time.

“This is nothing. You should’ve seen what we did for Dani, daddy.” offered Eveline, without turning her gaze from Rosie. 

“So sleepy…” mumbled out Rosie herself, before letting out a cute yawn and comfortably cuddling on Alcina’s lap; the older woman taking the cue to start caressing the girl’s back with tender hands.

“Her body is still unused to manipulating the mold - she gets tired fast…” offered Eveline, before finally turning to gaze at Ethan and noting, “Oh, you should probably tell Captain Hardass that Anna herself is innocent, before he decides to toss her out.”

Anna… At the mention of the name of the traitor who had led the Replica right into their safehouse, Ethan felt his hands tighten into fists. While he did not like to consider himself a particularly violent or unreasonable man, he felt nothing but the desire to pummel those who tried to hurt his family and friends into the ground upon hearing the bitch’s name. Not that he was any better himself… Eveline knew right from the start that something was off with that Russian girl… yet Ethan did nothing - allowing this tragedy to play out in the first place.

Still, now Eveline claimed that their prisoner was innocent? How did that make any sense? At his questioning gaze, Eveline just shrugged her ghostly shoulders, before providing a vague response, “It’s hard to explain, daddy. She was not in control of her actions - someone else was… a very, very bad man. He is gone now, though.”

That definitely merited further investigation, as Ethan would hate to see Anna subject to whatever enhanced interrogation techniques that awaited her in New York, if she truly was just a victim of circumstances. Before he could head off, however, Alcina addressed the lone father, with a particularly solemn tone.

“When my dearest Bela helped you escape our castle, Mr. Winters, I wanted to rip and tear. I wanted to punish my dearest daughter for taking your side - an outsider’s - over her own family. It took me far too long to realize that everything she did - she did for her family. Just like you did, Mr. Winters… Ethan…”

Giving the countess an even glance, Ethan couldn’t help but note that he felt completely at ease at the fact that she was now cuddling his daughter. Despite all their differences, in some ways, they all were remarkably similar…

“Forgive me for presuming, but if that’s the case - I think that we are all quite alike, Lady Dimitrescu.”

Alcina’s lips curled into a calm smile, at that, before she whispered out, “Perhaps we are…”

Seeing the countess turning her head away from him, even as she tenderly ruffled Rose’s hair, Ethan felt a strange satisfaction. It felt good to find common ground with your former enemies… to have them turned into stalwart allies… friends, even… family, perhaps?

With a particular spring to his step, the father headed towards the tail of the plane, with Eveline jogging along. On their way, the man did not forget to properly thank the intangible ghost that had saved their collective asses - more than once.

“Thank you, Evie, for everything you did back there.”

“Thank me for what, precisely ?” The girl grinned wide at her adopted father, as her playful voice implied her desire for further praise. Knowing well that she more than deserved it, Ethan happily played along and listed her impressive achievements during that calamitous night, while theatrically bending his fingers, one by one.

“Well, let’s see, honey.”

The girl visibly flushed at the endearing term of address, but listened to Ethan with apt attention.

“You’ve helped me see these invisible freaks… that’s one.” Extending his index finger, Ethan continued, unsure - basing his next guess on Eveline’s own words, “You girls helped Daniela?”

Eveline nodded happily, but was swift to amend, “Dani was wounded badly… mortally even. But Rose healed her - I just helped to direct her powers.”

Incredulous, Ethan just nodded along. To think that his three-year old daughter just saved a life… Daniela’s life! The ditzy redheaded vampire was a precious person to many aboard this plane - her survival meant the world to both her family, and to Ethan himself. The man had to override the feeling that this childish gesture would somehow devalue this miraculous salvation, but he still extended his second finger, keeping up the count.

“I don’t even know what to say, Evie… and that’s before you helped stop Anna?”

“Uh-huh. The baddie didn’t even notice me infecting Anna, so when he tried to make his final move, boy was he surprised when I paralyzed her body! Hah! What a loser!”

Ethan could clearly see the fright in the girl's eyes - with her bravado serving as nothing but a mask to conceal the fear she felt when recalling whoever was controlling Anna. Still, the father was amazed at the fact that Eveline had helped them so much in that blood-soaked night.

“Jesus, Evie… I am so sorry for doubting you in the first place... if only we apprehended Anna…”

“Nah, it’s alright, daddy, it made sense then… I had nothing but a bad feeling about that gal-slash-guy, and it would’ve been silly to go all nuts on her just based on that…”

Extending his sole ring finger, Ethan stopped and turned away to gaze at the teenage ghost. Opening his arms in a bid to invite her for a hug, the man waited for her to respond, as he knew that she was the one who had to initiate physical contact, due to her unique… condition.

“Come here, honey… you’ve been through so much tonight… more than any of us, probably…”

Eveline smiled softly up at her adopted father, before eagerly jumping into his warm embrace. Much like a ghost, the contact with her felt eerily chilly, yet Ethan coiled his arms around the suddenly tangible girl with gusto, before lifting her up and spinning around with carefree mirth - much like a father would, with his own beloved daughter. In turn, Eveline shrieked in unbridled joy at the unexpected but welcome gesture, so Ethan continued to spin, while letting out genuinely happy laughter. They were all supposed to die in that villa, but against all odds - they made it out.

“The hell are you doing..?”

Cassandra’s disbelieving voice brought them down back to earth, however. Stopping his silly spinning and taking a moment to recover from the onset of vertigo, Ethan glanced to the left of the aisle to witness the fiery middle daughter of Dimitrescu.

The brunette was gazing back at him with her mouth pulled under her nose and right eye narrowed, with the left one open wide. It was a pretty comical grimace, all in all, and suddenly Ethan found himself bursting into loud laughter - only unnerving Cassandra further.

“...are you high, or something?”

Wiping the excess mirth from his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt, Ethan placed his hands in calming motion, before giving Cassandra another glance. The rough woman had clearly seen better days, with both of her arms covered in bandages, but otherwise she appeared to be fine. Seeing the man calm down from his onset of unexplainable mirth, the brunette just shrugged her shoulders - before wincing in pain from the gesture - and lit up a cigarette.

“Hey, no smoking on the plane!” Ethan immediately attempted to protest the motion, with the vicious woman puffing a smoke ring at him in response, before offering a single phrase.

“Bite me.”

Feeling mischievous under her playful amber orbs, Ethan was quick with his own wit.

“I would be happy to, but I think both Bela and Chris would attempt to kill me, if I did that.”

Now it was Cassandra’s turn to crane her head backwards as she let out a booming laughter, before calming down and showing the man two rows of her pearly white teeth. Ethan was somehow no longer unnerved by the display of her natural weaponry - something he knew took more than a single life. 

“You’re welcome, by the way. Was a good shot, am I right?”

Upon hearing Cassandra’s boastful question, Ethan instantly recalled the assassin that had been imperiling him and that she had vaporized with that energy weapon; Ethan did not hesitate in responding.

“It was a great shot, Cass. I owe you one.”

Surprising the father, instead of boasting further about him owing her a favor, the vicious sibling merely shook her head, before taking a deep drag of her cigarette. Letting the smoke out, the brunette mumbled out a sentence that was more than a little shocking for the father to hear.

“You don’t owe me shit, Ethan. I am fully aware that I come across as a massive bitch most of the time, but I just want you to know that I appreciate everything you have done for my family… especially after everything I...” Cassandra suddenly grew quiet, as if chewing on the rest of the unsaid sentence. Clearly, these were not the kind of things that were often heard leaving her mouth.

“Cass…”, tried Ethan, even though he just had no further words himself - he had never expected this tough-as-nails and crass woman to convey her gratitude to him that openly, but she was clearly not done.

“I am not finished.” Giving her cigarette another puff, Cassandra visibly struggled with her next words, almost as if they brought her physical discomfort.

“I want… I am sor… I want to apologize for what I put you through, back then…” The brief but unforgettable torture session from two years ago was quick to flash across Ethan’s mind at her words. There had been nothing but sadism in her amber orbs as she mutilated his shoulder with her dagger or when her sharp teeth violated his hand, back then.

Yet now, Ethan could see plainly the genuine remorse and gratitude that sparked in her eyes. Even this fiercest of Dimitrescu had capacity for these most human of emotions behind her veneer of brutality and scorn, it appeared. And while he could not truly forget the suffering she had put him through, Ethan was ready to move past it.

“No hard feelings, Cass. It’s all in the past.”

Offering his hand for a shake, Ethan was still surprised when the vicious brunette eagerly stifled her cigarette against her own denim shorts, before flinging it away and accepting his hand with her unbandaged left palm.

Exchanging this gesture of forgiveness, Ethan didn’t miss Cassandra’s lips morphing into a warm smile - with no hint of malice or cruelty in it, for once. The man smiled back - returning the affection in kind.

If someone had told him that he would be exchanging heartfelt smiles with Cassandra Dimitrescu a month ago, he would’ve undoubtedly called such a person batshit crazy… yet here he was, doing just that.

Funny how fickle the future can be…

Eveline herself just watched the unfolding scene with sparks in her eyes. Witnessing this unique moment of forgiveness was especially valuable for this ghostly girl, who could still not let go of her own haunting and blood-soaked past. The lives she had taken were a heavy burden upon her soul and she wanted to do nothing more but to return to the past to fix the horrific mistakes she committed in Louisiana - if only that was possible. While she could do nothing for the Bakers or her other victim, beholding this heartwarming scene made her more resolute than ever to do her best to ensure that no other young girl or boy would follow in her bloodied footsteps. The Connections had to be dismantled… and she had just the plan to do exactly that… thanks to Paxton Fettel. For once in her unnatural existence, Eveline was determined to spare the world from suffering, instead of adding to it.

Unaware of Eveline’s thought processes, Ethan proceeded towards the plane’s tail, leaving Cassandra with another of her cigarettes. There - at the last, spacious row - was quite a gathering. Leon, Chris, Dion, Tom, Karl and Daniela were all seated or standing around the bound and gagged form of Anna. While Heisenberg was apparently engaged in a heated exchange with Redfield and Kennedy, the other trio stood aside and enjoyed a much calmer discussion. Ethan didn’t miss a peculiar scene of Tom and Dion exchanging competitive glances among themselves with apparently oblivious Daniela in between. If the ditzy redheaded Dimitrescu was aware of the looks of affection the two men were shooting at her, she made a splendid job of masking it by making casual conversation and easy jokes.

“... and then, Cassandra walked right in and a whole bucket of pig’s blood got dumped on her! That was so fun! You should've seen her face! She was soooooo mad! She chased me around the castle for hours!”

To Ethan, that sounded like a pretty damn mean prank to play on somebody - even if that somebody was Cassandra - and apparently neither Tom or Dion were much in the mood for jokes at the moment, as the harrowing events of the night were still fresh in their memories, yet they still let out an awkward chuckle at Daniela’s story. The Dimitrescu girl, seeing their subdued reaction, let out an awkward giggle of her own, followed by a heavy sigh, which was then succeeded by tense silence. Clearly, in her typical fashion, the joyous sibling attempted to lighten the loaded mood with humor, even if she herself was tormented by the horrendous events of this blood-soaked night.

Upon seeing Ethan, however, the redhead bolted like a loaded spring in her unadulterated desire to engulf the father in a bone-crushing hug.

“Whoa, easy there, Red!”, mumbled the shocked man, even as he returned the affection to the emotive woman. For a couple of seconds, they just stood there in the aisle, with Ethan drawing gentle circles on Daniela’s back.

“I am so glad that you’re alright, Ethan!”

“Likewise, Red.”

The emotive encounter turned brief, as Ethan was quite aware of all the attention he was receiving. Giving the girl’s back one more hearty pat, Ethan broke the embrace before addressing the company at large.

“You’re having a war council here or something?”

“Something like that, Ethan. We have an opportunity here - to crush both the Connection’s benefactors and facilities in one fell swoop.” offered Chris, before motioning at several stacks of documents and electronic maps lying all over the seats. Leon was quick to add his own two cents upon seeing Ethan’s eyes slightly widening from all the available information.

“Thanks to our late friend James Sallow, we know exactly where every major Connections’ existing facility is… but the problem is, we also know their standing protocols…”

“Meaning?” inquired Ethan, with Chris responding, while pointing at large blue dots on a global map, that each likely indicated a major facility.

“We attack any one of these with a lightning-raid, and the rest will be promptly evacuated - with the personnel and material going to the ground. Else, we start amassing forces next to them in preparation for a coordinated assault, and the moles the Connections have everywhere will achieve a similar result in their favor. It’s gonna be a tricky thing to eliminate them once and for all, even with all the resources and information at our disposal… so we are considering our next move carefully.”

Before Ethan could note that all this strategic planning was a bit out of his depth, Eveline dramatically cleared her throat, attracting his attention. Glancing at the ghostly girl, the father was surprised to see a particularly mischievous look in her green eyes.

 

“It’s your lucky day, daddy! I have just the plan for this!”

Notes:

I apologize for the long delay, I admit my writing has been all over the place, lately.

Firstly, I've finally finished 'Haunted by the Past' miniseries, and if you're curious to know how Alcina came to be the first of Four Lords under Miranda, the first chapter will narrate just that! :)

Secondly, in another AU that takes place six months before RE8, I wrote the first part of 'Obsession' and it follows Cassandra Dimitrescu as she makes her way across the still-populated village and her castle. This will be an eventual Chris/Cass, but it will also put a lot of focus on Cassandra's interactions with her family, their staff and even the villagers.

Finally, in yet another AU, I've decided to revisit the original concept for this story, with one difference. What if not Bela but Daniela helped our moldy boy during his escapade into their castle? This story will be remarkably more fast-burn (but still hopefully not character-breaking) in terms of budding romance, compared to my other stories. I've called it 'Hello Neighbor!'

Ultimately, despite all that, I am still determined to finish this story in a timely manner, however! If you have any feedback for any of my stories, never hesitate to leave a comment! I'd love to hear any suggestions, thoughts or critique you might have! :) Have a great week!

Chapter 39: The War on Bioterror, Part I

Chapter Text

It was seemingly in an entirely different life in which Ethan last walked the busy streets of New York City.

Fifteen years did not quite measure the distance he felt between himself now and that strapping young man. That 24-year old Ethan, who had enjoyed a well-deserved vacation on the streets of Big Apple with his Texan girlfriend Mia, was almost an alien to Ethan today.

He never knew what had made him catch Mia’s attention, back then. His university grades were perfectly mediocre and the salary of his newfound job had been nothing special. Yet that woman - beautiful, from a rich family and with prestigious education and prospective job -  had chosen to date him. And Ethan had done everything in his power to prove himself worthy of her affection - even scrounging what little money he had to organize the vacation to New York - for the two of them.

Recalling himself so long ago, the man could only shake his head in mild amusement. His only worry back then was impressing that hot and rich girl, who was already a high-ranking employee in a trading company - or so he had thought, back then. 

He could still remember vividly how they had meandered through Central Park, with Ethan’s gaze rarely leaving Mia’s denim shorts-clad legs. The outing to Times Square, where Ethan had attempted to spend the rest of his hard-earned money, only for Mia to pay for everything, with an easy and joyous laugh. Their trip to the Statue of Liberty, during which Mia had shocked the man to the core with her sudden talk of potential marriage and her desire to have kids of her own, one day.

He had been so madly in love with her, back then. And she was with him… he was sure of it. Regardless of what had transpired between them in the last years, Ethan was sure of one thing. Their emotions had been genuine - always. Rosemary was the triumph of their union - based on mutual love and respect…

How could everything go so wrong…

Brushing away an unwelcome wetness from his eyes, Ethan gazed at the streets as their car sped down the road. It seemed more than just a different life - the world itself changed to the point where he struggled to recognize it.

Where there was once life and joy as crowds of eager tourists and carefree youths happily stomped their way across sun-soaked boulevards, were only gloomy and overworked drudges now - trudging their way through similarly drab and melancholic streets. Grim-faced police officers that patrolled the streets in pairs and pestered anyone even remotely suspicious-looking for IDs hardly added any color to this bleak picture. Neither did the heavily-fortified, National Guard-manned checkpoints that choked the once bustling metropolis.

Ethan was familiar with the extreme-sounding concept - something he had to live with during the last years of his stay in Los Angeles; even though it was just in its inception phase, back then. Miller’s Urban Safety Act, passed in 2015 in the wake of an ever-increasing number of large-scale outbreaks taking place around the globe, saw most major population centers segregated into self-sufficient districts - with movement in between them for the ordinary citizenry only available with pre-approved papers.

The idea behind the Act was to limit the casualties to civilian population in case of an outbreak - by swiftly quarantining the affected district with newly-constructed infrastructure. The coming years would see the Act performing as advertised, as a number of international experts conceded that the death toll on populations of Chicago in the outbreak of 2018 and Los Angeles in 2020 would’ve been far greater if not for these seemingly extreme measures. Still, regardless of the benefit, the Act had a massive de-urbanization effect, with everyone who could afford to do so - moving out of the large cities into more rural areas. As is always the case in human history - the destitute masses were left behind.

With their car approaching one of such checkpoints when they attempted to cross from Brooklyn to Manhattan, Ethan’s bleak musings had to be put on hold, as the man tensed up in anticipation. While his comrades had assured him that his newest identity would hold up to any scrutiny, Ethan still nervously licked his lips when a National Guard with a full kit of NBC gear on him started to check out their identities against his PDA.

Ethan felt his breath caught in his throat when the guardsman’s scrutinizing glare lingered on his own face. At any second now, the lone father expected the grunt to recognize him from the news or person of interest list and to raise alarm. To Ethan’s unbridled relief, however, the guardsman checked Ethan’s fake identity against his PDA one more time before giving their driver a nod, allowing Ethan to resume breathing.

“You’re clear. Have a good day.”

“Thank you, corporal.”

The very picture of friendly calm, Dion offered the guardsman an easy smile before accelerating their car towards their goal - the Empire State Building. While they drove across the picturesque Brooklyn Bridge, Ethan had a moment further to reflect upon the foolhardy plan they came up with. 

Under Chris’ leadership and with the full support of the president of the United States, the gang had settled on a plan that involved a simultaneous assault on two priority targets.

The Alpha Team - consisting of Chris, Leon, Bela and Daniela would assist the U.S. Marines in crashing the party at the U.N. headquarters - where the agents were hoping to catch the Secretary-General red-handed in the process of deploying the E-002 bioweapons to take control of the motion that was taking place today - the reformation of the security council and the expansion of United Nations political and economic powers, with only United States and Russia standing in opposition.

Then there were the four of them - Dion, Ethan, Cassandra and Karl were the so-called Bravo Team today - the heavy hitters. Their task? To obliterate the Connections by following the insane plan Eveline herself had proposed.

Despite the father himself considering it a batshit-crazy endeavor, he trusted his adopted ghostly daughter, and therefore conveyed her idea in the most positive light - with Bela taking their side, naturally. After some consideration, the majority of the gang found the risk to be worth the reward. And the prize was tempting, indeed - to end the Connections, once and for all. With Eveline’s idea further refined by Leon and his top agent - Ingrid Hunnigan, the gang was all set on their course.

And all they had to do to see Eveline’s plot to fruition was to infiltrate Armacham Technology Corporation - the mega-corporation responsible for development and deployment of the whole international Replica Force; their close ties to both the Connections and the United Nations were naturally not something that was publicly advertised - but something that could be exploited. 

The corporation’s headquarters were located inside the Empire State Building, which was sold to the rapidly growing organization back in 2016 and now served as an important administrative wing of the ATC, in addition to being a major Relay that oversaw the workings of Replica Force on an international level.

Now, interfacing with something as advanced and enigmatic as a Psionic Relay was a tall order, yet apparently, the infiltrator who had taken control of Anna was a high-ranking agent serving the U.N. Secretary-General, with a deep insight into the Replica Force itself and a vast knowledge of their backdoor protocols. And much of what he knew… Eveline now knew as well, thanks to her infection of his latest host.

With the information she had gleaned from the body-snatcher, Eveline was confident that were she to infect a Replica Commander that was overseeing the Relay - she would be able to briefly assume control of their whole, worldwide force. From that point, all she would have to do was to identify the Connections' facilities as hostile targets while setting the lethality level to maximum and the Replica platoons - which were helpfully stationed near every such facility - would do the rest. It was a gamble whether the Replica would have enough time to wreck every facility before a countermanding order would come through from another major installation, but if they could also wreck ESB’s Relay afterwards, the odds were firmly in their favor. Replica were nothing if not efficient and deadly, after all.

Despite finding no short amount of poetic justice in the fact that the whole crazy idea involved setting Replica Troopers loose on their own allies, Ethan still had a very bad feeling about this operation. On paper it didn’t actually look that difficult. As long as their credentials as official government inspectors held up, they would have no issue getting access to the top floor of ESB - the location of the relay itself. Up there, there would be guards, of course; the eventual violence was inevitable. However, as a safety feature, Armacham Technology Corporation did not employ their own Replica as security for their own facilities - instead relying exclusively on ordinary human guards and mechanical devices.

Glancing at the backseats and seeing smirking faces of Cassandra and Heisenberg, Ethan had little doubt that anything in that building would be able to even put up a fight against these most monstrous of combatants. Once the opposition would be eliminated, it would come to just Eveline holding up her end - and the girl was confident that she was up to the task. Still… something gnawed on Ethan’s stomach. Their job appeared almost as… too easy.

“What are we doing… this is fucking insane…” muttered out Ethan, dismaying at the depth of the pit he had found himself in.

“What the hell are you complaining about? This is an opportunity of a lifetime! Think of all the fun we are going to have up there!” pointed out Cassandra, in her typical cheeky voice. Obviously, the semi-sane sadist was salivating at the prospect of mass-slaughter that she was invited to partake in.

“Gotta admit, this does sound… fun. ” added Heisenberg, with thinly-veiled malice in his tone. The scruffy man’s eagerness to get back at the people who had forced him to hide in Australia for two years was plain to see.

If we do this right, we will finally be free of the ghosts of our past, daddy. 

Eveline’s voice, coming from inside his own head, was somehow enough to settle the jittery father. She was right. This was a job that was uniquely suited to the two of them and if they aced it, they had a good chance at having a shot at that peaceful life Ethan dreamed of. No violence or murder, no shenanigans in the dark, no more running. Just him, his friends and his family, living the rest of their lives as heroes and not as fugitives. That was the offer, at least.

Mommy says hi.

Ethan smirked and lightly shook his head in amusement. It was still a shock to him that apparently Bela got infected by Eveline and could now communicate with him across vast distances. What was even more surprising, however, was how easily the blonde woman took to the ghostly girl and the fact that she was referred to exclusively as ‘mommy’ by her.

Give mommy a kiss for me, would you? And tell her to be careful.

Sure thing!

With their goal now looming in sight, Ethan felt that anxiety crawling back inside of him. Something bad was going to happen - he was sure of it, somehow. Yet it was simply too late to turn back, so the father remained still and silent, instead gazing out of the window of their slowly-moving car. The traffic was tight, thanks to the commotion that was taking place at Union Square.

Apparently, a small parade of Replica Force was being held today, with many potential investors and buyers eager to witness how the cloned super-soldiers performed in a densely populated urban center. The hundred or so Replica Troopers marched around the Union Square Park in perfect synchronicity and unbreakable lines - appearing utterly apathetic to a large protest that was taking place right there, as well. 

The protestors carried typical peace signs, in addition to banners that proclaimed the B.O.W. troopers to be an abomination against God or held demands that the emotionless freaks and their corporate overlords be expunged from their city. The cops held them back, yet an occasional thrown can or a bottle would find itself splashing against Replica’s armored bodies, covering them in various colored fluids. True to their nature, they did not even flinch at having such stuff flung at them, instead simply continuing their orderly march - to the clients and overseers unbridled joy. Apparently, the protest turned out to be an impressive, if unexpected display of the clones' unwavering obedience and steadfastness. 

“Five… maybe ten years, and these masked freaks will start taking over policing duties worldwide. Talk about Big Brother, huh.” noted Dion, as he hatefully glared at the parade. Trying to play Devil’s advocate, Ethan provided a counterpoint.

“Is that really bad, though? They seem to be pretty chill and objective-driven. Might cut down on all that police brutality and corruption.” 

Dion just scoffed, before passionately responding, “Sure thing, brother. Do I need to remind you that we are literally going to set them on a murderous rampage, worldwide - just the four of us? What’s stopping some rich and resourceful psycho from trying the same shit, but telling them to kill everyone, indiscriminately, ten years from now? Not to mention how a single fucking corporation controls their every move - while lying to their clients.” 

“Point taken.”

Leon did mention that Armacham would likely go down after their little stunt here, as well. Even if their ties to the Connections and the Secretary-General were too well-hidden even for James Shallow to have been able to prove them, something else would serve more than damning enough. If the gang was to succeed here, Replica platoons worldwide - which the corporation had sold to governmental and private entities - would abandon their posts and ignore their human superiors’ orders, only to embark on a rampage triggered by a previously undisclosed master signal. Such a stark violation of contract - taking place simultaneously in dozens of spots around the globe - would do no favor to Armacham’s advertisement campaign that promised nothing but a blindly-obedient and absolutely loyal military force.

The time for musings was growing short, however, as the Bravo Team’s car just made a turn onto 33rd Street, with their goal looming in sight.

“Never expected to kick ass side by side with you, niece.” Suddenly offered Heisenberg, with Cassandra immediately letting out a mean giggle in response, before recalling the older man’s rebellion against Miranda.

“Neither did I, uncle! Maybe you should’ve invited us to join your little crusade against Miranda, instead of going at it by yourself, all these years.”

Heisenberg only scoffed and noted, with a hint of frustration, “Yeah right, as if the Big Bitch would not have gone scurrying to her precious Mother first thing in the morning, if I did that - ruining decades of hard work… not that it amounted to much in the end, regardless…”

Cassandra’s gaze immediately hardened upon the unflattering reference to Alcina, but the woman allowed her so-called uncle to continue his sentence, before hissing out, “I don’t like it when you refer to mom like that...”

The threat was clear in her voice, making even Ethan on his front seat gulp. Still, Heisenberg appeared completely unbothered by Cassandra’s menacing gaze. Letting out a chuckle, the man was swift to deliver a mocking retort.

“Well, I don’t like a great many things, as well, Buttercup. Like, for example - who the fuck gonna compensate me for my beloved factory that asshole Redfield blew up? That was family business, for fuck sake.”

“And that’s why you should consider insuring your property, Mr. Heisenberg! You never know when an accident might happen, after all.” Immediately quipped out Dion; the man’s easy wit surprised Ethan, once again. Heisenberg was understandably less amused, letting out a dissatisfied grunt, while Cassandra bursted into mean snickering.

The gang’s car finally made its way through the tightly-packed traffic jam and slowly descended down into the ESB’s underground parking lot.

“I just can’t believe how fucking Raul was right about all this mega-corporations conspiracy shit… next thing we know we will be fighting goddamn reptile-people,” muttered the incredulous-sounding Cassandra, as her amber orbs gazed at several security guards in Armacham’s blue uniform - patrolling both around the ESB and inside its parking lot.

“Raul? Should Chris be worried?” Chirped out Ethan, confusion in his voice at the fact that the vicious Dimitrescu sibling apparently had an acquaintance she didn’t immediately murder mixed with amusement at the unknown man’s seemingly conspiracy-spinning inclinations.

“Just some guy I’ve met in Cuba. Really chill. Good sex, too. And yeah…” Cassandra licked her luscious lips with wicked motion; a spark of hunger flickering in her eyes as no-doubt filthy thoughts rushed through her brunette head, “Chris should totally be worried… I love him going all jealous and possessive on me.”

“Jesus. You sure have some issues, Buttercup,” mumbled out Heisenberg, while taking off his glasses to gaze at his deranged niece. She, in turn, merely scoffed before delivering a playful retort.

“Shut up, metal-humper! Bet your ass I’ll kill more humans than you today!”

And Heisenberg was instant in taking the callous bet. “You’re on.”

“Uhm… hate to rain on your homicidal parade, but our goal is not to murder as many guards as possible, but to take over the relay floor, capture the commander and protect Ethan while Eveline does her infection thingie.”

The car stopped at their assigned parking spot, putting an end to the peculiar conversation. Getting out of their vehicle, Ethan couldn’t help but glance at his partners-in-crime for the night - or, more specifically - their outfits. While the neutral gray business suits on either himself or Dion would likely not elicit any raised eyebrows, both Karl’s and Cassandra’s deserved a double take. Apparently reflecting his whole persona, Heisenberg somehow managed to find the most unkempt and scruffy suit around, which, when combined with his signature tinted glasses, dirty shirt and messy hair gave the man a certain... hobo look. Standing on the opposite spectrum, Cassandra - in her crisp black two-piece blazer and pants suit with a white shirt underneath evoked nothing less than the image of a serious businesswoman. With her high-heeled shoes and long hair tied in a pony-tail the woman was positively dashing in a no-nonsense way.

Reveling in the combined attention she was receiving, Cassandra only smirked, yet no comment celebrating her new-found fashion sense was forthcoming, as a mousy-looking pencil-pusher quickly approached their group.

“Oh, you must be the guys from the NHL’s inspection? We really didn’t expect you today…”

Flashing the clerk a National Historic Landmark inspector’s badge and a winning smile, Dion heartily patted the smaller man on his back, before reading the clerk’s name on his own badge and providing a reason for their ‘surprise’ visit. “You know how it is, Clive. Surprise inspections like this one are the best way to really tell if you guys have been taking good care of our great nation’s invaluable heritage.”

The clerk was clearly off-put by Dion’s overbearing charisma and merely muttered something inaudible under his breath before motioning towards the elevators and scurrying that way himself. Dion checked his own watch and quietly mumbled, “Thirty minutes early, even...” Trading glances of reassurance, the gang proceeded to follow the clerk to the parking lot’s elevator.

 

***

 

With their forged credentials passing the careful scrutiny and their lack of obvious weaponry seeing them through the security screening unmolested, the gang was inside the ATC HQ. To the corporation’s credit, the lobby of this historical building saw little change compared to how Ethan recalled it to be fifteen years ago. One difference was the composition of the assembled crowd inside - the number of eager tourists was certainly lower, while the uniformed guards and well-dressed employees and clients were far more numerous.

Having spent the next thirty minutes meandering through ESB’s floors that were still open to the general public in a bid to arouse as little attention as possible, the moment Dion’s watch pinged 18:00, the gang proceeded to return to one of the elevators. To their mutual annoyance, Clive, who was seemingly assigned to keep an eye on their little group, immediately followed the ‘inspectors’ inside.

In an attempt to keep up the charade, Dion started on vocalizing the excuse they would need to access the semi-restricted floors - not noticing Karl and Cassandra exchanging nods behind them.

“So, we would now like to check out the observation pla…”

Dion didn’t get to finish his sentence, as the moment the elevator’s door shut closed, Cassandra slammed the clerk's head against the wall in a lightning-swift, one-handed motion - with enough savagery to knock his lights right out. Meanwhile, Heisenberg manipulated his mastery over the magnetic fields to cause the security camera in the elevator to short-circuit.

Wincing at the display of brutality, but knowing that time was against them, Ethan swiftly recovered the fallen clerk's badge, only to press it against the elevator card reader. With a pleased beep, the electronic pad promoted their clearance level from guest to junior employee - allowing access to observation platforms, but not the Relay level. Not thinking twice, the father inputted their destination as the highest tier their clearance would get them.

“I guess that works, too...” noted Dion once the elevator lurched upwards, though not with a wince of his own as he gazed at the bloodstain left on the elevator’s wall. Cassandra clearly did not hold back with her treatment of the unfortunate clerk.

“What? That perv was ogling my ass for thirty fucking minutes…” mouthed out the fierce brunette, before giving the fallen man a hearty kick, causing his unconscious body to slam against the wall.

Giving a quick glance at her shapely rear, clad in tight, form-fitting business pants, Ethan experienced a traitorous thought. Hard to blame the poor guy… Quickly recovering his decorum, however, Ethan focused his attention at the rapidly-climbing floor number at the top of the cabin. They were likely going to encounter hostile guards soon and the father was not even armed… 

The elevator stopped upon reaching the 86th observatory floor - as far as their clearance would get them - when the goal was the 103rd floor. While an expected outcome for which the gang had accounted for, their next move was put on hold, however, as a pair of Armacham guards immediately peered in to accost the gang. Whatever demands for IDs or security clearance they were about to make died on their lips, as they gaped at the clerk’s unmoving body and the bloodstain on the cabin’s wall, however. 

Cassandra put a swift end to their flabbergasted states by punching the right man right in his throat and flooding the left one’s wide open mouth with a swarm of flesh-eating bugs - that was her own left arm, just a moment ago. Not allowing the right guard to recover, the vicious brunette brutally slammed her knee right into his balls, no doubt inflicting excruciating agony upon the already breathless man. With the right man’s guard wide open, it was a child’s play for the vampire to sink her sharp teeth deep into the man’s jugular - only to rip and tear it with a series of violent tugs of her soon-to-be-bloodied mouth.

Not actually tasting his rich man-blood in this particular instance, Cassandra - knowing that enough damage has been done to ensure the guard’s swift demise - switched her attention to his compatriot, who was frantically clawing at his own throat in a fruitless bid to get the vile insects out.

“Oh, not enjoying my sweet babies, are you?” 

Letting out one quick taunt, the bloodthirsty woman willed her obedient swarm to rapidly and painfully force their way back through his mouth - only to coalesce back into her hand - right under the man’s chin, while her other hand found its way towards the back of his head.

A single swift but savage tug was followed by a horrific sound of human neck snapping, making both Ethan and Dion let out a wince at the brutal display, with Karl limiting himself to an approving whistle. While all three men were aware that - despite all the movies claiming otherwise - it was a very difficult move to actually snap an adult man’s neck like that, Cassandra made it look easy. Just like in the aforementioned movies. Overtaken by morbid fascination, Ethan had to admit that Cassandra just won a lot of style points with the fact that both guards collapsed simultaneously; or the fact that it took mere seconds for the sadist to dispose of two guards, unarmed

“That’s two for me, uncle!”

Ignoring the boast and shaking off their discomfort at the callous life-taking, Dion and Ethan proceeded to help themselves to the H&K VP9 pistols the guards were equipped with - and not a moment too soon as the violent commotion had attracted more unwanted attention, with some random Armacham employee screaming in fright just outside the cabin. 

Immediately, the elevator panel started to glow red - indicating that the system was locked out from within. With every guard on the level rapidly converging on their cabin, the situation was not looking good - were a certain ferrokinetic not on their team, that is. 

Smirking, Karl Heisenberg merely clapped his hands together and just like that - the elevator’s door shut tight with a screech and a clung. Ignoring the guards yelling and banging on the doors outside the cabin, Heisenberg proceeded to gaze up - at the cabin’s ceiling and the utility hatch affixed to it. And not a second passed before an invisible force tore the hatch open and away, exposing the elevator’s cables to his gaze.

Cassandra, Dion and Ethan could only stare awestruck as the scruffy man showed his formidable powers in all of their glory. With but a jerk of his head sideways, the hoisting ropes suspending their elevator were severed, one by one - until nothing but Karl’s unnatural power stood between them and the deadly plunge from the 86th floor. 

Showing visible exertion from the indubiously massive effort of forcing their passenger-laden cabin to ascend upwards, Heisenberg was eager to demonstrate exactly why Miranda considered him her favored child. Ethan himself could do nothing but gape at the mutated Lord, while holding his breath and knowing that their fates hinged exclusively on Heisenberg’s shoulders at this moment. 

Suddenly, the sound of deforming metal screeching in protest combined with the violent shudder of the cabin that saw all but Heisenberg lose their footing made Ethan’s heart skip a beat. The Lord must’ve experienced an unexpected obstacle on their way up.

“Holy fuck!” Dion was understandably not amused at the perilous predicament - knowing well that he lacked the supernatural endurance required to survive a fall from such a height. 

Sweating a waterfall, Karl, nevertheless, pushed forward and through gritted teeth managed to realign their cabin - returning back on their perilous track.

As they slowly ascended the shaft, Ethan didn’t miss the fact that Cassandra was edging closer to him, with her outstretched hands all but grasping him; while eyeing the open hatch in the cabin’s ceiling… almost as if ready to leap out of it with him in tow in a bid to rescue the father, were Karl to lose control of their cage. The very notion that Cassandra appeared to be that concerned about his well-being was touching, especially since it was quite a bit out of character for the callous woman.

Thankfully, Cassandra was not required to display any particular heroics, as the elevator made all the way to the top floor in relative stability. Panting hard, Heisenberg proceeded to force the doors open, with Cassandra swift to assist her weary uncle; Dion and Ethan taking overwatch positions - pistols raised and ready to fire the moment the doors were pulled apart.

And a good thing they did that, since no sooner than the doors were wrenched apart, the gang was confronted by a trio of guards with itchy trigger fingers.

The opposing sides opened fire at the same time, though the spooked, and quite possibly under-trained guards merely went for the closest threat - Cassandra - with an expected outcome; while Dion and Ethan immediately picked a target with respect to each other’s current fields of fire and placed a single burst each, with pinpoint precision - right into their targets’ heads. Nothing justified the endless training drills with Chris quite as much as seeing two guards collapsing under their barrage of gunfire, yet even that paled in comparison to the savagery of Cassandra’s own move.

Roaring in righteous hatred as her expensive suit, the very same Chris himself complimented her in, was ruined, Cassandra rushed out to deliver a punch of hideous power with her right fist - right into the last guard’s face - not merely breaking his nose, but caving it in. In her typical sadistic fashion, not quite satisfied by the level of agony the doomed man experienced, the vicious middle sibling stomped the back of her foot on top of the guard’s own - with enough force to drive the sharp heel of her shoe right through both his boot and his flesh. Nobody present could judge the unfortunate security officer for letting out a piercing shriek of agony, yet it was also cut short soon enough, when the merciless brunette proceeded to bare her fangs and mutilate his throat in her next motion - eager to savor his vital fluid.

Following the monstrous woman out of the precarious elevator cabin, the rest swiftly flooded into the hallway, with Ethan not forgetting to pull Clive the clerk out of the doomed cabin - a second before Heisenberg finally stopped exerting his power upon it and allowing it to embark on its final journey, 103 floors down.

Seeing Ethan’s act of mercy, Cassandra’s amber orbs narrowed in disapproval, yet the vampire did not interrupt her grisly feeding to admonish the father - not that she would have time to do that, since a 5-man squad of heavily-armored guards was just turning the corner to the elevator hallway.

Unlike the prior Armacham guards the gang had encountered - which appeared to be little more than mall cops, with nothing but a light kevlar vest and a pistol to their name  - these security personnel clearly meant business. With heavier, full-body armor and protective helmets; armed with FN-P90 submachine guns, the five dark-clad troopers were swift in their attempt to put some hurt on the intruders.

Exposed to a combined rate of fire of 5000 5.7×28mm rounds per minute, unleashed in a relatively tight-hallway, the gang would have surely been torn apart in mere moments, if not for the Lord of Metal being on their side. The instant his keen eyes spotted the approaching guards, Heisenberg was quick in raising both of his arms in a motion that would likely seem as overly-theatrical to side observers who were not aware of the true extent of power that hid behind the scruffy man’s frame.

While Ethan could see nothing out of the ordinary with his human eyes, an invisible barrier of some kind must have been formed - consisting of nothing but magnetic force which was strong enough to stop every single low-energy projectile that raced to reach the gang. The magnetic shield held long enough until all five guards ceased fire - out of ammo and in need of a reload, again showcasing their poor coordination and lack of squad-based drills.

Seeing hundreds of intercepted bullets simply falling upon the floor as one - mere inches from their vulnerable bodies - Ethan was swift to recall that particular scene from the Matrix . Gaping, utterly awestruck, his mouth mumbled out his astonishment, while his hand brought his own gun up - eager to capitalize on this opportunity - not that he needed to. Clearly, Heisenberg aimed to deal with these men all by himself.

“Should I call you Neo now?”

Clearly, the guards were just as taken by this startling display of supernatural power as was Ethan, as their hands fumbled with their guns with particular clumsiness. Still, to their credit, all five men stood their ground as they attempted to reload their weaponry as swiftly as possible under such dazzling circumstances.

“Just Karl is fine.”

Smirking as he muttered his own name and with the guards’ reloading-imposed pause in offense, Heisenberg was free to reroute his unnatural powers from the defensive magnetic barrier to a more... deadly application. With one glance at a time.

The first guard didn’t get to as much as eject his spent clip as his own gun suddenly rotated around and rammed him right in his unprotected throat - hard enough to knock the man right on his ass. Crying out in pain, the man didn’t get a chance to get back up, as the sharp barrel of the weapon, pushed by unnatural force, continued on its course - burrowing right through skin and flesh, severing tendons and vital arteries, before finally stopping and letting the unfortunate soul to drown in his own blood.

The second guard had only time for a brief glance towards his compatriot before his own helmet - or more precisely, the metal parts inside of it - started to push on his head… The mounting pressure allowed the man to let out a brief scream of agony before the monstrous force crushed his skull like a grapefruit, leaving his head a deformed mess and showering his comrades in capillary blood.

The third guard stoically brought his reloaded submachine gun up - only for bullet casings under his own feet to suddenly assault the man in a relentless onslaught that soon saw the unprotected parts of his body penetrated in dozens of places - causing his critically-injured frame to collapse on the floor, destined to bleed out in minutes.

The forth guard cursed as the blood from his comrade apparently jammed his gun. In a surprisingly-swift gesture, the belligerent man grabbed, primed and hurled a flashbang grenade - only for it to stop in mid-air and then fly itself right into his open mouth. Apparently, the less-than-lethal device proved quite lethal when jammed down one’s throat, as the man’s head quite literally exploded - with viscera and brain bits raining all over the hallway akin to a rain of gore.

Seemingly the least competent of the bunch, the fifth guard was still fumbling with his gun when the flashbang exploded inches from his own head - likely deafening the man forever. Well, for however long he would live, as soon after the man fell down on the ground while clutching his ears, a large metal lamp detached from its place on the ceiling over the butchered squad. With a shower of electric sparks, the hefty appliance slammed into the guard’s back, producing a horrific cracking and squelching noise. The man didn’t get up.

“Are we still keeping count, dear niece?”

Letting her own snack fall to the floor - dead, Cassandra merely scowled at her uncle with her blood-soaked grimace.

At her telling silence, Karl’s smirk morphed into a full-blown grin, before the metal-manipulator turned his attention to other elevators - some of which were ascending right to their floor.

“I’ll take care of any more guests, hurry the fuck up!”

Bending and warping metal doors of every inbound elevator to the point where it would take a blowtorch to get through them, Heisenberg’s work was cut out of him. Nodding his head, Dion motioned towards the hallway from which the guards came in the first place. Thankfully, the 103rd floor was a relatively small one - originally just the observatory - now remodeled to contain little more than the hallway that led to psionic Relay itself and a small command center.

Stepping over the bloodied corpses and turning the corner, the trio of invaders beheld a serious, but expected obstacle - a large, bulkhead-like gate at the end of the hallway. These most formidable of pneumatic-driven, heavy-duty doors would likely hinder even the Lord of Metal for longer than the gang of intruders could afford, but they came prepared.

Leon’s hacker had provided them a full blueprint of the building before the mission, so they had an answer at the ready and Dion quickly set to work at assembling a small thermite-like explosive, which was previously concealed in a number of inconspicuous objects that were designed to defeat even a professionally-done security screening.

“Hurry up, soldier-boy!” egged him on Cassandra, as she gazed at her own watches. For all their power, even she was aware that they were on borrowed time here and that the building’s formidable security force would eventually overwhelm them, if they lingered. More than just humans protected the ATC HQ and Cassandra was not looking forward to meeting the other threat they were warned about. Not that she would ever admit so out-loud.

Fortunately, Dion was quick with his fingers and soon the high-intensity bomb was assembled and affixed upon the last obstacle. Taking cover behind some potted plants, Ethan and Cassandra heeded the redhead’s direction to “don’t look at it” but were still blinded by the hyper-intense exothermic reaction taking place. 

Short-lived, but extraordinarily hot, this particular type of thermite was soon able to burrow its way even through these heavy-duty doors - creating a tidy, a bit under a baseball-sized, hole.

Seeing the exothermic explosive dying down and recognizing the fact that it was her turn, Cassandra proceeded to briskly walk towards the obstacle before shapeshifting into her insect form and gaining access to the command room by trickling her whole swarm through the newfound opening. Ethan’s eyes widened in realization when he noted that not everything Cassandra wore made it through the small hole.

Hoping that there was indeed an override switch on the other side of the bulkhead, Dion and Ethan quickly took positions next to it and waited for the brunette to do her thing. Mercifully - there was - and soon the powerful gates screeched open, allowing them entrance, as well as an unforgettable sight of Cassandra in just her panties - as it was the only article of clothing that could easily fit through the hole.

“Eyes up front, you bastards.”

“Yes, ma’am!” quipped Dion in response to her menacing growl, even as the young man flushed bright red at seeing her admittedly incredible body. Muttering something akin to captain is one lucky bastard under his breath, Dion entered the command center while the woman swiftly got back into her suit; Ethan soon followed in, though the man was remarkably less taken by Cassandra’s beauty, as the bloodshed that occurred mere minutes ago took precedence in his mind. 

Quickly ascending the staircase that led to the 104th floor and entering the command center itself, Ethan was surprised to discover how vastly different the room appeared in comparison to the rest of the building. Trading that quaint but eye-pleasing 20th century look for something right out of some sci-fi movie, the peculiar scene forced Ethan to do a double take.

Three times as tall as a man in height, the cubic room at the very apex of the Empire State Building was confined by heavy-duty metal shutters from every side, with not a single ray of light from the outside world reaching in. Of course, the sight of the enclosed room at large paled in comparison to the enormous metal-gray sphere that occupied the majority of the command center all by itself. Perfectly smooth and with no visible features that would break its total uniformity, the enigmatic object was more alien than anything Ethan had seen in his life. Glancing at the floor, Ethan had to amend that previous thought about the orb’s absolute uniformity - a large number of cables were snaking out from its foundation, reaching into several pieces of advanced-looking machinery and large computer consoles, as well as into all four corners - going downwards, deeper into the building.

Near one such console, a man in a white lab-coat stood with his hands folded in a clear gesture of defiance, even while Dion was aiming his firearm right at him.

“Would you kindly open it up for my friend here?”

The middle-aged lab-coat merely scowled at the sickly-sweet voice and a charming smile of the redheaded intruder. 

“Or what? You can’t shoot me! I am a law-abiding and tax-paying citizen of the United fucking States of America! I know my fucking rights! Have you even read the Geneva Convention, you brain-dead Neanderthal!?”

“Never heard anything about that Geneva’s convention, but I recall dining on a girl who called herself Geneva, ten years ago or some such. Yummy.” Happily informed Cassandra, while swaggering into the command center as if she owned the place; fully dressed in her bullet-torn blazer and shirt, once again, thankfully. 

The scientist stared aghast at the slowly approaching vampire - his gaze rapidly flickering to and fro her bullet-stricken clothing with little blood on it and her snarling mouth - with plenty of blood around it. Clearly not wearing his lab coat for nothing, the man swiftly connected the dots and backed away - only to bump into the unyielding metal of the shutters.

Making no noise but the clicking of her heels upon the tiled floor, Cassandra was soon upon the slightly shorter man. To his unbridled horror, the brunette’s telltale insects started to detach from her skin and buzz around the pair, swiftly growing in number. Still flashing him that same insanity-filled grimace, the vampiric woman proceeded to nonchalantly tear off his badge, only to read it aloud in a voice that made even Ethan sweat.

“Benjamin Locke… now that’s a tasty-sounding name. Would you like to join dear old Geneva in my tummy?”

Hyperventilating and with bulging eyes, the man was clearly terrified out of his mind. Seemingly unable to speak, he simply gaped at the horrifying vampire who was playfully patting her own belly and the ravenous swarms of chaotically buzzing bugs around the both of them. His fear alone was not enough for the sadist, however and soon it gave way to an agonized expression on Ben’s face, as the flesh-eating insects started to feast upon his skin.

“Well? Unlock this thing or would you rather deal with my little friends ? Either case is fine by me, as they are just so… fucking ... hungry .”

Each syllable wore down on the man’s resolve until nothing was left. Snapping her bloodied teeth at him was finally enough to shake the scientist out of his panic-induced paralysis. With a frantic nod, the man turned around and rapidly started to press some buttons on a console next to him.

Ethan, observing the scene with morbid fascination, had to struggle to turn his gaze from the fearsome vampire and her hapless victim as the hissing sound coming from the giant sphere fought for his attention. Glancing at the enigmatic orb, the man was surprised to see a human-sized indentation revealing itself from the perfect uniformity of the mysterious device. The indentation soon proceeded to slide upwards from the inside - allowing entrance into the hollow sphere. Moreover, the sudden chill that rushed from the now-open object flooded the command center, forcing Cassandra to will her bugs to return to her flesh, as well as to shudder in obvious discomfort. Knowing about the Dimitrescu’ girls crippling vulnerability to cold, Ethan momentarily turned his attention from the orb and back to Cassandra.

“You alright, Cass?”

“Ugh… just pppeachy… but I and Ben will wait outside this fffreezer, if it's just the sssame to you.”

Roughly grabbing the scientist by the scruff of his neck, the chilled Dimitrescu proceeded to drag herself and the man back to the warmer 103rd floor.

“You can’t do this to me… I am a respected member of the international academic community…”

Naturally, Ben’s feeble protests were utterly ignored by the callous and distinctly un-academic brunette.

Now with just himself and Dion in the large room, the father returned his gaze back to the orb’s innards. While the sight of the internal surface of the sphere being fully covered by strange-looking machinery was noteworthy in its own right, the center of the object is what fully occupied Ethan’s attention. 

A peculiar, complex-looking, chair-like device dominated the interior of the orb, with a bald but otherwise normal-looking man who was seemingly affixed to it. Despite having his eerily-blue eyes wide open, it appeared that the man was completely unaware of what was going on around him. Not blinking or moving a single muscle, the man simply stared straight ahead, utterly ignoring every stimuli. Furthermore, the baldie was seemingly connected to that chair by a number of intrusive-looking contacts all along his spine. Was this the Replica Commander Eveline had spoken about?

Yes! This is it, daddy.

Eveline’s voice broke Ethan out of his shocked stupor. The father was swift to recall the plan, then - to infect this strange human male with Eveline’s fungal cells. A little detail was quick to stand up in his mind, however - they never discussed how exactly that infection would be achieved… would he need to cut himself up and force-feed this man?

Haha, silly daddy! Just come a bit closer to him and raise your hand up...

Deeply unnerved by everything that happened in the last ten minutes, the father, nevertheless, did as the disembodied voice in his head told him to. Carefully entering the sphere and cautiously approaching the commander, Ethan was not prepared for what followed.

The moment Ethan’s open palm was hovering over the strange male’s head, a tendril of inky-black mold pierced through his own skin - only to shoot out and do the same with the freak’s forehead - effortlessly breaking through his skin, swiftly burrowing through the skull and reaching the very brain while splattering the father with blood and bone bits.

Ethan had to struggle to suppress a scream of both agony and disgust, as that tentacle-like thing coming out from his own goddamn hand started to contract and expand rapidly, as if pumping some kind of nasty stuff directly into the bald man’s brain. The commander shuddered in his seat, yet showed no signs of being aware of what was happening, once again.

Yeah, sorry for not warning about that… better to ask for forgiveness than permission, in cases like this!

“Jesus fucking Christ!”

Dion’s shocked statement reflected Ethan’s own unvoiced thoughts perfectly, yet the father found his body unresponsive as this horrific process continued. Could Ethan even consider himself a human at all after seeing something like this? Was his own body no less monstrous than Cassandra’s?

Without warning, the tendril performed one last, particularly powerful contraction, before suddenly growing stiff and pale - reminding Ethan of all the times he had defeated some kind of mold-based life-form. And just like he expected, the brittle tentacle soon crystallized completely, before shattering to tiny pieces - leaving nothing but a small hole in the palm of his hand and the commander’s forehead.

“What the fuck…” Gazing at his own hand with a mix of astonishment and distress, Ethan never felt quite as much out of his depth as today. A middling system engineer six years ago, today he was infiltrating the heart of one of the most influential weapon-makers, while using his own mutated body as a weapon to infect some kind of a human computer.

Shaking off the unwelcome revelation of his own monstrous nature, the father returned his gaze back to the once again unmoving body of the commander that was affixed to the weird neural chair. Now it was up to Eveline to see their insane plan through… Ethan’s job here was done. 

“Shit! Ethan, I think we’ve got some problems here!” came Dion’s frantic voice from outside the sphere.

 

Or was it?

Chapter 40: The War on Bioterror, Part II

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Licking the hot blood of the tips of his fingers, Paxton Fettel smiled. For the first time in many years it was not a mocking leer or a sadistic grimace, but a genuine smile of one who had achieved something previously thought as unreachable. Freedom.

When he had realized that it was the E-001 that infected his host in France and thwarted his attempt to dispose of Redfield’s gang of misfits, the weight of that horrific blunder was almost crushing. 

Yet… with chaos comes opportunity and soon enough Fettel had realized that he could turn everything to his advantage. Report Redfield and his allies as slain and exploit their next move for his own benefit. Intimidate Sebastian into enlisting the Bloodfang’s help. Convince Mia Winters to aid him by dangling the fate of her precious daughter in her face. Gamble on Eveline’s predictable desire to use his plan as her way to get back at her tormentors. Finally, employ the little trophy he had kept all these years, ever since that Lanshiang debacle.

With chaos abound, so was the opportunity, and if he played his cards right, Fettel stood a decent chance at obliterating all of his foes, past and present, in one fell swoop.

And so Paxton Fettel did just that. With all pieces in place, he was - after all these years - free to make his own move and vanquish the enemy queen - finally freeing himself from the shackles that bind him for so long.

Nevertheless, Paxton knew that his job was far from done. He would not rest until he cleared the board of all the pieces that opposed him. And he knew just the tool that would get the task done. Which dear Mia will be all too eager to provide for him.

Giving the telepathic command to his two loyal bodyguards to follow him, Paxton proceeded to search for a little button underneath the desk of his slain oppressor. Finding it in short order, the bloodied man pressed on it, revealing a hidden passage that would lead him all the way to his next destination.


***

 

Chris Redfield had fought bioterrorism in all of its gruesome shapes since 1998 - before that particular term was even invented, in fact. With 25 years of strife behind him, the hardened veteran saw all the terrible faces that particular phenomena had to show. And while most aspects changed over the years - such as the weapon’s delivery methods, contagion vectors, as well as the resulting B.O.W.s composition, numbers, intelligence - one thing remained an immutable constant.

As he would get closer and closer to the source of any particular outbreak, so would the mutated critters that stood in his way get progressively nastier and meaner, with a truly monstrous abomination awaiting at the end.

That one final monster itself could take a great deal of many different shapes; and rise up from several different origins. It could be just some particularly nasty B.O.W., cooked up in some lab. It could be an unexpected, hyper-enduring mutation - pushed far beyond its projected limits. Finally, it could be the person behind the outbreak themselves - forced to inject an unstable virus into their own body, whether out of desperation or delusions of godhood.

But regardless of the vast variations its powers, size and indeed, even origins could take, one thing always remained the same - the fact of its presence - barring the way before the end of a mission or a campaign. For 25 long years, it was the constant Captain Redfield learned to expect and eventually - anticipate. That one last extra-tough foe that stood between himself and a well-deserved break. This was one immutable constant in a sea of change that was the War on Bioterror.

This is why today, Chris Redfield - armed to the teeth with enough firepower to bring down a dozen tyrants, stood with his jaw hanging wide open and an uncomprehending gaze leveled against the unmoving corpse of his latest nemesis - the U.N. Secretary-General - the one person responsible for all this mess he had found himself in. 

Likewise, Vesper Benedict stared back at the captain from her expensive armchair with an expression of pure incredulity etched into her dead face. The one woman who had successfully played the role of a puppet master for the entire world; the one woman who had orchestrated the rise of international mega-conglomerates such as the Connections and Armacham Technology Corporation; the one woman who attempted to take her shot at an actual world domination for herself and her cabal - was slain right in her luxurious office, deep inside the U.N. Headquarters in New York.

Judging by her frozen features, she had never expected her end to come from the one who had ended her - whoever she or he was. What was even more curious was the fact that her body was still warm to the touch - likely the woman was murdered mere minutes ago, with no culprit in sight, amazingly. No witnesses, nothing on the security cameras. Whoever the mysterious assassin was, they managed to kill Vesper and her six cronies and elude Chris’ own men, who had the entire building surrounded.

The captain was not a particularly big fan of mysteries, yet he could do nothing but stare at the deceased husk of his nemesis. Even in her death, the man had to admit that for a woman in her fifties she possessed a striking beauty that would leave women half her age green with envy. A shame that her throat was ripped out as if a wild beast was set upon her.

Still, as the shock from the fact that the final monster of today was slain before he had even had a shot at her wore off, Chris felt a certain - most definitely unhealthy - disappointment, as if someone cheated him of his well-deserved kill. Then again, a measure of relief was there as well - as even the hardened veteran was not truly looking forward to battling some enormous acid-spitting mutant once more. Maybe this was his gift for the silver anniversary of battling bioterrorism - a bloodless victory, for once.

Nobody had contested their team as they demanded entrance into the U.N. HQ - not with several platoons of U.S. Marines backing them up. All the human guards had immediately yielded to the joint B.S.A.A. and U.S. government authority, with the rest of the security measures shut down and even Replica Peacekeeper units standing down.

And now, deep inside the HQ in a restricted area that was normally open only to the SecGen and her closest cronies, nothing but death was there to greet the captain. The manipulative bitch that so loved to pull at the strings from behind the curtain, as well as her cohorts were all murdered in cold-blood - without alerting the rest of the building.

“Well, shit. I guess I can throw away that little questionnaire Hunnigan came up with…” mumbled out Leon, similarly dumbstruck at this bedazzling turn of events. Shaking off his own shock, Chris simply shrugged his shoulders, before reaching for a smoke. As far as the large captain himself was concerned, that bitch had to die absolutely no matter what, but something told him that he was not going to be shaking hands with her murderer.

“I am not sure exactly who we should be thanking for a job well done, but not the worst outcome, all in all. Let’s hope that it will go as smoothly for the Bravo Team, as well as for Charlie and Delta.” muttered Chris, before taking a drag from his cigarette.

Even if their primary target was already dead, Ethan’s team was still unaccounted for. They should’ve already reached the top floor of the Empire State Building and hacked the Relay, but so far there were no communications from them.

Moreover, Charlie and Delta teams - which included Bela and Daniela, respectively, were in the process of apprehending the American and Russian delegations, which should be already infected by the E-002s at this point - according to the deceased defector. If they were lucky, not only the diplomats themselves could be safely incapacitated and cured, but the Connection’s handlers arrested and B.O.W.s themselves neutralized… in a hopefully non-lethal manner. They were just fucking kids, after all… much like Eveline herself once was.

Assembling uncorrupt B.S.S.A. personnel, gaining the president’s confidence and going through a meticulous day of planning and hand-picking loyal agents led them all for this one final multi-pronged but simultaneous confrontation which would hopefully see this whole conflict resolved. But now, with his own foe dismantled just like that, Chris couldn’t help but wonder if all they did was in accordance with someone else’s plan…

Who could pull on a puppet-master’s strings?

“Captain, you’d want to take a look at this…”

Lieutenant Mark’s solemn voice broke Chris out of his musings. Chris knew the man for quite a few years - Mark Turner was a man of few words but his strategic mind was a credit to B.S.A.A. North America branch. With a no-nonsense attitude and unflinching character, the fact that he spoke with such cautious intensity implied that whatever happened was quite serious...

 

***

 

“Руки убрал, блядь! Ах ты сука, да ты знаешь кто мой зять!? Я тя мразь запомню… “

Daniela didn’t speak Russian, but she was fairly certain that the bald, bespectacled Russian diplomat was not too pleased about being manhandled so roughly as a B.S.A.A. specialist forcibly took the skin samples with his scanning device.

The rest of the Russian delegation was no less verbally-combative, yet nobody actually physically resisted the B.S.A.A. specialists, not when they were supported by several armed FBI agents and fully equipped U.S. Marines.

Daniela herself was not exactly sure what her job was and truth to be told, she did feel a little anxious from being surrounded by so many unfamiliar faces. Yet her two-piece gray suit was incredibly lovely and the redhead was sure about one thing. She would be keeping it. A terribly out of place bright yellow tie was her own last-minute addition to her outfit and while the majority of those who were present here gazed at it in slight befuddlement, Daniela just knew that it worked perfectly on her. Anyone who told her otherwise would not be getting her home-baked cookies after this mission was done.

Admiring herself in a mirror, Daniela mentally commended her impeccable fashion sense while also secretly hoping for someone else to verbally praise her.

“Moderate levels of Type-XR mold infection…” mouthed a B.S.A.A. specialist as he inspected the result that was displayed on his device - earning himself a glare from the Dimitrescu daughter. That mumbo-jumbo did not sound like praise to her!

Another B.S.A.A. agent spoke out next - a young woman with pink hair tied in a bun - Daniela liked that one, she sure knew her fashion! “Slight-to-moderate here - doesn’t seem like the infection is complete… the E-002 could still be around.”

The Russian Permanent Mission to the U.N. in New York was a rather large building, with lots of rooms and offices. It would be a pain in the ass to search it all, floor by floor, and now Daniela was not so sure that volunteering for this operation was such a smart thought on her part. Bela had said that these E-002 could be dangerous, and the Dimitrescu daughters had a natural resistance to its influence - therefore making them the perfect counter if the E-002 would prove hostile. Bela had then proceeded to volunteer to assist the team that would take the U.S. delegation into custody, with Daniela parroting her older sister.

And that’s how I got this boring gig while Cassi gets to spend some quality time with Ethan, Dion and Uncle… while doing fun spy stuff! Urgh!

Bemoaning her boring predicament, Daniela huffed in indignity, before being approached by some FBI agent. The cleanly-shaven and athletic-looking man was a cutie, there was no doubt about that, making the redhead cheeks tint pink once she had noticed that he was checking her out, as well.

Maybe it's time to give this relationship thing another go… I will never forget Elian, but I am better now. Stronger. In control of myself. Perhaps I can finally leave my horrible past behind? For real, this time?

Unfortunately, the cute agent didn’t get a chance to offer her a well-deserved compliment, as the squad’s communication officer suddenly yelled out, “We’ve got visual confirmation on E-002 and its handler - Yuki Momochi! Fifth floor!”

That was Daniela's part. To find that poor kid that was turned into an E-002 Bio-Organic Weapon and neutralize it in a non-lethal manner. While normal humans were vulnerable to its mold-based infection abilities, the Dimitrescu daughter had no such weaknesses. If she could not earn her praise through good looks alone, she would do so through valorous deeds! 

Cassi and Bela ain’t the only badasses in the family! I am a badass, too!

Badass .” whispered under her own breath the redhead, hyping herself up. The agent next to her glanced at her with a weirded-out expression, but before he could say anything, all hell broke loose.

“Убить их всех!” roared out the bald Russian diplomat before headbutting the B.S.A.A. specialist with an unexpected ferocity, causing the shorter man to fall right on his rear, with stars in his eyes.

“Shit! The E-2 took control! Take em’ down gently!” cried out the pinkette, before having another diplomat tackle her to the floor.

Several other delegates that were previously standing around with grumpy expressions suddenly leapt into action, grabbing every item that could serve as a weapon and assaulting the closest operative. The cute agent next to Daniela got treated to a table lamp being hurled right into his face, while Daniela herself got smacked across the face by a baseball bat of all things.

“Ouch!”

Taking a step back and yelping in pain, the redhead immediately sensed the beast inside of her rearing its fangs. It wanted out - to rip and tear this offending mortal. As well as everybody else in its immediate vicinity.

It's fine. I’ll handle it myself.

With a growl, the monster retreated back in - placated, for now.

With a growl of her own, Daniela easily caught the next swing of the bat, before tearing it from the hands of its owner and breaking it across her knee. A normal human would be forced to do a double take upon seeing a slender girl like her performing such a feat of strength, yet the mind-controlled zombie instead attempted to claw at her eyes, while drooling from his open mouth. 

A knee to the zombie’s groin - with Daniela’s impressive strength behind the blow - should’ve caused the man to collapse in pain, yet apparently the mold infection that took over his body also turned off the pain receptors, since the diplomat merely grunted in annoyance, before punching the redhead right into her mouth.

“Gah! Alright, that’s enough out of you!”

Actually annoyed now, the youngest Dimitrescu proceeded to grab the zombified man by his expensive shirt and with a grunt of effort, hurled him right into a nearby wardrobe. The sound of splintering wood that followed was lost in the chaos of the ongoing melee, as the rest of the agents attempted to subdue the zombified diplomats without actually killing them. The FBI agent took a pause from nursing his bruised head to send an appreciative wince her way, clearly impressed with the way Daniela dispatched the diplomat. Blushing slightly, the vampiric girl couldn’t help her erratic mind and wondered whether the cutie liked his women stronger than himself.

A small vase smashing into the wall next to her head was enough to break the redhead out of her flirty musings. She had a job to do, after all.

Giving the cutie agent a playful wink, Daniela proceeded to transform her lower body into its swarm form. While she could’ve lent her formidable strength in incapacitating the mind-controlled delegation, her true target was on the fifth floor - so that’s where she was going next, as she fluttered out of the open window.

Directing her chimaeric body upwards, Daniela stopped to hover on the fifth-floor level, while frantically gazing through windows to find her target. She didn’t need to look too hard, however, as the tell-tale sound of automatic gunfire - coming from her right - was enough to provide all the direction she needed. 

Using her arms to crash through the glass window, Daniela was inside the building once more and her soon-to-be solid feet touched the floor moments later. Breaking into a sprint, the vampiric progeny powered through the hallway and approached the large office where the commotion was taking place.

A single Marine was firing his M4 carbine chaotically while trying to stumble backwards - an inky black tentacle piercing him right through his unprotected calf. The man didn’t get far, as whatever coursed through the oily tendril pumped right into his bloodstream, forcing the Marine to drop at the floor and grunt in agony. 

Not thinking twice, Daniela swiftly unslung her sickle from its place at her waist and rushed to slash at the disgusting tentacle - cutting it off and causing most of it to retract back to its source, with the rest quickly crystallizing and crumbling to pieces.

Pausing for a second to glance at the Marine, who now appeared to be unconscious, Daniela was prepared to proceed forward, but a couple of fully-equipped B.S.A.A. Exterminators stomping their way inside the office caused her to firmly turn around and extend one palm up in a clear ‘stop’ motion. These men in fully enclosed protective suits and gas masks; armed with heavy flamethrowers, were the very definition of the organization’s lethal approach. Now that the E-002 has proven to be hostile and dangerous, Daniela was the poor kid’s last chance for survival.

“Let me handle this, please!”

At her earnest voice, the two bulky men traded glances, before the left one gave her a nod.

“Good luck, ma’am.”

The soldier’s voice, coming through his helmet, was more mechanical than anything, yet Daniela still felt both reassured and surprised. Nobody had ever called her that way and moreover - she never expected these strange men to wish her luck. She had lived her whole existence with the notion that humanity at large wanted to do nothing but exterminate her… and now she was working with them… against her own kind.

Adjusting her yellow tie, the redhead burst into motion, quickly making her way across the large office space. A B.S.A.A. specialist crawled away from her goal - a similar tendril impaling the man right through his shoulder. Not even stopping, Daniela merely slashed her sickle across the vicious tendril, cutting it off.

The reaction to her presence was instantaneous and soon a different tendril rushed out to meet her, snaking right around a corner in an attempt to impale her leg - only to pass right through the buzzing swarm that took the place of her limb in a blink of an eye. Giggling with mirth, Daniela returned the favor by slashing the tentacle, only for several more to appear.

Informed in advance that an E-002 prototype could generate such tendrils in excess of its own body mass, Daniela decided not to fight her way through the forest of tentacles, but simply swarm through. Assuming her partial insect form, the redhead swiftly fluttered through, even as tentacles started to hurl random office items at her in a fruitless bid to slow her down.

In mere seconds, she had reached her goal - the E-002 and its handler, standing next to a locked entrance to a service stairwell of some kind, as well as several more incapacitated agents lying around.

The handler was a youthful and strikingly beautiful woman of an Asian descent, while the E-002 Bio-Organic Weapon turned out to be a young girl - no older than ten - of Caucasian descent, making Daniela gulp at the thought of fighting a child. Well, as much of a child that thing could be, considering that at least eight inky tendrils were aggressively protruding from her small body - hovering over the girl akin to a pack of menacing snakes. Still, the redhead had to try diplomacy first, so she yelled out, “Just surrender! The others will not hesitate to put both of you down!”

Ignoring Daniela and fumbling with the service stairway door, the Asian woman spared Daniela only a fleeting glance before shouting at the young girl, “Don’t just stand there, Sarah! Defend me! Kill her!”

The tiny girl gazed at Daniela with pity in her large blue eyes, as if she didn’t really want to hurt her, yet whispered out a simple, “Yes, mama…” before attacking with all of her tendrils simultaneously.

While dodging a single such tendril was a child’s play for Daniela, the same could not be said about eight of them at once. Moreover, for whatever reason, her own unnatural body’s instinct to disperse on contact with a threatening object was not activating from these vicious tendrils and the very first barrage of blows saw Daniela dodge four of them, cut down one more - only to be struck by three - into her left calf, right thigh and lower abdomen. One blessing was that the Dimitrescu daughter was immune to the mold infection itself - unless digested, so the tentacles were limited to inflicting raw physical damage upon her frame.

Hissing in pain, Daniela pulled out her dagger and letting out a feral scream of rage started to slash her way through the forest of tentacles. More tendrils came to meet her mid-way, carving up her flesh and smashing her flies, yet Daniela found a shocking amount of strength surging out from her core, powering her limbs and allowing her to ignore the pain.

Cleaving through several more tendrils, Daniela was finally within melee range of the girl. One swing of her sickle and she could’ve easily beheaded the mutated child and end the threat. But Daniela was done with murdering innocents. Never again. Instead of going for a practical solution, the redhead let loose a desperate plea.

“Just stop it, Sarah! I want to help you!” 

The girl hesitated for a second and that was all Daniela needed. Dropping her sickle, the vampire reached for a shock collar that was attached to the left side of her waist and in a blink of an eye had it snapped closed over the mutated girl’s neck.

As the paralyzing current from the collar spread out across her tiny body, Sarah screamed in pain and soon collapsed in a heap, making a pang of guilt run throughout Daniela’s own heart. She hated to subject this poor child to such agony, especially since seemingly not so long ago she herself was incapacitated by electricity. But she did it for Sarah’s own good. It was better than the alternative.

Several bullets wheezed through Daniela’s head, interrupting her musings and momentarily stunning her - until her brain reformed.

“I am never going back to prison!”

The handler’s piercing shriek made the redhead growl in rage. What kind of a monster would turn a little girl into such a terrifying weapon, condemning her to a life of death and misery - as someone’s tool, no less? Chris was right - prison was too good a fate for such filth… 

Ignoring the pistol bullets that pierced through her intangible body, Daniela slowly walked right towards that callous woman, while muttering something that put mortal fear on her beautiful face.

“Don’t worry - you won’t.”

The handler was quick to realize Daniela’s deadly intentions, if her suddenly timid frame that was pushing hard against the unyielding door was any indication. The pistol cluttered to the floor, empty and forgotten.

“Wait, d…”

She didn’t get to finish her plea, as Daniela’s sharp fangs were soon tearing right through her jugular, spilling the vital fluid freely and cutting any cries for mercy short.

Consumed by hatred, Daniela did not let the body drop until she had drained the majority of its blood - ensuring death. The process likely took several minutes, even though it was just a blink of an eye for the vengeful redhead. These people had attacked them; kidnapped their mother - only to turn innocents girls and boys into weapons of terror. They deserved no mercy. Moreover, for Daniela herself, this was almost cathartic - once a helpless girl who had allowed her mama to get abducted, she was now an instrument of vengeance and justice.

Satisfied with her grim feast, Daniela allowed the exsanguinated corpse to tumble to the floor. Turning away from it, the youngest Dimitrescu was immediately confronted by several pairs of terrified eyes which beheld her blood-soaked visage. Monster - they screamed at her. Still, none of the assembled soldiers and agents decided to interfere, either out of fear or out of comprehension of the righteousness of Daniela’s bloody deed.

“Damn...” Glancing down at her own suit, once pristine in its gray colors, Daniela saw it colored dark red from all the blood that had spilled on it; black splotches of her own blood marred her pants. Even her beautiful tie was now crimson. Still… It was all worth it. 

Surrounded by unheeded murmurs, Daniela picked up the incapacitated Bio-Organic Weapon that was named Sarah and proceeded to push her way through the crowd of B.S.A.A. soldiers, FBI agents and Marines alike - determined to get this innocent child to safety. Cradling the girl close to her chest, Daniela would be damned if she’d allow any more harm to befall this precious little thing.

Leaving the building and getting into a B.S.A.A. vehicle, Daniela was driven on their way back to their own HQ - back to her mother and people who could hopefully help this poor child. 

A young woman in B.S.A.A. uniform immediately took her place next to the redhead and started applying first aid gel to her numerous injuries. With her task done and her wounds tended to, Daniela let out a relieved sigh and a “thank you” of gratitude. After a job well-done, the blood-soaked Dimitrescu gave the building behind her one last glance while having only one personal regret.

Pity I never asked that cutie agent his name...

Still, now that she was out of there and having little control of the future, the youngest vampiric sibling couldn’t help but think about the other teams.

At least I got the job done… I hope it went just as smoothly for everyone else. Cassi, Belli, Ethie, Uncle and even Chris! Be safe, please!

Consumed with worry for her friends and family, the bloodied redhead tenderly caressed the girl in her arms.

“What the fuck…”

The B.S.A.A. driver’s panicked voice was enough to bring Daniela out of her pondering about the future. Something was wrong.



***

 

It would take a considerably acute mind to be able to make a split-second decision to fake one’s death, especially during the chaotic conditions imposed by an unexpected ambush.

Fortunately, Bela Dimitrescu possessed exactly such a mind and therefore was able to immediately assess the fight her group had gotten into as unwinnable. Even as her human comrades were falling all around her - cut down by overlapped zones of gunfire that were clearly prepared in advance - Bela realized that she only had two valid options.

The first one was to assume her swarm shape and flee to safety. The second option was to fake her own demise by collapsing to the floor alongside the rest of her human comrades - in a bid to learn the identity of her assailants… and perhaps lay a nasty surprise of her own for them.

And so, with an actress-like skill, Bela tumbled to the floor once a number of bullets went through her intangible shape, only hoping that her attackers would not perceive the lack of actual injuries on her body in all the chaos.

Laying still, the oldest Dimitrescu sibling had to fight against her better instincts as her human allies perished all around her. Cries of agony and screams of the dying completed the morbid cacophony of piercing shrieks of bullets and ricochets, as well as weapon discharges themselves. She knew well that she could do nothing to turn the tides around, despite her unnatural powers - the ambush was simply too meticulously executed, with both positional and numerical advantage for the opposing side - leaving no chance of survival for the mixed group of U.S. Marines, FBI agents and B.S.A.A. operatives that assaulted the U.S. Mission to the United Nations - expecting to meet a number of diplomats and an E-002, and not an army of well-armed enemy soldiers.

Letting out a single tear of grief for her newest human compatriots that she had volunteered to assist, Bela just lay on her belly and her face kept down... waiting.

It took only around ten seconds for the gunfire to die down completely, with all of the Anti-Connections coalition men and women cut down. While the hostile troopers were clearly well equipped and trained, Bela wondered just who exactly were these people and how did they know to expect them here. Did someone betray them, again ?

Not completely satisfied with being blind to her surroundings, Bela detached a single keen-eyed fly from her body, allowing her to observe the area, while still playing a corpse. Unfortunately, the vision that was granted by a single insect was a poor substitute for her human pupils - as it lacked both focus and range - forcing Bela to direct it to approach a single enemy combatant, that was but a blurry shape to it until it got close.

The hostile trooper was armed with an assault rifle, but what was interesting was a full kit of NBC gear equipped on him - gas-mask included. Bela was no human soldier, but she knew enough to figure out that such burdening equipment was not deployed for no reason. Her dark blood chilled in her veins as she considered the possibilities these men might have for equipping such encumbering suits.

Before she could ponder on that more however, several shots in her immediate vicinity were taken - likely executing any wounded combatants from her side that showed movement - almost making Bela herself lurch from her spot. Thankfully, her composure won over and the blonde woman did not budge an inch.

The cruel, gas-mask muffled laughter that followed the callous executions implied that the hostile troopers were either some kind of Black Ops unit or a mercenary outfit - most professional soldiers did not revel in wanton slaughter, as far as she knew.

After a couple of more seconds of making sure nobody else but them moved, the soldiers started exchanging brief communications with each other, with Bela listening in carefully.

“All clear inside.”

“Good.”

“This one looks like the FBI agent in charge - carry him upstairs.”

“Yes, sir!”

A couple of heavy combat boots stomped next to Bela’s head, before the unmistakable sound of a heavy object being dragged across the floor implied that the soldiers did as told. Bela had no idea what they wanted to do with the deceased Special Agent-in-Charge Grant Howard - the man in charge of the Charlie team, so she simply dismissed that line of thought and focused on further chatter.

“Cops are gathering outside.”

“Irrelevant. Units A, B and C - proceed with the second stage.”

“Roger that!”

“Double check your masks - viral bombs are a go in T-minus sixty.”

Viral bombs!? Shit!

“VIPs are heading down in four minutes. Cars ready?”

“Affirmative.”

VIPs? Here? Could be either Mia or that Yuki woman...

Considering her next move carefully, Bela kept to her spot while chatter that was uninteresting to her ensured. Soon after however, the whole area started to get enveloped in a thin, bluish mist, causing the blonde woman’s heart to skip a beat in fright. Rationally thinking, Bela considered the likelihood of her being susceptible to a man-made virus to be low, yet she was afraid, nevertheless. Still, the chance to intercept these so-called VIPs was a tempting treat, so the woman kept still, even as the potentially-deadly mist filled her lungs.

Before the VIPs could show up, the sound of police sirens started to come from the outside, followed by an officer with a megaphone shouting the typical demands.

“You’re surrounded! Come out with your hands up!”

Wasn’t surprising that a massacre of this scale taking place in the middle of New York drew police attention, as the U.S. Mission to the United Nations was just across the U.N. 's headquarters themselves. Chris’ team was likely finishing their own mission right about now and would soon come to avenge the butchered Charlie team. Would they walk right into this viral mist? 

I have to warn them! Bela’s first thought was quickly contradicted by the second, however. No… Chris is a professional. He will surely not be caught off-guard by something like this. And these soldiers seem awfully sure about their capacity to escort these VIPs outta here… I may be the only one in position to intercept them… as long as I preserve my element of surprise, that is. But wait… perhaps Evie could help?

Evie? Eveline?

...

The ghostly girl did not respond. Bela was not that familiar with this particular communication ability, just yet, so she could not tell whether Eveline was occupied elsewhere or simply chose to ignore her call. Regardless, the result was the same - Bela was on her own.

The next two minutes tested Bela’s composure to its limit, yet she stuck to her pose, not budging an inch. After that, however, her efforts were rewarded, as her keen-eyed fly detected a large number of hostile combatants escorting three people. Bug-vision was not enough to allow her to clearly perceive facial features, yet the shapes were recognizable. 

A small one - likely a child - very possibly the E-002 she had volunteered to capture.

A larger one - but still not as big as the majority of soldiers around - possibly a woman - Mia or Yuki, perhaps? 

Finally, the biggest shape - a tall male, no doubt. Could be anyone, yet Bela felt uneasy from watching this person - even through her blurry bug-eyes. Something about him was… wrong . Was it blood that was smeared across his mouth - it was hard to tell through the fly’s visual receptors, yet it seemed that way - as if this person was a twisted reflection of a Dimitrescu daughter after a feeding...

While Bela wanted to do nothing but to spring up right away, she knew that she would likely be no match against the twenty-something soldiers, in addition to this dangerous E-002 child and the unnerving male. She had to bide her time, yet again. But that didn’t mean she would just let them walk into the parking lot by themselves - her inconspicuous fly slowly made its way to the woman, before perching in the hems of her shirt - out of sight, but not out of Bela’s mind. Focusing her own senses on what the little fly heard, the blonde daughter could decipher the words the male spoke to the female, as they made their way to the underground parking lot.

“Your daughter will surely appreciate all the sacrifices you’ve made for her.”

There was just a hint of mockery in his voice - which was unfamiliar to Bela. 

“She will hate me for what I have done. But I don’t care. At least she will be alive to hate me. That’s all that matters, in the end.”

Bela had only heard this voice once in her life, but that was enough to forever etch it in her memory. Mia Winters. Ethan’s wife, who had led abominable experiments on Bela’s own mother. Unforgivable.

“Ah, the bonds of a mother and her child. I know them well, believe it or not. It is not so easy to break them. Not easy at all…”

The previous mocking tint was exchanged for something that almost resembled respect in the man’s voice. The trio and their escort soon descended down the stairways that likely led to the underground parking lot, but Bela could still hear their discussion in the back of her mind, though it was harder to discern individual words with the increasing distance between her fly and the rest of her body.

I must thank you, Mia. Seeing the expression of shock on that bitch’s face when I tore her throat out… You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for that priceless moment. And you made it all possible.

I still can’t believe that she used just that neck-implanted bomb to keep someone like you on a leash… seems a little light.

Mia’s surprised observation was followed by the man’s cruel laughter, as well as an explanation.

I’ll take that as a compliment. But you’re right - that was just the secondary measure. But we have to thank your dear daughter - Eveline, for taking care of the primary one.

Eveline is not my fucking daughter… and what the hell do you mean by that?

Oh, that little girl turned out to be more resourceful than I anticipated… but a little mental suggestion and off she goes to hack ESB’s psionic Relay - buying me all the time I need. I believe that your husband is fighting for his life, even as we speak - up there.

Ethan is in trouble!?

Bela felt like she had wasted enough time upon hearing that last part. Detaching a single more fly from her body, she saw that only three soldiers were left in the building’s lobby, with the rest of them having followed the VIPs to the escape vehicles.

Three is a joke.

Before she could act, however, a single one approached Bela’s body and loudly noted, “Damn, this one looks fucking hot. Let’s grab this bitch for the road, huh?”

“She is dead, Brooke. As we will be, if we stick around for much longer.”

“That’s the way he likes ‘em, Taylor.”

“Jesus, what a fucking degenerate. Let’s get the fuck out of here!”

Bela has finally had enough. As this Brooke person came around and grabbed her by the ankles - clearly intending to drag her ‘body’ along in defiance of his compatriot’s wishes - the blonde vampire sprung to life.

Showcasing incredible athletic grace, Bela swiftly rotated herself 180 degrees and with a lightning-fast maneuver had her feet locked behind the man’s neck. Before he could even register the imminent danger he was in, the blonde vampire - with the help of her powerful arm and leg muscles - launched herself up to perch on the man’s shoulders; with his head stuck firmly in between her thighs. Normally, only Ethan was privy to having his face so close to her crotch, yet for today, she made an exception - if only for a second. For a second was all it took for Bela to have her thighs jerking counter-clockwise with one thrusting forward and another backward - with more than enough force to produce that normally unpleasant snapping noise - which today sounded akin to music to Bela’s ears.

Not waiting for Brooke’s rapidly fading body to drop to the floor, Bela swiftly untangled her legs from his neck - only to use his torso as a platform from which she leapt at the second man. Taylor had a mere moment to tumble with his gun, as he stared at the rapidly approaching vampire. Unable to dodge, he was soon treated to a breath-stealing tackle that saw them both tumble to the ground. 

As swift with her recovery as she was with her acrobatics, Bela was up in a heartbeat, not forgetting to tear Taylor’s gas mask off - producing instantaneous results. The bluish mist invading his lungs was clearly not something that was particularly conducive to human health, as the man immediately started to choke while his eyes bulged out. Leaving the trooper to breathe in the vapors of his labor, the blonde Dimitrescu reached for her dagger - only to fling it with pinpoint accuracy - right into the last soldier’s forehead.

And just like that, three well-trained men were slain in mere moments, without firing a shot. Despite violence never really being her preferred method of conflict-resolution, Bela couldn’t help but deliver herself a mental pat on the back for her performance in this skirmish. Even Cassandra would’ve been proud, were she present to witness it.

Now apparently the last living thing in the lobby, Bela was keenly aware of the deathly silence that fell over the building -  deafening in its contrast to the previous sounds of mayhem. No noise came from outside the building, implying that the assembled police had either retreated or suffered a grim fate once the bluish mist had reached them.

Still, there was no time to either rest on her laurels or ponder upon the human police’s unenviable predicament, so Bela swiftly made her way to tail the VIPs, while reaching for her radio. 

“Ethan, Chris?” Nothing but static. “Anyone? Shit!” The enemy troopers likely brought in a communication jammer of some kind, once again confirming the notion that Bela was in it by herself. No outside assistance was coming, as far as she knew. Moreover, as much as she worried about Ethan, she could do nothing to aid him, so Bela was forced to trust her lover to do his part, while she would do hers. Who knew where Mia, the mysterious male and the E-002 child were headed? She could not just allow them to leave.

Using her swarm shape to leap down the stairway, Bela was once again in proximity to her beacon-fly. Just in time for her to hear something that sent a shiver of both fright and hatred down her spine.

What do you want Dimitrescu for?

Even depleted, her shell possesses incredible regenerative properties. Not that you should care about any of that. You will get your daughter back. Just like we agreed.

Just like we agreed…

They were headed for the coalition’s headquarters, where Rosie and Alcina were located!? How could they even know about its location? Chris had assured everyone that every single person was hand-picked for this operation for their loyalty.

More importantly, while Mia apparently just wanted her daughter back, this enigmatic male wanted Bela’s mother!?

Breaking into a sprint, Bela had nothing but murder on her mind.

Over my dead body, you bastard.

Notes:

I thought it would be fitting to have Bela and Daniela, as being more empathetic sisters, volunteer to attempt to capture kids turned bioweapons alive. Wonder if Alcina would be receptive to the idea of having more grandchildren, though? :D

Elian is a sweetheart Daniela met (and murdered) during her two years in Cuba.

Gotta admit, after writing Cassandra as the most badass sister, its quite refreshing to portray both Bela and Daniela as kicking some ass of their own. Hopefully their respective scenes were enjoyable to read :)

Thanks for reading and stay safe out there!

Chapter 41: The Cost of Victory

Summary:

Both Ethan's and Eveline's fragments of this chapter start roughly at the same time, though Ethan's advances further upon the timeline... it was very hard for me to decide their order :/

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“Shit! Ethan, I think we’ve got some problems here!”

Shaking off the shook of seeing a fucking tentacle of mold launching from his own hand and piercing that freak’s forehead, Ethan had no choice but to save the ruminations about his monstrous nature for the future… were he to survive today, that is.

Good luck, Evie.

One more glance towards the bald man was the only thing he could spare before exiting the sphere and seeing the commotion that troubled Dion for himself - the metal shutters that had previously fully enclosed the command center were slowly but surely being pulled down, revealing ordinary glass panels behind them.

Ethan tensed his muscles in anticipation, hoping that he was prepared to face the most likely foe that was about to challenge them. Due to the prior intelligence gathered about the Empire State Building’s defenses, the gang was informed in advance of possible deterrents they could face on their mission.

While these newest threats to his well-being would be a far-cry from Bio-Organic monstrosities Ethan had prevailed against in the past, they would, most definitely, be just as deadly, if not more so. 

And there it was, that unmistakable hum - one made by numerous small rotors - coming from down below, confirming Ethan’s suspicions. 

Attack drones, capable of flight and rapid movement; very likely armed and - whether controlled by human operators or governed by murderous and illegal AI - indubiously lethal. They might not be some biological abominations, but they were designed for a purpose similar enough - to slay humans. One could argue that the only real difference was the fact that it was mechanics and engineers who came up with these murderbots, instead of virologists or geneticists.

At least these don’t smell like rotting corpses... small mercies, right?

Letting out a mirthless chuckle at his private thoughts, Ethan gripped his looted pistol tight while taking aim at the direction of the closest noise.

And not too soon, as the instant later a large black quad-rotor drone ascended from below while presenting its profile to the hardened survivor with a quick trigger-finger. Somewhere in the back of his mind Ethan registered the glinting barrel of a small machine gun underneath the drone rotating to place him in its cross-hairs.

A man versus a machine - a truly timeless struggle, with a seemingly foregone conclusion. Yet it was Ethan who let loose a round first, if only by an instant of time. And while the pistol round failed to penetrate the drone’s armored carcass, the kinetic energy of the bullet was enough to nudge its own gun off-course - sparing Ethan from suffering a barrage of rounds it unleashed.

Undaunted by seemingly tiny bullets pinging off the metal sphere next to him; or the fact that the drone had just shrugged off a trio of rounds from his pistol, Ethan did not waste a second in adjusting his aim a bit - now eying the rotors that kept the accursed machine aloft.

With pinpoint precision and remarkable swiftness, Ethan unleashed the wrath of his humble firearm - scoring several hits right into the machine’s front right rotor - with the reward for his efforts becoming apparent as the drone craned in the opposite direction, while trailing black smoke from the damaged device. Not allowing his mechanical nemesis to recover, Ethan repeated the procedure on its left rotor and that was enough for the machine to start its calamitous descent to the ground - with undoubtedly perilous conclusion. Ethan could only hope that nobody would get hurt once the drone crashed. 

Not that the much-suffering father had much time for such musings, as the hum of many more rotors soon became deafening, once again putting that familiar mortal fear into his moldy heart. While H&K VP9 pistols were some quality sidearms, the simple 9mm rounds were insufficient to defeat even light armor, such as the one equipped by these drones. The notion of taking more than one at a time with this weapon painted grim odds for the Dulvey survivor and his Hound Wolf partner.

Should’ve upgraded to P90s these guards had… damn!

Uncaring for his regretful reverie, a drone appeared to his left and before Ethan could even swerve his aim, the machine crashed right through the flimsy glass with its barrel immediately spewing hot lead at the man. Ethan’s only move in such a situation was to leap back into the metal orb that dominated the middle of the room - the only real source of cover in this command center. He managed to find refuge behind its metal walls soon enough, but he was just not quick enough to avoid the damage entirely, as searing hot agony radiated through his body - originating in the lower left quarter of his abdomen.

The pain was horrible, momentarily dizzying the man with its intensity, even as he half-heartedly brushed a pair of fingers across the affected areas - only to dumbly gape at the dark red liquid that now soaked his digits. For a second, it seemed that the only sound he could hear was the deafening ringing in his own ears. 

Even his molded physiology would not let Ethan simply shrug off a penetrating gunshot injury such as this one, yet the man was nothing if not enduring, as his namesake demanded no less of him. Fighting off the pain and shock, through clenched teeth, Ethan was able to focus on the world, once more.

Dion must have also come to the conclusion that the metal orb was the safest place to be in the room, as the redheaded man now shared the sphere with Ethan and the seated bald freak. 

Now standing on the opposite sides of a door-like opening that separated the inner part of the gigantic sphere from the outside world, the two men could only exchange panicked glances as the humming of rotors increased in intensity. 

For whatever reason, the drones did not rush to finish off the two human intruders immediately, but remained outside the orb, allowing the men a moment to catch their breath. While Ethan took a second to reaffirm the fact that his newest injury was of a non-crippling kind, even if it was agonizingly painful and very likely lethal, if left untreated, Dion took a glance at his watch.

Struggling to be heard over the deafening hum of rotors, Dion roared out, “Our chopper is in four minutes! But how the hell are we going to last that long!?”

Now that was a good question, since the moment the drones decided to swarm inside the orb, both of them would be turned into mincemeat within seconds. For now murderbots held back, however, merely crashing through the glass panels and proceeding to flutter around the command center. Perhaps the intelligence behind the killing machines did not want to risk harming the hibernating freak in the middle of it? Whatever the reasoning, it was unlikely to last for long, not to mention the simple fact that to get their extraction chopper, the two men would have to brave the rest of this floor, anyway.

Armed with their simple sidearms, like it or not, Ethan and Dion were trapped in the enigmatic sphere that was their refuge… and perhaps their tomb, as well.

Good thing there were two more members of their team nearby – Ethan just hoped that they would learn of their predicament soon enough. Not that he was particularly eager to owe yet another favor to the bloodthirsty Dimitrescu sibling or the scruffy Lord, but he was understandably even less eager to be turned into swiss cheese by these flying murderbots. Life is one big trade-off, after all.

Suddenly, every existential issue faded to nothing as an all-powerful sense rippled throughout his body and soul. With unexplainable dread grasping his very heart, Ethan momentarily forgot all about the impending mortal threat the drones presented, much less his petty concerns about owing a favor or two to Cassandra.

It was hard to explain this ethereal feeling he experienced. But the most important aspect of it he could comprehend on an unconscious level. It was loss – plain and simple.

He couldn’t tell exactly what, but Ethan was sure that he had just lost something very important to him – like a part of his very essence was sheared off…  Somehow it felt like this unexplainable trauma he had just suffered was both intangible… yet also vital to his well-being, nevertheless.

Unfortunately, Ethan wasn’t exactly given a chance to dwell upon the newfound hole in his heart, as the drone mastermind had finally decided that exterminating the invaders was more important than preserving the Replica Commander in whose sanctuary they happened to be.

Like one, every single drone in the command center – around a dozen by now, with more fluttering in periodically – started peppering the sphere entrance with small-caliber gunfire while swiftly advancing towards it. Ethan and Dion had mere seconds to figure out a game plan before they would be mercilessly cut down.

There was no plan.

The first drone to fly in did not waste a second in rotating its gun right towards the redheaded Hound Wolf, eager to put a definite end to his career in combating bioterrorism. Dion’s and Ethan’s combined firearms appeared to be enough of a dissuasion for the machine’s chosen course, however, as numerous rounds struck past its armor plates and into its vulnerable innards, putting an end to the mechanized menace that soon cluttered to the floor - disabled for good.

The second drone met a similar fate, yet the third was more fortunate, as both men had run out of ammo and simply lacked the precious time to reload before its own deadly weapon would find its mark in their fragile flesh.

As Ethan stared right into the polished barrel of the drone’s machine gun, a single instinct to survive screamed right from the center of his being. There was no opportunity for flight, so fight it has to be.

What turned out to be a meek, last-ditch effort at self-defense turned into something more, as Ethan hurled his emptied sidearm into the drone, momentarily stunning it from that impact alone... yet to the father’s own shock a tentacle of inky black mold followed the pistol’s trajectory soon after – violently ejected from the palm of his own hand - the same one that had infected the Replica Commander with Eveline, before. And while the thrown pistol merely deflected from its armored shell, the tentacle firmly attached itself to the smooth surface of the aerial machine – providing Ethan with unexpected leverage…

…which he - ignoring his natural discomfort - promptly put to use, by gripping the tentacle on his end with both the fingers of the hand it protruded from, as well as his left one. Using it akin to a rope, with a single fierce tug, Ethan was able to toss the drone right back from whence it came – creating a deadly mid-air collision with its compatriot, which turned out to be right behind it. A small explosion occurred immediately after, causing the moldy tendril to shrivel and swiftly die – with its parts crystallizing and crumbling until nothing but an oozing hole in Ethan palm remained as proof of its past existence.

Gasping for breath from sudden onset of exhaustion, Ethan knew that this was a trick he would not be able to repeat any time soon, as his body was already reaching its limit. Whatever that overwhelming feeling of loss he had just experienced was, one thing he could easily tell that it had weakened him greatly.

They had bested five drones with cunning, dexterity and supernatural powers, yet now they were completely at the mercy of around a dozen more.

Panting hard, Ethan connected his gaze with Dion’s, even as he hoped that Cassandra or Karl would ride in to save the day, once more.

 

They did not disappoint.

A ferocious yet undeniably feminine and very familiar yell – that easily pierced through the hum of rotors – was followed by a barrage of deafening gunfire.

Peeking out from their cover, Ethan was immediately able to spot the culprit – Cassandra Dimitrescu, covered from head to toe in blood and sporting two P-90 submachine guns. With her expression twisted into a grimace of hatred, the fierce middle sibling appeared akin to a warrior deity of old to Ethan’s tired eyes – beautiful, but so very deadly.

Fortunately for the battered Bravo Team, 5.7-28mm armor-piercing rounds of P-90s turned out to be a step above simple 9mm cartridges and the drones were blasted apart in a shower of furious sparks.

One, two, three, four seconds passed – and just as many drones had been critically damaged and disabled by her seemingly raging, yet precise bursts. Clearly, the perils of dual-wielding Chris warned about did not quite apply to a vampiric bug-women… Yet the remaining drones were hardly out of commission just yet and they did not waste time in turning around to address the newest threat to their mechanical existence.

To Ethan’s shock and no small amount of fear, the return fire from the aerial machines actually found its mark right in Cassandra’s flesh instead of harmlessly passing through – tearing chunks right out of it while making blackish blood spurt all over her frame.

The cold is her weakness!

The realization was quick to arrive – the command center was still quite chill – not enough to cause a regular human in a midst of a life-or-death struggle any real discomfort, but clearly sufficient to disable Cassandra’s shapeshifting ability.

With her intangibility stripped off, she was barely above a normal person in terms of durability or resilience right now, yet she still leapt to his defense, heedless of any harm that could come to her person – even against such overwhelming odds.

Ethan knew well how devout Cassandra was to her family, how fiercely protective she was of her sisters and mother, but to think that she would act so selflessly for his sake…

No fucking way I’ll let you die for my sake, Cass!

Seeing the drones distracted by Cassandra, Ethan knew that he had to make his move now. Ignoring his pain and exhaustion, with a guttural war cry that would’ve made even Gunnery Sergeant Hartman proud, Ethan leapt right from his cover and jumped onto the nearest drone – careful to avoid the rotors, naturally. Amazingly, Dion – perhaps emboldened by Ethan’s determination or possibly out of his own sense of blooming comradery with the vampire siblings – replicated Ethan’s feat and latched himself onto another drone.

Now, the aerial murder-bots were large and sturdy, yet the weight of an adult male was clearly enough to put them out of balance and soon enough both drones collapsed. Downed but not yet disabled, they could still not protect themselves anymore - allowing the foolhardy men to start beating on them with whatever heavy object was nearby – a fire extinguisher in Ethan’s case; a hefty med kit in Dion’s.

The men’s effort left only three drones for Cassandra to handle… unfortunately, that turned out to be two more than she could. Blasting one more drone apart with her firearms, Cassandra let loose a piercing shriek of pain as several more impacts registered across her battered shape. With a huff of disbelief, the Dimitrescu warrior collapsed on her knees, while her weakened fingers lost their grip on her guns, causing them to clutter to the floor.

Declawed and vulnerable like never before, the proud woman had nothing left but a scalding glare for the emotionless machines, even as they lined a perfect kill shot – right into her tattooed forehead.

Before they could execute the downed brunette, however, the final member of their team deigned to make his grand appearance. With but a flick of his wrist, both drones were telekinetically tossed against each other like children’s toys – with the resulting impact being powerful enough to immediately cause them to explode into a small yet blinding globe of inferno.

“Thanks, Uncle…” huffed out the vampiric woman, even as she struggled to get back to her feet. Karl, being a surprisingly kind and caring uncle that he turned out to be, rushed to assist his wounded niece.

In turn, bashing the vile machine underneath him one more time, Ethan stood up, while gazing around the command center and the wrecked drones littering it. Somehow, the present state of silence was even more deafening to the hardened father than the previous chaotic hum of multitude of rotors. The agony radiating from his gunshot injury, exasperated by his violent motions was close to unbearable.

“Did… did we win?”

It was Dion who shattered the loaded silence with his straightforward question, which was laced with disbelief.

Heisenberg smirked, but shook his head. Ethan had a moment to take in the Lord’s features, before he spoke. Clearly, the struggle took its toll on Karl, as well - if his bruised and disheveled appearance combined with blood freely trickling from his nostrils were any indication. Even the most powerful of Miranda’s acolytes had his limits.

“Not for long. I’ve disabled the elevators, but they’ve got an army breaking down through the little cave-in I’ve caused on the stairway. We’ve got a minute or two, at most. Hope that chopper is gonna be here on time.” Gazing into the broken window, Heisenberg – with shocking tenderness – caressed Cassandra’s brunette locks, even as he gave the woman a hum of reassurance.

“Is she going to be alright?” asked Ethan with more than a little worry in his tone, while approaching his unlikely savior. Never in his wildest dream would he ever think that it would be Cassandra Dimitrescu that would ever save his life… not after the sadistic treatment he had suffered at her hands in their castle. Yet she did. Multiple times, in fact. First, she had lent him a figurative hand by obliterating that assassin in the safe house, now she leapt to his defense even while knowing how disadvantaged she was, heedless of risks… as if he was her family…

And with a gnawing in his heart, Ethan realized that she was . Even beyond the suffering Bela would have to endure if Cassandra perished, Ethan himself could not bear the thought of the cruel sibling dying… especially from her foolhardy attempt to bail his ass out of the frying pan. Gazing into her fading amber orbs, Ethan gulped as it became apparent that the woman was swiftly becoming delirious and unresponsive. She was tough, true… but hardly invincible. Now, with her own blackish blood smearing her body and her head slumped forward, she didn’t look too good…

“She’s gonna be just fine.” Heisenberg’s words were like a balm for Ethan’s weary soul. “Good thing our little monster engorged herself on that whitecoated bastard before coming here. If I know one thing – it’s the fact that my so-called nieces get off of human blood in more ways than one. A little power nap and she will be up and about - prancing around and causing messes, just like she always does.” The sudden noise of dozens of combat boots beating against the marble floor – coming from down below forced the mechanic to visible cringe and amend his thought, “That is… if any of us are getting outta here, in the first place…”

None of them looked to be in a combat-worthy shape at that point, but a sound of a rotor – this one much lower in pitch, compared to the drones’ tiny ones – was enough to reignite the hope in the battle-weary team. Perhaps they could all get out of this place in one piece, after all.

Gazing at the source of the noise, Ethan let out a deep sigh of relief as his tired eyes spotted that unmistakable shape of a small helicopter – rising up to be on their level and hovering right next to a broken segment of glass wall. Their salvation was just on the other end of this battlefield of a command center and its side door was open in a clear invitation to hop in and escape this blood-soaked nightmare  - to finally lead a life of peace and happiness, perhaps. 

Not wasting a moment, the four unlikely, yet undeniably effective comrades made a straight line towards the waiting helicopter, with Cassandra’s barely responsive frame being supported by Karl.

Ethan, taking rear, could not resist the desire to glance inside the enigmatic orb and its sole occupant one more time, as he passed by its entrance on his way to salvation. There was that bald freak, still seated in his neural chair, yet his pose had changed dramatically – to Ethan’s surprise. Instead of hibernating calmly, the Replica Commander’s body appeared to be in throes of seizures, with foam coming out of his mouth and his eyes quite literally bulging out of their sockets. The whole sight was unnerving in the extreme, but it paled in comparison to what happened in the next moment.

As if some unseen pressure proved critically unbearable, the Commander’s head burst open like a ripe pumpkin that was struck by a sledgehammer; producing a spectacularly gory rain of viscera and gray matter.

“What the…” mumbled out Ethan, completely flabbergasted by this turn of events, yet the hurried steps of the massive security force now coming up the stairs to the command steps prevented the man from stopping and gawking upon the ghastly scene.

Still, as Ethan made the jump to the safety of the extraction chopper’s cabin, he couldn’t help but ponder about this grisly turn of events. That indescribable feeling of loss he had experienced earlier came to the forefront of his mind as he took his seat, with the helicopter swiftly speeding away from the Empire State Building; a couple of small-caliber shots chasing the escapees - to no avail.

Surely these two events are connected… somehow… Eveline, are you alright?

Even as Dion congratulated everyone on a job well done or Karl questioning whether it all even worked, Ethan had his thoughts only about Eveline, while mindlessly applying some Green Gel to the site of his injury - not even noticing that it was not healing quite as fast as his wounds usually tended to.

Evie…?

It wasn’t that unusual for her to ignore him, as even though she was surely done with that deceased Replica Commander, she might have been busy elsewhere, with Rosie or Bela. Or, perhaps she was merely exhausted from her own activity and was now taking a restorative, hibernation-like nap.

That profound sense of loss earlier, combined with Ethan completely unable to sense Eveline anymore, however, pointed the father’s train of thoughts towards a more dire direction.

Evie… please be alright.

...

So consumed Ethan was with worry for his adopted daughter, that he completely ignored the helicopter pilot, as the man explained that the overall situation had developed – not in their favor – while the Bravo Team performed the infiltration of the Empire State Building.

Only the shrill noise of the civil defense sirens, coming from the ground below was enough to shake Ethan from his worried trance. The government wouldn’t be turning these on for nothing. A nuclear, chemical or biological attack was the most likely culprit behind the sirens – Ethan was swift to realize this much.

“We are not done yet… are we?”

Ethan’s resigned question was left unanswered, as a missile – launched from a nearby high-rise building rooftop – streaked right their way. The pilot cursed and swerved the aerial vehicle around in a bid to dodge the deadly projectile, yet all he achieved was that instead of impacting the cockpit, the missile struck at the tail section.

The explosion that followed was enough to daze everyone inside the cabin, while shearing the helicopter’s tail clean off. Unbalanced, the vehicle was swift to fall into an uncontrollable descent. Despite the pilot’s best efforts, it was obvious that the ground was coming to meet them at a speed that would not leave any survivors from the resulting crash.

Closing his eyes, Ethan merely awaited the inevitable end, fully aware of his helplessness in such a situation. At least Rosie would be safe with Bela - that much father had no doubts about and that thought was the one that had brought solace to what he was sure were his last moments.

 

***

 

Subject RC-Theta - whose name, or rather the designation Eveline glimpsed the instant she had invaded his body and mind - resisted her every attempt to assume control of his frame admirably, yet futilely.

Just like he was made for the singular purpose of overseeing the psionic Relay, so was she designed to infect and subjugate biological matter. No matter how strong his willpower was or how formidable his mental barriers were, it was only a matter of time until she overwhelmed it all.

And overwhelm it all she did, as not even the gene-enhanced clone could resist her mold, not when it was introduced directly into his cranium. She’d really have to make it up to her daddy for spooking him like that, though…

First things first, however and now Eveline’s priority lay entirely in taking control of the psionic Relay. Entering the mind of Theta was just the first step. Now that she was firmly entrenched in his body, the acclimation process had begun - as the ghostly girl was adjusting to her newest host and the myriad of senses that were available to him.

While she was prepared to experience a completely dazzling feedback once his sensory input became her sensory input, the sheer impact of it all momentarily stunned the parasitic mold girl. As the immense stream of data flooded into her consciousness it was Eveline’s turn to be overwhelmed. 

Nothing could prepare Eveline’s mind for the barrage of information she was suddenly exposed to. Sure, once upon a time she commanded nearly a hundred mold hosts and could switch between them in a blink of an eye… yet now?

Now, it's like she had a bird’s eye view upon tens of thousands of them - all over the whole goddamn planet. Akin to beholding a geoscape of some kind, the feeling was indescribable - it’s like she floated somewhere far above the clouds while watching the tiny dots - which she, nevertheless, was able to perceive with peerless sight. If she focused her attention on one such dot, she could even hear its thoughts… which were not much to listen to, really. Replica were not designed to have a rich mental world, after all.

Glancing around the myriad of Replica, she felt knowledge about their purpose and conditions flooding in - channeled directly from Theta’s mind into her own.

Some of the Replica were under Armacham’s direct control; some were sold to international organizations or affluent governments. Some were hibernating while others carried guard duty; several platoons were engaged in active combat right in this instant of time. The differences between them were interesting, yet ultimately irrelevant - for from this Relay, controlling this commander, she could influence them all, barring a couple of peculiar exceptions.

Three of such exceptions were right in this very city, as a matter of fact. She could perceive them on these planar maps, yet once she tried to glimpse deeper into their shells, nothing but agonized feedback was sent her way, implying that these three were off-limits even to this Commander she now possessed.

One of them, however, in addition to the aforementioned feedback of pain, also radiated a tinge of that very familiar to Eveline feeling - remorse. It's like this particular Replica Soldier experienced deep regret for his actions, yet performed them with impeccable diligence and obedience, anyway… much like she was programmed to, once upon a time. Somehow, the ghastly girl immediately felt a certain sense of empathy towards this trooper.

While Eveline could not interact with this soldier or even decipher his identity, she could still reach out to him through her own emotions… and so she did, by focusing her mind on that feeling of solace she had found from having a family that had accepted her… that had changed her  - her daddy, her sister, and perhaps even her newfound mommy. Through others, she could overcome even her monstrous origins and atrocious deeds. Perhaps, he could, too?

Eveline was not sure if her shenanigans would have any temporary or lasting effects, but she had to try. The feeling of kinship with those that had to endure these monstrous upbringings were strong in her, and therefore she had to at least make an attempt to establish a connection with those who were receptive to it.

Not willing to spend more time dwelling on something she could not reliably affect, however, Eveline turned her attention back to the peculiar geoscape she had found herself in. But before she would proceed to continue with her brazen plan, she wanted to inspect more of these soldiers… perhaps they could be all freed, permanently?

Soon, however, something wrong occurred as Eveline’s attention began splitting around, soon drowning the ghostly invader in a cacophony of noise; showering her in their sensations and stimuli. It was all too much, far too much for her unprepared mind.

Taking a metaphorical breather, Eveline proceeded to regain her bearings by loosing her control over the host and was quick to recognize the unfortunate fact of her inability to directly influence so many moving parts. She was far too ambitious with her notion of freeing the cloned soldiers… that was a simple impossibility with her limited resources and time. All she could hope to achieve was giving them all one direction… which she could not even do directly - there were simply too many of them for her mind.

Not that she needed to use her own mind, though. While she could indeed control her hosts directly, most of the time she merely imposed her will upon them while relegating herself to an overseer-like role. Subject Theta will do everything she needed him to do, as he simply had no choice but to obey. The mold in his brain made sure of that. Eveline could merely take the backseat in his mind and let him do the driving, while she provides the directions.

Order them all to prepare for combat.

Her mental command was heeded immediately, and Eveline could sense tens of thousands soldiers instantly standing straight, awaiting further orders. Even those who were already engaged in hostilities focused part of their attention on inbound orders, while still performing their combat tasks.

Satisfied, Eveline proceeded to the next stage of their brazen plan. While her own information-processing capacities were not that superior to that of an average human and she could not hope to remember the exact coordinates of every Connections’ facilities, she didn’t need to. Not when her beloved sister was there to help her. All she had to do was reach out.

Hey, Rosie! You ready to help out your big sis?

She was still connected to the tiny Winters, after all, who was waiting to do her part.

Sitting in their own HQ, with Tom and Alcina nearby, and sipping on a chocolate milkshake, Rose immediately perked up at the voice of her elder sibling, who was there for as long as she could remember.

Evie! I have this thingie right here! 

Excellent! I’ll just need a peek…

And just like that, Eveline channeled her consciousness towards the mold that made up Rose’s body, in a bid to gain access to the tiny girl’s eyesight; while not forgetting to keep the reins on Theta’s body tight.

Akin to a ghost possessing a body; through Rosie’s eyes, she saw an active computer screen with a global map on it - with every known Connections’ facility location marked with both the designation and exact coordinates. Fortunately, the geoscape in Theta’s mind seemed to support the common coordinate system, so all she had to do was read them to him.

Doing just that, Eveline proceeded to bark at her unwilling host, while not taking her eyes off the map that was so helpfully provided to them by the deceased defector.

Designate all targets at the following coordinates as hostile, to be exterminated with extreme prejudice, with the highest priority. Involve every single available Replica, override every existing command. Set the maximum lethality against everyone inside the facilities at these coordinates. Tear everything to shreds there! Leave none alive!

Having expressed her destructive will in her most emotional way, Eveline started to feed him the coordinates of all of the Connection’s two hundred, sixty-eight facilities around the globe. 

Soon after starting the data transfer, somewhere in the back of her mind, Eveline became aware of her mommy calling for her, yet she could not interrupt this tender process and had to ruefully ignore her - for now - Evie was determined to answer Bela’s call the moment she was done with Theta. 

Continuing the data transfer, the process took mere minutes to finalize due to their established mind-link that had transcended the limitation of ordinary human interactions and soon she received a mental confirmation from Theta.

Sending Rose nothing but the mental equivalent of her gratitude, Eveline retreated from the girl’s mind, only to behold Theta’s geoscape, once again. The feedback of thousands of soldiers receiving their orders followed soon after, and once again Eveline felt almost overwhelmed by their sheer magnitude. 

Unfortunately, that was the moment Theta chose to attempt to strike back at his puppet master, suddenly focusing all of his formidable efforts to expel Eveline out of his mind. Moreover, the whole system to which he was connected seemingly assisted the Commander, taking the mold girl by surprise.

The previously calm white geoscape now appeared as an angry yellow to Eveline, even as she did her best to keep her unwilling puppet in check, yet the ferocity of his resistance was simply staggering - like nothing else she had ever experienced. It's like his every synapse had rallied to fight against her and soon the moldy subjugator found herself losing metaphorical ground as she was slowly but surely forced out of his mind. Unless she did something fast, she would be expelled in a matter of seconds and her previous order would be immediately countermanded right after. Everything she had done would be in vain…

NO!

She needed more strength, more power to rein him in. Every part of her essence had to be dedicated to regaining control.

Focusing her willpower in a mental fist, Eveline began to draw on her essence from her other hosts. From her newfound mommy, from her cherished sister and finally - from her beloved father. She needed it all - all of her combined power to reassert dominance and ensure the success of their plan… of her plan.

The mental tug of war continued, yet Eveline started to regain her advantage as fresh energy channeled into her latest host from all the rest. Still, Theta resisted fiercely, demanding Eveline to draw more and more from her family. Eventually, she had no choice but to sap every speck of her essence from mommy and sister - severing the connection she had with them. She could not do the same with daddy…

While she was a mere passenger in Bela and Rose’s body, Ethan was a different case, entirely… She had used her mold far too many times to heal his wounded - sometimes mortally so - flesh. The part of his brain and his whole heart were made from her mold and the only thing that could continually animate them was her own essence. Were she to vacate him entirely… that would not be too dissimilar to a critically injured patient being disconnected from his life support…

Ethan would perish if she left him, yet Eveline knew that she needed all of her available power to prevail against Theta. She sensed as if she was close to subduing him… if only she could draw upon the rest of her essence in Ethan.

I am sorry, Daddy…

She would not leave her daddy for dead, so instead of sapping everything from him, Eveline left behind a single speck of her essence - not enough to host her consciousness, yet enough to animate his moldy heart and brain.

With the influx of power, Eveline finally managed to decisively strike against Theta’s struggles - completely dominating his will, once again… yet… the price was high, indeed, as there was no way back for her.

Subject Theta was her only host now and she was not sure whether she could even awaken him to let daddy know about her predicament. Yet she was fully committed to her course, no matter what. Eveline was determined to create a new legacy, one that made that dark world of theirs a little bit brighter.

Nobody will ever have to go through what I went through. I have to make sure of it - no matter what.

RELAY THE FINAL CONFIRMATION TO THEM!

It was impossible to resist Eveline’s mental command now, and so Theta had no choice but to obey. Three hundred ‘order acknowledged - proceeding to exterminate designated target.’ - from three hundred local Replica Commanders - were Eveline’s reward and she could keenly sense the clones all over Earth preparing to march out and strike against every target she had marked. A single local commander controlled a hundred Replica Troopers - more than enough for every single target she had marked.

Within hours, 258 of the Connections’ facilities would be reduced to rubble, with everyone inside slain - of that, she had little doubt. Thirty thousand cloned super-soldiers were now determined to wipe them all out as they commandeered any available vehicles to reach their destinations in a manner as swift as possible, while utterly ignoring the bedazzled humans around them.

Against all odds, Eveline had succeeded. Even an organization as insidious and omnipresent as the Connections would not be able to recover from the blow she was about to inflict on it. She had no time to celebrate her imminent victory, however…

Apparently, Theta had one last surprise up his sleeve.

Whole geoscape suddenly flashed red as the psionic system detected an unauthorized presence inside. Seems like the possessed Commander somehow managed to warn the system without letting Eveline know about it and now his mocking voice resonated in their shared mindscape.

See you in hell, bitch.

Before she could contemplate on the meaning of his words, this whole mental world of theirs started to violently shudder. 

The geoscape flashed black and shattered into a billion pieces that fell into the seemingly infinite void below.

Beyond the visual representation of their psyche, however, Eveline could feel Theta’s physical body convulsing in its dying throes. The heart started to beat at a rate never meant for the fragile organ. The pressure in his cranium was rising to levels far beyond the norm. The end was coming for his flesh, that much she knew with certainty… and far too fast for her to be able to do anything about it.

With no escape route available, Eveline could only stare as the whole mindscape collapsed around her; with only enough time for one last line of thoughts.

I am sorry, Sister… you will have to master your body without me from now on… 

I am sorry, Mommy… I wanted us to have more time together… but it is not meant to be, it seems…

I am sorry, Daddy, for everything I have put you through. I wanted so badly to make up for the sins of my past… if only there was more time… I hope that this will be enough for you to remember me fondly. I wish I told you that I love you and I trust that you will take care of Mommy and Rosie for me…

 

Farewell, my family…

 

Theta’s body experienced one last violent convulsion and the pressure that gathered in his head had reached its limit - with a particularly gruesome outcome. With no brain supporting it, the mindscape faded to nothing and the two sparks that were imprisoned there were extinguished in an instant. 

 

Infinite darkness claimed Eveline and she existed no more.

Notes:

Sorry for the lengthy delay, I suppose I did need a small break from writing, after all :D This is my first year of writing - I've started somewhere in May 2021, and now with the coming of 2022 I am proud to announce that I've written over 400k words in this period - not bad for a blooming writer :) Though, of course, one should chase quality, not quantity.

Anyway, this chapter was a long time in the making, and it was several hard decisions I had to make here, which I am actually happy about. Eveline's question was something I've been considering for a long time and now I am finally set on course with how her story ends...

As for the rest of this story, I plan to update my other story (Hello Neighbor) next, but after that I will commit to finishing Bound by Sins of the Past. We are pretty close to the end now, so I would like to draw this large work to a well-deserved conclusion in good time.

Finally, I'd like to congratulate you all, my dear readers, with the New, 2022 Year and I truly hope that you've enjoyed your winter holidays and that this new year will prove to be a better one for everyone! Thank you all for your continued support and if you have any questions, suggestions, critique or comments, I always welcome them!

Chapter 42: Convergence

Notes:

All three parts of this chapter occur more or less simultaneously.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Nobody was as shocked as Bela herself that her little charade worked. 

 

Before the convoy containing Mia Winters had departed and which Bela was determined to stalk, the blonde bug-woman had a sudden inspiration as her keen eyes spotted a single straggler. Not thinking twice about the swiftly-concocted plan, Bela had immediately leapt upon the unwary man, only to brutally choke the life out of him. 

Somehow, she had expected the callous act to be hard to execute. Not in a physical sense, of course - for she was well aware of the inhuman power granted to her by her mold-enhanced physiology; but in a mental way…  To take someone’s life with your two bare hands - one could argue - the most primal and personal way possible.

After leaving Romania, Bela had vowed to become a better person - and to nudge her family in that same direction. To live and let live - that was her motto. 

Of course, that was before her mother was abducted and her sisters hurt by the Connections and their cohorts. It was before she had befriended the men and women of the Charlie Team in the last three days, only to see them brutally cut down to the last.

As her powerful fingers crushed the masked man’s windpipe, Bela peered down at him with nothing but malice in her amber orbs. All of his muffled pleas or pitiful gurgling went unheeded as the elder Dimitrescu sibling was set upon her course - to savagely butcher everyone who threatened her family. Mercy was a valuable concept - her beloved Ethan had taught her that much, but right now she was just not in the mood for it. Not when these masked murderers - led by Mia Winters of all the people - were about to take another try at her Mother.

Given enough motivation - and she had plenty, it turned out to be surprisingly easy to strangulate a man. There was no hesitation or moral quandaries that plagued Bela during this act of life-taking. 

Satisfied when the man ceased breathing and when she could no longer sense his heartbeat, Bela promptly took the bulky biohazard suit off the corpse, only to swarm herself inside of it.

 

And now, with her deception apparently successful and none of the slain soldier’s comrades questioning her presence in their jeep, Bela had a chance to focus on her peculiar circumstances.

There were three more, similarly dressed and equipped, soldiers in the vehicle with her - armed with mixed weaponry. The car itself was moving in the direction of the makeshift HQ of the anti-Connections Task Force, established by Leon Kennedy, and of which even the reclusive Dimitrescu family became a willing part of… for reasons of their own.

Outside the car, the civil defense sirens were blaring loudly, implying that the viral bombs these strange men had deployed earlier got the city population’s attention already. Glancing through tinted glass, Bela spotted a couple of civilians who were locked in a mad dash across the street, in a desperate gambit to reach indoors where some protection from the mist could be found, presumably. Discounting several such groups of stragglers, the previously choke-full streets were eerily empty. She could only guess that the majority of the locals were already safe inside their imposing structures of brick and stone. The alternative was horrifying to contemplate - even for Bela, so she didn’t. Focus and clarity of thought was paramount if she was to succeed and Bela knew that even her hardened mind was not immune to occasional downward spirals…

So, instead of contemplating on the fate of hapless humans, she refocused her thoughts on another curious topic - the fact that the road chosen by these aggressors were mostly devoid of cars, as if this whole brazen operation of theirs was pre-planned in advance and arranged with the assistance of local authorities, to boot. 

Truly, the Connections’ reach knows no bounds… I just hope Ethan and Eveline were successful in their own endeavor… lest all of our efforts would be for naught.

Adding to sirens and distant screams coming from the outside were the sounds of explosions and noises of far-away gunfire - soon becoming a true cacophony of mayhem, forcing Bela to grit her teeth lest she’d lost her composure - which was being pushed to its very limits by the ongoing violence.

She wanted to escape violence, she truly did, yet it seemed to chase her no matter where she fled from it. In a way it was karmic, and Bela was introspective enough to admit that she deserved it all - that didn’t mean that she was going to accept this perpetual cycle of bloodshed. She will merely tolerate it… for now - for as long as it was necessary. 

Not every soul could be reached with kind words and soft gestures alone - she knew that much - and somehow she felt that the fine gentlemen that shared the vehicle with her were exactly that kind.

Despite the chaos happening outside, the present company continued their journey in ominous silence, with nary a word being exchanged between the four individuals. That all changed in several minutes, as the driver took a turn that saw the car move through a street with a particularly thick concentration of this cursed bluish mist. Surprisingly, the street was not as deserted as the others and many shapes were milling about in the dense, visibility-limiting smog.

Bela couldn’t help but wonder if these were some carefree humans who didn’t care about the unnatural mist, sirens and the loudspeakers screaming about seeking shelter, but then she recalled the immediate effect that mist had on one of the soldiers earlier - the one she had pulled a gas-mask from. 

No way an unprotected human can just wander around in there…

As their car slowed down to make another turn, Bela had time to take in the features of the shape closest to them, to her horror. 

The sad husk that stared back at her had less in common with a typical human and more with their own Moroaică - deathly pale skin, sickly gaunt features; complete lack of cognition or sentience in its empty eyes; snarling, frothing mouth and grasping hands to complete its feral disposition.

Bela sensed her hands involuntarily clenched into fists as she took in the ghastly visage leering down at her. She realized that this must have been one of the initial bombing location - with the hapless locals not having any time to react before the zombifying virus was upon them.

So this is the fate of a human exposed to this vile mist? And how many more are shambling around just like this one - not fast enough to find shelter in their houses? Thousand? Ten thousand? How monstrous are these men to commit such an abominable act upon their fellow humans?! And for what?!

What happened in the next moment only added to the pyre of righteous fury that blazed in Bela’s mind - a single zombie stumbled in the car’s path, only to be crushed right under the powerful vehicle’s uncaring wheels - causing the occupants to finally break their vigil of silence. Bela expected to hear a gasp of shock or a curse, but instead was greeted by a round of gas-mask muffled laughter - cruel in its joyousness, followed by fanatical zeal-fueled mockery.

“Behold, brothers! The fate of all those who dare to defy the Great Cycle!” gleefully exclaimed the terrorist on the front passenger seat. Reminiscent of Cassandra, Bela’s fingers twitched in their desire to break that human in half. She was barely able to restrain herself from doing just that.

“How foolish these complacent pigs are! Thinking themselves safe in their ivory towers! If this won’t wake up the world, I don’t know what will!” added the one next to Bela - sickening the blonde woman to her core with his nasal voice and vitriolic rhetoric. It was getting harder to control herself.

The driver said nothing, but snorted in what the Dimitrescu sibling could only decipher as assent.

Bela felt primal rage overtaking her senses, even as the rational, if somewhat self-hating, part of her mind tried to remind her that she was not the one to judge.

Suddenly, a shockingly vivid recollection from her grisly past came to the forefront of her mind - the memory of a particularly bloody chapter in the history of House Dimitrescu.

 

Almost thirty years ago, a young man from the village spurned Cassandra’s affections, having an unfortunate side effect of the brunette sibling cursing humanity as a whole. On that day, that was preceded by a night of bloodshed caused by some peasants deciding to seek retribution against House Dimitrescu, Cassandra had fully embraced her monstrous origins, vowing to never allow her human weakness to govern her actions again. In her vicious zeal, the middle daughter became crueler by the day, terrorizing both their prisoners and their staff. It all culminated with her present for Bela’s birthday, a month later - a whole batch of prisoners, deemed ‘unfit’ by Mother Miranda and therefore fully at Cassandra’s mercy - of which she had none, at the time. In her desire to spread her misanthropic glee, Cassandra had butchered them all, while carefully squeezing every precious drop of blood… all to prepare a quite literal bloodbath for her beloved elder sister.

While distressed at the callous treatment of their prisoners, Bela did not want to offend her younger sibling by rejecting the so-called gift … so she accepted it.

And to her horror, she had found herself enjoying the bathing ritual in sanguine colors far more than she should’ve. It resonated with the deepest, buried part of her psyche. That little part that screamed at her that she was the apex creature - the predator and humanity was naught but prey that existed simply to serve as her amusement and sustenance. Something she had worked so hard to suppress, yet for that night, so long ago, Bela had been able to fully share in Cassandra’s wicked delights. 

But to share in one’s mood was only naturally followed by sharing in their deeds, as well.

The maid she had tortured and consumed on the morning following her bloodbath - for the slightest of infractions - haunted Bela to this day. Even now, she could recall Nadia’s skittish face and horror-filled doe eyes with perfect clarity, as if she was sitting right across her.

Please, Mistress Bela! I will do better! I swear!

No, little one, you won’t.

The screams were unforgettable… as was the wicked delight brought by the power at her fingertips.

 

Back in the present, swallowing tears of grief that suddenly cascaded down her gas-mask covered face, Bela had to consider that perhaps she was in a fitting company after all. A monster belongs with the monsters, doesn't it? Violence begets violence and after all the bloodshed and murder Bela had witnessed in the last hours, that darkest part of her was once again rearing its ugly head inside of the blonde bug-woman. Could she really control it? By herself? Alone? 

Alone in the darkness, how could one do anything but to succumb to it?

A monster deserves to die by a monster’s hands…

Fueled by rage, Bela felt that same itch that had plagued her on that bloody day, so long ago. That wicked desire to tear these humans apart with her bare hands and to bathe in their blood. To engorge herself on every precious sanguine drop their feeble mortal shells would be able to provide. To consume the meat and gnaw on the bones.

Who cares about that bitch Mia, anyway… Surely someone else can deal with her? Cass will surely love to hunt her down… and Mother has enough guards to thwart whatever these filth are planning…

The loving sister and responsible daughter was temporarily replaced by a creature of dark passion and cruel desires - lost in the moment of seemingly impenetrable gloom and violence-induced insanity. 

So strong was the urge to cease this pathetic charade and to succumb to her wicked temptation that Bela bit deeply into her own lip, drawing blood - only serving to agitate her further as she tasted her own life-giving fluid. Positively shaking in her looted Hazmat suit now, it was growing harder and harder for the eldest Dimitrescu sibling to resist the desire to abandon her silly plan to tail Mia and the strange man that accompanied her and to simply feast upon these foul, wretched , wicked mortals. Right now. With her bloodlust reaching its boiling point, Bela’s hand grasped the hilt of her dagger, eager to enact unholy vengeance upon everyone who had slighted her.

They deserve to die… they all deserve to die!

 

You’re better than this, Bela Dimitrescu.

 

It was her words, but his voice…

She was not alone. Never again.

Before the bloodlust could cloud her mind completely, Bela was struck by the sudden image of Ethan. He was smiling with love and affection. And he was smiling at her . These special words he had spoken to her, which meant even more to her than he could possibly know.

 

I love you, Bela Dimitrescu

 

This memory from their unforgivable outing into that French nightclub was enough to subdue the miserable gloom and bestial savagery that always lurked just beneath the surface and today was threatening to burst forth. 

For all the horror and bloodshed in her long life, there was also something pure and innocent. A ray of light. The connection she had formed with that one special man - Ethan Winters. The man who had been able to glimpse past the monster - and he saw something good in her. Something worth preserving. And he grew to love her, and she - him. The bond they shared now, the happy moments of carefree joy with Ethan and his beautiful daughter Rose - were the priceless anchors that kept Bela afloat. More than just her, however, Ethan and Rose have affected the whole Dimitrescu family, calling the best of them out. Daniela was more determined than ever now to control her own beast - the most savage and unpredictable of them all. Cassandra grew to accept outsiders as more than just playthings - almost as her equals, even. Alcina herself - normally resolute in her misandric ways - seemingly accepted that silly man-thing and his little daughter, while showing remorse for their old ways.

There was more than just darkness and misery in the history of Dimitrescu after all. There was love and joy, as well - even if the shadow of their atrocities was always just around the corner. The mirthful games, the careless laughter, the harmless joy - such were the bonds of their sisterhood and the ties to their mother, even if they were less than natural - they were still real enough to Bela. But sometimes, it took a bright memory to remind her of that. A spark to light the fire to drive away the gloom.

Ethan…

Just his name alone was enough to see clarity restored to her mind. A content smile took the place of the savage sneer and her hand left the hilt of her concealed dagger - no longer craving to dismember these vile humans right this instant. They will get their due - she was certain of it, but for now, she will allow them to play the role of her unwitting guides, bringing her closer and closer to the prey truly worthy of her undivided attention.

What was I even thinking… I owe it to Mother to do everything in my power to defend her. Don’t worry, Mother, this horrid woman will never place a single finger upon you ever again. And be certain of that, little Rose - I will protect you as if you were my own child… even from your own mother, if I have to.

Mia Winters… comfortably riding on the backseat of the sedan ahead of Bela’s own. Mia was quite some distance away from Bela, yet the keen-eyed vampire could spot her unmistakable honey locks of hair, even through the tinted glass and the bluish mist that engulfed the whole area.

Through the lenses of her appropriated helmet, Bela’s yellow eyes narrowed in predatory focus. The elder Dimitrescu sibling was always good at getting the best out of any given situation, and she was determined to ensure that today would be no different. 

As their car started to approach its final destination and the noises of gunfire and explosions intensified, Bela was ready to dedicate her whole body and mind for the task at hand - for her family : Alcina, Cassandra, Daniela… and its newest members - Ethan and Rose. Even though the task in question itself appeared blurry to the blonde vampire, she was resolute to find a way to turn the tables on Mia and her cohorts.

I am coming, my family… just hold on!

 

***

 

Ethan was sure that this time, he was firmly on his way to meet his maker. Surely not even his moldy physiology or the uncanny good luck he seemed to possess would be enough to help him survive a fucking helicopter crash.

However, as was the case for the multitude of life-or-death events he had lived through and which should’ve surely claimed an average man like himself, fate had other plans for Ethan Winters.

As the metal screeched and groaned around him, Ethan carefully pried one weary eye open to see the reason for this delay before his untimely - but surely unavoidable - passing to the afterlife. For surely, the pulverizing impact with the uncaring ground, while trapped in this coffin of aluminum and considering the velocities and mass involved would be no less than lethal.

Yet dumbly gazing into the ‘copter’s illuminator, Ethan could plainly see that the eerily empty streets below them were not about to meet them head-on, as a matter of fact. Confusingly blinking his eyes, it took Ethan a second or two to comprehend the reason for the seemingly suspended state of the aircraft and when he did, the man felt like slapping his own face.

Of course…

Turning his gaze to stare at a passenger in the seat to his right, the battle-weary father beheld Karl Heisenberg. The scruffy metal-manipulator had his own eyes shut tight, a sneer of inhuman concentration etched into his face. With seemingly every muscle taut, every vein bulging and sweat running down freely - clearly, the colossal effort it took to keep their aircraft from crashing into the ground took everything Karl had, but to his credit, the ex-Lord performed the miracle that only he could with utter disregard for his own well-being. Even as dark red liquid started to trickle freely from his, already smeared with dried blood, nostrils and even though his whole frame shook with uncontrollable spasms, Heisenberg focused his entire being into that vital task of keeping the 2-ton helicopter from being smeared across the tarmac.

Nobody else inside the cabin said a work, merely gazing at the ferrokinetic mutant with awe in their gazes; the pilot himself did his best to direct the broken husk that used to be his vehicle to the nearest roof - thankfully, the semi-working primary rotor still allowed for a measure of control.

And just like that, the two men giving their all managed to land the crippled bird on a rooftop of the nearest high-rise building. The landing was rough - as expected, considering the lack of a proper helipad or the functional rotors on their aircraft - but nobody has died and that was a major win in Ethan’s book.

Beaten and bruised, the Bravo Team plus the FBI pilot managed to crawl their way out of the wrecked chopper; with Dion assisting heavily-panting Karl and Ethan providing aid to barely-responsive Cassandra.

“Jesus Christ… and dear ol’ dad said there are no such things as miracles! Well, it shows what the old fart knew!” mouthed Dion, with both shock and wonder plain to see in his wide-open eyes. 

Ethan could relate to that sentiment. Their survival right now was nothing short of a miracle… but while the narrowly-escaped oblivion offered eternal rest, their continued existence demanded answers to such pesky matters such as who exactly was behind the missile attack on their chopper in the first place, as well as what the hell was going on down below. With that in mind, Ethan took a moment to inspect himself, as well as his comrades, even as he gently seated Cassandra on a nearby ventilation duct; the tough woman unusually compliant in her weakened state.

Gazing down at the wound in his abdomen, Ethan had to note that it looked raw and red, even though the injury seemingly mostly mended itself. The man couldn’t help but wonder if his miraculous healing ability was slowly being exhausted by the continuous damage it had to repair. Regardless of that, however, the injury - while hurting like a bitch - was bearable and Ethan knew that he could still go on… Leaving a mental note to himself to have some medical professional inspect his injury later on - as it likely still contained the bullet itself, due to the lack of an exit wound, Ethan focused his attention at their sole female companion.

To his surprise and validating Karl’s words, Cassandra was looking like she was recovering swiftly. Even though her whole frame was covered in blood - both her own and that of her human enemies; her expensive suit irrevocably ruined and her shoes misplaced - the creature underneath all these macabre details appeared stable. Her previously hectic breathing patterns were normalizing and shaking subsiding. After the basic first aid applied to them during their brief flight, the many deep gashes covering her body were no longer bleeding themselves - allowing Ethan to let out a sigh of relief at the fact that she appeared to be in no imminent danger. Still, it was a big question mark in Ethan’s mind whether the fiery brunette was still combat-worthy after all the damage she took in their skirmish against the drones. Not that he had any right to ask her to sacrifice even more, after everything she had done for him.

“It’s fine, Cassi… you did enough… I’ll make sure to return you to your sisters and mother in one piece.” Ethan murmured the calming words softly, while tenderly but firmly squeezing Cassandra’s shoulder. In turn, the brunette sibling lazily lifted her head to gaze at Ethan, and through her blood-smeared and soggy locks of hair he could spot a hint of gratefulness shining in her half-lidded eyes.

In a peculiar twist of fate, Ethan saw this cruel woman - once his tormentor - as someone almost akin to his own sister, now - an older, crass sister. Giving her shoulder another reassuring squeeze and offering a calm smile, Ethan directed his gaze to his other companions. 

The FBI pilot, whose name Ethan did not know, appeared just fine physically, if understandably shocked by their predicament. The agent was fumbling with his radio, presumably trying to get in contact with his superiors, which offered a degree of reassurance to Ethan himself. Being a lone survivor is all fine and dandy, but having a reliable authority to lean on during a time of crisis is a far better scenario.

Dion Wilson, once again showcasing his uncanny luck, appeared none the worse for wear. Tilting his head to the side, Ethan had a private moment of wonder, as he gazed at the younger man. The fact that the redheaded Hound Wolf just kept escaping all these life-or-death moments they were having with barely a scratch on him was a miracle in itself and Ethan couldn’t help but feel a certain amount of envy towards him. Sure, having inhuman levels of regeneration was nice, but it was nicer still not to get wounded on a constant basis in the first place… 

Then again, he did get stabbed by ‘Anna’...

And while Dion appeared mostly fine, the person next to him was his polar opposite in that regard. Clearly, the combined toll the continuous use of his abilities took on Karl was just shy of incapacitating. Lifting their elevator cabin all the way up the Empire State Building, disabling numerous elevators and collapsing stairways, taking down a number of heavily-armed guards and culminating with preventing a helicopter crash was a damn long list of achievements, especially considering the quick pace of events. It was no surprise then that the metal manipulator appeared to be on the edge of consciousness after performing all of that. Even miracle workers could get tired, after all.

One glance was all it took for Ethan to know that Karl Heisenberg was not in fighting shape for the foreseeable future and that they would have to deal with this mess without the aid of his supernatural power.

“Mr. Winters?”

The FBI pilot’s voice took the father out of his musings. Glancing at the agent, Ethan saw him standing near the roof’s edge, gazing down below while holding a radio in his direction - inviting him to take it.

Not thinking twice, Ethan stepped up to the man and accepted the communication device, but not before sparing a moment to admire the scenery that was suddenly open to him.

In a way, for some primal and violent part of him - the one that would find the sight of a trainwreck beautiful - so was this scene of devastation breathtaking. And breathtaking it was, since Ethan suddenly found his lungs devoid of oxygen as a powerful gasp of shock forced it all out. It took a further moment for the man to recover his bearing and truly take it all in.

The deafening noise of civil defense sirens blaring all over the city; the eerily deserted streets of a once bustling metropolis, with few stragglers screaming and scurrying around to reach safety inside the nearest shelter or a biohazard-rated building; the malefic bluish mist, spreading like plague through the abandoned car-filled roads. An occasional explosion, blooming in relative distance, or a burst of automatic gunfire added to the cacophonous noise - becoming akin to a symphony of chaos to Ethan’s damaged psyche.

And as Ethan listened even closer, he could swear that he could hear a certain groaning - not that produced by a single individual, but an entire, tightly-clustered mass of them. 

Finally, seemingly carried by wind - of which there was none at the moment - came the ethereal, barely audible sound of girlish giggling.

Evie?

The bone-chilling noise and its implication stole all of Ethan’s attention, as the man so desperately attempted to discover its source, but eventually he had to give up on that task to address the inpatient voice coming from the radio in his hand.

“Ethan? Ethan, you there, buddy?”

Chris’ voice had a remarkably grounding effect on Ethan, allowing the father to realize that he was, as a matter of fact, hyperventilating, perhaps even nearing a panic attack. Focusing his attention on the radio, Ethan was swift to note that the gunfire he was hearing was actually coming from the communication device, implying that even the formidable B.S.A.A. Captain was in trouble. Yet, regardless of the calamity that had seemingly befallen New York City or the fact of their own lives being imperiled, Chris spoke with a stone-faced composure that allowed Ethan to calm his own erratic mind, though his voice still betrayed the anxiety the father felt.

“Chris? What the hell is going on?!”

The response came swift, showcasing the fact that the Captain was clearly pressed for time.

“It seems like there were some extra parts, moving in the background, which we failed to notice in time… I am afraid we got caught right in the middle of a bioterror attack, Ethan - one orchestrated by the Bloodfang.”

 

That name was enough to chill Ethan’s blood in his veins, and for good reason, too, as there were few organizations more nefarious in the whole world than the Bloodfang.

Originally a part of the New Horizon church - a new age religious movement which was born shortly after the Raccoon City Incident and gained massive, worldwide following as bioterror attacks intensified in the next decades - the Bloodfang shared its originator’s ideology - the notions that ‘humanity is the real virus’ or that the bioterror attacks were the divine retributions for men’s wasteful and sinful ways. What they didn’t share, however, was the church’s pacifistic and evolutionary ways, taking a more…proactive and revolutionary approach, instead. Far too extremist and militaristic for the church, they were eventually declared to be an anathema by the New Horizon, but that only emboldened the organization to commit ever more brazen acts of wanton terror and destruction.

Despite - or, perhaps because of - being outlawed and hunted worldwide, the Bloodfang were well-organized and extremely resourceful - with a number of major outbreaks in the last decade publicly claimed as of their own making. With no moral compass a sane human would be able to relate to and a penchant for causing chaos and violence, one would think that the Bloodfang would’ve been exterminated by the authorities quick enough, yet the shadowy terrorist group proved to be shockingly elusive and survived well into the 2020s. Even prospered, by some accounts.

The very notion of facing a Bloodfang terrorist was a nightmare for an ordinary civilian who just wanted to live his life in peace. Even for Ethan - who had survived through some truly unnatural fuckery - it was less than savory. For in a way - they were worse than his previous opposition. 

Feral B.O.W.s were more akin to enhanced wild animals than anything else. The Bakers were more or less mind-controlled and did not truly wish any harm. Dire Wolves PMC were in it just for the money and in some primal way Ethan could even relate to them. Even the masked Replica Troopers were merely programmed and ordered to kill Ethan - they haven’t truly hated him or even cared about him all that much.

But these people? They were fanatics. They hated Ethan and everything he stood for. The peaceful way of life he so craved for - to own a little cottage which he could share with his loving wife and a couple of beautiful little kids; to host grill parties with his friends; to work as a middling systems engineer and play some computer games or watch some TV shows in his free time and enjoy an occasional beach-side vacation - all this was anathema to these people; something they wished to eradicate with every fiber of their being in their wicked pursuit of their insane goals.

Ethan knew it all both from the news and his conversation on the topic with Chris, though the Captain was rarely eager to talk about such filth in his free time. One thing Ethan recalled was a particular notion Chris once postulated - that if Albert Wesker’s activities and ultimate fate were public knowledge - he would indubiously become their hero and a martyr for their cause. Ethan knew enough of that vile man to have a clue about what kind of people would worship him.

In a way, the closest comparison to Bloodfang Ethan could make was the Priestess Miranda, his most bitter foe. But even Miranda had a goal Ethan could relate to, even if her methods went far beyond merely extreme and woefully destructive. 

 

And now they are here… Ethan couldn’t help but ponder whether it was some kind of cosmic coincidence or was the Connections behind the Bloodfang all along and now used them as their final trump card in their last ditch effort to eliminate the overwhelming evidence against them?

Somehow, the man felt like the truth leaned towards the latter and Chris’ next words all but confirmed it.

“The fuckers had to have municipal support to pull something like this off… but I just don’t understand how is it possible that they managed to get their hands on C-Virus…”

Another term that did nothing calming for Ethan’s state of mind. C-Virus. Perhaps he was not hallucinating all that groaning and giggling, after all. The fear came back to gnaw on his heart, but Ethan was not afraid for himself anymore - the very notion that his loved ones were in such mortal danger was unbearable. He had agreed to see this folly to its end to ensure their safety, not to put them in even bigger peril!

“What about Bela and Daniela? Are they back with you, Chris? Did they make it back to HQ?” 

The question was softly spoken, in a way that showed that Ethan was afraid of the answer. And the pause that followed did nothing to assuage the man’s fears.

 

“Delta Team made it to HQ… We’ve lost all contact with Charlie Team.”

 

Chris’ words felt akin to an executioner’s ax to Ethan’s senses. Daniela was a part of Delta and Bela was in Charlie. Lost..?

“Bad news doesn't end there, I am afraid. A C-Virus bomb was detonated in the vicinity of HQ, implying the possibility that the Bloodfang are aware of it and might be making their move toward it as we speak.”

Chris’ spoken implication that Rose herself might be in danger forced Ethan to take a step back from his previous instinct to abandon everything and hurl himself at Charlie Team’s last known location - the U.S. permanent Mission to the U.N. - to search for Bela.

Giving voice to his panicky thoughts, Ethan all but screamed into the radio, “Are you back at HQ, Chris?!” 

The noises of gunfire, explosions and - most definitely inhuman - roars preceded the answer coming from the radio, “No… these bastards hit us hard at the U.N. building - they’ve got B.O.W.s, too. They were waiting for us.”

“Goddammit..!” mouthed Ethan, terrified for his baby girl, “Can’t you get National Guard there!?” tried the father, desperation plain in his voice.

“No. They are only concerned about quarantining the affected areas - as is their job. We are on our own - at least for the next several hours.”

Suddenly, before Ethan could inquire further, a roar of an explosion came from the other side of the radio, followed by static. The line was dead.

“Fuck!”

“What the hell do we do now!?” fearfully inquired the pilot, clearly out of his depth. Likewise, Dion merely gazed Ethan’s way, seemingly content to let the experienced survivor that was Ethan Winters to assume control of their ragtag group.

 

For a couple of seconds, Ethan merely gaped around, as erratic and conflicting thoughts rushed in his head. He was not used to being in a position of authority, especially in times of crisis, with real lives on the line. But he was a lone wolf no longer and somehow the man soon found himself ready to step up to the task at hand. 

Several more seconds were used to assess the situation, with Ethan first longingly gazing to the south - where Bela and Chris still were. He could see the fires blooming and the bluish mist thick there. Gulping in anxiety, the father tried one more time to contact his adopted daughter, hoping that she would be able to reassure him of Bela’s state.

Evie? 

Evie, honey, please… tell me that Bela is alright…

There was no response whatsoever from the ghastly girl who came to be a stalwart companion to the weary father in the last month that had seen so many things change. The man felt unwelcome wetness starting to gather at his eyes as grim thoughts assaulted his mind. Two people he cared about… two people he had come to love - and he had no fucking idea where they were now or if they even were still alive. And the worst thing - he could do nothing for them, as Bela’s last known location was simply too far away for him to blindly rush to; while Eveline’s whole existence was beyond him by default.

Bela is the most resourceful person I know… she has to be alright! And Evie is probably just sleeping… but Rose is in danger! I have to help her!

Finding some comfort in the notion of Bela’s resourcefulness, Ethan was resolute to get back to his Rose first and foremost. Glancing to the east, he could easily spot Ed Koch Queensboro Bridge looming ahead of the building they found themself on top of. They were not that far from the anti-Connections Task Force’s HQ - which was an inconspicuous building right in front of the Rockefeller University. In fact, Ethan could see the university’s campus peeking behind some other tall buildings in between them.

Normally, that would be considered a quick and simple walking distance by Ethan, yet as he gazed down into the misty streets below… or the shapes shuffling through it, the man found himself not so sure that this would be a distance easy to cross. Yet one thing he was sure of - his determination to do whatever it takes to keep his child safe. 

 

“I am going down there.”

 

Ethan’s voice did not betray the inner turmoil the father was feeling in this moment, inspiring his comrades to raise their heads to gaze at him with disbelief. The pilot appeared particularly unhappy about Ethan’s proposition.

“What!? That’s suicide! We should sit tight and wait for the National Guard or B.S.A.A. to move in!”

Ethan could only grit his teeth in frustration, but after taking a deep breath, the weary father approached the pilot, read his name on his tag and spoke from his heart, “Look, Mike, I appreciate you flying us out of there, but that’s my daughter who is in danger there! I can’t wait for the help to arrive! Feel free to sit this one out.”

“I am coming along, Ethan.” Dion’s voice did not allow Mike to even respond, but Ethan had already forgotten about him, giving a grim smile to the red headed Hound Wolf, instead. Seems like the young man was a true glutton for punishment, eagerly marching from one hellhole into another, regardless of risks involved or his lack of personal stake in it.

“Thanks, brother.” Ethan spoke with genuine gratitude in his voice, before giving the younger man a solid handshake - which he returned with gusto, while giving his trademark carefree smile, as if they were not surrounded by death and horror of biological warfare.

“What about them, though?” inquired Dion, while motioning his hand at Karl and Cassandra. The former appeared utterly drained, and it was clearly just a matter of time until the Lord would finally succumb to his exhaustion. The latter, however…

Ethan could not see her face, as it was obstructed by her matted and bloodied locks of hair, but he could see the signs of her continued awareness in her tense posture and clenched fists. And even in her diminished state, the middle Dimitrescu sibling positively radiated malice, making the next words that left Ethan’s mouth lack the firmness the man had hoped to put in them.

“This building has to have an emergency shelter. We could leave them there and Mike here will make sure they are taken care of.”

Upon hearing that, the FBI pilot opened his mouth in protest, as taking care of two murderous mutants was most definitely not in his job description. Before he could voice his ire at the thankless task that was suddenly heaped upon his shoulders a vicious scoff forced the gang to focus their attention on their sole female companion once again.

Cassandra had not moved an inch from her spot on top of the ventilation duct, but murderous intent was as plain as dying daylight in her whole posture. Likewise, her voice was positively laced with menace.

 

“Leave me behind? Surely you jest, Ethan Winters.

 

Her quietly-spoken words sent shivers of fright rushing down Ethan’s spine, as the man was all too keen to recall the inhuman sadism and unbridled violence that lurked beneath Cassandra’s feminine exterior. 

Not allowing him to respond, the brunette vampire stood up, perhaps too fast for her battered frame, as a hiss of pain was swift to remind the men about the gruesome injuries she had sustained not too long ago. Still, perhaps Cassandra was as good in taking pain as she was in giving it, and after a momentary pause to take a deep breath, proceeded to brush her hair away from her face - allowing her companions to take a look at her weary, yet still piercing amber orbs.

“Cass…” feebly tried Ethan, all too aware of the numerous deep wounds still pockmarking Cassandra’s bloodied body, but the Dimitrescu scion would have none of his pity - as much was said by the cruel sneer and pointed glare, directed his way, even before her spoken words confirmed it.

What.” The fire of determination burned bright in her eyes. “I can still fight.” 

Ethan was not convinced. It was not a walk in the park they were going for, after all and what would happen if Cassandra - weakened as she was - was to perish in the upcoming hostilities? What would he tell Bela then? That he couldn’t hold her hot-headed sister back and her death was on him? “You’re wounded, Cass.” The obvious statement was accompanied by a half-hearted motion of his hand, meant to underline the sorry state of the middle Dimitrescu sibling, yet Cassandra took it as her cue to prove him wrong. 

Letting out a huff of indignation, the brunette woman marched right up to Ethan, invading his private space in her typical, nonchalant fashion; her eyes burning holes in his own, all the while. Once again, as their noses were all but touching, Ethan became uncomfortably aware that the brunette vampire had a couple of inches on him - the fact Cassandra was just as aware of, as she held her head high, while glaring down at him.

“You bastard. Those are my sisters down there. This is my mother down there.” Nobody could deny the conviction in these simple sentences, not even Ethan, who responded with nothing but a muffled gulp. But Cassandra was not done yet, as she glared at the slightly shorter man with challenge and borderline derision.

“Do you honestly think that any weak little man-thing could keep me away from them, when they need me the most?!” There was this derogatory term Cassandra hasn’t used in a while, accompanied by a scolding glare that would’ve sent a lesser man cowering under its intensity.

Ethan knew that to continue arguing would be more than just fruitless - it would be most harmful. Once again, the brunette woman assumed the role that was the cornerstone of her whole existence - that of the protector of the Dimitrescu family. She was happy to lay her life on the line for those she cared for. Moreover, Ethan was swift to realize that it was an open challenge in her burning orbs right now - for him. If he was to scorn her status as the guardian by dismissing her as unfit for combat he would not only lose all the painstakingly earned rapport with Cassandra but also earn himself a bitter foe. And he had enough of these already.

This was not an argument he could win, but even in his defeat, Ethan found a measure of solace - for few people were as reliable in a fight as was Cassandra Dimitrescu, as he came to know. Even wounded as she was, few humans would be able to match her ferocity or strength.

I guess I’ll just have to do my damndest to make sure you stay alive, Cass…

Resolved, the man found himself able to meet her heated glare head on,“Alright, Cass.” His lips relaxed into a small smile. “You win.”

Cassandra’s face remained locked in that combative expression, as she took great pains to scrutinize his own for any signs of dishonesty or deceit. Finding none, the bloodied woman was finally able to relax her sharp features before breaking into a cheeky smirk of her own. Letting out a subdued chuckle, Cassandra produced a characteristically cocky statement, “I always win.” and proceeded to tentatively move - as if testing her own capability to do so - towards the still frame of her uncle, while mouthing, “Let’s get uncle to that shelter and get moving already!”

“What about all your injuries…” meekly tried Ethan, once again motioning to the vast array of deep gashes across Cassandra’s body, only for her to gleefully wave it all away. To Ethan’s eyes, it appeared that the wounds were crippling at the very least, yet clearly Cassandra herself thought otherwise.

“Tis but a scratch!”

The shocking statement, produced in a cheeky tone, was a startling contrast to the otherwise gloomy atmosphere that settled around them. Somehow, that upbeat boast served to invigorate the waning spirits of the present company. It was hard to remain nonchalant when confronted by such an unyielding spirit - spitting in the face of the overwhelming odds. 

Ethan senses his face relaxing in a small smile, while Dion actually lets out a subdued chuckle. Cassandra herself, however, clearly was anxious to get back on track, as she attempted to lift Karl’s body - normally something that would’ve been a trivial task for the inhumanly powerful mutant, yet with her strength sapped by her ordeal, the struggle was plain to see. The dead-weight that was Karl’s unmoving shape implied that the Lord was finally out and Ethan found himself hoping that he would yet see that arrogant man’s trademark smirk again. After all this nightmare was done and over, hopefully.

Not waiting for any prompts, Dion rushed to assist the weakened brunette vampire - Cassandra accepting his help with no complaints, other than a sour expression on her face - and together they managed to lift Heisenberg by his arms. Before they started moving, however, Cassandra let out one more quip, this time directed at the poor FBI pilot that was stuck with the gang of misfits.

“I trust that you’ll keep my uncle safe, won’t you, Mike ?”  The question was spoken in a perfectly neutral tone, save for the name - which was hissed out with undisguised malice. 

Mike stuttered a bit, but hurried to take his place behind the duo, before offering a reassurance to the vicious brunette, “You can count on me, ma’am.”

In response, Cassandra did not even look at the man, while speaking in a pleasant tone that belied the cruel words, “Good! It’s your head on the line, if anything is to happen to him, after all.” 

Everyone present knew that she was not joking and Ethan could not blame Mike for going pale in the face. Cassandra Dimitrescu was one of the most intimidating women Ethan had ever met, and that quality was hardly smoothed by her currently blood-soaked and gore-splattered exterior. Therefore, nobody present judged Mike for the audible gulp the man let out as a response to the caring niece’s open threat and the trio departed the rooftop in silence, with Dion leading the way, as the Hound Wolf operative was likely familiar with generic modern building planning and knew the possible location of a civilian shelter.

 

Ethan, however, hangs back for a moment to take a glance at the scene of devastation, one more time.

Fires burning in the distance, the noises of gunfire and explosions to accompany it. Right under him were the deserted streets and abandoned cars. Creeping, bluish mist engulfing the area - eating it piece by piece, like an insatiable beast. A menacing blood-red sunset, promising the imminent departure of natural light, only added to the grim picture. Gloomy black clouds seemingly reflected the city’s overall mood and the sense of doom. Moreover, with visibility being as poor as it was, it turned out to be a real struggle to catch even a glimpse of the water surrounding Manhattan, much less the urban landscape beyond it - lending the illusion of being isolated from the larger world, only serving to unnerve Ethan further.

The morbid atmosphere was completed by the sounds - or more precisely - the lack of them, considering the location. The screams and yells that followed the initial outbreak have subsided completely, alongside the emergency sirens, now being replaced by the automated loudspeakers, monotonously repeating pre-recorded instructions. 

As far as Ethan’s eyes could see and ears could hear, New York City appeared dead - it was hard to even imagine that this was a bustling metropolis, a mere hour ago. Yet Ethan knew better than to believe that the entire population that had called the affected region of Manhattan home perished.

In the wake of the international crisis imposed by the ever-present threat of bioterror the civilian architecture saw numerous adjustments forced upon its established patterns. Most modern high-traffic buildings now incorporated a specialized shelter area and the civilian population was well drilled in its usage. Chances were high that even as Ethan beheld nothing but empty streets, the majority of the locals found refuge in such shelter, even if they were likely filled to capacity.

Within hours, the National Guard, assisted by B.S.A.A. reinforcements would start reclaiming Manhattan, block by block, but for now, everyone inside the borough was on their own as the quarantine was likely already in full effect. And Ethan knew full well that they had no time to wait for outside help.

No more time to waste…

Giving one more longing glance towards the U.N. headquarters, Ethan hurried to rejoin his comrades. While his heart bled for Bela and his mind was overcome with worry for Eveline, the lone father had only one substantial goal he could focus his efforts towards - protecting Rose.

His precious daughter was in danger and he’d be damned if he allowed these fuckers to touch one blonde hair on her precious head. He could only hope that Daniela, Tom and whatever federal or B.S.A.A. agents at the HQ would hold out before the so-called Bravo Team would get there.

Rosie needs me…

With that thought powering him, the father was ready to face whatever horrors awaited - whether men, machine or monster.

 

Just as was about to enter the building through the roof access, a peculiar silhouette at the very edge of his peripheral vision caught his attention. Turning his head around in interest, Ethan saw nobody other than him present on this roof. Still, a sudden chill caused goosebumps to appear on his skin. Feeling unnerved, but not willing to waste any more time on tricks of the mind, Ethan proceeded to return his gaze to the roof access, only to freeze in abject terror.

A girl, about Eveline’s age stood there - in fact, Ethan could mistake her for Eveline - as she had the same long black locks of hair, partially obscuring her face, except he had never seen the aforementioned ghostly girl in such a bright red dress before.

Before he could glimpse more details, however, the natural instinct to blink his eyes from the intensity of such a powerful and unexpected stimulus forced him to do just that.

A blink of an eye, and she was gone like the wind, leaving the frantic man glancing around himself in a fruitless attempt to locate the girl in a red dress. A disembodied giggle - just like the one he thought he had heard earlier - seemingly coming from every direction at once was the only reward for his efforts, causing nervous sweat to start beading on his forehead.

Ethan had no idea who that person was, or if she was even real - or just a product of his overloaded mind and rampaging imagination; but one thing was clear to him - this phantom was not Eveline.

Suddenly, rejoining his comrades as soon as possible seemed like a particularly sound idea for more than just resuming their journey. Somehow, the idea of being alone with that… thing was simply unbearable to Ethan’s mind and the father heedlessly rushed inside the building, desperate to rejoin his friends.

 

***

 

Daniela wasn’t sure what exactly was going on, but her keen senses were kind enough to inform her that it wasn’t anything particularly good.

Sirens blaring, people screaming and fleeing indoors, some kind of bluish mist spreading… truly, Daniela did not need to employ her title as the most perceptive of Dimitrescu to be able to put two and two together. An outbreak? Here? Now?

Thankfully, their sealed vehicle managed to make it to the building they used as HQ in their anti-Connection operations unscathed, though Daniela did spot several humans collapsing after inhaling a lungful of that bluish mist.

Entering the center of operations, the redhead couldn’t help but ponder aloud.

“Could we have helped them…?”

Catherine - the B.S.A.A. field agent that had provided first aid to the battered Dimitrescu sibling during their trip from their mission - gazed at the redhead with genuine empathy plain in her brown eyes.

“We couldn’t have done anything for them, Dani… It’s the goddamn C-Virus… we are just not equipped to handle something like this…”

This short moment of comradery over shared empathy evoked conflicting feelings in Daniela. On one hand, she drew no small amount of joy from being referred to in such a casual - almost friendly - way. On another, the notion that it was all built on a lie made the youngest Dimitrescu nibble on her lip. Naturally, Catherine did not know the true identity of Daniela - almost nobody involved in this large-scale operation did. 

The official story behind the Dimitrescu family was that they were all victims of the Connections - abducted and experimented upon; turned into B.O.W.s against their will, yet able to regain their humanity and now seeking revenge against their former tormentors. 

A neat little story, which Daniela herself helped to invent, which portrayed them all in sympathetic light and allowed this inter-agency task force to function properly. Of course, all the grisly details about Dimitrescu’s harrowing body count or their history of man-hating and blood-drinking ways were left unsaid.

And now, Daniela couldn’t help but wonder whether Catherine would even deign to talk to her, if she knew the full truth of her past. Would this seemingly kind-hearted woman, who genuinely wanted to make the world a better place, be horrified by Dimitrescus' unfathomable crimes and blood-soaked past? Would Catherine hate her? Would she attempt to exterminate her, despite the standing orders to the contrary?

This series of theoretical questions briefly plagued Daniela’s erratic mind, before the vampiric girl could reassess control of her own fleeting thoughts and focus them on her already existing issues.

We are already in plenty of trouble… I don’t need to make even more.

First things first - Daniela was determined to check up on her mother. Cradling the unconscious and collared body of Sarah close to her chest, the redhead proceeded towards the apartment that was occupied by Alcina and Rose, not missing the belligerent glare shot her way by Catherine. The B.S.A.A. agent’s mouth opened slightly - as if to offer a word of protest about Daniela not handling the mutated child over immediately - before closing shut again. In turn, Daniela offered the woman a small smile - genuinely happy about not getting into confrontation over Sarah’s current custodianship, which the youngest Dimitrescu was determined to keep, at least for a while.

While, during their brief acquaintance, she found Catherine to be a pleasant and empathetic individual, Daniela was resolute to keep her newfound charge safe and that meant that she would only trust Sarah’s fate to Chris Redfield, and only after the man would deliver her a solemn promise that Sarah would be treated with kindness and compassion - just like every child deserves to be.

Mama will love her…

 

The apartment building Daniela was making her way through now, once upon a time housed numerous perfectly average families. Several years ago, however, a large number of mysterious deaths that occurred inside drove the rest of fearful tenants out. After the official investigation, the obscure tragedy was blamed on an accident  - much like the ‘gas-leak explosion’ that brought infamy to Dulvey.

When Daniela - ever curious - had inquired about the nature of the ‘accident’, all she received was a noncommittal shrug from Chris and an enigmatic “Who knows?” from Leon. Bela had only snickered at her youngest sister’s unbridled curiosity, making Daniela huff and puff in overly-dramatic indignation. Alcina then proceeded to gently pat her red hair, while mumbling that sometimes ignorance is bliss, and Daniela decided to let the mystery rest… for now.

Regardless of Daniela’s musings, nowadays, the entire property was government owned and served as a site for their less than public activities, and for the last three days - as the HQ for the anti-Connections Task Force, which saw B.S.A.A. working together with the U.S. Government, as well as some less savory elements, such as the Duke’s faction and the Dimitrescu family themselves.

And now, as the chaos dominated the entire premises - with agents running amok while screaming indecipherable gibberish into their phones - Daniela felt the rest of her good mood evaporating swiftly. True, she had succeeded in her own task, but what of her family? What of dearest Bela, Cassandra and Ethan? As she finally made it to apartment #601, she hoped that at least her beloved mother would be able to dispel her worries.

 

Instead, even more mayhem awaited her inside the minimally-renovated and drab apartment. The first thing Daniela couldn’t help but direct her entire focus was the heart-piercing sobbing coming from the living room. It was unmistakably Rose’s and the little girl was already a beloved niece in Daniela’s eyes, so it was not a surprise that the emotive redhead immediately desired to comfort the tiny Winters.

Entering the bland-looking living room with peeling wallpapers, Daniela let out a gasp of distress as she finally spotted the source of sobbing. Rose was sitting on Alcina’s lap and crying her eyes out, while occasionally calling out for Eveline. In turn, Alcina did her best to comfort the child by gently patting her back and whispering sweet nothing into her ears, providing at least some solace for the poor child. Meanwhile, Tom, who also happened to be in the room, was listening intently to the communication device in his ear, with his gaze erratically jumping from the huddling pair on the sofa to the window.

At the young man’s presence, Daniela’s heart immediately experienced a measure of relief. Just like dear Ethan, Tom was able to peer beyond their monstrous veneer and see the deeply troubled, but perhaps, worthy of salvation individuals. Truly, the Duke’s lieutenant was a person with a big heart, and to see him here, with her beloved mother in their hour of need, offered no shortage of comfort to Daniela’s moldy heart.

In turn, the relief was palpable as Tom glanced at the doorway and spotted Daniela herself, “Dani! Thank God you’re alright!”

The genuine emotion Daniela could easily hear in Tom’s voice caused peculiar, yet not unpleasant prickling all over her skin. From his gaze, that was filled with worry and - dare she think - affection, Daniela sensed her toes curling in her shoes. It felt good to know that someone worried over her fate; that someone cared about her.

Staring into his beautiful soft green eyes, Daniela had to wonder if that was the color that once upon a time belonged to her, as well. Green suits me… does it not? Suddenly, the redhead just had to note that this kind and caring man happened to be quite handsome - even while realizing just how wildly inappropriate such a line of thoughts was in their current predicament. But the youngest Dimitrescu was a creature of spontaneous emotion who lived in the moment and therefore, she couldn’t help herself as a slight pink tint colored her pale cheeks. Only her mother addressing her allowed Daniela to return from her rich inner world of fantasies to that dark and gloomy reality of theirs.

“Daniela, my precious baby girl! Words cannot describe the worry I felt over you, my beautiful darling!”

Turning around to gaze at the couch, Daniela felt her own worries return twofold, as she beheld her beloved mother huddling with Rose - the tiny girl’s eyes were raw and red. Still, even though whatever troubles Rose remained, the child also seemed to find some comfort in the redhead’s presence, as she mumbled out a weak but heartfelt greeting, “Dani…”

Even despite the turmoil raging within, Daniela attempted to project her typical carefree and cheerful front - in a bid to reassure and placate both her mother and her niece-to-be. She needed to be strong for them in this time of uncertainty. Without Bela or Cassandra around, she was the eldest daughter - the pillar of strength this family so desperately needed.

“Heya, mama! Never worry about little old me! And Rose - I know not what troubles you, but rest assured that any trouble can be overcome!”

Having let out what were hopefully encouraging words, Daniela moved to stand before them, eager to introduce their newest friend. For surely Sarah would become their friend, once whatever mental conditioning and obedience training the Connections imposed upon the poor child wore off, right?

“And this is Sarah!” The situation was a little bit awkward, considering the fact that Sarah herself was still incapacitated and collared like a wild beast - not to mention the overall mess they happened to find themselves in, but Daniela tried to make the best out of the situation, nevertheless. Letting out an awkward giggle, the redhead continued in a joyous tone that was just a bit forced, “She is a little bit… indisposed right now, but I am sure we will be the greatest of friends in no time! Poor Rosie must have missed having kids closer to her age around!”

At their dumbstruck silence, Daniela launched into a fit of awkward laughter that was soon interrupted by an explosion - coming from right outside their apartment building.

“Shit!”

The explosion was immediately succeeded by the violent shuddering of the whole apartment complex, causing both Daniela and Tom to lose their footing. While Tom managed to catch himself at the last moment by finding some support from the nearby windowsill, Daniela had no such luck. To avoid harming Sarah, the redhead moved with the motion that saw her plop right on her buttocks, while keeping the child close to her chest in a protective embrace.

“Ouch!”

Before either Tom or Daniela could regain their footing, the noises and flashes of gunfire broke through the darkness of the misty evening, causing an annoyed sneer to sprout on Daniela’s bloodied face.

When will it all end?

Tom attempted to carefully peer into the window, while trying to yell over the thundering roar of automatic gunfire, “It must be the culprits behind the outbreak! How the fuck could they know about this place?!”

Alcina glared at the young man with clear disapproval in her gaze - the woman was notoriously strict when it came to foul language, and that particular quality was only intensified by the presence of little Rose in her own protective embrace. Still, after considering the extraordinary circumstances, the noble lady likely wisely decided not to scold him over it right now.

“There are so many of them…” continued Tom, unaware of how close he came to the scolding of his life, courtesy of Lady Dimitrescu. Unfortunately, someone must have caught on the light inside their apartment, as a high-powered round whizzed right through the closed window and the apartment’s space, only to vanish somewhere deep within the dirty wall on the other side of the room. 

With a yelp of pain that was lost amidst the noise of the shattered glass, Tom tumbled to the floor and Daniela’s heart leapt to her throat from fright for this kind young man, fearing the worst. Her keen vampiric senses were quick to catch the scent of freshly spilled man-blood and to her great shame the desire to feed immediately reared its unwelcome head inside of her. Still, it took less than a second for Daniela to momentarily suppress her inner beast and allow her human side to let out a worried cry.

“Tom!”

Thankfully, it appeared that the man suffered a mere glancing hit, with the bullet tearing off only a portion of his left ear’s helix. Beyond that, a number of glass fragments were embedded in his skin, but there were no major wounds as far as Daniela could see. “Stay away from the windows!” was the first thing that left the injured man’s lips, showing that his concern over the occupants of this room exceeded the one he had for himself. “I am okay, I think…”

Crawling away from the window and getting up to be on his knees, Tom proceeded to carefully inspect his newest injury with two deft fingers, while remaining blissfully unaware of the predatory stare he was treated to.

Again, Daniela simply couldn’t help it as two parts of her split off. One was deathly worried for her dear friend and wanted to leap to engulf him in a comforting hug - snipers be damned. 

Another, far more feral side of Daniela, eyed his bloodied ear greedily, lusting to get a taste. They were close enough for the delicious smell to hit her nostrils, forcing the redheaded woman to do her best to suppress the sudden craving to salivate in bestial desire, for it smelt so fucking good. Fresh, youthful, healthy man-blood. The sight of it, trickling down his neck, alongside his suddenly very conspicuous carotid artery - that all but begged her to bite in - was almost enough to drive her into a violent frenzy as the beast within asked for its due. No… it did not ask - it demanded . And just like before, it sought to gain its way to be the dominant presence in their shared body through Daniela’s weaknesses - her fear and indecisiveness. Certainly, a decade ago it would’ve easily assumed control and would already be digging in. Maybe, a year ago it would have succeeded with some struggle. Perhaps, even a mere month ago she would’ve lost herself to the red haze and pounced upon her dear friend.

 

No! Fuck off! Sit down and wait your turn!

 

Daniela was not a scared little girl anymore. All the trials and tribulation that followed Miranda’s demise and their exodus from Romania had hardened her will. But it was Ethan who had taught her to believe that she could remain in control. The experience that had followed served to confirm the notion and now Daniela knew that even that feral creature deep inside of her could be tamed. All she had to do was show no fear. No hesitation. 

 

Away with you, pest!

 

Unable to find its way in, the beast growled but retreated back into the depth of her psyche.

Just as Daniela had reassessed control of her own body and the red haze retreated from her vision, Tom had finished his brief examination of his injury. Still on his knees - wisely not exposing himself to the sniper’s line-of-sight - Tom smirked her way and let out a surprisingly cocky, “It’s just a scratch.”

The young man appeared unaware of the inner conflict that just took place within Daniela and she was only too happy to keep it that way, so she responded with a situation-inappropriate giggle as well as an honest observation, “Now you sound just like Cassi!”

“Somehow being compared to your older sister just boosted my machismo levels.” quipped Tom in return, and Daniela couldn’t help but let a hearty laugh out. In turn, Alcina and Rose all but gaped at the two young people - still crouching on the floor - bloodied and bruised, surrounded by mayhem but still engaging in easy banter. In a way, this show of carefree chatter helped give everyone present encouragement they needed to keep their composure in these trying times. Perhaps this display of playful nonchalance was exactly what the weary matriarch and the innocent child craved.

Regardless, the joyous mood didn’t take - Tom’s expression hardened as someone spoke into his headset in an urgent tone.

More ill tidings?” Alcina was not amused at the seemingly endless barrage of trials fate seemed to be hell-bent on hurling her way. Her daughters deserved better than this, and she would’ve done everything to keep them out of harm's way. If only I had my strength back… I would carve all these miscreants up myself…

Likewise, Tom was clearly unhappy about being the bearer of bad news for the Duke’s oldest and most valuable client, but few problems ever got solved by keeping quiet about them, and this one most definitely wouldn’t be.

“They are already inside the building - entrenching themselves in the underground parking lot…” Tom paled as he was continuously being updated on the situation by an operator from the security room, “setting up a device of some kind… likely a viral dispersal unit.”

“Uhm… that sounds bad.” stated the obvious Daniela, while nervously nibbling on her nails - no longer capable of projecting even fake cheer. Unknowingly to either Tom or Daniela, they both secretly hoped that Chris, Ethan, Bela or other returning forces would be arriving soon to provide relief against these aggressors, but now that illusion was shattered and both of them realized that no cavalry was coming and they would have to fight tooth and nail for their survival. 

Just to drive that point home, Tom muttered his confirmation of Daniela’s previous statement. 

“Bad is an understatement…” the man waved his hand in the direction of the street, where low-hanging viral mist reigned supreme, “A single viral bomb these guys used was able to cover multiple city blocks.” Tom let that thought sink in for a second, before continuing, “I’d imagine that exploding it in a confined space would force pressurized virus through every hole and crack; in concentrations high enough to eat through any kind of personal protection we have here on hand…”

Even as Tom spoke, his mind worked on overdrive - thinking of a way, any way - to get them out of this mess in one piece. He desperately wished for Millie to be here with him. Even disregarding her ferrokinetic abilities, the young woman had a bright tactical mind and could swiftly concoct plans on the spot. A perfect addition to his own strategic mindset - which was normally a boon, but woefully inadequate for this crisis at hand that demanded a swift and decisive resolution. But of course, Millie was in a hospital, in a comatose state, with future uncertain. This was no longer her fight.

“Nobody inside would survive, I’d wager,” grimly concluded Tom, before trading glances with everyone present inside the apartment#601, carefully wiping a stray tear shedded for the fate of his adopted sister and amending his last thought, “nobody human, anyway…” 

That line between humanity and what was known as bio-organic weapons was painfully obvious to some, unbearably blurry to others, with Tom himself occupying middle ground. And while, admittedly, some part of him was actually curious - in a morbid kind of way - about which current occupant of apartment#601 could get a lungful of C-Virus and walk away, this was not a test he was happy to have imposed upon his clients… his friends

But what could he - a simple human - do to prevent it? The enemy combatants were clearly well-equipped, numerous and determined - the brutal assault out of nowhere was a confirmation enough of that. Even as he sat here on his knees, 7 floors below him they were already setting up their viral dispersal unit - which could be activated in as little as several minutes from now on. Entrenched and well-armed as these enemies were, who could stop them? Most of those present inside the building were non-combatants, support staff that was never meant to fight for their lives. The vast majority of field agents of both B.S.A.A. and FBI were out in the field right now, likely fighting their own battles - with just a token reserve force and a couple of guards left behind in the HQ. There was no escaping either - not with seemingly numerous snipers just waiting for them to be foolish enough to try.

 

They were trapped; outgunned, outmatched and running out of time.

 

Seemingly at their own volition, Tom’s gaze connected with that of Daniela. Soft viridian met softer yet amber. And as much as he hated to impose any more strife upon this beautiful creature that has suffered so, so much already, Tom knew that she was the only person who could save them all. Out of everyone present inside the anti-Connection’s Task Force HQ, only Daniela Dimitrescu possessed the speed, strength and resilience necessary to stop the detonation in time.

Before he could even find the strength needed to voice his unfair request, Tom was stunned into silence as her soft amber eyes hardened into piercing orbs, filled with burning determination.

 

“I’ll stop them.”

 

There was no boastful bravado in her tone, neither was it filled with her typical carefree cheer. Instead, it was spoken with a resolute voice of one who was prepared to sacrifice it all for those she called her family, tempered by resigned comprehension of the fact that she was the only one in a position to even try to do so.

Immediately Tom opened his mouth to offer his assistance - in whatever capacity his mortal flesh would allow him to - but Daniela did not give him a chance to do so, as she fearlessly stood up and dashed to Alcina’s couch.

The youngest Dimitrescu placed the child she was cradling all this time next to Alcina and Rose, all the while her pointed glare swiftly moving from Tom to Alcina and back was enough of a dissuasion to his potential offer of aid, as the message in her eyes was clear, even if it was unspoken.

Please, take care of them. 

Quickly placing a single kiss on the forehead of her beloved mother and not waiting for any response, Daniela assumed the shape that was her birthright and, with only the buzzing of black chitin to accompany her, was gone.

Notes:

So sorry for such a lengthy delay!

I admit, throughout the majority of this story, I had a clear path forward thought out, several chapters in advance; knowing exactly what will happen next. But for the last chapters, with so many moving parts in the works, I struggled greatly coming with a proper resolution that would both treat every character fairly, not appear too rushed or too prolonged and will also not be too anti-climatic.

As I worked on this chapter, the way forward slowly became clearer, as poorer options were dismissed and better once refined and now I can hopefully say that I am finally back on track, though there are still some blurry spots. (especially in terms of the much-awaited Bela/Mia confrontation).

I did take some artistic liberties in this chapter with world building, organizations and locations involved, but I hope nothing is glaring to the point of breaking the suspension of disbelief - if it is, please do let me know! :) Overall, after all the time needed for this chapter, I am actually quite happy with how it came out, but of course, what the reader thinks is more important to me :)

On a small chance that you haven't read Sylv's Blood and Winter - you should totally considering doing that! That work is a masterpiece that provides continuous inspiration for me. If you have enjoyed the introspective moments I've had in this chapter, that was pretty much inspired by that work and the latest chapters in it. Even though Bela is a pretty nice person overall in this story, I've wanted for a while to portray her darker side and I am glad to finally have done that. <3 SylvesterM

Anyway, sorry for the lengthy author's note, I guess I got lonely not talking with any of you guys for a while, haha :) As always, any kind of feedback is greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading and have an amazing week!

Chapter 43: The Beauty and the Beast

Notes:

This chapter contains a lot of graphic depictions of violence.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Daniela Dimitrescu was not a skilled warrior.

She never mastered the ‘art’ of butchering humans - for it was an art, according to Cassandra and ruefully acknowledged as such by Bela. The skill and force needed to enact swift kills, or else the precision and patience that was required to prolong one’s suffering - none of it was Daniela’s forte. Whenever she happened to spill the life-blood of a human, it was invariably a messy affair that earned mockery from Cassandra, silent scorn from Bela and scoldings from Alcina - who so hated having her expensive carpets soiled.

Daniela Dimitrescu was not a cold-blooded murderer.

She never derived sadistic joy from the act of life-taking, unlike her dear sister Cassandra. Nor could she perform the vile deed with mechanical detachment like her eldest, Bela. For Daniela, every single kill was done either out of sick, twisted love - back when she was deluding herself into believing that her victims were happy to be slain by her; or bestial, mindless rage - which she would regret deeply, come morning.

Daniela Dimitrescu was not a vigilant protector.

For as long as she could remember, her family had always provided for her, while sheltering her from the outside world. Long ago, when Miranda had barged in, demanding the Dimitrescu family to assist her in her vile research, it was Bela who was chosen to aid Alcina in housing the Priestess' many ‘subjects’ - to be replaced by Cassandra, later on. When vengeful villagers stormed their castle for their due; when delusional adventurers or covetous treasure seekers trespassed upon their land; when an errant maid needed to be made an example of - it was always either Cassandra or Bela who stepped up to the task. Never Daniela, not the precious little Dani , who was allowed to sit every calamity out in her library - her tiny island of solace in a world of chaos.

For decades, Daniela did not need to be the warrior, the murderer and the protector, for her capable sisters were only too happy to shield her from the darkest side of their existence. 

Yet times have changed and Bela and Cassandra could no longer carry the burden of their sinful ways by themselves. Likewise, Daniela could no longer simply sit it out.

Unfortunately, when it counted the most, Daniela was not ready to step up. When the human mercenaries came for them in Cuba, Daniela was as helpless as a newborn babe and her weakness had cost them greatly. If not for Cassandra, it would’ve cost them everything.

 

It will be different today… I swear it.

As her sentient swarm made its way down the dilapidated stairway and through the squalid hallways, Daniela found herself determined to do one thing she never really cared about before. To finally step out from the tall shadows cast by her older sisters and share the heavy burden that came with the name Dimitrescu. She had not been ready in Cuba. She was ready now.

To be the warrior, the murderer, the protector.

Not out of some misguided sense of praise-seeking or desire to inflict harm, but out of necessity, Daniela was ready to lay waste to any who dared to threaten House Dimitrescu or its allies.

Just like Cassandra had taught her.

Show no mercy, for they will show none.

Just like Bela had taught her.

Do not hesitate - there will be time for remorse after the deed is done.

It did not take Daniela long to make her way to just outside the underground parking lot - indeed the swiftness of her bug-swarm would’ve made even the finest parkour athlete green with envy. 

There, in the stairway hall that separated the lot from the rest of the building was a huddling group of blurry humans. Unfortunately, while her swarm form conferred an extraordinary level of mobility and dexterity - especially in twisting confines of a building, the insect sight was lacking in its finer detail vision. Therefore, another shapeshift was in order - to be able to tell friend from foe.

From a cloud of black chitin and beating wings, came the unmistakable shape of Daniela Dimitrescu. Several gasps of shock and yelps of fright accompanied her coalescence, followed by a trio of gun-barrels swirling to point her way. 

The noble scion was still dressed in her two-piece gray suit, though it was both torn and bloodied. The pride and joy of her fashion sense - the vibrant yellow tie - was nowhere to be found, as it was discarded by her insects, deemed no longer relevant. Likewise, not a speck of her typical cheer or carefree nature could be found in Daniela’s tense posture and grim face, with even her lips - ordinarily relaxed in a friendly smile - now dead set in a thin, mirthless line.

At being the focus of an apparent act of aggression, Daniela’s mouth twisted into a vicious snarl. With her mood as dark and set on violence as it currently was, she found herself prepared to carve her way even through these people - people she had come to know in the last three days, if it came to that.

“Hold fire! That’s Dani! She is with us!”

Catherine’s voice was enough to prevent a potential friendly fire incident and all three agents at her side lowered their firearms; Daniela, likewise, relaxed her clenched fists and took in the forms of her allies, such as they were.

Catherine herself was a familiar face, since the B.S.A.A. medic was attached to Daniela’s own team - the Delta Squad. In addition to training together, the two women had spent some time bonding over a cup of coffee - or ten - with Daniela being completely enchanted by Catherine’s tales of far-away lands, as the veteran agent had traveled much both before and after her employment with the counter-bioterrorism organization.

The three men at her side were less known to Daniela, since they were from the FBI reserve force and she had a minimal amount of interaction with them, barring one notable exception. The redhead was pretty sure that one of them - the tall blonde man with strong Nordic features - referred to her and her sisters as ‘goddamn freaks’, when they passed him by, yesterday. Silly human thought they couldn’t hear him - or maybe he just didn’t care. Regardless, it took both Daniela and Bela restraining Cassandra from ‘teaching him a lesson in manners’ right then and there.

Daniela couldn’t help but smirk at this once cocky and arrogant man, who was all but shaking in his boots now, with his eyes wide as saucers in near-panic. Fear was positively radiating off his frame - only serving to invigorate the predator that hid within Daniela - eager to be let loose.

“What’s the matter? Scared?”

The mocking question left Daniela’s lips on its own volition. Under ordinary circumstances, she would’ve surprised herself at the level of sarcastic vitriol in her voice. But the scent of death and violence was thick in the air, psyching the vampire up and bringing out the darkest out of her.

“These fucking Bloodfang bastards got a bomb there!” The response came swiftly from the Nordic man, and before Daniela could inquire why they were just standing there, the second FBI agent provided the explanation for the unvoiced question.

“We tried to push them back, but they’ve got the numbers and there is just no passing this killzone they’ve established…”

“Adam and Chen are gone…” added the third agent, in a tone that was filled with both sorrow and resignation. The man was bleeding profusely from a wound in his arm and it was clear that he didn’t expect to walk out of here in one piece. 

Catherine - who was applying first aid to his arm - said nothing further, but Daniela didn’t miss the hopeful glance the brunette woman shot her way. At least someone believed in her.

“Guess it's up to a goddamn freak to handle this mess! Hilarious.” Daniela’s easy tone was betrayed by her piercing eyes, directed at the blonde man - who was not able to withstand the intensity of her gaze and turned to stare at the bloodied floor. While a certain childish part of her mind wanted to milk this situation for all it was worth, the more responsible aspect of Daniela knew that time was of the essence, so she let out a swift instruction, instead, “I’ll clean ‘em up, but I hope one of you can disarm this bomb!”

Catherine nodded her head, and that was all the confirmation Daniela needed. Not wasting a second further, the vampiric girl morphed back into her swarm form, evoking another shocked gasp from one of the men.

Understandably not wanting to test her adversary’s killzone, Daniela fluttered inside the parking lot as a thin swarm of blowflies. While she was not as proficient in directing her insects as was Bela, Daniela’s hivemind was still coherent enough for her bugs to spread out - not presenting enough of a target for the enemy to immediately open fire.

Now inside the parking lot, she could spot the blurry figures of black-clad humans - who were taking cover behind cars and pillars. There were around a dozen enemy combatants, according to Daniela’s swift headcount. The closest one soon became aware of her unnatural presence - pointing her way, and yelling, “The fuck is this?”

She would’ve smiled, if she had a mouth in that instance of time. The bloodlust that was radiating from her other self was infectious, it seemed.

 

It's finally your time! Come out and play.

 

The beast within did not need to be told twice. With its cage wide open and its leash held loose, it pounced out of its ethereal prison and assumed control of their shared, chimeric body. Daniela did not resist its intrusion - just like she did not during the confrontation with Styx the assassin. She welcomed it in, for the monster that inhabited her body since her unnatural birth was a far more prolific killer than she could ever hope to be. A reprehensible quality under most circumstances, but today - when speed of execution was paramount - a boon, which she would ruefully accept.

Now the violence could start in earnest.

Ceasing control for Daniela herself felt as if she dove underwater and now observed the world around her through a misty prism - with sights, smells and noise muffled to the point of appearing dreamlike. 

Like a lucid dream for her… and a soon-to-be waking nightmare for her enemies.

Under control of a primeval being that only knew rage and hunger, her swarm moved to cluster tightly together, becoming a swirling vortex of black chitin and buzzing wings - a truly demonic sight, if the humans’ gasps of fright were any indication.

The vortex of insects fluttered further inside the lot, only to menacingly hover right in the middle of it - surrounded by humans on all sides, and with a bulky device of some kind - likely the bomb itself - underneath it.

Suddenly, Daniela - from her aquatic-like prison - found herself all too aware of the twelve rapidly beating hearts. 

Uncertainty. Confusion. Fear. 

It was all plain for Daniela to sense, even through their body-concealing attire - from the rapid heartbeats and tense postures alone. 

These humans did not come here to face a being such as her. Unfortunate for them, since Daniela was just as aware of growing, gnawing hunger that resonated all across her hivemind, with every single blowfly that made up her superorganism being famished for man-flesh. They haven’t had a taste for a while.

Nevertheless, for whatever reason, the dark being that now controlled Daniela’s amorphous superorganism did not hurry to make the first move; likewise - the humans appeared mesmerized and merely observed the unnatural swarm.

What are you waiting for..?

The reason for the creature’s stalling became apparent as one of the humans apparently couldn’t take the tension anymore and let loose with his automatic firearm. 

As if the creature was an overwhelmed patron next to an extravagant buffet, it had been momentarily lost in selecting the first item to sample. The foolish man-thing with a loose trigger finger made the creature’s choice an easy one.

Like the rest of her senses, the painful feeling of having her swarm members permanently severed from the hivemind due to their untimely termination was somewhat dulled by the prismatic barrier. Yet Daniela still felt the sting of death… and the rage that followed along. Was it her own rage? Or purely the reflection of the frothing anger the creature felt? She couldn’t tell. Perhaps it was one and the same all along.

Regardless, the creature waited no longer. Like a blur, the swarm was upon that singular human. His heartbeat quickened immediately and the man was not shy enough to let out a muffled scream - a plea for aid, even as he flailed his arms around in a fruitless bid to drive the enraged insects away. Fortunately for him, the full-body hazmat suit he was wearing provided enough protection to render even Daniela’s flesh-eating insects impotent. 

Unfortunately for him, however, it did not hinder the creature that soon emerged from the swarm in the slightest. 

Even though Daniela’s silhouette and certain features - such as her mane of red hair - was clearly apparent amidst the buzzing swarm, the way it flickered around the assembled insects made it hard to identify as even remotely humanoid. Indeed, not a single observer to this mind-boggling transformation - neither the aggressors nor the security personnel, who observed the scene through lens of ceiling-mounted cameras - could precisely identify where the feral-looking red headed woman ended and the vicious bug-monster began.

Does a cat lose sleep over the worries of how a mouse perceives it, however? Naturally, the dark creature itself could not care less about how it appeared to its food . Not when the rushing blood it so desired was right there - underneath the black fabric of the hazmat suit and a layer of skin - both so easy to pierce to get at the intoxicating liquid held within.

Its hunger was denied for long enough. No more.

Following the torso, from the mass of black chitin, came lithe but shockingly powerful and frightfully solid arms - only to coil around the hapless human, holding him tight and preventing any attempts at escaping his imminent fate. A gaping maw, filled with sharp teeth, opened wide to let loose a savage, deafening shriek. The primal screech was so powerful that several closest humans clutched at their ears in obvious pain; multiple car alarms were triggered, while the nearest one’s windshield shattered outright.

The cacophony of noise was just a prelude to the bloody spectacle about to unfold.

 

***

 

When the ‘Viy’ crew had volunteered for a rushed mission to bomb this target of opportunity, they had expected to face some second-rate B.S.A.A. and FBI agents - desk jockeys, who could barely hold their standard issue firearms, much less provide a meaningful resistance to a band of hardened killers such as themselves.

Initially, the Bloodfang men were proven correct in their assumptions, as the first response to their incursion consisted of just six government agents who were soundly beaten back after suffering two casualties and being able to inflict none in return.

 

Now, however…?

Paralyzed by its banshee-like screech, the eleven experienced guerilla fighters could only stare aghast, as an unidentifiable creature of black chitin, pale flesh and red hair had their comrade - young, brash and trigger-happy Ajay - in its monstrous grasp. Vaguely feminine, the creature exuded nothing but lethal intent and unfathomable appetite for destruction, chilling the blood even in veteran combatants’ veins.

Before any of Ajay’s compatriots could recover from her sonic assault, the monstrous bug-woman’s natural weaponry was upon her prey. The first savage bite pierced the hardened textiles with contemptible ease, but had yet to spill blood.

Spitting the bothersome fabric away, the beast was ready for her much-anticipated meal to begin. Not wasting a single moment further, the monster sunk her teeth deep into the man’s exposed neck. As if edged on by unfathomable, inhuman hunger, the beast chomped on the mauled neck with savage glee, with blood and spittle flying in every direction. Mortally wounded, Ajay’s cries of agony morphed into a death rattle, which was met with his compatriots' yelps of dismay as they beheld his unenviable fate.

The beast was utterly apathetic to all the distress caused by her actions - her only current concern seemingly being as filling her belly full of man-flesh and man-blood, which was gushing freely from the horrid wound - creating a pressurized fountain of sanguine ichor that swiftly colored them both red.

Several precious seconds passed as the dying man’s comrades dumbly stared at the grisly feast, with their muscles seemingly frozen by the bestial savagery that was put on display.

Soon enough, however, the squad leader of ‘Viy’ - with the only visible identifying feature that set him apart from his black-clad underlings being a single red wristband on his left hand, managed to break out of his stupor and shout in accented English, “SHOOT HER, YOU MORONS!”

With their composure seemingly restored by the leader's authoritative voice, the fear-induced trance was broken. To their credit, none of them hesitated at opening fire at this monstrous woman, even though their squadmate was all but entangled with her. Some of them realized that he was as good as dead anyway, while others placed little value on each other's lives to begin with - regardless, soon both the man-eating monster and her unwitting dinner date were peppered by lead. 

Unfortunately for the Bloodfang, out of the entangled duo that was made up out of one of their own and the monstrous beast, only Ajay’s body was torn apart by the hail of gunfire. To their unbridled horror, the bug-woman’s flickering body suffered limited harm from the fast-moving projectiles, with only a cluster of insects perishing in the initial burst and the rest dispersing apart before vanishing from sight - implying that even the seemingly savage beast knew better than to subject itself to a sustained barrage. Death of a thousand cuts was not on the menu for it today… only man-flesh and man-blood.

As the ruined corpse of the Bloodfang fighter tumbled to the ground without a speck of life left in it, the rest of the humans ceased fire, only to gaze around in near-panic, since their actual target was nowhere to be seen.

“Where the hell is she!?” Fearfully inquired Namir - the closest Bloodfang to the mangled body of his deceased comrade - while swinging his automatic shotgun around wildly.

The answer to the man’s question was delivered in the most direct and brutal way possible, as hundreds of flies swarmed from underneath the black sedan the Bloodfang fighter used as cover, only to coalesce into the now-familiar humanoid figure.

“Behind you!” tried to warn his comrade - the keen-eyed Alexei - yet the warning came too late and before the bug monster’s second victim could so much as turn his head around, a flash of steel heralded another life being snuffed out.

With her dagger embedded deep into Namir’s skull, death came mercifully swift to the man. Again, the roar of automatic gunfire found its mark in nothing but their own fellow squadmate, whose lifeless body promptly collapsed on the cold floor, as the rest frantically attempted to exterminate this fearsome creature that was now hellbent on hunting them down… one by one.

The Bloodfang leader was not blind to his subordinate's rising panic. “Get away from the cars!” The command was heeded too late, as Farhad was claimed in an excruciatingly painful way. Before the crew’s sole medic could even make a step away from a gray Mazda he used as cover, a swarm of bugs - coming from underneath the vehicle - engulfed the young man in a sea of chitin. Just like before, the insects came together to coalesce into the partial form of the redheaded woman, who then unceremoniously slammed his head against the car’s hood.

Such was the force in the monstrous woman’s slim-looking arms that the devastating impact resulted in the car’s hood suffering a head-shaped indentation that reached all the way to the engine. For the man himself - an instantaneous death as his own shattered cranium pierced the brain in spots too numerous for continued existence.

The grisly display was met by gasps of mortal fear, followed by sporadic, inaccurate gunfire that met only air as the creature was gone already.

Pointing his customized assault rifle towards the monster’s last known location, Jonas couldn’t keep his mouth shut, “Holy fuck! What is this thing !?”

The Bloodfang soldier’s last question was left unanswered, as the pillar he hid behind betrayed him to the swarming silhouette. To his credit, Jonas was a veteran fighter that has survived many skirmishes and with barely human reaction speed was able to avoid the gnashing teeth that aimed at his throat. With a swift leap backwards, the experienced combatant brought his assault rifle up - fully intent to make use of its underbarrel grenade launcher, regardless of his own grim fate that would surely follow such a foolhardy attack. If he could slay this monster, his remaining comrades would be able to accomplish their goal - his life was a small price to pay.

Regardless, his attempt at going out in a blaze of glory was cut short… as was his right arm. The man had less than a second to register the sudden lack of an appendage he was born and lived his whole life with before the same farming tool that sliced it off - in an unbelievably swift slash - also made its mark on his throat - a deep, indubiously mortal gash, that left the man gurgling with darkness clouding his sight. 

Collapsing on his knees and desperately attempting to stem the fatal bleeding with his sole remaining arms, Jonas was blind to the fact that the monster lost all interest in him and dashed over and under a small minivan - only to brutally gut the crew’s sharpshooter Alexei with her cruel sickle. With his own life-blood rapidly leaving his mortal shell, Jonas was apathetic to the fact that the simple farming tool, wielded with inhuman strength, was able to easily cut through the kevlar vest Alexei wore, forcing the man to his knees as he desperately tried to stuff his intestines back where they belonged, to no avail. Even though he had promised to always take care of the younger man, the incessant ringing in his ears made Jonas deaf to Alexei dying gasps. Soon, darkness claimed them both.

Seeing his men cut down left and right by this unknowable, seemingly indestructible monstrosity made even the battle-hardened leader gulp in fright. Yet Serj had sworn a blood-oath to see this mission through and he would be damned if some bug-whore stopped them. They only needed to buy three more minutes and this whole building would be filled with concentrated C-Virus. 

He was not blind to the fact that they would not last this long at this rate… not even close. With all the cars and pillars providing cover and potential avenues of attack to this inhumanly fast creature, this parking lot was swiftly becoming a slaughterhouse.

“Fall back to VDU and form a circle!”

While few would refer to Bloodfang militia as professional military, they were well-drilled in obeying their betters since their inductions into the group - from ages as young as six for some of them. Therefore, Serj was not surprised when every remaining soldier heeded his command immediately and rushed to assume the position around the Viral Dispersal Unit that was deployed in the middle of the lot - with plenty of open space that was their best chance at deterring this superhuman predator.

The bulky device in question was something that was produced by their own, less-than-stellar, engineers and it took precious time for the machine to boil the C-Virus from its exacting safe storage temperature to optimal dispersal one.

The squad leader's satisfaction at seeing five out six of his remaining men making it to the device was cut short by witnessing the inevitable fate of the last one. The man who was his brother - not by birth, but by circumstances of their harsh, unforgiving lives - made a mistake and attempted to make his way to the safe haven, provided by their circle, in the most direct way possible - around a white pickup truck.

Keen-eyed, Serj was not blind to several blowflies inconspicuously fluttering around the vehicle in question, but his warning came too late. “Marko, wai..” - Marko had already fallen face-first onto the cold floor, courtesy of the wicked sickle being hooked into the back of his right knee. 

Too dazed to resist, but lucid enough to scream for help, “Serj, help!”, the young man was, nevertheless, dragged right underneath the truck by the monstrous force, with Serj only able to stare aghast as his brother-like figure vanished under the vehicle, until only his grasping hands, begging for salvation, remained visible.

It took all of Serj’s willpower to resist the impulse to rush to the aid of Marko. Instead the leader merely reached his own open palm in a feeble gesture of helplessness. He was sure that the horrific chomping sound, immediately followed by a tortured scream and accompanied by the sight of spurting, pressurized blood coloring the pavement crimson, would haunt him for the rest of his days, regardless of how soon that could be.

Marko’s hand twitched one more time, then it moved no more.

Serj felt maddening rage clouding his senses, the kind he hasn't felt since the day his hometown in Penamstan was ravaged by clandestine, American-produced bioweapons. 

Many joined Bloodfang out of desire to reshape the world in the image preached by their numerous shadowy deacons, but him and Marko? They just wanted to give back to the world that took everything from them. To watch it all burn. It was all too easy for them to volunteer for the mysterious man’s offer of New York City as their next target, especially considering his generous donation of C-Virus and corrupt officials’ contacts. And now some vile bug-bitch put a definitive end to Marko’s dream to see these bastards get what they deserved for himself.

Growling in frothing rage, Serj briefly contemplated reaching for his C-Virus derived serum. ‘Hellfire’ strain - it was, once upon a time, mass-produced by The Connections, only to be found too ‘dangerous’ and ‘unreliable’ even by the likes of Edonian rebels, and instead found its way to the Bloodfang stores, years later. Its injection all but guaranteed the most agonizing death possible for the user, yet its immediate combat benefits were undeniable, therefore it was issued by the Bloodfang to its squad leaders, to be used as a last resort weapon.

Calming down by reminding himself that he still had living men under his command, Serj grabbed a 40mm launcher from Damian - the crew’s demolition expert - with a “give me that!” and lobbed an incendiary grenade right at the truck with no hesitation. Marko did always want to be cremated.

His hopes of putting an end to this monstrous stalker were dashed aside fast enough, however, and Serj could only grind his teeth in silent rage as his keen eyes spotted the accursed swarm dashing away from the car a millisecond before the inferno bloomed all around it. That bug-monster was still alive and, once again, hiding somewhere in this accursed parking lot - that looked more and more like their final resting place with each passing second.

Gazing around wildly, Serj was sweating like a waterfall in his form-fitting hazmat suit, both from the heat and the rage that burned within him at the sight of Marko’s demise.

Still, his gambit has paid off it seemed - no further attacks from the monster occurred in the next fifteen seconds as his men arranged themselves into a circle, without any blindspots, around the VDU, allowing the squad leader a moment to catch his breath and recover his wits. 

Serj did peg this creature as a stalking predator type - eager to pounce upon his men while they were spread around, but now clearly hesitating to try and take them on directly, without any cover concealing her approach.

Glancing around at his five remaining men, the squad leader could plainly see that they were more than a little unnerved by the slaughter committed upon their fellow Bloodfang. None of them were prepared to face something like this bestial creature. He was not blind to the fact that it would not take much more to completely shatter the remaining soldiers’ morale and send them into a panicked rout - which would indubiously prove fatal, considering the ruthless nature of their foe.

“Stand fast, my brothers! Soon, the victory will be ours!” Serj knew that his own voice betrayed his inner turmoil, but it was his job as the squad leader to at least attempt to raise their waning spirits. The truth of his statement, however, was enough to embolden the man himself. As long as that monster kept hiding, they could still complete the mission… and that’s really all that mattered, at the end of the day.

Whoosh!

Serj felt searing agony radiating from his forearm; the force of the attack caused him to let go of the precious grenade launcher. Glancing down at his limb, he was shocked to discover a fresh wound - bleeding from an ordinary kinetic impact, like that of a bullet. Shock soon gave way to mortification, as Serj realized that in this brutal skirmish with this man-eating monster, he all but forgot about the squad of FBI agents they’ve beaten back previously.

And now… out in the open they were simple targets for the emboldened agents, while if they were to seek cover behind cars and pillars, they would be easy prey for the monstrous beast that stalked them. This is what the phrase ‘between a rock and a hard place’ truly meant, it seemed.

“Suppressive fire, now! Hold your ground!”

Barking out a swift command, the leader clutched at his arm, while trying to put some suppressive fire with his sidearm upon the stairway hall opening. Still, to his minor satisfaction, a well-placed shot from Jacob’s FN-FAL saw one of the government minions fall upon the pavement, clutching at his abdomen. Jacob was not counted among the best shots in the Bloodfang for nothing, after all.

The satisfaction of a successful hit was short-lived, however, as Damian tumbled to the ground, dead before he even hit it, courtesy of a bullet lodged right between his eyes. The FBI were hardly pushovers themselves, after all.

That was finally enough to shatter the squads’ waning morale, and the viral specialist Jung-Hoon yelled out, “Screw this shit!” before breaking their formation and rushing towards the surface access.

“Stand your ground, you fool!” Desperately tried Serj, knowing full well that to flee now would only invite inglorious doom. No way that creature would let any of them walk away - he just knew that.

And he was proven correct, as Jung-Hoon could barely make ten steps before a blurry shadow was upon him, fangs bared. The piercing scream of agony, as the cowardly Bloodfang’s flesh was torn apart by her sharp teeth and sharper yet sickle, was enough to induce full-fledged panic in the three remaining soldiers and Serj realized that the fight was lost… unless…

His fingers reached for the serum that could still turn the tides around - at the cost of his life. However, the man underestimated the dizziness caused by the penetrating wound he had just suffered, and his trembling digits allowed the precious vial to fall to the ground, which sent it into a roll away from him, under a black Infiniti.

Cursing everything in existence and breaking formation himself, the man fell on all fours in a desperate gambit to reach his last hope, even if he had to crawl to it, even if he heard the dying screams of his remaining men behind him - as the beast finally felt bold enough to take their dwindling numbers head on. There was Jacob’s high-pitched last yelp, implying that his end was mercifully swift and Sadiki’s deeper baritone, full of anguish.

It took him several seconds to crawl his way to the vial, which thankfully stopped its roll upon colliding with a wheel of the Infiniti. These seconds saw both the screams and the gunfire cease, indicating that the fight was truly over, as a matter of fact. 

“Please, no! I surrender! Just let me…gah!”

Serj could only silently mock Dimitri’s feeble cries for mercy. As if this feral creature was familiar with the concept. As if they ever showed it themselves. At least the monstrous munching noise that followed implied that the beast would keep herself busy feasting upon the poor fool.

Further driving the point home, a menacing growling suddenly came from behind, followed by a vicious sound of torn flesh and a jet of crimson liquid splattering against the lenses of his suit. 

Serj could vividly picture that monstrosity’s gnashing teeth ravaging Dimitri’s neck in its wicked desire to let as much blood flow out as possible - the imagery chilling his own blood. The knowledge that he likely only had mere seconds before the creature would turn its gaze his way threatened to constrict his muscles in fright. 

Ajay, Namir, Farhad, Jonas, Alexei, Marko, Damian, Jung-Hoon, Jacob, Dimitri and Sadiki. All dead. Serj couldn’t believe it - only a few days ago they were sitting around a campfire, exchanging tall tales and boasts of victories to come - and now, they were all gone, just like that, in a matter of minutes. The nefarious ‘Viy’ crew, slaughtered to the last man.

Anger and rage, however, are one hell of an anesthetic and Serj did not waste a single second in extracting the syringe and plunging it right into his wrist.

“This is for Marko, you bitch.”

 

***

 

Daniela felt sick to her stomach as she observed the actions committed by her own hands, with her own eyes. The blurry prism that separated her from reality was now colored dark red.

The fight with Styx notwithstanding, whenever the creature that lived within Daniela took over before, it had a peculiar side effect of Daniela herself falling into a deep slumber, from which she would later wake up, surrounded by blood and death. The benefits of such happenstance were obvious - even if Daniela’s hands were soaked in blood, she remembered nothing and could lie to herself about everything not really being her fault. She could pretend .

Now, though? Now, she experienced everything firsthand - there was no room for pretense anymore. Every single kill made by her savage twin, Daniela was there on the first row, to drink in every gory detail. The sheer brutality and callousness was simply staggering, the total disregard for life - overwhelming. To the creature, these humans were nothing but mice to play around with, only to slaughter and feast upon them at its convenience. 

That’s not even mentioning the incredible strength and speed the creature seemed to confer upon its host. Daniela could all but feel the energizing mold burning in her veins; the staggering efficiency of converting the unnatural cells into raw power that then flooded her muscles was mind-boggling - it went far above and beyond what she could normally muster.

She could understand now the fear she saw in Cassandra’s eyes, one time when the older sibling attempted to wrangle her feral twin by force - only to be brushed aside. When Daniela had woken up the next day, seemingly so long ago, it was in Alcina’s gentle arms; with bruised form Cassandra glaring at her with both spite and a measure of fear plain in her amber eyes.

The blood-soaked past, however, appeared inconsequential in the face of a horrifying present. In a span of mere minutes, she slaughtered a dozen men with inhuman brutality. Even if these were the so-called ‘bad guys’ who wanted to hurt her first, it was hard to consider it all a proper application of self-defense, since she was covered in blood and viscera from head to toe. The last standing man even tried to plead for his life, only for his suffering to be prolonged, as the monster was all too eager to feast upon the living blood that coursed through his veins - his agony was inconsequential.

And while the resolution was what Daniela wanted all along - the complete neutralization of all the humans who were threatening her family and friends - the redhead couldn’t help but feel the gnawing hatred growing in her heart. Hatred for herself and her unnatural, monstrous existence. 

As her dark twin callously feasted upon the unfortunate human who had attempted to surrender, Daniela almost wished that someone would show up and put a definitive end to her atrocious self.

Barely able to pierce the gloom of self-loathing, in her peripheral vision, Daniela could spot one last living human, crawling away - and she was aware that the vicious beast saw him, as well. A delicious morsel, awaiting its turn.

The errant thought horrified Daniela to her very core. It felt alien, yet also as invariably her own. Was the beast taking over completely now? She could not allow that to happen.

That’s enough! You’ve had enough! Go back to your cage!

The monster that wore Daniela’s skin merely growled in response, before savagely tearing a bloody chunk out of the neck it feasted upon. The pressurized blood spurted in every direction. Daniela had long since lost count how many layers of blood now covered her skin, not that she cared at this point.

It did not want to go back.

Suddenly, the noise of footsteps forced the beast to discard its kill. Swiftly swirling around, Daniela stared at the familiar silhouette of Catherine, who was approaching the bulky device - and the blood-soaked vampire standing next to it - with cautious steps. Unarmed, the woman walked forward slowly, with her hands raised in a placating gesture. The redhead was utterly shocked by the woman’s bravery. Even thought Catherine saw the inhuman brutality of Daniela’s feral side, she still risked her literal life and limb to do her job - to disarm that bomb that threatened all of them.

Regardless, the first instinct Daniela felt was to rip and tear. It felt like her own, even. Sweet woman blood, to go along with all the sourness.

No! Catherine is a friend! A FRIEND! Don’t you dare harm her!

At first, Daniela was sure that the beast would ignore her and pounce upon the B.S.A.A. agent. A minuscule part of her even wanted it to do that - out of her wicked curiosity to find out how exactly would Catherine taste.

But, whether from the strength of her conviction, or from the resonance of that particular term, it held back. Instead of slaughtering Catherine right then and there, it merely gazed at her, while chewing some flesh - no doubt disturbing even the experienced field agent with the gruesome display, which was only further enhanced by the angrily buzzing insects that still swarmed around the redhead. With her gray suit all but in tatters and blood - fresh and long-dried, alike, as well as loose viscera, covering her from head to toe, Daniela was a fearsome sight indeed.

Terrified out of her mind internally, Catherine gulped, but seeing no signs of aggression from this savage monster - who was a sweet girl that laughed at her stupid jokes yesterday, proceeded to the viral bomb. There was no escaping her fate, whatever it was, and the agent was all too aware of that fact.

At her destination, somewhat emboldened by her continued existence and clearly trying her best to ignore the piercing gaze that tracked her every move, Catherine set to work on disarming the device that was set to go off any second now. Good thing she had attended that extra bomb disposal training session…

In turn, observing her work quietly, Daniela could only hope that Catherine knew what she was doing. Swallowing the morsel that once made up someone’s neck, the bone-chilling sound of munching finally ceased, a fact Catherine was visibly happy about. Contrasting the previous cacophony of mayhem, the next moments were spent in morbid, tense silence.

With no further incentives for violence, steadily, Daniela saw the misty veil that clouded her senses dissipating, with control returning to her limbs. 

Seems like the beast has had its fill, after all, and with the lack of continued hostilities and Daniela reasserting her spot as the dominant presence in their unnatural bond - it retreated deeper into their shared psyche, eager for a slumber of its own, perhaps. Likewise, most of her bugs have melded back into her flesh, with only a few still circling overhead.

Experimentally flexing her fingers, Daniela was satisfied to see that she was once again fully in control of her own body. Perhaps this waking nightmare was over, at last, though she would not forget this dreadful experience. Even if she could not see the faces of those she had slain, surely their screams would haunt her for many years to come. Still, just like she always did, Daniela attempted to focus on the brighter spots of the blood-soaked canvas that was her existence. 

These people had it coming, didn’t they? We won, didn’t we? Mama, Rosie, Tom are safe… that's all that matters… 

“How’s it going?”

The simple question, delivered in a voice that betrayed Daniela’s raw throat, was intended to calm Catherine, to reassure her that Daniela was still her friend. It had the opposite effect, it seemed, as Catherine visibly jumped in spot, before leveling her gaze at Daniela. The fear in it hurt more than Daniela cared to admit. Monster, it all but screamed at her. 

Unable to hold Catherine’s gaze and hearing no response, Daniela turned around - just in time to see one of the previously-dispatched humans standing up. The one that was crawling away - the one she had all but forgotten about. Her grasp on her trusty sickle tightened, but not out of the desire to hurt. She didn’t want to hurt anyone anymore. She had hurt enough people to last her a lifetime… several, in fact.

Maybe he will just surrender? Please, just surrender!

Even though she couldn’t see his eyes through the dark lens of his hazmat suit’s headgear, she could feel the scalding gaze. It told the redhead that the man in question was not quite ready to give up. That despite his whole frame shuddering and his breath being labored, he still had some fight left in him. A desire for vengeance for his slain comrades, perhaps? Looking closer, Daniela had to discard that line of thought, as a number of peculiarities about that man became quite glaring to her keen eyes.

Firstly, his bulk appeared a size or two too large for his hazmat suit, which was bulging all over his frame - unnaturally so, as if his whole frame suddenly bloated, or something. Secondly, the blood that was seeping from his arm injury had an usual coloration - bright orange, almost yellow and what’s more, it almost appeared as if the liquid was exuding smoke, as if it was boiling hot.

Fully on guard, but still not giving up hope on the possibility of resolving this conflict peacefully, Daniela stood still and awaited the next move of this strange man. He appeared unarmed, after all…

“It’s done, the bomb is disarmed…”

Catherine reassurance brought the measure of comfort to Daniela, as at least they managed to disarm the C-Virus bomb that threatened everyone within this building… What happened next was enough to shatter any illusions of safety the redhead harbored, however.

The strange man let loose a piercing roar which seemingly contained both the unspeakable rage and indescribable agony.

“Get away from him, Dani!”

Daniela did not need to be told twice. Heeding her friend, while mentally exulting in the fact that Catherine still cared about her - even after seeing her at her worst, Daniela leapt backwards from the man, and just in time, as his whole hazmat suit disintegrated in an instant and his very skin blazed with blinding flash. A heatwave-like phenomenon radiated from the man a millisecond later, bathing Daniela in scorching air and incinerating every stray insect that had yet to return to the safety that her combined biomass provided.

Showcasing her experience in combating bioterror-related threats, Catherine did not hesitate to unholster her sidearm and fire a trio of shots, centermass, into this monstrous human, yet whatever unnatural power fueled his transformation must have also conferred an incredible level of resilience, since the fiery creature merely took a step back from the impacts, appearing none the worse for wear.

Before Daniela could recover from her shock at seeing a seemingly ordinary human transform into a fiery humanoid abomination, the man was upon her, swinging his fist in a devastating haymaker, while letting out a monstrous roar. Dodging the attack just barely, Daniela felt the searing heat singing her own skin, merely from being close to this man. It hurt to the point of tears.

Undaunted by his first attack missing its mark, the fiery man launched into a ferocious onslaught - focused purely on Daniela, while completely ignoring Catherine, who kept taking ineffective potshots at his simmering frame. In turn, Daniela found herself entirely on the defensive, as not only she was too weary to transform into her swarm-shape, but she was also aware of the fact that her insects were particularly vulnerable to extreme temperatures, whether hot or cold.

Sidestepping from a particularly raging blow that saw his fiery fist impact a pillar, Daniela found herself gaping wide as a large chunk of stone was broken from the column. Even at her strongest, she would’ve been eclipsed by the raw power this strange man possessed.

Still, as strong and resilient he was, Daniela herself was one agile ladybug. Even without her swarm form, the redhead weaved and dodged around his telegraphed attacks with relative ease.

Unfortunately, it seemed that her continuous avoidance of his strikes only served to enrage the mutated man further. Moreover, it appeared that the man’s fury somehow served to fuel the molten furnace that burned within his mutated heart and the angrier he got - so did the temperature radiating off him increased to reach a nearly unbearable degree.

Daniela knew that she needed to use her wits to win this one, not just her brawn. 

I wish Bela was here! I bet she would’ve bested this guy in no time at all!

But Bela was not here, and even her inner beast had retreated into the depth of her psyche - the primal being apparently being afflicted by an appropriately primal fear - fire .

Weaving and dodging every ferocious swipe, the best Daniela could come up with was a particularly agile sidestep that resulted in her appearing behind her opponent. Not thinking twice about the opportunity presented to her, the redhead slammed her sickle home into his back - right where a human heart would be.

His simmering flesh gave way to the steel of her sickle easily enough, yet instead of suffering a mortal wound, the fiery mutant merely roared in truly demonic voice, with the color of his skin changing from dark red to orange; an according increase in temperature following along.

Unable to withstand the heat anymore, the redhead leapt backwards, only to stare as her trusty sickle - that faithfully served her for decades - and which was still embedded in the man’s back, literally melted. 

Having suffered her attack and eager to return the favor, the swiftly-recovered mutant tore the nearest car’s door and, without hesitation, hurled it Daniela’s way, with enough speed and precision that only her last moment’s tumble saw her head still attached to her neck.

Quickly getting up again, Daniela could only grit her teeth at the fact of her helplessness in the face of this implacable foe. Her mind drew a complete blank on how she could even theoretically defeat this mutated freak. Even merely approaching it was out of the question, much less landing a telling blow.

“Dani, lure him next to that red Chevy!”

Daniela had no idea what a ‘Chevy’ was, but after taking a frantic glance around the lot, she saw only one red car. Not having a concrete plan of her own, it was a no-brainer for the youngest Dimitrescu to follow her friend’s command, even if she had no clue what Catherine had planned. She could only hope that the B.S.A.A. operative knew what she was doing, since it appeared that not only was the creature exuding more and more warmth with each passing second, but its whole frame seemed to bloat to the point where Daniela would not be too surprised to see it actually explode.

“You want me so badly, huh? Well, can’t really blame you - everybody wants a piece of lil’ ol’ Daniela! Come and get me, then!” Daniela yelled even as she danced her way to the aforementioned car, before opening her arms wide - mockingly inviting the creature to take its best shot at her.

The taunt was simplistic, and perhaps completely unnecessary, since the creature appeared fixated on her anyway and was eager to stomp right after her, regardless of where she went. It did not appear to be coherent enough to recognize obvious baits and perhaps the gift of comprehension has left its fused brain altogether, with only primal desire for destruction left in it.

Still, Daniela could just barely tumble out of the maddened charge the creature performed in a bid to close the gap between them. Poor Chevy was not as fortunate, and the fiery monstrosity impacted it right into the driver’s door. The whole vehicle bounced on its wheels, almost tipping over, before settling back on its spot, with the mangled door landing some distance away; the metal of its warped carcass groaning in protest all the while. If she was some side-observer to this bullfighting performance, Daniela would surely bemoan the beautiful car’s fate; as things were, Daniela could only huff and puff as she struggled to catch her breath, while trying to regain her footing. Even her mold-enhanced muscular and circulatory system were at their limit.

Fortunately for the kneeling redhead, so eager was the creature to crush Daniela in its mad charge, that the force of its own impact dazed it, providing the precious moment needed for Catherine to enact her plan. Not waiting for the monster to recover, the B.S.A.A. agent opened rapid fire with her sidearm - not at the creature itself but at the ceiling right above it.

Confused, Daniela opened her mouth to let out a word of protest, but before she could do so, a veritable stream of water came crashing down upon the mutant. Only then did the redhead note a fat pipe running its way through the ceiling, now generously dousing the fiery creature in liquid.

To Daniela’s shock, however, instead of dousing the flames, the water seemed to only intensify them, with the creature changing its hue to a blinding white, bathing the kneeling Dimitrescu in heatwave that singed her brows and threatened to set her own hair on fire. 

But before Daniela could bemoan her misfortune, the monster doubled over, as if in pain, while letting loose a horrifying, agony-filled shriek. 

Unknowingly to Daniela, even though the water was unable to douse the unnatural flames, it did its job well enough in destabilizing the already-unstable chemical reactions that were running amok through the man who had injected himself with the black market serum. Unable to handle the strain, the burn-out process was accelerated and in mere seconds the fearsome monstrosity that imperiled Daniela was reduced to a pile of ash.

 

“Huh… Well, that was… easy?”

Not that Daniela wanted to look a gift horse in the mouth, but she did not expect the nigh-unstoppable-looking monster to go down like that. Wincing in pain as her sore muscles cried out in protest, the redhead finally managed to get back to her feet.

“I think that was a C-Virus derived HF-strain.” Catherine’s answer only caused Daniela to turn around and gaze at the agent while experimentally touching her eyebrows, and wincing again upon finding out that she didn’t have them anymore.

Clearing her throat as she reminded herself that she was not dealing with an experienced anti-B.O.W. operative, Catherine provided a brief explanation, “An experimental serum that was deemed too unstable and defective to be mass-produced, but some desperate elements still got their hands on the original stock… like this guy, I guess.”

Upon hearing that, a pang of pity prickled at Daniela’s heart and she gazed at the pile of ash with a measure of sadness in her expressive amber eyes. Even though this man and his cohorts were her enemies - who wanted to hurt her and her friends - she still felt bad about the agonizing end he had to suffer.

How desperate one has to be to inject himself with something as horrible as this thing… he couldn’t have had an easy life, could he..?

A moment of silence passed, but it didn’t last, as Daniela felt like lifting the gloomy mood with a genuine comment, even despite the inner turmoil boiling within her.

“We work well, together, don’t we, Cathi?”

At that, Catherine locked her harsh brown eyes with Daniela’s hopeful amber ones. Somehow, the redhead felt the scrutinizing gaze piercing all the way down to her soul, beholding all of her bloody deeds and unforgivable sins. Breaking the eye contact first, the youngest Dimitrescu was prepared to receive the condemnation she knew she deserved. Freak. Murderer. Monster.

“We do, Dani.” Daniela lifted her gaze once again, in astonishment, only to be met with a tense, but genuine smile. “I need a fucking vacation after all this, though.”

The truth of that statement forced the chipper redhead to let out a mirthful laugh, before nodding her head and consenting. “A vacation sounds nice! Somewhere sunny! A nice, little beach, perhaps?”

Catherine nodded along, “I’d kill to be on a beach right about now.” 

 

The happy moment of reforged and tempered friendship did not last, either.

The noise of screeching wheels was soon followed by a crash, as a large, armored car smashed its way through the underground parking lot’s grating gates, only to drive further in, with two passengers disembarking quickly and leveling their guns at Daniela and Catherine - with the former immediately standing protectively in front of the latter.

“Run! I’ll cover you!” whispered Daniela, even though she knew that her drained body lacked the strength for yet another fight. She could barely stand, truth to be told.

“I am not leaving you like that, Dani.” whispered back Catherine, before adding in a hopeful tone, “Trevor should be back soon with anyone who can hold a gun.”

Scoffing at her friend’s foolhardiness, Daniela took a moment to inspect the two men that pointed their guns at her. A far-cry from the hazmat-equipped soldiers whose mauled corpses littered the ground, these two instilled terror in Daniela’s heart with their mere looks.

Futuristic-looking black armor, with splotches of red and white. Hockey mask-like headgear, with lenses burning with malefic orange. Advanced weaponry that meant business.

The same freaks that hounded them in Mauritania and France - the Replica Troopers; and these two looked even deadlier than any Daniela had seen before.

Surprisingly, the Replica merely held the two women at gunpoint and did not engage them immediately, and Daniela soon knew why. Two more passengers got out of their armored car, one of whom made the redhead’s dark blood boil in her veins. Apprehension gave way to anger soon enough.

Mia Winters. That horrible bitch of a woman who had kidnapped her mother, only to run unconscionable experiments on her. Wife of dearest Ethan, who had attempted to execute her own husband in cold blood, once he refused to join in on her wicked schemes in his incomprehensible desire to protect the Dimitrescu family.

Daniela wanted to do nothing but to tear her apart with her bare hands. Even the beast within her let out a growl. In turn, Mia gazed at her with mild surprise that bordered on disinterest, only further agitating the redhead.

“Calm down, Dani…”

Catherine must have noted the redhead’s tense posture, as her calming whisper were followed by her hand squeezing Daniela’s own, somewhat soothing the enraged Dimitrescu daughter. The experienced agent knew well how deadly these Replica Elite were.

After measuring each other with pointed glares, the tall man that accompanied Mia decided to break the silence with a particularly annoyed tone. Somehow, it struck Daniela as glaringly arrogant and the redhead couldn’t help but note that Mia chose her company well - the conceited bastard made a fine pair with the traitorous snake.

“Interesting. You little bug-whores are far more resilient than I gave you credit for. I admit, I never expected you to make it this far and to pester me even at this critical junction.”

Daniela couldn’t decide if she wanted to grin at the compliment or to snarl at the insult, so she produced an annoyed scowl, instead. 

Just who is this human thinks he is? Cassandra would’ve had a field day with him…

With a shocking air of nonchalance that betrayed his ruthless nature, the tall man proceeded to slowly gaze around the lot, momentarily stopping his eyes on each mangled corpse - that were all over the place.

“It’s so hard to find good help these days…”

The man sounded like he had stepped into a puddle and not like twelve of his men were lying dead at his feet. The displayed callousness made Daniela really consider which one out of two of them she hated the most.

Before anyone could say anything else, another car followed the path of the first, with its passengers disembarking as well. Unlike the passengers of the first car, however, these four looked just like the soldiers Daniela had dispatched earlier - generic in their dark, form-fitting hazmat suits. Letting out gasps of dismay as they beheld their slain compatriots, three of them immediately followed the Replica’s lead and aimed their guns at Daniela and Catherine, but the fourth held back and simply stared right at Daniela. Not paying the faceless goons any mind beyond a passing glance, Daniela had her attention transfixed upon the vile pair she wanted to choke with her bare hands.

“Enough wasting time with this rabble, Fettel.” Mia spoke in a tone that betrayed her displeasure, even as she fiddled with some kind of a device, “I am reading Sarah’s vitals coming from the 6th floor of this building.”

Hearing that, Daniela felt a chill of raw terror creeping down her spine. They knew exactly where Sarah was… and that meant they knew exactly where her Mother was.

The tall man let out a mean snicker, “Indeed. Our true prize awaits… your beloved daughter…” he paused, only to gaze right into Daniela’s eyes, and the empathic girl was taken aback by the sheer brutality she could sense residing inside of him, even before he pronounced his dreaded destination, “...and our dearest Lady Alcina Dimitrescu.”

As exhausted as she was, Daniela knew full well that she was no match against them. The incredible power and agility of her darkest side came with a cost - rapid depletion of mold cells that enriched her blood. And while the vast quantities of human blood and flesh she had engorged herself upon would see it replenished soon enough, even her hyper metabolism needed time to do its magic. Time she didn’t have.

Even realizing all that, the youngest daughter of Dimitrescu felt her hands clenched into unyielding fists, as she hissed out a statement she meant with every fiber of her being.

“You will not put one filthy finger of yours upon my mother! Not as long as I draw breath.”

The man smirked, as if he was expecting this response all along.

“That seems like a particularly easy condition to meet, wouldn’t you agree, ET-36?”

“It is.” Boomed the Replica Elite to the right, stepping forward.

As Daniela took in the fearsome form of her next opponent, a dreadful fact became apparent to her. The staircase that led to the building itself was right next to Mia and the tall man. In turn, the unknown man - as if reading her thoughts - merely smirked her way, before lazily waving his hand and ordering his underlings around.

“Excellent, show our…” the man motioned at the four hazmat soldiers from the second car, with clear derision in both his gestures and voice, ”...Bloodfang friends how a real professional works.” He then glared at the disarmed viral bomb, before mockingly bemoaning his own fate, “Forgive me, Ms. Winters, I promised you a pleasant stroll towards our final destination, but it seems like some blood will have to be spilled. Ah well.” He didn’t look particularly apologetic - almost if he relished the prospect of bloodshed to come. Finally, he - without looking at him - addressed the lead man from the second car, “Order every remaining Bloodfang in the area to commence the ground assault on the building. Time is of the essence, as they say.”

The reactions to his orders were as different as night and day. The Replica Elite merely nodded, never letting his gaze wander from Daniela. Mia herself appeared completely apathetic - like a person who no longer believed to be in control of one’s own fate. The Bloodfang squad leader let out an annoyed scoff, but yielded, though his displeasure was obvious, “As you say.”

The tall man’s lips twisted into a wicked smile that promised nothing but misery. “Some force majeure notwithstanding, all the pieces are in their places, then. Let us be on our way.” 

Before departing, however, the loathsome creep directed his attention to Daniela, once again. A mocking bow preceded his gloating. “Adieu, Miss Dimitrescu. I’ll be sure to give your regards to your beloved Mother, as I tear her beating heart out.

And just like that, he turned around and started walking at a leisurely pace towards the stairway hall, with Mia and one Replica Elite following him like the loyal lap dogs they were.

Fuming in rage, Daniela could no longer contain her emotions. Easily breaking the handhold Catherine still had with her, the youngest Dimitrescu rushed to intercept this vile man, only for the Replica who was left behind to get in her way; a menacing shock baton already active and pointed right at her. The swiftness of his movements betrayed his own inhuman nature.

“Not so fast, little fly.”

The cloned supersoldier had an unmistakable tint of sadistic glee in his voice, somewhat reminiscent of Cassandra. He clearly relished this opportunity and Daniela - unable to assume her swarm form due to her exhausted reserves of energy - had no choice but to take a step back, gritting her teeth, all the while.

Not a second later, from the stairway hall, the noises of gunfire, followed by screams of the dying reached Daniela’s keen ears, implying that the strange man and his brutal bodyguard were already carving their way towards her Mother. Alcina, Rosie and Tom needed her help but Daniela knew that she would have to get through this freak and his four goons to be of any further aid to her friends and family. 

And whatever she had to do to best the Replica, she had to do it fast . Something told her that the FBI and B.S.A.A. agents between here and apartment #601 would only slow this strange man down, and even then - not by much.

With Catherine behind her, the Replica Elite in front of her and the four faceless goons to her side, Daniela gritted her teeth. One fight was over, but another one was just getting started. 

How I wish you were here with me, now, my sisters… Beli… Cassi… 

Even her thoughts offered no respite, as the vampiric scion simply saw no way out of this predicament. Several tears of desperation ran down her cheek, yet her fists were still clenched with resolve. Even if victory was impossible, she would not stop fighting to protect those she loved.

Mama… Rosie… Tom… just hold on… I don’t know how, but I will protect you all…somehow…

Daniela Dimitrescu would not yield, not as long as her family was on the line. For them, she would be the warrior who fought to her death. The murderer, who slaughtered the enemy to the last. The protector, who was ready to sacrifice herself.

From the corner of her eye, Daniela noticed the fourth masked goon finally bringing his pistol up, though, curiously it didn’t appear as if he was aiming at her. She didn’t get to ponder much on that peculiarity, however, as the Replica finally charged straight at her with bedazzling speed, his shock baton sparkling with deadly electricity.

 

Even knowing that this was likely her final fight, Daniela Dimitrescu stood firm in the face of her demise.

Notes:

So I've envisaged this parking lot scene a long time ago, and I am really happy that it finally came to fruition (though, funny thing, originally, it was supposed to be Cassandra who tore the Bloodfang squad apart here, but then I thought that she had enough badass moments already in this story, and it would confer a stronger sense of character growth to have her risk her life and limb to aid Ethan in the Empire State Building's finale.)

Also, this is probably the sole chapter for which the revision process took longer than the actual writing in the first place. Funny enough, I don't know how this chapter got this huge - I did plan for the underground fight scene to be 3-4k words, but then it grew to colossal 11k, then again, I had an amazing time writing this, so I have no regrets :) Dani sure takes a lot of spotlight in my works lately, though xD

Penamstan (from which Serj and Marko are from) is a country in RE universe, from Resident Evil: Infinite Darkness miniseries. Also, since the C-Virus fume-based serum we saw in RE6 worked with extremely high temperatures (to the point where it incinerated its hosts), I felt like my "Hellfire" strain is not that far from the canon :)

Finally, I envisage Bloodfang to be an international organization, who recruits desperate elements worldwide, therefore the Viy squad was made up from many different nationalities. And well, as monstrous they are, at the end of the day, even terrorists are human, with their own goals and personalities.

Anyway, hope the chapter was an enjoyable read, and as always, feel free to leave any kind of feedback - I appreciate it more than you know! :)

Chapter 44: Devastation

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Ethan fully expected that getting to the HQ by foot would not be a walk in the park.

The first five minutes of their trek did little to prove him correct, however. The only real issue was the seemingly omnipresent bluish mist, which served as a nerve-wracking constant - despite Dion’s assurance that the respirator masks, which they have equipped in the shelter, provided sufficient protection against the airborne virus, at least the diluted version of it.

Traversing the eerily empty streets and surrounded by oppressive silence, the diminished Bravo Team proceeded in near reverent silence, as if afraid to break the fragile illusion of apparent safety. Even Cassandra, normally so proud and boisterous, kept her sharp tongue to herself; after all, who knew what kind of monsters lurked inside the vision-obscuring mist… For once in her long and bitter life, the middle Dimitrescu sibling was not looking for a fight - at least not a meaningless one.

Likewise, even though his life seemed to try its best to beat out every speck of optimism from Ethan, he had hoped to avoid any unnecessary confrontation that could delay him from reaching his beloved child in time. That said, the man was prepared to fight tooth and nail if he had to - as much as one can be prepared, armed with just a single 9mm pistol with 6 rounds in the clip.

The unfortunate reality was that the aforementioned meager armament made Ethan the most well-armed person in their group. Dion’s looted sidearm was lost amidst the chaos of their crash landing, while Cassandra’s twin P90s were discarded immediately after her reckless intervention against the attack drone, which had almost cost her her life - under such circumstances, nobody could really blame either for their misplaced guns.

Still, as Ethan - taking the point in their little procession - nervously adjusted his grip on the pistol, he couldn’t help but bemoan the fact that Dion had nothing but his bare hands to defend himself with, while Cassandra was now armed with just some cheap knife she managed to lift from a kitchenette, which they had passed after visiting the shelter area. Suppressing a small shudder at a sudden recollection of dagger-inflicted violence, the man had to remind himself that even a simple kitchen knife was a deadly weapon, especially in Cassandra’s hands.

Consumed by their own grim thoughts, the trio of unlikely companions continued in silence, though Ethan was not deaf to Cassandra’s somewhat labored breathing, coming from right behind him. If not for the fact that they were pressed for time or the near-certainty of Cassandra’s ire being directed at him if he tried that, Ethan would’ve surely offered to slow down their admittedly hurried pace. Things being as they were, the man walked without saying a word, though unlike his tongue, his eyes knew no rest.

Just at the corner of his sight, there was that accursed red silhouette, seemingly taunting him with its intangibility, as every time he would turn his gaze, it would already be gone - only to appear elsewhere seconds later. Gritting his teeth and feeling cold sweat trickling down his brow, Ethan had to endure this phantom, though it was getting harder, as what sounded like far-away giggling was seemingly carried by the wind. Except there was no wind blowing upon the deserted streets of New York at this hour today.

The inexplicable, illusory gust-like phenomenon blew so very lightly against Ethan’s skin, akin to a gentle touch, yet it was anything but pleasant - chilling him to his bones and allowing the dread to pool in his stomach.

The combination of intensifying visual, auditory and somatosensory hallucinations forced Ethan to grit his teeth in impotent anger and bone-chilling fear. At this rate he almost wished for something to attack them, if that meant getting rid of this accursed phantasma that stalked him now.

This is fucking crazy… Am I going crazy, at last?

 

“Why is it so damn cold all of a sudden?”

Cassandra, growling under her breath, while vigorously rubbing her palms against each other, had a weirdly calming effect on Ethan. The first notion was a reassuring one - he was not going insane, after all, since someone else, at least partially, experienced this same strange hallucination. The second one - not so much, since it implied that whatever it was that haunted them, was quite real.

Another phantasmic chuckle - this time coming as if from a person who all but pressed their lips into his ear - and Ethan couldn’t suppress the instinct to slightly jump in place.

“Ethan?” Cassandra was not blind to his fright - her curious tone implied as much. 

The man in question paused completely. “Didn’t you hear that?” He didn’t turn around to behold her facial expression, but he could imagine it as confused clearly enough from her response alone.

“Hear what?” A brief pause ensued, as Ethan contemplated the best way to respond to that, but before he could do so, Cassandra continued, with pensive notes in her voice, “Huh… now I hear it… sounds like… groaning?”

Now it was Ethan’s turn to be confused, but not for long, as his slightly inferior senses were quick to catch up to that sound Cassandra heard first. Groaning sounds about right. Ethan was swift to put two and two together, as did Dion, “Shit…”

The preternatural chill, as well as the otherworldly presence faded just like that, only to be replaced by shambling shapes, making their way towards the small group from the misty alleyway to the side. Dressed in miraculously spotless business suits; with vacant gazes, snarling mouths and grasping hands - a bunch of zombie brokers was not something Ethan was too keen to face.

“We need to take care of them quickly and quietly - there is no telling how many more are skulking around.” Immediately offered Dion, showcasing his experience in combating all kinds of bio-organic weapons.

Understandably, Ethan was not too happy about the implication, even if the alternative was not exactly presenting itself. Running away from these would probably only attract an entire horde. “Wrangling with zombies? That’s just great.” Beyond the obvious unpleasantness of grappling with rapidly decomposing, half-dead husks, Ethan was not particularly eager to inflict violence upon the unfortunate souls which were forever claimed by the insidious C-Virus. He was all too aware that mere hours ago they were ordinary people, just going about their daily lives - none of them asked to be turned into flesh-eating monstrosities. Naturally, a certain someone didn’t share his reservations.

“Tsch.” A noise of indignation from Cassandra, followed by a derisive, “ Men .” and off she goes to face the four zombies by her lonely, wounded self; a cheap kitchen knife at the ready - with no hesitation whatsoever in her step. As if wrangling zombies was something she did for fun back in her old days. She probably did.

Briskly approaching the group of zombies - while the zombies themselves accelerate at the visual stimuli - Cassandra did not waste a breath in plunging her knife deep into the first shambler that lunged at her. Unsurprisingly, wielded with the vampire’s superior strength, even the cheap kitchen knife was able to easily pierce the rotting flesh and the tough cranium bone of the unfortunate undead.

A blink of an eye and the dagger was already freed out of one prison of flesh and bone, only to be thrown into another - with terrifying precision and strength.

The two first zombies collapsed almost simultaneously, but Cassandra was not done yet. Her clenched fist flew with her trademark power, hitting the third undead square in the mouth, causing it to tumble backwards like a ragdoll, with the snapping sound of a dislocated jaw to accompany its fall. 

The fourth and final zombie, however, was about to grasp Cassandra in its arms, with its teeth ready to find their mark in her pale neck. While the irony of the situation was not lost on Ethan, he was not about to test the brunette’s resilience, so he swiftly aimed his pistol right at its head - not really thinking about causing the unwanted noise that could attract more of these, not when Cassandra was seemingly in mortal danger.

Ethan needn’t have bothered. Before he could even squeeze the trigger, with some agile footwork that saw her put most of her body’s mass into the blow, Cassandra’s shoulder struck at the undead’s jaw, producing a nasty cracking noise; in that same motion, the woman easily flowed around the zombie’s clumsy grip, only to end right behind it. A swift and brutal neck snap maneuver followed. It was painfully obvious to both gaping men that this deadly move was something she had plenty of both theoretical and practical experience in performing.

Finally, the fallen zombie - down and with its jaw broken, but not out of the fight - attempted to grasp at her ankle, yet Cassandra was easily able to free her foot from its feeble grasp, before stomping right at its head - once, twice, thrice - until the skull itself cracked and the zombie stopped moving. If she was at all bothered that her torn stocking-clad sole was now caked in skull and brain fragments, she showed no sign of it.

The sight of the carnage that just took place made both men wince in synchronicity, with the display being particularly traumatic for Ethan, who remembered well that he himself was once in a position not unlike the unfortunate zombie - except Cassandra had chosen to help him stand up back then, instead of crushing his skull, thankfully.

“Can I just express my admiration for your zombie-slaying prowess, Miss Dimitrescu?”

Very likely smirking under her respirator, Cassandra clearly enjoyed the positive attention she received from Dion, with her response coming in cocky as expected, even as she pulled out her knife from a zombie’s cranium with practiced nonchalance, using the deceased man’s own suit to clean the blood off.

“You may.”

Unfortunately, however, the breath-taking display took its toll on her injured body, and before she could strut back to them, the brunette collapsed to her knees, while hissing in obvious pain and clutching at her wounded side. Fresh blackish blood started to trail from the injury in question, right through and down her pale fingers.

Showcasing his own incredible reaction times and speed, Ethan was at her side in a heartbeat, helping her stand up while mumbling out the obvious - to her ire, “You’ve reopened your wound, Cass!”

“Fuck…” The woman was clearly in pain, as she hissed a curse through clenched teeth.

Guiding Cassandra to the nearby bench, Ethan motioned for Dion to procure a fresh bandage from the small first aid kid he had liberated from the shelter’s extensive stores. Thankfully, the local officials did not skimp on stocking the emergency shelters.

Accepting the kit with a simple nod of gratitude, Ethan got to work. After all the training sessions with Chris, he was well-versed in applying first aid. Letting out a sigh, Ethan did not waste any time in addressing the grisly injury in her abdomen. 

The previous, blood-soaked bandage was carefully removed, while the bleeding wound - which really needed proper medical care, and not mere first aid, as it was torn around by some kind of serrated flechette - tenderly cleaned with an antiseptic cloth. The best he could do now was to spray the injury with the blood-clotting stimulant to temporarily stop the bleeding, while applying a fresh antiseptic bandage. It was a mere step above slapping a band-aid on it, but it was all they could do right now.

Throughout the brief procedure, Cassandra has not said a word, but Ethan was not blind to several tears that trickled down her eyes. He was quite sure that they were not caused by pain, however, even though the woman had undoubtedly suffered more than a little physical discomfort at this moment.

“You’re not a burden, Cass.”

Knowing her and seeing the signs of mounting frustration in her tense frame, Ethan felt like this was what gnawed on her heart and the comforting words left his month before he could even process them himself.

The heavy scoff that was her response implied that Ethan was quite correct in his assumptions, yet not convincing enough to completely dispel that laughable notion.

“I… I am just slowing you down.”

The admission was delivered in a tone that was everything Cassandra ordinarily wasn’t - meek, quiet, dejected. And even if Ethan agreed with that statement, it was far too late to do anything about it - the safety of the shelter was behind them and none of them would turn back at this juncture. But Ethan was not conceited enough to judge Cassandra for her burning desire to assist her family, or her moment of weakness right now.

“As if.” Done with addressing her injury, Ethan did not hesitate in doing something that would’ve surely cost him an arm and a leg at one point of their acquaintance - he placed both of his hands at the sides of Cassandra’s head, turning it back up in a way that saw their gazes connect. Seeing that he had her full attention, Ethan spoke from the heart.

“None of us are some kind of an all-powerful comic-book superhero. We all need help from time to time, Cass. There is no shame in having a moment of weakness.” Feeling like he was getting through to her, Ethan continued, adding some genuine mirth into his words as he spoke them, “And well, you’ve kicked these zombies’ collective ass in seconds , Cass. I bet it would take me and Dion as much time doing the same as it took me to address your wound. You’re not slowing us down at all.”

Cassandra said nothing, but her expressive amber eyes spoke for her - by relaxing into a peaceful shape.

In turn, Dion opened his mouth, as if to protest the point that questioned his own zombie-slaying skills, but apparently decided against it, instead merely conceding, “Indeed, Miss Dimitrescu. Captain is one lucky bastard to have such a badass girlfriend.”

Hearing that, Cassandra let out a small gasp of uncertain meaning, before letting out a stupefied, “Girlfriend?”

Under his respirator, Ethan couldn’t contain a growing smirk at her unexpected shyness, though he was also quite aware that they have wasted enough time here. “Can you stand, Cassi?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Carefully, in a way not to exacerbate her wound, Cassandra stood up, even as her hand squeezed Ethan’s own, showing her appreciation for his support. Moreover, while the tough woman would never admit it outloud, she drew no shortage of strength from the spoken implication that Chris cared about her, as well as from Ethan’s own affectionate nickname. 

Decades ago, Cassandra swore to never allow her human weakness to govern her actions, though the resolution of Miranda’s crisis made her seriously reconsider her priorities. Nevertheless, even mere years ago, back in Cuba, Cassandra could not have even imagined developing such deep bonds with human outsiders, yet now, it felt as if her very soul was energized with warmth from just such bonds. It was Raul who had first shown her that she was not too far gone to have non-violent human contact, but it was Ethan and Chris who had confirmed that her friendship with the Cuban outcast was not just some freak accident that could never be repeated. She could still return to this world she had scorned for so long.

And now - after a seemingly endless life of bitterness, Cassandra found herself all too happy to allow her heart of ice to melt. Her broken body, as if invigorated by these bright thoughts and kind words, regained the strength to move on, once again.

“I hope Chris is okay…”

Nobody was as surprised by Cassandra’s words of genuine care for some human man, especially since they were spoken with rare tenderness, as was she herself. But the truth is, just like Bela had come to care for Ethan, so did Cassandra find herself caring about that silly man-thing that was known as Chris Redfield. Even though originally she saw him as little more than just some delicious looking piece of meat that could satisfy her carnal cravings, Cassandra could not deny her ever-growing attraction to the large captain. The unexpected depth of his complex character and the enormous suffering he had lived - no, not merely lived through, but fought through - was like a beacon of light, which Cassandra could not ignore even if she wanted to. A lifetime of struggle and hardship, and the resilience to get through it all to fight another day - that was something Cassandra could relate to on the most primal of levels. That’s why, the reassurance that soon came from Dion meant the world to her.

“Captain is one tough son of a bitch. He’ll get through whatever these Bloodfang bastards throw at him in one piece - count on it.”

Even as they resumed their brisk pace towards their destination, Ethan added his own two cents, further encouraging the brunette. “You of all people should show that Chris is not easily brought down, Cass. He is honestly the last person I’d worry about…” What started as a reassurance, however, quickly degraded into an unspoken plea, to which Cassandra was not deaf or blind to, especially since Ethan briefly turned his head back, to longingly gaze in the direction where the contact with Bela’s team was lost.

“Bela is just fine, Ethan.”

The firmness of her statement was unquestionable.

“I sure hope so, Cass.”

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say, since a playful, but firm slap soon connected with the back of his head, followed by an admonishment, “Leave your hope for when there is uncertainty. Bela is alive and well. I know it. I am certain of it.”

Her conviction was infectious, but Ethan still turned his head to gaze into her amber eyes, curious as from whence she drew such certainty. Seeing the unspoken question, Cassandra, not stopping, provided a peculiar answer.

“The bonds of sisterhood that tie us transcend the material plane.”

While Ethan would never consider Cassandra dim-witted - not even close - that particular enigmatic statement did not sound like something she would normally come up with. Her next words confirmed his suspicions, though they also provided a strange kind of solace.

“Bela has once said it. I never really knew what it meant, but now? I think I do.” Turning her narrowed gaze to a direction of their destination, Cassandra placed one hand upon the bloodied patch of her suit, right over her black heart.

“Bela is just fine, Ethan.”

Even though she simply repeated her previous statement, somehow it was enough to dispel any lingering doubt that remained within Ethan. And a good thing too, since with their final destination all but in sight, the noises of violence and mayhem intensified, implying that their aid would be most welcome. Muzzle flashes could be seen, coming from a tower-like building located on the university’s campus, seemingly directed at the large apartment complex opposite it, which was used by the Anti-Connection Task Force as their HQ. The glow and smoke of ground-based fires were visible even through the thick cover of viral mist. 

Chaos beckoned, and Ethan was not too keen to answer its call. But of course, for his beloved child, Ethan was ready to brave Hell itself. Though it was a different thought that gave him resolve that went even beyond fatherly love, if such a thing was even possible.

Wherever she is, Bela is alright.

 

***

 

Bela was most definitely not alright as she gazed upon her poor sister, who had already suffered so much, yet the uncaring fate had seen fit to bestow yet more trials and tribulations her way.

For a moment, Bela still played the part of a loyal lapdog in her stolen hazmat suit, and therefore, did nothing but observe the cruel mockery that was taking place. Daniela and Catherine, arranged against Mia and her lackeys - including a young boy, who happened to be Bela’s original goal in this fucked up mess of an operation they meticulously planned for the last three days. Of course, the personal nature of the current predicament left no room for Bela to care about the boy all that much, beyond noting the fact that he all but glued himself to Mia’s back, concealing himself from the rest - acting much like a normal kid of his age would in such a situation - scared and seeking comfort and safety from what was likely his mother figure.

Forgetting about the kid for now, Bela focused her attention on her current person of interest - the tall man who had accompanied Mia. The way he spoke and acted implied that he was the true mastermind behind the calamity that has befallen New York City. Even Mia herself seemed to act in a subservient capacity towards him, as he ordered his underlings around.

Bela’s every muscle tensed in her body as the arrogant bastard at Mia’s side finally concluded his villainous posturing and proceeded with his vile schemes that made every fiber of her being lust for his blood. As the mysterious man, Mia, one Replica Bodyguard and the kid departed the parking lot, Bela had to suppress the urge to immediately break the charade and rush after them.

The elder sibling’s initial plan was to intercept Mia and the strange man - Fettel, Mia had referred to him - before they would be able to threaten Alcina and Rose. The cold pragmatist within her, who valued efficiency above everything else, demanded her to do just that. Mia and Fettel were as vulnerable as they would get right now, with just one Replica bodyguard, and plenty of opposition to carve through. This was a golden opportunity - with everyone distracted by the fight that would take place, quietly slip away and follow the trio of people whose elimination would solve everything. If she acted fast, Bela was sure that she could probably even sneak behind them - a knife to the neck for Mia and a pistol round to the head for Fettel, and off she goes in a swarm, leaving the bodyguard scratching his head over the corpses of his charges. An almost perfect plan, with just one drawback. A critical drawback.

 

Daniela would be left behind to fend for herself.

 

Visibly exhausted as the redheaded Dimitrescu was, Bela was not sure that she would last ten seconds against the deadly Replica Elite, much less be able to prevail against him. Even Cassandra at her strongest struggled against his kind, after all.

Could she truly abandon her youngest sister to ensure the safety of Mother and Rose? Every second spent in this underground lot could be the deciding factor for their fates.

The crushing responsibility of this fateful choice stole the breath from her lungs; a lesser person would’ve been utterly crippled by it, to the point of being paralyzed and saving nobody.

Bela Dimitrescu, however, was not a person easily cowed. As if in slow motion, the eldest daughter witnessed the start of the fight, with the Replica Elite rushing Daniela with his shock baton primed and ready to put some hurt on her little sister.

In this millisecond, the decision was made. She could never leave Daniela behind. Not after everything they have been through, together. The decades of both joy and sorrow; the deepest of miseries, as well as the grandest cheer; the unspeakable anguish and the serenity of solace - all shared, hardships and triumphs alike.

 

The bonds of their sisterhood would not be broken by her - not today, not ever.

 

Even if this decision would see an unenviable fate befall upon both Rose and Alcina, Bela would be able to live with it, though her heart would forever weep for them. But she would never be able to live with herself, if her cherished little sister met her demise while she was in a position to help.

Bela had made her choice, but her mind still worked on overdrive, coming up with a plan to see this conflict resolved in as efficient a way as possible. The trio of hazmat grunts who had so kindly provided her with a ride here were mere humans, and while she would not be as conceited as to dismiss them as harmless, the Replica Elite had to be dispatched first. Not only could they not afford a prolonged skirmish, but Bela was not actually looking to start a fair fight against an opponent who gave even Cassandra trouble. Not that she ever had any reservations about fighting dirty against these scumbags - when it came to the survival of your family, honor had to take a backseat.

Now, with her plan set in stone, Bela did not waste a further moment. Armed with a sidearm that was looted alongside the hazmat suit, Bela took swift aim, but had to hold her fire, as the Replica was simply too fast, and she knew well that her marksmanship skills were merely adequate, and her ability to score a headshot against a moving target under question. She could not afford to simply waste the priceless element of surprise she currently possessed, with nobody paying her any mind.

Thankfully, an opportunity presented itself soon enough, though Bela cursed her own weakness for allowing even potential harm to befall Daniela - who dodged the first swing of his baton with athletic grace, though the lightning-fast follow up forced the redhead to tumble to the floor - opening her for a finishing blow.

To her horror, Bela realized that the shock baton would connect with Daniela before she could adjust the aim with her pistol - the freak moved that fast. Yet dulling the horror with surprise, the Replica immediately ceased his offense, while grunting in what sounded more akin to annoyance than distress as a barrage of small-caliber rounds struck him centermass.

It was Catherine - with whom Bela herself was only briefly acquainted - who shot at the bastard she was aiming at all this time, with truly remarkable bravery, considering the circumstances.

Even though three (four, as far as Catherine herself was concerned) bloodthirsty killers on the sidelines were just itching to join in on the action, the woman did not hesitate to unload her service weapon upon his frame - in order to protect her monstrous friend and a comrade-in-arms, even if the retaliation for her action would be swift and deadly.

Predictably, the leader of the Bloodfang was quick to take aim at Catherine himself, while scoffing in frustration as the so-called duel was interrupted.

 

And this was finally the moment Bela was waiting all this time. The Replica Elite was unhurt - the advanced body armor easily stopping the pistol rounds from penetrating, while his enhanced body withstood the kinetic impacts - but momentarily staggered.

A moment is all she needed, and her right hand’s finger squeezed the trigger three times, while her left hand slammed her dagger right into the Bloodfang leader’s neck.

The rounds struck true - at least some of them - and the Replica promptly collapsed to his knees from the force of bullets striking him right in the head. Evoking a curse from Bela’s lips, a number of sparks accompanied the impacts, implying that even his reinforced headgear was able to withstand the low-caliber bullets.

Still, even without penetration, the combined kinetic energy of the rounds was enough to at least temporarily daze the superhuman soldier, and Bela would not waste this opportunity. 

Moving with barely human grace, the elder Dimitrescu daughter brutally yanked on her dagger, pulling it out of the leader’s neck, with a small fountain of pressurized blood to accompany its departure from his flesh.

In turn, finally wising up to the wolf hiding among their herd, the remaining two Bloodfang let out gasps of distress, even as they attempted to turn around to address the newest threat.

The man to the left of Bela didn’t get the chance to as much as say a word or perform any action, since the dagger carved a bloody path across his throat, while the terrorist to her right managed to get out a partial condemnation, “Traito…” before a point-blank pistol round made a neat little hole in his forehead, though his brain was less fortunate, as the fragmented low-velocity round made a bloody mess out of it once the back of the skull proved too tough to get through and fragmented it.

“To betray something, one must have been once loyal to it in the first place.”

Bela would lie if she claimed that certain parts of her did not feel a modicum of satisfaction as the trio of scumbags collapsed more or less simultaneously. The vicious side of her was happy that these terrorist bastards got what they deserved; the meticulous side praised her for the flawless execution, while a certain, often-suppressed, badass side cheered her one-liner.

Of course, there was no time to admire her handiwork, as the Replica Elite had already recovered. Seeing the most immediate threat in Catherine - who, despite the shock of witnessing Bela’s actions, still frantically attempted to reload her sidearm - the brutal supersoldier hurled his shock baton her way. The melee weapon, thrown with remarkable precision and strength, struck its intended target right in the stomach with its energized tip, causing Catherine to double over in pain from the sheer power behind the impact. The electricity that soon coursed through her, however, inflicted even more damage upon her battered frame. Ravaged by uncaring energy, Catherine tumbled to the floor like a bag of rocks, though even downed, her form continued to twitch for several more seconds, while thin lines of blackish smoke lazily trickled up from her. Clearly, that shock baton was not a non-lethal kind.

Naturally, Bela did not merely observe it while twiddling her thumbs. Even as Catherine went down, the elder daughter lined up another shot, while noting the crawling form of Daniela, reaching for a discarded battle rifle. Bela’s pistol might have been insufficient to penetrate the Replica’s advanced armor, but that heavy rifle looked like it could do the trick - all the elder sister had to do was buy time.

‘Click’

To her horror, all the looted gun in her hands did was click empty once she squeezed its trigger for the fourth time.

What!? What kind of a moron loads his pistol with only four rounds? And damn me for not checking it beforehand!

Seemingly aware of both Bela’s conundrum to his right and Daniela’s attempt at arming up to his left, the Replica did not hesitate to go for the obvious target.

Standing up within a single heartbeat, the supersoldier proceeded to make his way towards the downed redhead, only to deliver a bone-crushing kick against her side. The devastating attack saw Daniela launched into a vicious roll that ended with her body smashing against the bulky device in the middle of the parking lot. Letting out a pained whimper that Bela would not be able to forget, Daniela did not attempt to stand up again.

In turn, Bela felt her black blood boiling in her veins at the sight of her sweetheart sister being subjected to such savage treatment. Even though Bela scorned Cassandra’s cruel ways, for this motherless cur, she would make an exception.

“I’ll make you pay for that.”

The cold rage that permeated every spoken syllable would’ve made even a hardened human fighter take a momentary pause to possibly reassess his life choices that led him to this moment.

Instead, the Replica merely let out a sound akin to a derisive snort and in that same instance of time, turned around and in a motion that appeared blurry even to Bela’s keen eyes, unholster his submachine gun, and filled the elder Dimitrescu daughter full of lead.

Or well, that was his intent, at least.

Energized by her hatred for this vile man, Bela’s chimeric body had no issue in avoiding the damage by morphing her vulnerable human flesh into a buzzing swarm of flies - right inside her hazmat suit. The myriad of bullets sent her way went through the fabric of the suit; the preternaturally aware bugs arranging themselves in such a way to minimize the damage from the projectiles, though a number of them perished, nevertheless. Regardless, it was the vehicle behind Bela that ended up being filled with lead and not their intended target.

Undaunted by loss of her swarm members, the vampire proceeded to discard the worthless sidearm, then tore her hazmat suit open with her own two hands. Half-swarm, half-human and no longer restricted by the bulky protective wear, Bela was ready to go all out against the brute who had dared to lay his hands upon their youngest. To aid her in that task, ever keen for details, her eyes were swift to take note of all the weaponry strewn about the parking lot - that resembled a battlefield more than anything else. A 40mm grenade launcher, in particular, looked like a proper way to fully express the price for laying a hand upon a lady from House Dimitrescu.

Still, she would not underestimate this opponent and go about executing her bloody plan openly. Concealing her left arm behind her back, Bela awaited her enemy’s next move, even as her hidden limb sneakingly converted whole into the swarming mass of insects - who then proceeded to trail down her body and inconspicuously disperse, only to go about collecting their prize - out of sight, but not out of mind.

Meanwhile, the Replica recognized Bela as the bug mutant the moment she tore free of her stolen hazmat suit, and likewise, adjusted his tactics to fit the situation. Twirling his submachine gun back into its belt-mounted holster, the masked goon charged right at the blonde, fist raised in obvious intent. Perhaps too obvious.

In turn, raising a single eyebrow at the peculiar attack, Bela was prepared to dodge it, but what she wasn’t prepared for was a sonic grenade the Replica procured from one of his many vest pockets during his charge. The moment his rushing strike predictably - for both of them - failed, the Elite smashed the orb-like device against the floor underneath them.

With the blonde unable to avoid it, the ultrasonic wave washed against Bela like a tsunami would over some coastal town - crippling her with its piercing noise. Disoriented by the exotic weapon, every single detached insect had no choice but to instinctively return to meld back with her flesh.

Momentarily paralyzed, the blonde couldn’t help herself but fall onto her knees, while feebly clutching at her ears, and the Elite did not waste a second. Roughly grabbing the stunned woman by her hair, he proceeded to unceremoniously drag her all the way underneath the still-leaking pipe, causing her whole body to become dripping wet.

“You stupid bitch. Did you honestly think we would come unprepared for your filthy kind?” 

Still dazed, but recovering swiftly, Bela could barely decipher his mocking words through the ringing in her ears. In turn, the Replica continued to drag her, now to what appeared to be an unremarkable wall, gloating all the while.

“After your little stunt in France, we have learned all there is to know about you. All your strengths - such as they are… and all your many, many weaknesses.”

Almost ready to assume her swarm form and break free from his hold, Bela could only gasp in fright as the Replica slammed his fist right through the wall, showcasing his own unnatural power. But what truly horrified her, was the fact that this location was clearly chosen for a specific purpose, as a stream of cold steam rushed right through the hole.

“You weak, pathetic, bug.”

The Replica held her tight by the nape of her neck, as the chilling current washed all over her soaked body, freezing the liquid. Having almost fully recovered from the incapacitating effects of the sonic grenade, Bela still could not transform, try as she might - not with the frozen water clinging to majority of her body and locking her form to that of a human.

“You’ve provided as much of a challenge as I expected - which is not much at all.”

Reversing his grip on her, the masked freak held Bela in a crushing grasp around her neck with his left hand. Clearly, the supersoldier savored this moment, as he then proceeded to lift her up against the wall, with his right hand raising for what was likely going to be the killing blow.

“Splattering you across the wall will be my pleasure, nevertheless.”

Not one to go quietly into the night, the woman snarled and kicked at the freak, while fruitlessly attempting to dislodge his grip on her. A single well-placed kick from her should’ve been capable of shattering a human bone, yet the Replica merely grunted in annoyance. Likewise, try as she might, his bone-crushing grip would not budge - not with Bela only having her right arm attached to her body, at the moment. With her form locked onto its human shape by the frozen liquid, that very well could’ve been the end of Bela Dimitrescu, if not for her little contingency plan.

For whatever reason, the Replica refused to break eye contact with her, and therefore he failed to note, or failed to care about her conspicuously missing arm. In a way, he reminded Bela of Cassandra - during her darkest, most sadistic episodes, when even the clarity of mind would give way to the primal desire of blind dominance. 

“What, no last words? No pleas for mercy?”

Bela only smirked in response, as her own surprise for this bastard was just about ready to be delivered. 

Bored with her silence and seemingly about to demolish her head with his fist, the Replica didn’t get the chance to do so. 

Perhaps not the intended use of such a device, but it works just fine as the blunt force instrument - so the inconspicuous swarm of bugs that collected it earlier and now struggled to keep it afloat right over his head, let their burden drop. 

While a relatively compact and lightweight weapon for the amount of damage it can inflict upon the battlefield, a loaded M32 grenade launcher is not something that one would want to fall down upon their head. Not even a gene-enhanced Replica.

To Bela’s immense satisfaction, the brute that was about to end her existence stumbled a step back, clearly dazed from the impact produced by a 6kg weapon colliding with his head from a height of 5 meters. Perhaps, given his unnatural origins, he could recover even from that fast enough, given an opportunity - which Bela would not grant him.

The swarm that made up her left arm returned to reconstitute her missing limb swiftly. Meanwhile, the woman herself did not hesitate to once again employ her loyal dagger, which she previously concealed in her pants’ pocket. With the man being dazed by the staggering impact and Bela’s mold-enhanced strength, it was a child’s play to plunge the Dimitrescu family dagger right through his headgear’s reinforced lens.

The noise of shattering glass was immediately followed by a scream of pain, perking that sadistic part of Bela up. Finally, this worthless bastard is screaming! 

Still, she would not relent in her assault - no opportunity to recover could be given, as this foe has proven himself dangerous beyond what she had initially expected. Employing her newfound leverage, the agile bug-woman pressed her back against the wall, while both of her feet found themselves slamming against the freak’s armored chest, simultaneously pushing him away from her. 

Dazed and disoriented as the Replica was, the blow was powerful enough to send him tumbling to the floor quite some distance away from the vampire; Bela herself landed on her rear, with the fallen grenade launcher helpfully lying right next to her. Shifting her gaze from her foe to the weapon and back, Bela’s next course of action was set in stone.

Once again showcasing his unnatural resilience, the Elite was already trying to crawl towards her, with his mask’s remaining malefic orange eye lens burning with what Bela could only interpret as the desire to eviscerate her.

Not thinking twice and just hoping that she was far enough to not be severely damaged by the explosive charge, the blonde Dimitrescu proceeded to swiftly grab the launcher and - not wasting any time on gloating or mockery - launched the 40mm projectile.

The satisfying ‘ thunk’ was succeeded by a deafening ‘boom’ - the grenade struck the bastard who had dared to harm Daniela right in his head, though Bela’s current concern lay elsewhere.

In a bid to avoid the damage to her own person, Bela curled into a ball with both her legs and hands protecting the vitals from the incoming shrapnel. Nevertheless, the scorching heatwave and the crushing shockwave made her internally curse for shooting the damn thing in such a close proximity, yet she could live with some extra burn marks and penetrating shrapnel wounds.

Let’s see how you’ll live without your head, you scum.

He didn’t. The mutilated corpse of her enemy - missing its head and a large chunk of its torso, collapsed into a gory heap.

Taking only a moment to admire her kill and wishing earnestly for that bastard to burn in hell forever, Bela quickly got up to her feet and did not hesitate to rush to Daniela’ side.

Ignoring the pain from her own numerous injuries and sensing the layer of hoarfrost covering her frame having dissipated - probably from the heat of the explosion - Bela made her way across the bloodsoaked parking lot. Her heart bled at the sorry sight of her beloved younger sister - almost unrecognizable under all the layers of grime and viscera covering her.

Oh, Dani… again, I have failed you.

Inspecting the girl for signs of life, Bela let out a sigh of relief, since they were present and stable, if a bit weak. With tenderness born out of true love, Bela brushed Daniela’s bloodied mane of hair out of her face and gently kissed her younger sister’s forehead.

Daniela would live, though the combination of exhaustion and injuries would likely see her remain incapacitated for the rest of this bloody conflict.

You’ve done enough…

More than either Bela or Cassandra ever gave her credit for, even - the elder daughter had to admit, as she finally took a chance to truly take in the devastation that visited this underground parking lot.

Mutilated corpses were strewn all over the place - a few of them were put into their namesake deceased state by Bela herself, but most of them met their ultimate fate at Daniela’s hands. 

By Bela’s quick headcount, there were around twenty bodies - in various states of dismemberment. The vast majority of them were the black-clad terrorists, though a small number of deceased FBI personnel implied that the fight that took place before Bela’s arrival was not quite as one-sided.

But even beyond the many dead littering the lot, there was the a lot of environmental damage that confirmed the vicious fighting that took place here. Spent ammunition casings all over the pavement; bullet holes decorating seemingly every wall, pillar and vehicle; discarded weapons and abandoned equipment; ruined infrastructure - leaking pipes, blowing steam, electrical fires from broken fuse boxes, damaged lightning. 

The more exotic damage - a charred husk of a car, still partially on fire; a peculiar pile of ash surrounding a blackened skeleton - was also not lost on Bela, though she did not quite have the time needed to properly analyze it, merely note it to go over later - perhaps after all this mess was truly over and done with, with a cup of hot cocoa and her favorite man-thing by her side…

Regardless, the parking lot now appeared as if straight from some action movie and Bela was not looking forward to just leaving unconscious Daniela lying on its blood-soaked pavement. What if more hostile humans show up and stumble upon her defenseless body? Recalling the sexual deviant that had attempted to have his way with her earlier, Bela could not suppress a shudder.

The blonde daughter gazed towards the stairway hall, knowing well that time was against her and her misgivings, while reasonable, could not justify any further delay. Her cherished sister was safe - as safe as one could be, under the circumstances - but her mother and Rose were under imminent threat.

Resolved to keep going, Bela did the best she could for her younger sibling, and lifted her incapacitated body - only to swiftly move her into a corner of the parking lot that was obscured from view by several black sedans. A small thing, but it could mean the difference between life and death, were any friends of the deceases terrorists come poking around while Bela was handling her business upstairs.

Gently lowering her sister onto the unfortunately cold pavement, Bela did not miss the way Daniela’s eyelids opened so very slightly, or how Daniela’s lips let out a couple of words - so very weakly.

“You came for me, sister…”

“Of course I did, sweetheart. I will always come for you.” Bela placed another tender kiss on Daniela’s forehead, “You’ve done enough, Dani. Rest now.”

Too weak to do anything but that, Daniela merely let out a tired, “Mhm…” before closing her eyes again.

 

Her precious sister was alive and well, and that’s all Bela needed to keep going. One final confrontation awaited her, so the blonde Dimitrescu would not keep it waiting any longer.

Despite going through quite the ordeal in her fight with the Replica, Bela sensed every muscle in her body taut and ready; plenty of mold-rich blood still coursing in her veins. Moving with brisk steps, the elder daughter crossed the distance to the stairway hall in mere moments, though she did not forget to pick up the most impressive-looking gun that happened to be in her path. A battle rifle - firing the full-powered rifle rounds - a good option when facing opponents in heavy body armor. With her sickle left behind when she took on the guise of the hazmat-clad terrorist and her loyal dagger destroyed by the blast, this human weapon was a welcome addition on her quest to protect her family.

Not stopping, Bela made sure to properly check her chosen armament this time, and to her satisfaction found the magazine half-full and the weapon in working condition with a single test firing.

Now armed and feeling particularly dangerous, Bela was ready to confront Mia and Fettel, but before she could finally vacate the blood-soaked parking lot, a peculiar feeling made the keen vampire stop dead in her tracks. 

All the remaining lights suddenly started flickering erratically, causing her heart to skip a beat. An eerily chill washed over her frame, causing goosebumps to appear all over her skin. Turning around, Bela had to suppress a gasp as she spotted a young girl in a red dress, standing right over the corner where she had left Daniela. Even though the girl looked similar to Eveline, the blonde immediately knew that she was most definitely not Eveline - Bela was not even sure how she knew that, but the certainty of that fact left no room for doubts in her mind.

The girl stared at the place where Daniela rested, but there was no hostility or tension in her frame; Bela could not see beyond the long locks of black hair that obscured her eyes, but she could sense sadness emanating from her. 

Blinking her eyes in shock, Bela was terrified to behold a naked, emaciated woman standing right where the girl in the red dress used to be. Just like the girl, however, the woman also had a long mane of face-obscuring black hair. But the incredulity did not end there.

Unbelievably, every single corpse sprang to life, standing up to stare in either Bela’s or Daniela’s direction - based upon which of the sisters took that particular life - Bela was swift to realize. The holes where their eyes used to be burned with the desire for vengeance. Under their scrutiny, the blonde woman found herself paralyzed completely, utterly at the mercy of this phantasmagoria.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity to flash-frozen and terrified out of her mind Bela, but in reality lasted a mere second, the naked woman turned her head in the blonde’s direction. For an insignificantly short moment, Bela could swear that she saw a bloodshot red eye, peering at her inquisitively, but before she could take a closer look herself, every single light in the parking lot had flickered off - engulfing the whole underground area in bone-chilling darkness, with only stray fires providing some minor illumination. The corner with Daniela and the girl/woman was taken by total, overwhelming darkness, unnatural in its intensity - as if the void itself came to claim a piece of this world. The silence was absolute, but not for long.

A single feminine sob pierced the veil of darkness, putting every hair on Bela’s body on edge. On their own volition, her hands clutched tightly around her looted battle rifle, even though her mind found the notion that the weapon in question could help in her current situation laughable.

Suddenly, the lights flickered back on and the malefic chill dissipated just like that - in an instant. Neither the girl in a red dress nor the naked woman was present anymore. Every single corpse returned to its rightful place - dead as it gets. There was nobody else but Bela still standing in the whole parking lot, lending the blonde an impression that everything that happened in the last several seconds was but an insane hallucination of her frenetic, overworked mind.

Letting out a calming breath, Bela shook her head in a feeble attempt to clear it from the ghastly visage. 

Just a hallucination…? Whatever, I need to save Mother and Rose!

Finally turning around, the blonde crossed the threshold that separated the underground parking lot from the rest of the building and marched to confront those that sought to harm her family.

 

Just like she expected, more corpses were there to greet her. All over the stairway, recently deceased FBI and B.S.A.A. agents were strewn about. All of them were gunned down by conventional firearms, implying that Fettel’s bodyguard did his job in clearing a path well enough. Lightly armed as they were, they never stood a chance against the juggernaut.

Counting five men and two women just from the short trek towards the reception area, Bela had to grit her teeth to suppress her own fright. Contrary to what some thought, she was not fearless and charging right into such a potent adversary was not something she did lightly, especially considering the paranormal experience she had just lived through. But with Alcina and Rose fates on the line, fear gave way to grim determination quick enough. She will suffer her nightmares after this was all done and over with - not before.

But what greeted her in the small reception area gave even the resolute daughter a pause. Five more corpses. Two gunned down in a manner not dissimilar to the previous ones, but three others? 

Were she not hardened by decades of brutality and bloodshed, Bela was sure she would vomit right here and now, as she gazed upon the headless husks. The elder daughter had absolutely no idea what kind of a wicked weapon could inflict damage like this - and she did not want to know, though she realized quick enough that she would get to know it, regardless. It appeared that the victim’s craniums popped open from some kind of an immense force rushing out from within. Like mashed overripe pumpkins, the ruined heads splattered gore and brain-matter all over and around their deceased owners, painting quite a visceral picture. Finally, unlike the other corpses, those with their heads popped still clutched to their pistols, implying that the moment that led to their demise saw their entire nervous systems locked.

Making her way through the gory mess of a reception area, Bela found herself grateful that at least she still had the heavy-duty boots on. Still, the squelching sound was quite grating on her ears and the sticky wetness was less than pleasant to wade through. Overcoming the discomfort, the blonde was quick to cover this blood-soaked area, only to discover the elevator disabled - with its panel destroyed by gunfire. Whether intentional or accidental, the stairway was the only way up, which was somewhat encouraging to Bela. Ascending the dilapidated stairway all the way to the sixth floor would take a bit of time for the party of humans, but for her? - it would take no time at all - allowing her a glimpse of hope of catching up with Mia and her cohorts before they reach their destination.

Taking on her partial swarm shape, Bela flew all the way up. Gracefully and flowingly making her way through the separate segments of the stairway, she was not deaf to the noises of gunfire and resonating screams, coming from all around. The FBI and B.S.A.A. personnel were still putting up a fight, though it was clear that the Bloodfang terrorists were pushing hard and it was a big question mark in Bela’s head, whether the remaining reserve force present in the building would be able to fight them off - Fettel and his superhuman bodyguard aside, even.

One thing at a time…

Soon, her once again solid feet touched upon the moth-eaten carpet of the sixth floor and in that same instant, her keen eyes caught the sight of her quarry. The honey-brown hair of Mia Winters; the tiny shape of the innocent kid roped into this mess; the tall silhouette of Fettel and the bulky, armored frame of his powerful bodyguard - all making their own way towards the apartment#601 - the two of the Duke’s men who stood guard over Alcina’s safety for the last three days - already lying in pools of their own blood. These were two good, loyal and honest men and Bela gritted her teeth in rage.

The desire to inflict dread retribution for all this slaughter started to outweigh her protective side, as she brought her gun up. They were at the other side of the hallway, seemingly unaware of Bela, with the bodyguard kicking the apartment’s door in. She was just in time.

Originally she had planned to dispose of Mia and Fettel, but with them being literally outside Mother’s door, she could not let this bodyguard roam free, not after witnessing his kind’s capacity for destruction. Therefore, Bela did not think twice about aiming right at his armored head, though, before she could squeeze the trigger, Fettel started speaking in a particularly annoyed tone, loud enough to imply that he was addressing Bela, even though he should’ve had no way of seeing her from his current orientation.

Another fl—”

Bela had no interest in hearing his self-important speeches. Not after witnessing a ghastly spectacle and wading through a sea of blood. Filled with near delirious rage, Bela took a millisecond to adjust her aim and let loose.

Shockingly, like clockwork, the bodyguard swirled around to face her, while rushing to stand in between his charge and her battle rifle - showcasing some truly inhuman reflexes and speed. 

Still, 7.62×51mm rifle cartridges were remarkably more powerful than 9mm pistol rounds and therefore, Bela was satisfied to note that even his advanced armor failed to fully protect the Replica. Some rounds were deflected by metal plates; some were partially stopped by the thick kevlar in between, but a couple of bullets soon tasted his flesh after finding the weak spots.

Grunting in pain, the enhanced freak still found enough strength to return fire with his submachine gun. Nevertheless, all his bullets did was harmlessly pass through her intangible shape and Bela only stopped firing once her magazine was completely exhausted.

Notes:

A bit of a cliffhanger here, haha (and here I thought I'd try and avoid them... ugh, shame on me!) Sorry for that.

I admit that the latest chapters are really complex to write, though not from lack of inspiration or desire. I actually wanted to finish this chapter like 4 days ago, but adding my suddenly fucked-up sleeping patterns that keep me perpetually tired to the aforementioned complexity resulted in this annoying delay.

Anyway, next chapter we will finally have the much-awaited Mia/Bela confrontation, though the kid (Haru - who was made from Alcina's biomass by Mia) will also play a part.

To give myself a small break from complexity and to also reassure Hello Neighbor enjoyers that I have not abandoned that story, I will be posting an update to it next, though immediately after I will get back to working on Sins.

As always, thanks to everyone who is reading/reviewing/liking the story and I hope you all have a great week! Stay safe out there! :)

Chapter 45: Confluence

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Gazing through the haze of gunpowder smoke, Bela did not hesitate in discarding her rifle once it clicked empty. As she did so, she took a moment to admire the damage she had managed to inflict upon her foes; a scowl was quick to appear on her grime-covered face once the results became apparent.

Mia and the kid stood to the side of the corridor, unharmed - but she never bothered to aim at them in the first place; if Ethan’s wife would not yield, Bela was prepared to strangle the traitorous woman with her bare hands, however. Nevertheless, her primary target - that vile man who sought to threaten her mother - was not as much as scratched, with his enhanced bodyguard soaking every bullet meant for him.

The sight of the Replica Bodyguard collapsing in a heap against the wall - now smeared with his dark red blood - was a minor consolidation; at least she didn’t have to contend with another superhuman freak.

That small comfort turned out to be a short-lived one as well, once Fettel’s face contorted into a grimace of rage. Seems like his mask of arrogance and self-assurance has finally cracked, giving way to unbridled fury. 

“I’ve had ENOUGH of your kind!”

Understandably wary, as she still had little clue about the enigmatic man’s combat capabilities, Bela, nevertheless, started to approach them; her keen eyes taking on every detail, meanwhile. She was not going to get caught off-guard again. Not with the stakes that high, not when her mother counted on her to prevail.

Still, despite her caution, Bela was not prepared when Fettel leveled a petrifying glare her way. 

The sheer intensity of his gaze froze her dead in her tracks. Neither Miranda’s nor Alcina’s anger-fueled glares could even compare to it. It felt like she stared into the depth of the void itself, with his unnatural black irises being portals into it. An entire reality, seemingly made out of nothing but malice and hatred was open to her - and it was not a pleasant experience. 

Unable to tear her gaze away - indeed, unable to move at all - Bela could not resist the raw malice that was seemingly channeled right into her being.

The dark, unspeakable and unfathomable energy filled her entire essence, only to spill into the material realm once there was no space left within her soul for its overwhelming darkness.

 

Reality itself faded and Bela found herself surrounded by a seemingly infinite void. The umbral environment was perfectly reflected by a mind-boggling haze that settled over her mind, making Bela struggle to recollect where exactly she had been or what she was doing before ending up in this dark space.

All alone in the dark, the woman did not get the chance to wallow in her loneliness or a sudden onset of amnesia, as a circle of faint light appeared right next to her. 

A person, with their hooded head held downcast, stood in that circle. But even without being able to fully see the person’s face, Bela knew their identity intimately. A sickle clutched in a gloved hand, a black hooded dress over an hourglass figure; long, wavy locks of blonde hair; bloody smears around smirking dark lips. Without a shadow of a doubt, Bela was staring at herself. 

Or… at least the version of her that could’ve been, Bela realized as soon as the figure finally raised her head to stare with her baleful yellow eyes; not a speck of compassion or kindness in them.

The figure was a dark, twisted reflection of Bela - the one that had embraced her monstrous nature fully and reveled in the slaughter she committed. Mercy was a foreign concept to this cruel being; no callous atrocity or foul deed was beneath her; humans - the lesser beings that they were - existed only to satiate her hunger or stave off her boredom.

This was Bela that could’ve been. 

The dark reflection smirked, and Bela suddenly noted that she stood in dark red liquid up to her ankles. Innocent blood, she had spilt so freely. Before long, she also became aware of all the shadowy silhouettes that surrounded their little circle of light. 

Disembodied ghosts, drifting in from every direction, hundreds of them; their twisted visages frozen in perpetual agony. Their precise count was beyond Bela’s ability to calculate from sight alone, but not beyond her knowledge of her own deeds. Two hundred and sixty four. Every soul I’ve consigned to oblivion with my own hands.

Confronted by her victims, the weight of her crimes became crushingly heavy on Bela’s soul, but her twisted reflection merely grinned in cruel mockery. She was ready to slay that number all over again.

I won’t let you.

Trying to take a step forward to confront her evil doppelganger, to her horror, Bela found out that she couldn’t - for just like the ghosts all around her, she was a mere disembodied spark.

All too aware of Bela’s conundrum, her evil dark sent a nasty leer her way, before letting out a chuckle. 

“I am the real Bela. You’re just a minute lapse of judgment - a fake that got too attached to her food .”

It's like her world suddenly turned inside out and Bela could do nothing but silently cry out against her fate. Am I… a fake? What… is real?

“Embrace oblivion… and fade away…”

Surrounded by nothing but the lucid reminders of her innumerable sins; with benevolent memories that has tethered Bela to the realm of the living being shrouded by the veil of haze - fading away did not sound too bad, actually. All the blood she had spilled; all the misery she caused; all the families torn apart. Oblivion beckoned and Bela found herself not that opposed to heeding its call.

Before she could close her non-existent eyes in resignation, however, another shadow silhouette appeared out of the crowd of ghosts - this one an eerily familiar masculine shape, exuding bright, blinding light. Not missing a beat, the newcomer rushed right at Bela’s twisted reflection, only to plunge an ethereal dagger into her blackened heart. 

The mortal wound caused the dark doppelganger to scream in agony, with hoarfrost swiftly covering her black dress and pale skin alike. Falling to her knees, she desperately tried to stem the bleeding with both gloved hands, but the blackish liquid trickled freely through her fingers, proving her efforts to be in vain. In turn, as if not having any time to waste on her, the blinding figure departed the circle of light, vanishing as swiftly as he came. Even though her own grim fate soon regained her full attention, Bela couldn’t help but note that the assembled ghosts momentarily parted to allow for his unimpeded departure.

Forgetting about the mysterious stranger and disembodied as she was, Bela had no choice but to witness the last, agonized moments of her own self. 

Kneeling in a pool of blood and surrounded by her numerous victims, crying in a guttural tone of hatred and misery, Bela Dimitrescu stiffened as she crystallized, before shattering into countless fragments, which soon vanished under the surface of the bloody pool. Nobody was there to save her. Nobody was there to mourn her. 

This is my fate. To die alone and forgotten. To fade away.

The intrusive thoughts did not feel like her own, but Bela was past caring. Exhausted by dark visions, she was ready to embrace the oblivion and the solace it offered.

Fade away…

The ghosts murmured their uncompromising demand in perfect unison. How could Bela possibly refuse her victims’ combined desire for her final demise? Especially when the prospect of eternal rest appeared so tempting to her addled mind…

Fully at peace with the prospect of eternal oblivion, Bela felt her remaining essence starting to dissipate.

It's for the best…

Burdened by decades of sin, Bela’s soul did not resist the ethereal currents that would soon grind her into nothingness.

It’s a trick - don’t give in! It’s all just a trick - wake up!

The echoing voice resonated all across this twisted dimension. Bela could not put a name to the voice, even if it did appear eerily familiar, but that didn’t even matter to her. What mattered was the fact that the resolve in that voice somehow dispelled the mind-numbing veil that Bela only now realized was hanging over her all this time in this accursed mindscape. 

In an instant, Bela was able to remember that she was about to confront Mia and her mysterious handler before finding herself lost in the darkness. Moreover, she recalled poor Anna - the Duke’s steward who got possessed by a man with unnatural powers over the mind. Connecting two and two in a heartbeat, she realized that Fettel was that man, and now he was trying to do the same with her. With the aid of his psionic powers, he likely aimed to either possess her body or perhaps even to obliterate her mind utterly - leaving just an empty husk that could not hope to oppose his wicked plans.

 

WAKE UP!

 

Somehow feeling whole once again and opening her eyes, Bela spotted a previously unseen path that led to a door of light. The ghosts still crowded around, preventing access to it, however, but Bela would not let this chance to escape this nightmare pass. Now that she remembered all the people that cared about her; all the people she herself loved, the offered oblivion did not seem even remotely tempting.

“I am sorry… but you’re in the way!”

Barreling right through the specters with her suddenly tangible body, Bela reached the door in seconds and the moment she did, the twisted dimension of darkness dissipated.  

 

Bela’s heart beat like mad in her chest, but that only made the woman aware of how alive she was. Letting out a gasp as if emerging from a pond after holding her breath for minutes, Bela found herself back in realspace - back in that corridor, with her feet firmly pressing against the moth-eaten carpet and her nemesis standing right where he was; Mia and the kid behind him.

Even if she were to survive this ordeal, Bela was sure that today’s unnatural events would haunt her for the years to come. Still, showcasing her formidable mental resilience, it took the blonde a mere second to regain her wit and become fully aware of her surroundings, once again.

Fettel was clearly not happy about the fact that Bela managed to break through his psionic illusion, and perhaps even suffered from some kind of neural feedback, caused by her unexpected resistance, since a thin line of blood was now trailing from his left nostril. Growling in anger, the man swiped the blood away with two fingers, before refocusing his efforts.

Another trick?!

To her chagrin, before she could do anything with her freshly-liberated body, Bela found herself at the mercy of his unnatural powers once again. This time, however, there were no dark visions and grim landscapes, but a torrent of raw power that flooded her system. So strong was the intangible force that streamed into her, that Bela sensed her every nerve on fire - locking her muscles and constricting airways. 

The internal pressure kept on rising and like some kind of sorcerer out of myth, Fettel, with but a jerk of his head, was able to redirect the stream of energy upwards - right into her own head. The frighteningly material power soon became too much for her poor cranium as it desperately sought a way to escape its prison of flesh and bone, and Bela - even in throes of agony - was quick to realize what exactly was going to happen next, for she saw plenty of headless corpses on her way up here.

That was not to be her fate, however, and if this vile man thought to best her that easily, he was in for a surprise.

With but a thought from her, human flesh and bone that made up Bela's head had morphed into black blowflies and the unnatural force that threatened to annihilate her, instead harmlessly dispersed into the ambient air. 

Instead of a shower of gore and viscera from her pulped cranium - like he had expected - Fettel was greeted by a swarm of insects rushing in every direction to go along with the flow of invisible force; slowly returning back to their host body as the psionic shockwave dissipated.

Shockingly to everyone who was unfortunate enough to bear witness to this otherworldly scene, Bela’s headless body still stood perfectly straight, as it continued to receive direction from the larger hivemind that oversaw the superorganism that was Bela Dimitrescu.

Even as swarming insects started to rearrange themselves into a familiar pattern overhead, the body took a step forward. In turn, Fettel took a single, tentative step backwards. More out of desire to reassure herself than to assert dominance - though that played a part as well - Bela directed her right, clenched hand to lift straight forward, before raising her middle finger in a universal gesture of ‘ fuck you’.

Unfortunately, without her human eyes, she could not truly behold his reaction in all its delicious details, but his jerky movement backwards implied enough. Even this blood-soaked killer had finally found himself outside of his comfort zone and, perhaps, was even afraid of her. 

The notion that this fearsome mastermind could be just another cowardly little man-thing, once bereft of his army of obedient Replica and with his unnatural powers proven ineffective against her, was empowering for Bela. The fear from experiencing these unnatural events and living through his mind-addling tricks gave way to surety of purpose and unyielding resolve.

With her composure regained, the swarming insects once again melded together before connecting to her stump of a neck and reforming her head.

“That’s gonna give me a headache.”

Perhaps a bit overly dramatic, Bela stretched her neck. Psychological warfare was just as important as physical violence and the elder sibling would not miss this opportunity to unnerve her foe by her theatrical bravado.

In turn, Fettel took another tentative step backward and Bela’s eyes did not miss the way his hand brushed over his pistol holster, before returning back to his side, as its owner no doubt realized how futile that act of aggression would’ve been against her. The uncertainty in his posture and movements did nothing but fuel Bela’s own resolve and she did not hesitate to showcase her pearly white teeth in a wicked grin.

So thirsty…”

That was not a lie or melodramatics - all the draining activity left the vampiric progeny quite hungry for some fresh man-blood. His would suffice - not that Bela believed in forcefully extracting vital fluid from unwilling donors at this point in her long journey in regaining her humanity, but he was going to die anyway… no reason to waste the precious sanguine ichor.

Another step forward was succeeded by several more - which were mirrored by the man as he took them backwards. It was more than a little amusing to Bela to see the previously domineering male ending up behind Mia - almost as if using her as an impromptu obstruction in the vampire’s impending advance. Mia herself, however, appeared as composed as ever and merely observed the blonde with her arms folded.

Suddenly, a device of some kind emitted a noisy ping from Mia’s gray coat, causing her to immediately lose her composure and screech, “They are getting away, Fettel!”

The implication that her loved ones found a way to safety was like a soothing balm upon Bela’s weary heart. Predictably, Fettel was not as content with the news, if his roar of fury, followed by a hatefully spluttered command, was any indication.

“You and the brat can handle the bug-bitch! I’ll follow our prize !”

Mia’s features hardened. “What?! That was not the deal! My daughter…”

Fettel did not miss a beat as he made his way into the apartment, to both Bela’s and Mia’s chagrin, “Will be just fine as she waits for her mommy to finish off this whore and rejoin me at our extraction point!”

Without a further word, Fettel vanished into the apartment, but Bela was not about to just let him go to imperil her family. Not wasting any time herself, the blonde daughter proceeded to swiftly assume her full swarm form - intent on rushing right past Mia and the kid and engulfing this vile man in a sea of ravenous chitin. 

A death by her flesh-eating swarm was an excruciatingly painful demise that Bela normally would not employ to end any living being. But this scumbag? He deserved to suffer. Not only for hounding her family across the continents - though that alone deserved an inglorious end in Bela’s eyes - but also for unleashing this viral calamity upon this human megalopolis in the pursuit of his wicked goals. How many innocents had perished today, all for his selfish ambitions? Bela was not conceited enough to fancy herself a righteous avenger, not after her own vile deeds, but she would lie if she claimed that she would take no satisfaction from enacting retribution on behalf of all the people who were so grievously wronged today.

Mia had other plans, however.

Once Bela’s swarm was about half-way to her, the traitorous wife sprung her trap.

“Haru, NOW!”

As prepared Bela was and as cautiously she approached her foes, she could never have even imagined what came next. How wrong she was to assume that the paranormal festival of today was over after Fettel’s mind tricks.

A wave of bone-chilling cold - seemingly exuded by the small child at Mia’s side - washed over her swarm and lowered the ambient temperature in the corridor far beyond what the fragile insects could tolerate.

In response, more out of instinctual desire to survive than out of rational thought, every single member of her swarm dashed to clump together, desperate to preserve the vital heat by combining their biomass. Not missing a beat and knowing well that her human form was far more resilient to such low temperatures than her flies, Bela had no choice but to immediately shapeshift back. As a single organism, her biomass could handle this kind of temperature without suffering a lethal outcome, at least for a while; though it was hardly comfortable by any stretch of the word.

“Mold is truly a wonder. So many possibilities…” Mia had obvious pride in her tone, as she motioned at the child at her side - who now adopted a particularly tense posture, with his fists clenched and black veins clearly visible through his pale skin. Somehow, the mold within his tiny body was able to affect the ambient temperature, and if this situation was anything else, Bela could even imagine herself sharing in Mia’s wonder - for all the misery it brought into the world, Mold was a fascinating substance. Of course, things being as they were, all the elder Dimitrescu daughter desired was to get Mia and the brat out of her way and her fangs buried deep in Fettel’s throat.

Fine. If that bitch wants to be brushed aside first, so be it.

With clattering teeth but burning resolve, Bela marched right forward, fully intent on wringing Mia’s neck with her own two hands.

In turn, upon seeing that Bela was hardly crippled by the biting cold as she likely expected her to be, Mia’s smug expression was replaced by a tense one, and the Winters matriarch took a step backward, while fishing in her coat pocket for something - Bela would have none of it, however, and covering the distance between them in a blink of an eye, shoulder-slammed right into the smaller woman. Noting that she knocked the breath out of Mia’s lungs, Bela swiftly rearranged them both in a way that saw Mia pinned to the corridor’s wall, while taking hold of Mia’s right wrist with her left hand, and her right forearm pressing hard against Mia’s throat.

Amber eyes glared into brown, and the intensity in latter ones caused Bela to pause in her planned execution. Such defiance in the face of overwhelming power was not a common sight, after all.

“So…” It was quite hard for Mia to talk with Bela’s forearm all but crushing her windpipe, but the smaller woman managed to gurgle out some syllables, nevertheless, “stole… Ethan… steal… Rose?”

Astounded, Bela could not help but ease on her grip, as she protested the sentiment most vehemently, “ I stole Ethan? You’ve abandoned him! You’ve abandoned Rose!”

Bela realized her mistake too late, and Mia did not hesitate to use the opportunity to wriggle out of the vampire’s grip, with an instantaneous and shockingly agile follow-up that saw Bela's forehead slammed into the wall. Not wasting a single precious moment, Mia’s hand - that was previously fishing in her coat’s pocket - finally produced an item it was searching for - a syringe - only to jab it straight into the blonde’s neck.

“I had no choice!”

Recovering from the dazing impact against the concrete barrier, Bela was unable to prevent the mysterious injection from gaining access to her veins, though a half-hearted backhand from her was enough to send Mia knocked down on her rear, some feet away from Bela. Hissing in pain as whatever vile mixture now coursed through her bloodstream, the vampire was swift in pulling the needle out of her neck and smashing it against the wall; the remaining greenish substance in it harmlessly spilling onto the moth-eaten carpet.

“Do you think I wanted to leave Ethan and Rose behind?!” Standing back up to her feet, Mia leveled a scalding glare against the vampire - who struggled to remain upright as a sudden and overpowering vertigo made it hard to retain balance. “I had no choice!” she repeated, even as Bela had no choice herself but to lean against the wall.

“They watched our every single move! Had I refused them, we would all be killed right there in London!” Mia continued her surprisingly passionate tirade, while reaching into her pants back-pocket - or, at least, Bela thought she did, since it was quite hard to tell for sure, with her vision doubling. One Mia was already too much… two of them? Ugh…

“I have sacrificed everything for my family! Just so you could traipse all over the world with them?!”

Huffing in feverish effort as the unknown substance ravaged her system, Bela managed to somewhat stabilize herself through the sheer force of will. “What… have you done to me..?”

An evil smirk graced Mia’s lips, as she happily responded, “You wanted to be human, didn’t you?” Her hand revealed itself - a familiar outline of a handgun clutched in it. “You should be grateful then - Nikolai’s Mold Suppressant will help you at least die a human. Or as close to human as you’ve ever been.”

Bela never felt as weak as she did now. Every single muscle cried out in exhaustion; every nerve was seemingly on fire. She never expected to die at Ethan’s wife’s hands, but it seems like that cunning woman managed to once again get one over on her and Ethan was not around to bail her out this time.

Still… even with her body crippled both by the aforementioned mold suppressant and the kid’s persisting chilling aura, Bela’s urge to survive was strong. Stronger yet, was her desire to see her family safe and secure. Even if it meant tearing her way through Ethan’s wife.

Letting out a guttural roar, Bela leapt at Mia just as the latter brought her gun up.

Bang

Her last-second maneuver of desperation was enough to disrupt Mia’s aim, and the bullet meant for her head struck her shoulder instead. Bela’s vulnerable human flesh, bereft of its shape shifting capabilities, was no match against the supersonic projectile and the blonde cried out in pain as the round tore its way through and out of her body. Thankfully, while painful, the glancing hit was not immediately crippling, and - moreover, shockingly - the opposite . Perhaps the wound stimulated the production of adrenaline in Bela’s body, which allowed her not only to ignore pain from the injury itself, but to shrug off the debilitating effects of the serum - at least partially.

While far from being at her prime, Bela felt herself strong enough to fight back, and with a ferocity that surprised both of the combatants, slugged Mia right across her jaw. Enfeebled as Bela were, a strike that should’ve dislocated, or even outright shattered Mia’s jaw, instead merely caused the smaller woman to jerk backwards, nevertheless allowing Bela the opportunity to grab for her gun.

Mia would have none of that, however, and after swiftly recovering from Bela’s blow - too swiftly for Bela’s liking - returned the favor by smashing her left fist into Bela’s abdomen, causing the blonde to double over in pain, but not let go of the gun.

“Let go, you bitch!” A hissed out demand was followed by a brutal elbow bash against Bela’s back, forcing her to fall on her knees, while still gripping the pistol with both hands. Neither of them was about to relent.

“Are you that determined to take everything that is mine?!” Mia’s screech was accompanied by a savage knee slam, right into Bela’s face. 

The impact produced a gruesome snapping sound, with piercing pain to go along with - implying that her nose was broken, but Bela still held onto that singular lifeline - that simple human sidearm that could decide the victor of their little duel. 

“Ethan is mine! Rose is mine!”

The loaded statements which Bela wanted to defy with every fiber of her being, combined with the taste of her own blood, however, was enough to awaken the predator that would no longer hold back.

Even with her unnatural powers suppressed and without any implements of death at her disposal, Bela was hardly unarmed - indeed, her mouth was an entire arsenal of deadly weaponry. An arsenal she promptly put to use by biting deep into Mia’s hand - right under the thumb.

As her nemesis’ sharp teeth ravaged the flesh of her hand, Mia could not suppress a scream of pain; with her grip on the pistol slackening, Bela was quick to take possession of it, though the sudden lack of resistance caused her to tumble to the floor with her prize.

Displaying her lethal intent, the blonde vampire did not hesitate in turning the weapon on its rightful owner, but Mia was hardly out of the fight. Ethan was not the only one who got through months of grueling self-defense training with Redfield. A swift but accurate kick against Bela’s wrist followed and the pistol flew out of her feeble grasp - out of reach, for both of them.

Mia’s opponent was just as deadly, if not more so - even in her weakened state, however. Bela might not have approached her training regimen with the same vigor as Cassandra, but that hardly meant that the elder sister was unprepared for the brutality of melee combat. Not missing a beat and having had enough of Mia, Bela leapt right from her spot at the floor, tackling Mia down and ending up on top of her.

“You’ve lost the right to claim Ethan as your own the moment you've betrayed him, you bitch!”

Full of indignity, Bela did not hesitate in smashing her fist against Mia’s face. The force of the blow caused her own limb to cry out in protest, but both the adrenaline and the fury was enough to mask it, allowing the daughter to pull her arm for the next strike.

“You could’ve trusted him! You could’ve worked together!” Another blow landed, accompanied by a snapping noise, and Bela could see the disorientation taking hold in Mia’s eyes. “Instead, you’ve left in the night with nary a word! And when you had the opportunity to beg him for forgiveness, you set loose your attack dogs on him!” And another pulverizing punch; with a tooth flying out - Mia was barely holding onto consciousness at this point, but Bela was not yet done - with neither vehement words nor punishing actions.

“But this is not even about Ethan for me…” Bela pulled her bloodied arm back, readying for a particularly vicious punch. Her face was locked into a visage of fearsome determination as she hissed out, “What you did to my mother… is unforgivable .”

Even with Mia’s face as messed up as it was, the disbelieving sneer made itself plain on it. “As if… you… would’ve done… any different in my shoes… how many lives…have you ruined… for your family?”

The truthfulness of that statement caused Bela to pause. And once again, a pause was all Mia needed to regain her bearing and kick Bela off of her, only to start crawling towards the discarded firearm.

“Everything I’ve done was for my family! For my Rose! You’re the last obstacle that stands between me and a fresh start I was promised!” Almost touching the gun, Mia was disheartened to feel the vampiric bitch who had stolen her husband grab her by the legs.

With the extra weight, she could crawl forward no longer and the pistol remained tantalizingly just out of reach, no matter how hard she tried to reach for it.

“Then you should understand that I do this for my family.” Bela’s resolute voice was followed by an excruciating pain, as the bug-whore chomped deep into her calf, tearing through thin clothing fabric and fragile skin with ease.

More than just biting, Bela eagerly dug into the tender flesh, tearing chunks of it out, only to swallow them whole, not even bothering to chew. The agonized cries Mia let loose as the vampire engorged herself upon her leg did not add to her appetite, but neither did they cause her to stop. The short conversation - if it even could be called that - allowed Bela to realize that she was just like Mia, in the end. Just like Alcina has been; perhaps just like Miranda herself. For their respective families, they were ready to set the world itself on fire. No atrocity has been callous enough to stop them, not when their loved ones were threatened. Therefore, she did not relish the fact that she had to win.

 

“Stop hurting mommy!”

With how close and personal this encounter has been so far, Bela had all but forgotten about the little boy - who was now pointing the gun right at her head, as she brought her blood-soaked visage up to gaze at the newest threat.

“Do it, Haru! Shoot her!”

Likewise, Mia swiftly attempted to grab onto this newest lifeline the fate has bestowed upon her, eager to goad an innocent child into murdering for her sake.

To Bela’s surprise, however, the child hesitated. His whole form trembled, as unsteady hands gripped the implement of death; the black, moldy veins still criss crossed his skin - producing that aura of chill.

“Just stop… please… both of you…”

The innocence of his plea was truly shocking. Somehow, Bela felt ashamed. Could they have truly found no common ground with words alone? Mia was not a cold-blooded murderer who reveled in wanton slaughter - Bela knew that much. 

“Just give me the gun, Haru! So we can save your two sisters and start anew! Just the four of us!”

Bela felt bile coming up to her throat. To think that Mia had brainwashed this poor child into believing that he was part of her family - alongside the other E-002 prototype and Rose herself. Was that truly how she felt, or was it merely just another act? Simply one more body to pile upon the altar of blood ties. Just how much horror can one justify in the name of family, Bela couldn’t help but wonder, as she gazed upon the child who now held her fate in his tiny hands.

Blind to Bela’s grim musings, but overwhelmed by his own, Haru was a sad sight. Snot and tears dripped freely down his tiny face, but the child did as told and slowly, with obvious remorse, passed the gun into Mia’s waiting hands.

Frozen in the moment of morbid revelation and with her reservoir of strength exhausted, Bela did nothing as Mia rotated her torso around, with the cold steel of the gun barrel pointing her way in the next second. All things considered, if Bela were to die, she couldn’t think of a better executioner than Mia Winters. In a way, they both fought for the same thing, with the same bitter intensity and same callous disregard for anything in their way. It was fated that the stronger of their wills prevailed… 

Therefore, the elder daughter merely stared past the gunbarrel, into Mia’s brown eyes. She did not see a callous monster there, only a mother, ready to enact unspeakable violence for her beloved child. An intimately familiar sight, considering all the times she gazed into Alcina’s amber orbs over the decades.

“Your child is his prize, Ms. Winters.”

Nobody expected to hear that voice again. The gruff, mask-muffled voice of a Replica Clone - identical among all of them. Only two Replica were present in the building - as far as Bela knew. First one she had slain down in the parking lot, and no way that headless corpse would be doing any talking in this plane of existence. The second one, however…

With an expression of disbelief, Bela struggled to turn her weary head towards the source of the masculine voice. Just like she thought, it was the Replica Elite she previously thought dispatched. The sitting soldier was leaning against the wall, though even that seemed a struggle for his ruined frame. While more alive than Bela had expected him to be, his condition was far from enviable - with his battle-armor penetrated in multiple places and the carpet underneath him drenched red from all the soaked blood. It was a miracle that he was still breathing… and a bigger miracle yet that he chose to speak against his master.

Turning her gaze from the Replica back towards Mia, Bela was treated to a maelstrom of emotions rampaging across the desperate mother’s bruised face. Shock, outrage, despair and soon after - resignation. Despite their close proximity, Bela had to struggle to decipher the pitiful whisper that left Mia’s blackened lips.

“But… we had a deal…”

As if a missing piece of a jigsaw puzzle finally put in its place, the Replica’s singular sentence shattered the fragile illusion Mia had built. The buzzing in the back of her brain that kept screaming at her that it made no sense for Fettel to be that interested in Alcina’s drained husk took full dominion of her thought processes. The gun fell from her hands, cluttering to the floor - forgotten.

In turn, all the rage and hatred Bela felt towards this woman retreated to the back of her mind in an instant, replaced by pity, instead. “He left you here… not to only get rid of me… but to also get him rid of you …”

“...I’ve served my purpose.” Mia finished Bela’s thought with nothing but resignation in her tone. Again, brown eyes met amber ones, but this time, it was not shared enmity that connected them. Instead, a certain bond of comradery was born in that moment, as these two women, who were so different, yet somehow also so similar now had a common cause… and a common enemy. Neither of them would be quick to forgive the other’s transgression, but perhaps they could be temporarily forgotten - for as long as it would take them to take vengeance on one man who had wronged them both…

…not that either of them were in any condition to take the fight to that formidable psionic commander after the beating they inflicted upon each other. It seemed that Fettel’s plan had worked splendidly, after all.

Finally taking her hands off Mia’s legs, Bela took a moment to inspect her own condition. Everything hurt - the blonde became aware of that unfortunate fact quick enough, as excess adrenaline started departing her system, now that she was no longer locked in a life-or-death struggle. Her shoulder felt as if on fire - the bullet must’ve scraped the bone on its way through her tender flesh. Her nose cried out in protest, rueful about the treatment it received from Mia’s knee. Even Bela’s back felt as if it was hit by a sledgehammer - Mia was certainly not a pushover when it came to physical fitness, it seemed.

Beyond the obvious physical damage to her frame, however, there was a deeper, more insidious kind of harm she had to overcome if she wanted to protect Alcina and Rose from that vile man. While the preternatural chill faded away - as Haru stopped producing his chilling mold even without Mia’s direction to do so - the so-called Mold Suppressant would be harder to get rid off, considering that it was inside of her. Bela had no idea how long it would take for its effects to wear off and if her body was even capable of metabolizing it in the first place. What she did know was that it affected her in a very obvious and a very debilitating way. Even without its initial disorienting effects, the mold suppressant lived up to its name and the mold-enhanced strength and resilience Bela lived her whole life with, and, indeed - taken for granted - was gone, as was her capacity to shapeshift. She felt weak…fragile… human… ?

With too much effort for her liking, Bela got back to her feet, struggling to ignore her sore muscles that protested the simple motion.

Of course, the elder Dimitrescu gave as good as she got in the fateful encounter with Ethan’s wife. Glancing down at Mia, Bela wanted to both grin at the amount of damage she had inflicted upon her bitter nemesis, as well as to wince at the unenviable state of the enemy of her enemy. Doing neither, she merely appraised Mia’s condition with a surgeon's detachment.

The Winters matriarch’s prone body did not appear too dissimilar to how a bear mauling victim looked, when Bela had stumbled upon him, all the way back in the Carpathian mountains, decades ago. Indeed, Mia’s left calf muscle was utterly savaged, as if a wild beast was set upon it. The vicious bite mark on her right hand - right under the thumb - was a comparatively tame one, though Bela had no doubt that it hurt immensely, nevertheless. Finally, Mia’s once beautiful face was now a bloodied mess - with one blackened eye closed completely; a single front tooth gone and her nose arranged into an unnatural angle. Even bereft of her vampiric power, Bela was a force to be reckoned with, unfortunately for Mia.

Still, even though she was no doubt in throes of agony, Mia hardly let out any sound escape her bloodied lips. With the horror of their situation fully revealed, her open eye positively radiated despair - despair powerful enough to relegate even such potent physical pain to irrelevancy, it seemed.

Staring down at her once hated nemesis with nothing but pity, Bela did something she never expected to a person who had subjected her dear mother to the vile experiments that left her a mere shadow of her former self. Instead of ending Alcina’s tormentor right then and there - in her moment of vulnerability - Bela offered her right hand. 

For a couple of seconds, there was a distinct lack of understanding in Mia’s gaze, as she glared at the offered limb. 

Seeing her conundrum, Bela decided to compound her gesture with spoken word, though not before wiping her bloodied lips with her left hand’s sleeve - quite aware that her next words would be received better without her mouth being smeared in Mia’s blood.

 

“Perhaps… a truce is in an order?” 

 

Bela’s own voice betrayed her anxiety about the very notion. It’s understandably not that easy to propose an offer of peace to a person you’ve pictured mutilating for many a night, after all. Moreover, the daughter wisely chose not to mention that the aforementioned truce will not exactly clear all the bad blood between the two of them… nor would it guarantee Mia protection from Cassandra - the middle Dimitrescu sibling was most vocal and vehement in her desire to tear that ‘traitorous wench’ to pieces. But Rose’s and Alcina’s safety was paramount right now, and if Mia felt the same - at least about the former, then they could have this temporary accord.

“For Rose. For my baby.”

The newfound tone of determination in Mia’s voice was enough to put a restrained smile on Bela’s own face.

Accepting Bela’s offered hand, Mia still struggled to get back on her feet. The horrific wound on her lower leg - courtesy of the blonde vampire’s sharp teeth - meant that she would not be running marathons any time soon, if ever. Luckily, she could still stand, if barely.

Once again, surprising Bela with her physical resilience and mental fortitude alike, Mia locked her one open eye with Bela’s own, tired ones - the previous hints of despair in it were replaced by newfound resolve. 

The universal gesture of offering a helping hand, as well as of accepting it, was not lost on either woman. It held more than just a momentary cessation of conflict - a grain of potential was also there - potential to overcome the chains of sin that had bound them both for so long. To finally break this seemingly endless cycle of violence. To start anew.

“For Rose.”

Bela’s voice had just as much determination. Rosemary Winters might not have been her own child, but she was a precious person to her just the same and she would not hesitate to risk her own life for Ethan’s daughter’s well-being.

Possibly seeing that very notion in Bela’s gaze or hearing it in her voice, Mia had allowed her broken lips to relax into a slight smile of her own. Regardless of anything else, there is nothing more precious to a mother than the life of her child. Perhaps together, they could still save her.

Notes:

So sorry for such a lengthy delay... and such a short chapter! But I did feel like the occasion in it was monumental enough that any other segments would've diluted it. Still, I am already writing the next one, so hopefully, the next update will come swifter than this one :D

I hope this chapter was an enjoyable read and its resolution was not a disappointing one. I admit I am sorta proud of how it came together, but I'd love to hear what you guys have to think about it!

Also, I do have one issue I'd like your opinion on, my dear readers. Since we are VERY close to the end now, I've been struggling with deciding whether I want the epilogue (which will be a lengthy, multi-chapter piece with several timeskips) as just several more chapters in this story, or whether I should make a new story just for it (Like An Act of Kindness or Haunted by the Past). If its the former, it will be tidy up this whole series quite nicely, but if it will be the latter, I might take my time with it, make it a bit longer and more open-ended.

Anyway, thanks for bearing with my shitty update schedule and thanks for reading! If you have any questions, ideas or thoughts, feel free to share!

Chapter 46: To Banish a Demon

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Even his respirator mask could not fully protect Ethan from the onslaught of putrid smells. While it does its job in filtering the air he breathed splendidly, it is not quite sufficient to ward off the insidiousness in Ethan’s own mind. He had gone through too much for that - vivid recollections of the past can sometimes be almost as tangible as the real thing. Ethan did not need to be able to physically smell the surrounding horror for his brutalized mind to conjure the scents from sight alone. A burning tire here, a decaying cadaver there - these things Ethan was intimately familiar with, to his great chagrin.

Suddenly, the urge to vomit was nearly overpowering and only through a great force of will was Ethan able to resist the unwelcome reflex to void the contents of his stomach through his masked mouth. The nerves were getting better of him, he realized as they trekked through the empty street. The stresses of the past, combined with the prospect of imminent strife, as well as the uncertainty of the future amplified his worries and fears to a nearly unbearable degree.

Perhaps thankfully, the relative tranquility of the deserted streets did not last once the remnants of Bravo Team reached the intersection of York Avenue and East 63rd Street.

It was quite a discouraging sight that greeted them - a large number of black pickup trucks were parked all around the red-bricked apartment building that served as HQ for the Anti-Connection Task Force. It was not hard to make an educated guess that the hazmat-equipped and well-armed goons that were all over the place used the trucks as their method of transportation.

Their hostile intent towards the occupants of the red-bricked apartment building was also hardly under question, considering the firepower they brought to bear against them.

How the terrorists managed to learn about this place - considering all the secrecy surrounding it, with every member of the task-force hand-picked for their integrity, was beyond Ethan. Regardless, their assault appeared hastily-put together, with little to indicate that they had pre-prepared the location for their operation - with only light infantry and a couple of man-portable heavy weapons to support their efforts.

It was hard for Ethan to get a precise headcount without breaking concealment, but he imagined that there were dozens of armed terrorists. To think that Rose was in such peril - and he’d allowed this situation to happen with his foolish notion of ‘setting things right’ ...  Still, despite the discouraging sight, Ethan was almost glad to finally be able to gaze at those that stood between him and his daughter. The crippling anxiety had no choice but to retreat in the face of cold determination. He would rescue Rose or die trying - there was no third option.

While he naturally wanted to rush headlong into the throng of foes to ensure his daughter’s safety, Ethan had to recognize the simple fact that their merry little band was hardly a match for an organized and well-armed enemy force such as the one they faced right now. What he couldn’t get his head around was exactly how the trio of them could truly make a difference against this black-clad army. Perhaps if Cassandra was at full strength and himself and Dion packed some serious firepower…

“Look.” Dion’s whisper brought Ethan out of his morbid musings. Glancing the redhead’s way, the father and Cassandra both saw him pointing towards a three-storey tall building on the university’s campus, on the other side of a street from their goal. “They’ve got a sniper’s nest in there.” He was not wrong - an occasional muffled crack, accompanied by a suppressed flash was coming from the top floor’s window.

“Fuck…”

Letting out a curse, Ethan could only bemoan their misfortune. Snipers always meant business, and with the lines of sight provided by their advantageous location they covered the entire area - from that direction nobody could either enter or leave the apartment building while avoiding their overwatch fire.

“Perhaps… we could turn the tides to our advantage… were we to take over that nest.” Surprisingly, it was Cassandra who gave voice to that idea. Quickly trading glances, Ethan and Dion had to acknowledge the wisdom of her suggestion. With the current number of adversaries surrounding the apartment complex, any kind of direct approach was suicide - it was just that simple. If they wanted to provide real aid to the embattled occupants of the building - Rose, Daniela and Alcina included - they had to be smart about it and not blindy rush towards their demise.

The attacking force, while numerous, was clearly counting on the element of surprise amidst this bioterror outbreak to cover their activities - therefore their flanks were wide open, and even the aforementioned sniper nest appeared to lack any visible sentries or rearguard elements to protect it. If the three of them could actually take over it, they stood a decent chance of routing the terrorist offensive. That, unfortunately, meant that their loved ones inside the apartment building would be left to fend for themselves for quite a while, but it also was the only viable plan. After stewing on it for a couple of seconds and seeing no real alternatives, Ethan clenched his fist.

“Damn it… just hold on, Rosie… daddy’s almost there…”

Nobody but Ethan himself could hear his desperate whisper. He could only pray that this diversion would work out as the trio set out on their task.

With the terrorists being focused on the red-bricked building and its dwindling defenders, it was a child’s play to sneak around their flanks, so the group managed to reach the the university campus undetected. The concealing bluish mist, overarching gloom and the mayhem of the indiscriminate gunfire probably helped in that, as did the fact that all three of them were quite experienced in matters of stealth.

Ethan had no doubt that the large campus building appeared rather friendly and inviting on an average sunny day - today, however, it was quite menacing with its towering structures and looming shadows, as is appropriate for the current atmosphere of violence and mindless brutality. 

Just like they expected, no Bloodfang sentry was there to imperil their advance - further confirming that the terrorists’ assault was not premeditated. It was likely that their sharpshooter team inside had either minimal protection, or even none at all. That would make the trio’s job infinitely easier, though by now Ethan knew better than to count on uncaring fate to spare him from grueling challenges and mortal combat.

Entering the darkened building and finding themselves in almost pitch-black darkness, Ethan had to suppress another curse after flickering a nearby switch produced no tangible result.

Of course the electricity is out.”

His exasperated half-whisper was immediately hushed by their female companion, who promptly warned her human compatriots of possible danger, “We are not alone here…”

Ethan was intimately aware of a bead of sweat that trickled down his brow as he clutched his Heckler & Koch VP9 pistol tight. After everything he has gone through, he was not a fan of enclosed and lightless spaces. Cassandra’s warning did little to assist the wary man with his increased perspiration.

Still, being drenched in sweat but forewarned and alive beat carefree and dead any day of the week in Ethan’s book. Giving the brunette a grateful nod, Ethan was silently happy when Dion’s flashlight provided some illumination in the next moment.

While not exactly bathing the area in light, the simple flashlight was enough to reveal the interior as a simple reception area, with typical, university-style accolades serving as decorations.

“Seems clear…” mumbled Ethan as he saw no immediate threats, only for Cassandra to point a single finger towards the darkened hallway to their right. Dion swiftly took that as his cue to redirect his flashlight’s beam, revealing the source of Cassandra’s concern.

A simple “huh.” was the only thing the brunette let out, as a pity-inducing husk of a zombie slowly crawled its way towards the trio. It made no sound in response, merely inching towards the humans and the bug-vampire with a notable lack of speed. With the flashlight illuminating its sorry frame, Ethan could clearly tell that this poor undead used to be either a university staff member or even a student, judging by its bloodied lab coat. An unfortunate soul, who was not able to escape the C-Virus in time and therefore succumbed to its insidious influence. 

What was strange about this particular zombie, was the sluggardly pace of its crawling. Before any of them could contemplate more upon the strangely slow zombie, Cassandra took several swift steps towards the crawling husk and with unerring precision jabbed it with her kitchen knife, right into the forehead.

The zombie’s body slackened and the unwitting undead let out one feeble gasp before expiring. 

Unhesitating, Cassandra attempted to retract her blade, only for the cheap steel of the knife to snap, leaving her with just the grip - which she promptly discarded. “Ugh…” Seemingly unbothered by the loss of her only weapon, the middle Dimitrescu daughter proceeded to motion forward, “...hurry up, Mother is counting on us.”

In silent accord, the two men followed the bloodied brunette along, though neither passed a chance to glance at the deceased husk on their way. With light illuminating its ruined frame, the reason for its sluggish crawling became painfully clear. Two bloodied cuts at the back of the zombie’s knees implied that someone had hamstrung it. Moreover, the unhealthy, grayish tint of its blood suggested that the vicious injuries were inflicted post-infection.

For a moment, Ethan’s mind drew a blank as to why would anyone bother crippling a zombie without actually killing it.

“Bastards…”

Dion’s whisper was positively laced with venom, allowing Ethan to make an educated guess that there was no real purpose behind the zombie’s miserable state. It was a meaningless act of basic human cruelty - a callous mockery inflicted by the Bloodfang upon their ‘enemies’ - instead of allowing the unfortunate civilian his final rest, they wanted to prolong his suffering, while conferring a state of debility upon his undead husk. Maybe it was meant as a statement to the world they hated or even as a comparison between the two - crippled and infirm… but not quite dead.

Out of the three of them, only Cassandra appeared to be unaffected by the harrowing sight, but then again - the sight of her slightly clenched fist implied otherwise. Perhaps the crippled zombie reminded her of all the atrocities she herself committed upon humankind. Ethan couldn’t help but wonder if she thought about her past with regret, or if she were still indifferent to it.

Not satisfying his curiosity, the woman continued her march in silence, making Ethan drop that line of thought and instead focus his attention on the fact that the building appeared devoid of any life. As they traversed through a deserted hallway, then ascended a stairway, Ethan found himself genuinely happy from the notion that the majority of students and faculty members were likely safe and sound in their homes or nearby shelters. To be zombified was a fate Ethan wouldn’t wish upon his worst enemy, much less innocent civilians.

After around a minute of walking, the group got close to their destination - the third floor. A large number of inter-connected rooms that dominated the floor appeared to be a dedicated bioresearch area, with plenty of relevant paraphernalia all over the place.

Still not meeting any resistance, the trio made their way through the lightless research area with wary steps, though their goal was finally in sight - an occasional sharp crack of a muffled rifle betrayed the sniper nest’s location - one of the adjacent rooms, helpfully tagged as a ‘smoking lounge’. 

Exchanging glances with his comrades, Ethan proceeded to try the handle - hoping to fill the snipers with lead and put a swift end to this particular skirmish. To his chagrin, the door held strong, as it was clearly locked from the other side. Considering the predicament, Ethan thought about bashing his way into the smoking lounge - the flimsy door didn’t look like it would handle a couple of hearty shoulder slams. That would undoubtedly ruin their element of surprise, however, allowing the sharpshooters a chance to respond to their lethal intent. With only six rounds in his magazine, that might prove to be a bigger challenge than they would like to tackle at this moment…

Before he could do anything, however, Cassandra’s fingers on his shoulder caused the man to pause and treat the vampire to a questioning glance.

Seeing that she had his attention and not missing a beat, Cassandra proceeded to make a ‘pause’ motion with her palm, before moving towards the nearby open recreation room - which bordered the smoking lounge. Gazing towards the open window there, it did not take Ethan long to figure out what she had planned.

In a reversal of roles from moments before, it was Ethan’s hand on Cassandra’s shoulder this time, followed by a muffled whisper.

“Cass… are you sure?”

The worry was warranted, as Ethan still recalled Bela’s lecture on Dimitrescu’s daughter biology - any damage either of their forms suffered would transfer to the other, and vice versa. With how wounded Cassandra currently was, it couldn’t be easy… or safe for her to perform her shapeshifting.

A semi-certain nod was her only response. Gently, but firmly, Cassandra detached Ethan’s hand from her shoulder, before proceeding with her reckless plan. The brunette knew full well the limitations of her own body - for all of its unnatural boons, she was not invincible or tireless - not even close. Nevertheless, healthy parts of her flesh could still freely shapeshift into her desired form - and her limbs were mostly unharmed by the brutal events of this hectic day.

With that in mind, Cassandra did not hesitate in leaping right from the open window - unknowingly making Ethan’s heart leap up to his throat from the frightful scene.

Of course, whenever Ethan started to worry about other people, fate was swift to remind him that his own hide demanded his full attention, if he wanted to keep it, that is.

Today was no exception and no sooner had Cassandra’s frame faded from view, a bone-chilling howl pierced the veil of darkness. The howl appeared distinctly canine, though not without a hint of some kind of a monstrous distortion. In response to the potential threat, the duo left the recreation room to establish a perimeter in the more defensible lab room.

Another howl followed the first - this one much closer. “Uh-oh.” somewhat unhelpfully noted Dion, but before Ethan could ask him to elaborate about the nature of the threat, a pair of shadowy silhouettes darted into the darkened room.

Showcasing his well-honed reflexes and masterful aim, Ethan was nearly instantaneous in taking aim and scoring a center mass hit against the left shadow. The creature let out a pained yelp, but did not go down - instead, both of them, clearly realizing the threat the firearm posed, attempted to use the well-stocked laboratory space as cover while closing the distance to the humans.

Undaunted by the creatures’ agility and guile, Ethan squeezed the trigger five more times, doing his best to inflict at least some damage upon these unidentified foes before they would engage in melee. To his chagrin, every shot went wide, as the creatures were simply too swift - dashing from stand to stand with nearly preternatural haste; the lack of illumination hardly assisted his aim.

The gun clicked empty and before he knew it, the shadows were upon them - the wounded one went for Dion, while the unharmed one lunged right for Ethan. 

With his surroundings obstructed by bulky laboratory equipment, Ethan’s attempts to dodge the lunge were unsuccessful and the following impact against his chest felt akin to a sledgehammer. Struck by a vicious body propelled by a considerable velocity, Ethan was unable to stand his ground and was knocked off his feet - savagely slamming into the smoking lounge’s door that happened to be right behind him.

Just like he had anticipated before, the flimsy door could not hope to resist the impact of two tangled bodies like that and, with an ear-grating noise of splintering wood and warped plastic, gave way.

Ethan wasn’t sure if a distressed grunt came from his own wide open mouth, or from a person on the other side of the smashed door. All he knew in that moment was that his back hurt like hell, as well that a snarling maw was inches from his face. A paw swiped at his face, dislodging his respirator and nearly stunning him.

With an extra illumination, however minor, provided by the smoking lounge’s window, Ethan could tell that the creature that was looming over him was in fact a doberman - a particularly vicious and unhealthy-looking doberman, that is. Missing patches of fur on its coat, in addition to glazed-over eyes that, nevertheless, exuded both ferociousness and madness in equal measures spoke volumes about the dog’s sinister pedigree. Underlining the threat, its drooling mouth was filled with rotting, yet still sharp teeth. God only knew what kind of virulent pathogens this vile mutt carried in its spittle.

The monstrous dog let out a menacing growl and Ethan was struck by a nearly overwhelming scent of decay, but before his natural gag reflex could take over, the vicious hound made its next move, by brutally going right for his throat.

Ethan did the only thing he could to prevent the monster from chewing on his jugular - getting his already much-abused left arm in the way of its snapping jaws.

The pain inflicted by the dog’s half-rotten, jagged teeth upon his flesh was truly exquisite and Ethan briefly wondered if he had been a truly awful person in his previous life to deserve all this suffering the fate seemed deadset on heaping upon him. In turn, uncaring about his mental conundrum and literally frothing with rage and madness, the mutated doberman appeared determined to brutalize his arm as much as was possible.

Without any sharp implements at hand, the best Ethan could come up with to free himself from his predicament was to whip the dog’s head with the grip of his pistol. Unfortunately, the monster turned out to be more resilient than its sickly appearance implied and Ethan’s strike had little effect in convincing it to let go of his arm.

But something else clearly had enough sway to force the dog back, however. 

After savaging Ethan’s poor arm for several seconds, the monstrous doberman suddenly let go and the white froth of its saliva took an even more sinister appearance - that of inkly blank mold. 

Gagging and choking, the B.O.W. dog did its best to spit out Ethan’s black blood and flesh, but their moldy components had already crystallized and now the serrated edges of the resulting mass clearly made the creature regret ever taking a bite out of Ethan, as its mouth, as well as innards were ruptured by thousands of tiny razor-sharp shards.

Being a dog lover himself, Ethan would’ve surely felt a speck of pity even for this monstrous creature, were its jaws not violating his own flesh, moments ago; or if it did not, having somewhat recovered from its condition, once again barred its rotting fangs at him, clearly eager to finish him off. Seemingly forgetting its painful lesson, the mutt lunged forth with its front paws soon tearing into Ethan’s shirt.

Mentally preparing for the pain of its jagged teeth ravaging his flesh once again, Ethan’s hands found themselves protecting his vitals, all but expecting the next savage bite to come any second now.

Before the mutated mutt could do just that, however, a high-powered round blasted its way through its cranium, putting the dog out of its misery in an instant, while splattering Ethan’s face with its brain matter.

“Fuck!”

At least now he could add a mutated canine to an already extensive list of creatures he had survived an encounter with…

 

***

 

Rosemary Winters was scared. 

Not even three years of age, it was little wonder that fear was a constant companion to the tiny girl, caught up in the seemingly unending horror of her terrifying reality. Too young to truly know the ways of the world or the true reason for the constant struggles the Winters family experienced, but not too young to fail to recognize danger, Rose’s only wish was for it all to end. 

She wanted her mama and her daddy. She desperately wanted to find solace and comfort in the embrace of her loving parents.

“This way, my lady!”

Instead, all the innocent child had was the protective embrace of Alcina Dimitrescu, who rushed to follow Tom along through the myriad of dilapidated hallways and unused pathways, while clutching poor Rose’s hand in her own and holding Sarah close to her chest with her other one.

The noise of violent combat, accompanied by an occasional shockwave from some distant explosive, forced Rose to keep her eyes closed and her own hold on Alcina’s hand tight. It was quite a struggle for her tiny legs to keep up the pace, but the girl did her best to not slow the adults down. The sense of impending danger was strong enough to override any kind of discomfort she experienced.

But not enough to keep it to herself, as much as she wanted to. A traitorous, fear-filled, sob left the tiny girl’s throat. Amazingly, even through the clamor of conflict, the Dimitrescu matriarch was able to hear the muffled sound of distress and a reassurance was swift to depart her parched lips.

“Everything is going to be alright, little one.”

Even despite her tender age, Rose was always keen to words left unsaid and the feelings of people around her. The well-developed intuition granted the child the unenviable boon of seeing through the reassurance - into the terror and uncertainty that lurked beneath Alcina’s calm veneer. She was a mother, as well, and the unknown whereabouts of her three daughters caused the all-consuming gnawing on her heart.

A sudden crashing noise forced the woman to let loose a gasp of distress, followed by Rose’s desperate whimper as the pair stopped dead in their tracks. Not opening her eyes, the child was blind - but not deaf to something akin to a brutal skirmish that took place in the next moments. Masculine, mask-muffled curses; erratic gunfire and thumps of heavy objects collapsing upon the solid floor.

Not wishing to witness the calamity, Rose buried her face in Alcina’s leg in her attempt to find an oasis of safety in this world of danger. Clutching the leg tightly, Rose wanted to be anywhere but here - away from violence and mayhem.

 

Miraculously, her wish came true - at least somewhat - and the din of combat was somehow replaced by a comforting noise of a steadily - if erratically - beating heart. As the child still refused to open her eyes, nothing but darkness was there for her…yet somehow , she was able to see… or perhaps sense the cardiovascular system of a being she was pressed against.

The scientific implication of this inexplicable phenomenon went right over Rose’s head as she stared, with closed eyes, upon the life-giving web of arteries and veins that courses all throughout Alcina’s body. Since she obviously lacked the necessary anatomical knowledge to properly appreciate the complex biological system that was suddenly open to her perusal, all Rose could do was marvel at it… while at the same time noting that it… somehow felt incomplete… wrong… drained .

Guided by enigmatic instinct rather than concrete knowledge, Rose felt her unseeing gaze moving upwards, until she saw what she knew to be the reason for Alcina’s organism weakened state.

At the top of her skull, in between her brain and the cranium wall, was a different kind of creature - interconnected with Alcina to the point where it was completely dependent on her.

The mysterious being was a small blob, with many tendrils reaching out from its amorphous shape - going far out into Alcina’s being, until they were completely lost in her cardiovascular system. Even for a professional medical examiner it would be a tall order to tell exactly where the creature ended and the woman begun… but a three year old girl somehow could easily tell that there was no meaningful distinction between the two beings - the many decades they spent together saw them fused to the point where they could no longer be separated.

Moreover, Rose felt as if this enigmatic blob of sickly flesh called out to her! It screamed, in a silent voice, for something. And as the girl focused on that wordless plea, she found herself able to decipher it - it cried out for help! Drained dry by human cruelty, the creature was on the brink of death… and even its interlinked host had nothing more to give to sustain its unnatural existence.

But Rose?.. Rose could help it… she just knew it. 

Just like she had done earlier, back in the French safehouse or in the airplane on the way to New York, Rose focused her willpower. There was no Eveline to guide her actions this time, but the girl had learned enough from her older sister to attempt the mysterious procedure on her own.

The intangible energies flowed from the center of her own being, right through their interconnected limbs, then through Alcina's body and finally into the enigmatic entity in her head. It demanded much from Rose, but the girl did not hesitate to channel all it required, even though dizziness was seemingly the only reward for her efforts.

While neither Rose nor Alcina could tell what exactly was going on, the girl’s efforts were not in vain and the result of her work was nearly instantaneous. Withered and dejected, the Cadou parasite, which was akin to a lifelong companion to the Dimitrescu matriarch, experienced the process of spontaneous rejuvenation. Almost as if paying for the sins of her own mother - who had pushed the creature to the brink with her cruel extraction procedures - Rose funneled her own life force into it. The cycle of violence the Winters and the Dimitrescu had perpetuated against each other was irrelevant to the child, even as she shattered it to pieces with her selfless act.

It was not in vain.

The newfound energy flowed freely throughout its relatively tiny frame, allowing the unnatural symbiote to find the power needed to resume its original purpose - the production of enriched mold, which then rushed to spread all throughout Alcina’s cardiovascular system.

 

Unfortunately for Rose, her own tiny body was ill-suited for continuous sharing of energy and before long, the young child collapsed upon the floor with a feeble gasp.

Exhausted but not unconscious, Rose finally opened her eyes to beheld the fruits of her labor, as well as the general situation unfolding around them. No sooner than she did so, the child let loose a piercing wail of distress.

“Uncle Tom!”

The man that was truly almost like her real uncle by now was lying in a small pool of his own blood, while nursing a gushing wound in his shoulder. With his dominant hand disabled, it was no surprise to see his firearm discarded some distance away.

Still, even this kind-hearted caretaker proved himself an experienced combatant, as he did not go down without a fight - two terrorists now shared the floor with him - a neat bullet hole in one’s forehead and a knife stuck in the throat of another implied that they would not be standing up again. A small comfort, considering that a third combatant - a fearsome goliath of truly prodigious height and bulk - was now menacingly looming over Tom.

The hulking terrorist, alongside his two deceased comrades, had likely emerged from a smashed door immediately to Tom’s right, and was now seeking to avenge their demise with his fittingly enormous and wickedly sharp machete. A single swipe from the serrated weapon, wielded by the brute’s monstrous strength, would surely be able to decapitate a human.

Rose, being an innocent child that she was, could not even picture such an atrocity occurring, yet even she knew that Tom’s life was in grave peril as the hulking brute, growling like an enraged mastiff, lifted his wicked machete for a killing blow; one more armed raider eagerly watching the spectacle from behind the mountain of muscle.

Unable to hold her gaze, the child closed her eyes once again, expecting a death rattle of uncle Tom to follow in the very next instant.

Instead, the garbled noise of metal screeching against metal followed, causing Rose to flutter her eyelids open in a morbid kind of curiosity.

What greeted her gaze was enough to let her jaw drop from raw shock and astonishment.

It was Lady Alcina, as if a knight from the stories daddy and mommy had read her, raising up to deflect the killing blow… with her nails… Her nails, that were akin to razor sharp and wickedly long blades as they protruded forth from her fingers, putting even the claws of the mighty ursine predators to shame.

Just like Rose, it appeared that the hulking terrorist was also shocked by the appearance of a frail-looking and petite woman, that suddenly sought to challenge his kill with her elongated nail-blades. With his machete in a deadlock against Alcina’s blades, the man grunted in effort as he attempted to leverage his massive bulk against the relatively tiny woman - to no avail. 

Few in the Bloodfang were able to match his raw strength; none could exceed it. Therefore, the mighty fighter could only let out a shocked curse as the strange woman - who visibly appeared fragile enough that he was sure he would be easily able to break her in half with a half-hearted backhand - was able to stand her ground against his prodigious strength. 

In turn, even though sweat started to bead on Alcina’s brow from exertion, the Dimitrescu Matriarch was not going to limit herself to blocking the terrorist’s swing. Not allowing the brute the opportunity to recover his wits, the noble woman - feeling almost as strong as she did during her 9ft tall prime - proceeded to employ her left hand, which now sported a similar set of deadly nail-blades.

Seeking to test her own newfound might, Alcina did not hesitate to combine all ten of her blades and, with a furious roar that made Rose’s hair stand on straight, pushed hard against the machete-wielding bastard.

To his credit, the hulking man put his whole being into resisting the sudden assault, determined to not give any ground to his unexpected adversary. To his misfortune, however, all it achieved was his bladed weapon becoming the path of least resistance. The vicious machete, soaked in blood of many innocent people, could not withstand the inhuman power behind Alcina’s infused frame and wickedly sharp nail-blades. Mold-hardened α-keratin proved superior to second-tier steel and with grating noise, the once-fearsome weapon was sheared into worthless bits that fell all over the floor, leaving its owner stupidly gaping at the harmless hilt his sweaty palms held on for dear life.

“Wha…-”

Alcina found the very act of the terrorist opening his crude mouth offensive in the extreme, therefore, it was only natural for her to impale the offending creature with her nail-blades in the very next second.

Five nail-blades found their mark deep in his stomach, piercing his simple kevlar vest as if it was wet paper. The horrible wound was lethal on its own, yet the Dimitrescu matriarch found herself not quite satisfied, as the pathetic meatsack continued to gurgle at her. The issue was promptly solved when her right hand - with its formidable arsenal of (un)natural weaponry, was shoved into his throat, tearing the whole head off with an ease one might pick a berry.

Withdrawing all ten of her nail-blades in a singular motion, Alcina deigned the surroundings with a satisfied “Hmph!” as the ruined carcass of a hulk that sought to imperil them plopped down, quite literally in pieces, but not before showering those nearby in delightful crimson.

The invigoration produced from the resurgence of her long-lost powers, combined with the thrill of the savage kill was enough to reignite the countess’ fiery and proud spirit. Predictably, the gruesome execution had the opposite effect on the last present Bloodfang - a lanky man with shaking hands - probably more of a fresh recruit to their cause than a hardened militant.

For a second, it was clear that the man was contemplating discarding his AK-74 assault rifle and fleeing the countess’ terrible wrath - while Alcina herself contemplated him with an amused expression. Ultimately, however, whatever misanthropic and unyielding doctrine was drilled into the fighter in the Bloodfang training centers prevailed.

With a roar of both fright and rage, the terrorist let loose with his assault rifle, and in that same moment, Alcina rushed forward - right hand raised in obvious intent.

The bullets carved their way through her flesh easily enough, only to penetrate a thin hallway wall behind her - possibly becoming someone else’s problem. Unfortunately for the terrorist, however, the wounds his projectiles left behind closed on their own even before the responsible bullet’s brief flight was terminated by whatever object was solid enough to withstand their waning energy. In turn, the man had no supernatural regeneration of his own to restore his ruined cranium - and as five nail-blades vacated his butchered head, merely collapsed like a bag of rocks, dead before he hit the floor.

Producing a victorious smirk, the countess took a second to sample some of the blood that got spurted upon her face. “Subpar.” was the Romanian winemaker’s swift verdict, as she gave a tentative lick; with her smirk quickly morphing into a frown.

Still, this was not the time or place for extended theatrics, and Alcina was quick to turn her attention to her companions.

The unconscious body of Sarah was where she had left it - by Rosie’s side; while Tom merely gaped at her with awe and gratitude in his green eyes - a most welcome change, as Alcina secretly loathed the looks of either pity or contempt most would shoot her way - hardly a surprise, considering the decades she spent as the dominating and powerful countess.

“Surely such a scratch will not be enough to keep you down, Thomas?”

The vicious gash was anything but a scratch, therefore Alcina’s question was a little bit callous, but the situation called for it. While the countess herself, with her suddenly resurgent Cadou powers, was more than a match for a bunch of armed humans, the same could not be said for the three of them. The Dimitrescu matriarch was fully aware that if another squad of hostile humans showed up, she would not be able to assure Rose’s safety, much less Sarah’s or Tom’s. And in Alcina’s eyes, such a state was simply unacceptable.

During her days under Miranda, many unfortunate souls that met their end in the Dimitrescu family dungeons had made a reasonable assumption that Lady Dimitrescu was an unfeeling monstrosity with not a speck of humanity left in her. And while there was a measure of truth in such a notion, the complexity of their situation back then meant that straightforward terms such as good and evil could not hope to convey a truthful picture of the Dimitrescu family. In a way, they were as much prisoners of their circumstances as were the unlucky humans who ended up in their care - their cage was a little bigger and brighter, is all. Alcina did not use her towering stature and prodigal powers to spread terror and misery - she employed it to ensure the safety and prosperity of her family - her adoptive daughters, whom she loved with every fiber of her being. Even after fully embracing her evil ways and for all her monstrous deeds, she was a mother first and foremost, now and forevermore.

And now, that same protective spark sprung to existence as she beheld the defenseless child - precious Rose, whom she wronged so much; to the lesser extent, it also demanded of her to defend both Sarah and Tom, as well.

Trying hard - and failing - to mask his pain with a smirk, Tom got back to his feet, while mouthing his gratitude for the unexpected salvation, “Of course not, my Lady… and thank you for the timely intervention. I didn’t realize you had recovered your… ahm… powers , already.”

Neither did Alcina herself, though an unexpected surge of power that rushed throughout her body as she beheld Tom fighting on their behalf was enough for her to jump into the fray. In truth, she had half-expected the hulking brute to cleave her in half with a single swing of his machete.

Keeping quiet about that particular point, Alcina proceeded to make her way back to the two children, while retracting her nail-blades back into her flesh. Malleable beyond comparison, the mold that made up the majority of them dispersed back throughout her body, though it would take but a thought for it to rush back to form into these fearsome tools of evisceration.

“Let’s go, children.”

Before they were so rudely interrupted by these masked cretins, Alcina and the rest of their little gang were on their way to seek shelter down in the parking lot - operating on the reasonable assumption that since the viral bomb didn’t detonate, Daniela was successful in dispatching the aggressors down there. Not that Alcina would go anywhere without her precious youngest daughter, even if that wasn’t the case, however.

Astounding Alcina with how stalwart she was in the face of such a crisis, Rose merely nodded as she got to her tiny feet, though Sarah was predictably less cooperative, due to her unconscious state.

Before she could pick the B.O.W. child, Alcina was frozen dead in her tracks by a sudden gust of chilling wind.

Raising her gaze, she saw the source of disturbance marching up towards them from the hallway they themselves took to escape the ambush on their apartment.

It was a lone man, and while Alcina found the majority of human males distasteful to behold, this individual appeared particularly revolting to her senses. Lanky; with short, military-cut black hair and narrowed eyes that glinted with malice and madness both - Alcina knew this gaze well, for Miranda’s one was eerily similar to it.

The silent menace exuded by this man was enough to send shivers running down her spine; somehow, she was not particularly eager to test her regained power against this person.

Likewise, Rose was also not blind to the danger this man posed, as the keen child did her best to hide behind Alcina’s leg, while fearfully staring at the approaching man - in turn, the stranger locked his gaze with the child, seemingly ignoring Alcina and Tom utterly as he marched straight towards her.

“You don’t have to die here, you know. Give up the Winters’ child and I’ll allow you to rejoin your own wretched daughters .”

His low voice was as offensive to her sensibilities as was the rest of his appearance. But it was the words themselves that awoke the burning indignity in Alcina. The notion that this vile human thought her callous enough to just abandon this innocent child for his false promises was infuriating.

A sudden burst of self-hatred surged through her mind as she realized that perhaps she was . If he - just like Miranda did - could guarantee her daughters’ safety… she would give up Rose.

As if reading her mind, the man graced her with a sickening smirk and, finally looking her straight in the eyes, continued his monologue - while leisurely moving towards her.

“My men and I have no quarrel with you or your daughters…not anymore. Give me the child and you have my word that none of you will be harmed.”

“He is lying, my lady…” feebly tried Tom, while clutching his recovered pistol - he was ignored, however, as Alcina focused on barely audible sobs of distress coming from Rose, instead. They made the former countess briefly contemplate if she deserved this second chance at life, after all. How could she even consider this wretched proposal? Hasn't Rose suffered enough at her hands?

Reaffirming her protective pose over Rosemary, Alcina’s final answer took the shape of her claws, elongating once more into razor-sharp nail-blades.

“Poor timing to grow a conscience.”

The biting comment was not the only thing that man let out, as a door next to him suddenly opened, with armed terrorists slowly stepping out. Three of them soon stood in between the strange man and the huddling group of children and adults, while three more emerged from the passageway that was already bloodied by the remnants of the first group that sought to hinder Alcina and Tom. One of them wordlessly proceeded to disarm Tom, who knew better than to resist.

There was something strange about these new humans, however. Their motions were pondering, unnaturally so, almost zombie-like. Moreover, through their visors, Alcina could see their eyes glazed over, as if they were sleepwalking.

“I’ll have my prize, regardless.”

The cruel determination in the man’s voice was only matched by the passionate exclamation of the countess herself.

“Over my dead body.”

The man let out a mean-spirited chuckle, before theatrically waving his hand towards the lower floor, “Your precious daughter made a similar claim… yet here I am.”

That was enough to make Alcina’s blood boil in her veins. 

“What have you done to my Daniela?!”

The stranger smirked, but it quickly morphed into what Alcina could discern as an annoyed frown, before, without any warning, the man suddenly ducked down, only for a bullet to wheeze through the spot his head occupied but an instant ago.

Not wasting a second and showcasing a notable degree of acrobatic agility that belied his lanky frame, the man swirled around to face the newest aggressor and a flick of his wrist was succeeded by a feminine - all too familiar to Alcina - yelp of pain.

“Bela!”

The unmistakable form of her cherished daughter - clutching her right hand, which was bent into an unnatural angle - forced Alcina to make a step forward, ready to carve her way in defense of her child.

Their gazes connected momentarily, “I am fine, mother… so is Daniela…” 

Her eldest comforting words were like a balm of soothing oil for her weary heart, but it did not last, as the vile man saw fit to mock their precarious situation.

“A decent attempt, though your lethal intent was painfully obvious…” 

In turn, Bela only glared balefully at the stranger, and Alcina felt cold sweat beading on her brow from the very fact that her oldest was not consuming this arrogant human in a cloud of flies yet.

“...almost as obvious as dear old Mia, skulking around…”

Knowing that she was somehow revealed by this mysterious man, Mia Winters limped out from her concealed position… to take her place at Bela’s side, while holding her hands behind her back.

“Mommy!” yelled out little Rose, while making an obvious attempt to rush right towards her. Careful not to impale the child with her elongated nail-blades, Alcina stopped that attempt dead in its tracks, while delivering an admonishment.

“Stay behind me, little one!”

Thankfully, the command was heeded, allowing Alcina to focus her gaze at the newest member of their impromptu gathering.

At the sight of the woman who had tormented her so much, Alcina’s first instinct was to rip and tear into her. The fact that she now stood alongside her Bela, however, was enough to paralyze the matriarch with confusion. Both Mia and Bela appeared as if they just emerged from a life-or-death struggle - bruised and bloodied to the point it was a miracle either of them were still standing. A thousand questions rushed across Alcina’s mind, but she knew that this was not the time for them. All that mattered was the apparent cooperation of Mia and Bela as they sought to challenge this man.

Now, however, Bela and Mia’s jig was up, as whatever they had planned to stop this mysterious man failed due to his unnatural perception or perhaps even precognition.

Or was it?

Out of the corner of her eye, Alcina noted a strange growth starting to protrude from Sarah’s unconscious body. Slowly, methodically, it sprung from a spot right above her navel, and soon after a small tear was opened in the girl’s simple white blouse - allowing Alcina’s eyes to take in the growth’s appearance - that of an inky black, moldy protrusion. It continued to grow, elongating; with its edge taking a very distinct appearance of a sharpened spearhead.

“I admit, I feel a certain regret that things have to end on such a sour note between us, Mia. It was nothing personal, you understand?”

Fettel was completely blind to the mutation that was happening right behind him - busy monologuing. In turn, Mia refused to deign him with a response, though her face grew noticeably red, implying her rage at the callous reference to her child’s fate being ‘nothing personal’. Even if she could not stand that woman, Alcina could relate to that, at least.

“But honestly, you should’ve known better. Even that yokel Miranda saw the untapped potential of your daughter. It's really your fault for believing that I’d settle for that worthless Dimitrescu husk.”

Like their gloating master, the armed Bloodfang around them paid no mind to the inconspicuous change happening in Sarah’s tiny body - though, in their cases, one could argue the reason for their lack of awareness lay in the befuddled state of their minds, as they treated Alcina with blank, mindless stares.

Suddenly, without any warning, the moldy spike launched right from Sarah’s body. With velocity approaching that of a conventional firearm, the sharpened organic projectile seemed dead set on impaling the mysterious man right through his chest.

The deadly meeting between a human heart and a sharpened spike of mold was interrupted at the last possible moment, to Alcina’s shock.

For a moment in time, it seemed that the organic projectile simply stuck in solid air, inches away from the man’s back. Alcina had enough time to only assume that it was yet another display of that human’s unnatural precognitive and telepathic powers, but the truth was swift to dispel that sentiment, revealing something hardly any less sinister.

The seemingly empty spot, in which the spike was apparently stuck, was soon spewing crimson and in the next moment a human-shaped disturbance in the air was made obvious to Alcina’s eyes. Another second, and the silhouette took a far more solid appearance, with a hideous static noise to accompany its reveal.

Alcina could not help herself but let out a frightened gasp as she recognized the revealed human as the familiar to her shape of a Replica Assassin - almost identical to the one who had nearly claimed her life back in that so-called safehouse in France. 

It seemed that this assassin was shadowing the mysterious man all this time, and was just waiting for Alcina to make her move against him to give her a taste of his electrified arm-blades.

Neither of them got a chance to do that now, with the assassin letting out a gurgle of what sounded like disbelief, while panicky trying to stem the bleeding from the gushing wound in his chest.

In turn, his master - the enigmatic man - only became aware of the commotion happening behind him once the assassin’s cloaking device produced its horrid static noise as it shut down. Turning around just in time to see his final bodyguard collapse in a bloody heap, he was less than amused. His composure was clearly shaken, but not yet completely gone, as he hissed through gritted teeth, 

“...I should’ve known you’d have another card up your sleeve, dear Mia… resourceful little mouse you are… “

Clenching his fists to the point where they became bone-white, the man let out a fearsome roar of a command, “GET THEM! AND FIND THAT BRAT!”

Like the obedient puppets they were, a trio of brainwashed Bloodfang rushed to fulfill their directive; two of them swiftly put both Mia and Bela on their knees with guns pressed to the back of their hands - the weakened women unable to put up any kind of a fight, while a third soon came back with another child struggling against his grip. 

The man gave the kneeling women and children assembled before him a snort of annoyance. “If this brat does another one of his tricks… kill them all.” The implication that he would spare them otherwise appeared laughable to Alcina. She knew his type well - he wanted to put up a show, but ultimately, he would not be leaving any witnesses, not if he could help it.

Regardless of his ultimate intent, seeing the callous treatment her daughter was subject to, Alcina finally had enough of being a passive observer in this confrontation. Still, with her cherished child held at gunpoint and seemingly unable to transform into her trademark swarm shape, she had to tread carefully. Perhaps if she delivered a quiet and swift attack while the man was distracted? Bela’s attempt to do the same was unsuccessful, but what choice did she have right now? Either that last-ditch effort… or to actually submit to his demands and trade Rose away.

As if sensing her deadly intent, the mysterious man was swift in turning around and with a simple gesture of his hand, Alcina felt every muscle in her body suddenly becoming unresponsive.

“I’ve had enough of all the distractions…

There was nothing but cold, merciless determination in his voice, so reminiscent of Mother Miranda. With no further ado, the man proceeded to start walking towards her and the innocent child still hiding behind. His steps were firm, heavy, unyielding - fully conveying the sense that nothing else could impede his march towards his prize.

Struggling against the invisible bonds with everything she had - and her mold-enhanced strength was formidable indeed - Alcina was still unable to break the invisible hold the man had on her, though a thin trail of blood from his nostril, combined with right hand’s tremor was enough of an implication that it took more than a little effort on his part to keep her subdued.

Regardless, she could only stare at the seemingly unstoppable approach of that vile man, a grimace of callous indifference and deadly focus on his face as he sought to use an innocent child's life for his own unfathomable goals.

Behind him, Alcina could see her beloved Bela’s own grimace of blazing hatred of truly fearsome intensity. Even forced on her knees, with a barrel of a gun pressed to the back of her skull, her oldest daughter burning hatred for that man was palpable. Alcina was sure, that much like herself, the bright mind of Bela had no issues in finding eerie similarities between this human and the haunting presence of Miranda that kept the Dimitrescu family in thrall to her selfish whims for so many years.

The Dimitrescu matriarch knew her child well…

 

On the other side of the hall, Bela was burning holes in Paxton Fettel’s back in impotent rage.

Her body was a wreck. No strength left in her exhausted muscles. No unnatural powers to call upon. No companions to beseech for aid. No tricks left up her sleeve. 

Sparing a glance towards her unexpected companion - the traitorous wife of Ethan - Bela’s last hope was shattered. Her idea to use Haru’s mold-control powers to draw a piece of hardened substance from Sarah’s body to deliver a silent but lethal attack was brilliant, but it also failed, for none of them could even begin to anticipate an invisible bodyguard there to give his life for his uncaring master. Now, not even that resourceful and cunning woman had any more fallback plans.

All that stood in between Mia’s child and the monster who sought to absorb her powers was Alcina Dimitrescu, but even with a portion of her powers seemingly restored to her, she was no match against his array of telekinetic powers. 

There was no hope left for her to see and tears of grief fell freely from Mia’s bruised face. For all her sins, the motherly instinct ran deep in Mia, and Bela was not surprised to see the despairing mother disregard the barrel of a gun that was pressed to the back of her head. 

With a roar of hatred, Mia leapt forward towards the discarded pistol, determined to protect her child, no matter what.

Unfortunately, the Bloodfang fighter behind her was swift to respond. Surprisingly, instead of filling Mia with bullets and putting a permanent end to her, he merely bashed her with a stock of his rifle, making the wounded woman crash right back to the floor.

“Mommy!” Rose’s piercing shriek could not hope to melt that man’s stone heart, thankfully, the girl knew better than to try her luck in rushing past Fettel and towards the downed form of her mother.

Fettel paused for a moment, and glancing back towards them, shot Mia a cruel smirk. Bela didn’t miss the fact that he kept his shaking right hand firmly towards Alcina, keeping her in some kind of an invisible suspension field.

“Your help along the way was instrumental, Mia, therefore, I’ll let you live. But the price for your failure will make you wish I didn’t.” Fettel made a motion with his free hand, and an unspoken command was delivered to the goon behind Mia. Obeying it without question, the brainwashed terrorist crouched next to the fallen woman, only to brutally yank her head back by her hair, forcing her to observe the unspeakable cruelty that was surely about to take place.

Bela never felt such all-consuming hatred towards anyone before as she did now. Not even Mother Miranda herself could hope to challenge Paxton Fettel on the pedestal of loathing he so firmly occupied now, though they were frighteningly similar in many regards.

Just like Miranda, this man had no issues staining his hands with the blood of countless innocents in the pursuit of his wicked goals. While the so-called prophet of the Black God kidnapped and butchers hundreds, if not thousands of people over the decades in a bid to find a perfect vessel for Eve, Fettel displayed an utter disregard for his enemies and innocents alike by sinking the Duke’s ship and orchestrating a bio-terror attack in New York.

Just like Miranda, he had no qualms about using and then betraying those under him, as long as it advanced his aims. There was no mercy or compassion for her misguided followers to be found when the Holy Mother had decided that the devoted villagers and the Four Lords had outlived their usefulness. Making a mental parallel, Bela had little doubt about Fettel’s intention of eventually turning on Mia; not to mention brainwashing his latest hire - the oblivious Bloodfang, who were probably not that happy about being used as his cannon fodder and literal meat puppets.

And finally, just like Miranda, he appeared relentless in the pursuit of Rosemary Winters, once he realized her value for his schemes. No suffering or misery sown in their wake seemed to be enough to dissuade either of them.

In a way, this man was almost a perfect rendition of Miranda, in all of her worst traits - here to haunt them long after her demise. 

The few things that differentiated them were not working in his favor either. Miranda’s ultimate goal was the resurrection of her long-lost child and its fulfillment lay in claiming Rose as the vessel of Eve’s rebirth; however small, it was a distinct possibility that Miranda’s villainous streak would have ended there, were she successful. Meanwhile, Bela could not even begin to fathom what motivated this vile man to continue on his path of destruction, but something told her that he would hardly stop, were he allowed to claim Rose’s power. For Miranda, Rose was the ultimate prize, the final goal on a century-long search. For Fettel, however, Rose was merely a stepping stone; means to an end.

Just how many more people, present company notwithstanding, would perish were he allowed to take Rose’s birthright for his own? Bela did not want to even consider the answer to that grim question, but things being as they are, she was powerless to do anything but ponder upon their unenviable predicament as she glared at Fettel’s back; the man seemingly taunting both her and Mia with his unhurried gait.

To think that anyone would be able to overshadow the atrocities of Miranda and my own family… Yet this man has done so with despicable ease. So much misery and death… and for what? What could possibly justify the path of devastation this man chose?

Bela felt bile rising up her throat, as uncharacteristic, all-consuming hatred towards this singular man coursed through every fiber of her being. 

Paxton Fettel was about half-way towards the immobilized countess and the tiny shape of an innocent girl behind her. And there was nothing anyone could do.

It was strangely silent in the hallway, even though such a momentous occasion was happening in it right now. Other than Mia’s delirious wails, Rose’s unrestrained sobs and Fettel’s muffled footsteps, there was not a sound that could break this grim reverie. None of the deadly-still Bloodfang around them made a sound; Alcina’s face was locked into a grimace of fearful rage, with her lips twisted into a shape that normally preluded a vitriolic tirade, but not a word left them this time. The peculiar silence was made all the more glaring by the fact that this whole building and the surrounding area was a blood-soaked battlefield. Ordinarily, Bela’s bright mind would’ve never missed such an inconsistency, yet now, all it could focus on was the undeniable truth of the horrid predicament they all had found themselves in.

 

He had won.

 

No ! I refuse to accept it! I refuse! If there is any justice in this world; if there are any higher powers up there that watch over their misbegotten creations, let this vile creature be smitten right here and now for his sins… and I will happily follow along for my own!

 

The burning desire of her futile plea must’ve attracted the telepathically-gifted man, as he - without further slowing down his leisurely pace - angled his head her way, showcasing an edge of a cruel smirk that made Bela grit her teeth in nearly frothing rage.

She never wanted to murder another sentient being as badly as in this moment. To strip this arrogant man-thing of his pride, until only helplessness remained - as she carved him apart with a particularly cruel tool. Or…perhaps to string him up, slice his jugular… and just watch as life slowly left his eyes. But her flashing fantasies notwithstanding, all she truly wanted in this moment was for him to simply drop dead . Maybe it would not have been a fitting vengeance for the multitudes of slain innocents left in his wake, but it would be enough to offer salvation to those she loved… and what else truly matters in this world but the ones you love?

Unblinking, Bela continued to glare at Fettel, but perhaps he grew bored with her impotent fury, as he started to return his head to its normal orientation. A few more moments and he would’ve locked his gaze back with his intended victims, and soon after - the fulfillment of his vicious agenda would inevitably follow, as well as the demise of Bela and the people she cared about.

 

In the near perfect silence of the hallway, it was all too easy for Bela’s keen ears to catch on to the sudden but short-lived noise - a brief whizz she could only associate with a small object carving through air at rapid velocities; a thud of torn flesh and shattered bone.

It appeared that Fettel was in perfect synchronicity with the sudden appearance of this mysterious noise, since he froze dead in his tracks, with his head still half-turned between Bela and Rose.

For just a moment it seemed like the whole world decided to follow suit and cease all motion.

A single drop of blood was enough to shatter that fragile illusion, however. That drop was soon to shift into a crimson trail, running all the way down from Fettel’s forehead. 

It took a further moment for Bela’s tunnel vision to allow her to note a smear of fresh blood and brain matter splattered on the wall opposite to the direction of Fettel’s gaze.

 

“Huh..?”

 

A pitiful gasp of disbelief left his mouth, even as his right hand, moving with the hastiness of an infirm, briefly touched the neat little hole in his temple.

Bela imagined that his next move would be to carefully inspect the blood that was now smearing his hand, but apparently the inhuman resilience was not among the many unusual traits that man possessed.

There were no further taunts or gloats to leave his mouth. 

 

In a way, it almost felt anti-climatic to see this brutal adversary collapse like a bag of lifeless rocks. Somehow, Bela expected this most terrible of foes to go out with a bang…and not a sigh.

 

Paxton Fettel’s timely demise may not have been accompanied by a final speech or a boastful monologue, but it had multiple telling effects, nevertheless.

The six Bloodfang terrorists that had encircled Bela and the rest let out strangled gasps and moans of surprise, as if awakening from a particularly gruesome nightmare. Likewise, with no unnatural bonds holding her in place, Alcina Dimitrescu could once again freely control her body.

Despite the fact that Bela felt like staring, with her jaw wide open, at the still warm corpse of their bitter nemesis and ruminate upon this most unexpected yet most welcome of outcomes, the rational part of her mind was swift to remind her that they were not out of this predicament just yet, not quite.

 

“Mother, now!”

 

Freed from her unnatural bonds, Alcina didn’t need to be told twice.

Befuddled at they were, the terrorists closest to her could never hope to avoid her razor-sharp claws. The gruesome lacerations that they soon found themselves with were utterly incompatible with continued existence in this mortal plane and the two Bloodfang combatants were promptly sent to meet their maker.

Tom, following the lead, was swift to leap from his own spot at the floor, while putting another mind-boggled terrorist into what looked like a well-practiced headlock. Proceeding with the momentum, both of them soon found themselves on the moth-eaten carpet, though only one of them would ever stand up again, due to the terrorist’s neck being snapped by the combined velocity of their fall.

Ignorant of the struggle taking place on the other side of the hallway, Bela did not hesitate in using her enemy’s disorientation to her deadly advantage by grabbing hold of his assault rifle. Her broken wrist flared in agonizing protest, yet the adrenaline rushing through her veins was enough to allow her to continue the motion by brutally bashing the rifle’s stock into its owner’s masked face. 

The gas-mask might have served him well in warding off the lethal C-Virus, but it did little against the savage bash Bela put all of her remaining strength into, making the man fall down on his rear. Not letting go of her initiative, Bela was swift in rotating the rifle around and gunning its dazed owner down in cold blood. She had heard enough from these people to know that they were the scum of the Earth even without Fettel’s mind-control. Fettel might have assumed direct control of this particular band of these bastards so they would better obey his directive, but they all came here out of their own free will, fully aware of the gruesome tally they would take upon the innocent people of this city.

They deserve neither compassion, nor mercy.

With that ruthless thought in mind, Bela had no misgivings in turning the gun on the terrorist that was now held tight by Haru’s protruding mold growths. A simple, three-round burst gifted him with a kinder death than he deserved.

Whirling around in a bid to put the last Bloodfang goon into her crosshairs, Bela was in for an unpleasant surprise.

The terrorist had appeared to have recovered from the lingering effects of Fettel’s mind-control and was now aiming his shotgun right her way. With her body still weakened by Mia’s serum and the barrel of her own looted weapon still relatively far from pointing at his center-mass, Bela’s lightning-fast mind was instant in producing a particularly grim thought.

 

It’s over…

 

She was not fated to know the indignity of being slain by the last underling after outliving his master, however.

Before the terrorist could end Bela Dimitrescu, a loud bang accompanied his own demise - the worst damage he inflicted upon the blonde scion was splattering her with some of his blood and bits of brain that were roughly blown out of the terrible exit wound that marked his end.

As the final Bloodfang combatant breathed his last, a tense silence fell over the hallway and Bela found herself once again staring down in complete befuddlement, this time at her unexpected savior. 

With eyes wide open at the sheer improbability of the events of the last two minutes, all Bela could manage was a simple, “Why..?”

It was a fair question. They hated each other. They wanted to kill each other. This was merely an alliance out of convenience to see their mutual foe destroyed. Bela fully expected her to betray it the moment their goal was achieved.

Yet… instead of taking this golden opportunity to have Bela dispatched, Mia Winters decided to intervene and take the shot that would see the blonde Dimitrescu remain in the world of living.

Seeing Mia’s hands still clutching around the pistol’s grip, Bela took a moment to contemplate the possibility that the scorned wife wanted to be the one to put an end to her. Perhaps, it was just this personal to her.

Bela felt her lips narrowing into a thin line as she gripped her looted rifle tighter, while begging her waning body to provide just one more burst of strength to allow her to prevail in the potential confrontation. She was not going to die now.

Again, Bela could only let out a light gasp of surprise when Mia simply dropped her pistol, while allowing a mirthless, dry chuckle out of her bruised mouth.

“This is for… saving Ethan…”

It was obvious that Mia referred to the events that had transpired in Romania. Another gasp, this one of sardonic disbelief, left Bela’s lips. An admonishment that perhaps Mia could’ve returned that favor by not torturing and experimenting on her mother begged to be let loose.

Whatever vitriol that was at Bela’s lips never had a chance to be unleashed, however, as a tiny shape rushed towards the downed frame of Mia, while letting out a soul-piercing shriek only a child could produce.

“Mommy!!!”

Seemingly forgetting all about the blonde woman who towered above her with an assault rifle in tow, Mia was instantaneous in putting her child in a warm embrace, “Rosie…” a swift kiss on the girl’s forehead was followed by more soothing words, “Everything is alright now, my love… mommy is here…”

Bela would lie if she claimed that the sight before her was not heartwarming. For all of Mia’s sins - which Bela felt she was not in a position to truly judge, anyway - it was plain to see the love she held for her child.

Genuinely hoping that there would be no need for further violent acts for the foreseeable future, or, at least - for tonight, Bela allowed the assault rifle to fall down on the floor, only to rush towards her own mother, who was in the process of eviscerating Fettel’s corpse with her razor-sharp claws. A gruesome, but understandable precaution, considering the kind of people they knew. Nobody present wanted this horrible man to raise up and menace them once again.

Turning towards Bela after finishing her grim work, Alcina would not have been able to suppress a cry of delight, even if she wanted to do so.

 

“Bela!”

 

“Mother!”

 

Retracting her sharpened nails with a slight wince of pain, but with smoothness and ease reminiscent of her former glory - a tidbit Bela would be sure to inquire about, later - Alcina engulfed her eldest in a bear hug of raw relief and affection.

Both the mother and the child were covered in blood and viscera from head to toe, but that did little to stem the genuine love they poured all over each other.

“Is it… over?” Bela whispered in a fragile voice that ill-suited someone who had just gunned down two men in cold blood.

Despite her general maturity and respectable bearing, Bela still felt like a small child in the warm embrace of her beloved mother. After all the horrible trials and bloody tribulations of this violent day, she was desperate for the comfort the Dimitrescu matriarch was only too eager to provide.

“I pray for it to be so, my dearest.”

Nudging her head into the crane of Alcina’s neck, Bela tightened her hold around her mother - a gesture she reciprocated fully. It may not have been a long time in reality, but both the daughter and the mother felt like an eternity had passed since they saw each other last. Neither wanted to let go - scared that their loved one would vanish if they did so.

And so, they stood like that for more than a single minute, with the fear of some other terrible calamity coming to tear them apart soon giving way to the reassurance that everything will be alright.

Against all odds, the Dimitrescu family have persevered and with luck, they would all live to see the next dawn.

 

***

Several minutes ago

 

Cassandra managed to catch a glimpse of worry on Ethan’s face before he faded from view. Once again, it evoked mixed feelings in the Dimitrescu scion. Their history has been long and bloody and even going beyond the warrior’s spirit that burned bright and which scoffed at any signs of weakness, Cassandra was not sure that she was worthy of being an object of genuine care. Especially after what she had personally put him through.

Regardless, Ethan needn’t have worried. No sooner had Cassandra vacated the recreation room, her arms and legs had morphed into a myriad of black-winged insects that had little trouble arresting the fall of the rest of her body.

In the almost pitch-black darkness of the shrouded street, one would struggle to see the monstrous silhouette of the middle Dimitrescu sibling as she made her way towards the open window of the smoking lounge. Flying underneath the ledge, Cassandra felt her lips split into a wicked grin as she spied a rifle’s barrel poking right over her. 

Without thinking too hard or too long, Cassandra proceeded to morph her arms back into their solid, human shape. Considering her current weakened state, the remaining flies struggled to keep her aloft - but she had no intent to test their fortitude for too long.

In a single lightning-fast maneuver, Cassandra had both of her hands wrapped around the weapon’s barrel and, not giving the operator any chance to react, yanked on it, hard .

Even considering the element of surprise and her vampiric strength behind the motion, the end result of this shenanigan turned out to be above her expectations. Not only the sniper - who had likely been deep in concentration as he picked off hapless targets - followed after his cherished tool of trade right out the window, but he also let out a terrified shriek as he did so, invigorating the waning spirits of the middle Dimitrescu sibling.

The sadist in Cassandra couldn’t be happier, but the pragmatist would not allow her to merely enjoy the show the human put up on his way down. Limiting herself to a wicked chuckle, the brunette proceeded to grab the windowsill and in the next second she was already inside the room, with her burning amber orbs locked upon her next victim. Another Bloodfang sniper - clearly in shock from just witnessing his compatriot’s calamitous descent - could do nothing but jump backwards as Cassandra rushed him with deadly intent obvious as she tore off her own respirator mask and flashed her bloodied teeth.

All too aware of the gnawing hunger, it was too easy to overcome artistic, cruel as it was, desire to make that kill a particularly gruesome one. Instead of playing with her prey, the middle Dimitrescu sibling merely went for the throat, while batting away the man’s feeble attempt at defense. The noises of violent commotion, coming from the other side of the door - where she had left Ethan and Dion - were registered in the back of her mind, but the raging prey drive in her relegated them to a lower priority than the delicious looking man-thing in front of her.

Naturally, the terrorist was not looking forward to be eaten alive by a carnivorous mutant, so he did his - admittedly unimpressive - best to avoid such a grim fate, though, try as he might, he could not break the unyielding grip he had found himself in as Cassandra’s arms wrapped around him in a not-so-gentle embrace.

The biohazard suit the terrorist wore might have offered a degree of protection against the diluted C-Virus that permeated the surrounding air, but it did little against the vampire’s sharp teeth. 

As her deceptively sharp fangs tore into his jugular, the man let out a pained yelp, making Cassandra anticipate the gruesome feast with even more gusto. Just like it always did, the taste of the freshly-spilled man-blood of a still-struggling prey was enough to send her into an ecstatic feeding frenzy.

What she didn’t expect, however, was a serrated combat knife that soon found its way into her side; or, more precisely, the effects it would have on her flesh.

Normally, such a last-ditch attack would’ve been insufficient to stop her in her tracks, as the sentient, rapidly transforming swarm would simply rearrange itself to limit the damage to her human flesh, allowing her to continue her bloody feast. Unfortunately, out of all the places in her body, the bladed weapon was plunged deep into her existing wound and instead of parting before its edge, the damaged chimaeric flesh acted much like normal one would - to Cassandra’s chagrin… as well as immense, agonizing pain .

Unable to help herself, the tough-as-nails middle Dimitrescu sibling let out a short cry - the sensation of having her already raw and sensitive wound violated even further was nothing short of excruciating. Suddenly lacking oxygen in her lungs, Cassandra had no choice but to disengage from her would-be prey - who, likewise, managed to limp several steps backwards from her and was now pressing with his back against the locked door, with one hand desperately trying to stem the bleeding from the gushing wound in his throat - bereft of immediate first aid, that grievous injury was a mortal one, Cassandra’s anatomical knowledge was enough to tell her that much. The man himself, however, was apparently not too keen on going down that quickly…

Breathing heavily and with her eyes wide open from the sheer agony she experienced in this moment, the woman was not in a position to push her offensive, even as she spotted the terrorist reaching for some kind of blood-red syringe that was affixed to his belt. An alarm bell was quick to ring in her head - a peculiar and inexplicable sense of dread that demanded of her to prevent the injection at all costs, yet the crippling pain in her abdomen would not allow her to do just that.

Not that she needed to.

 

In a show of exceptional timing, the door the terrorist leaned against suddenly gave way, as a colossal force smashed against it.

Surprising no one, it was Ethan Winters who had decided to crash her little party. Before she could chastise him for ruining her hunt and claiming that she had the situation well in control and needed no man’s help, however, Cassandra noted a canine shape firmly entrenched on top of now prone Ethan. Far from being a man’s best friend, this particular dog frothed with unbridled desire to tear the human underneath it to shreds.

Not trusting her own strength in that moment to simply pry the mutt off Ethan, Cassandra instead attempted a different approach. A sniper rifle of the terrorist lay discarded nearby, while the man in question himself was somewhere buried underneath the broken door and the two heavy bodies on top of it. Likewise, a blood-red syringe was temptingly within her reach and Cassandra briefly contemplated injecting herself with it. Who knew what kinds of boons and powers it could bestow upon her?

Before she could proceed with her foolhardy idea, however, her brain visualized a perfect rendition of Bela, scolding her for even considering injecting some unknown chemicals into her body.

“Eh, I am already a perfect hunter, anyway.”

Her inner contemplation was finalized with a vocalized sentence and before Ethan could be further mangled by this mutt, Cassandra hastily recovered the sniper rifle. Every single motion she performed made the wound in her side radiate unspeakable agony, but her well-honed protective instincts would not allow her to remain a passive observer. Huffing with effort, the brunette managed to take a swift snapshot. To both her pride and joy, the result was a single, clean headshot. Delivered at nearly a point-blank range from a reasonably powerful rifle, it blasted the mutated dog’s half-rotten cranium apart in a shower of crimson gore.

Still, the resulting giddiness from a successful kill quickly gave way to a recollection of what exactly happened the last time she picked up a human weapon. Cassandra did not hesitate in throwing the gun away the moment the memory of that agonizing burning pain resurfaced in her mind, as well as covering her own face with her palms for good measure. 

Fortunately, the relatively simple Dragunov sniper rifle did not explode like the advanced gene-locked weapon the Replica soldier wielded… even more fortunately, Ethan was too occupied by getting out from the canine’s rotting corpse to notice her shameful display of fright.

Still in throes of agony from the slash at her wounded side, Cassandra, nevertheless, took several tentative steps towards Ethan and helped him stand up again, licking the blood around her mouth meanwhile. She couldn’t help but wince as she took a glance at his mauled arm. 

For once, the sight of a human’s open injury did not evoke a sense of exhilaration or hunger from her. Then again, who could blame her, considering the fact that Ethan’s torn wound was covered by some kind of unevenly distributed, serrated black crystals. Likewise, the remaining blood around the injury was distinctly black in color - like her own...even darker than her own. Moreover, it was also bubbling as if boiling - it truly appeared to be more like burning tar than anything that had any business circulating in a human cardiovascular system - before settling into that same strange crystallized shape.

Staring at this disfigured wound, Cassandra couldn’t help but feel vomit coming up her throat, as she recalled taking a bite from Ethan herself, years ago. True, he had bled red back then, and tasted mostly human… but now…?

Aware of her burning gaze, Ethan turned to glance her way, while putting his mauled hand behind his back.

“Dion might need our help…” the lack of commotion implied that the fight one Canine had against another was already over, one way or another, but Ethan felt beyond merely uncomfortable at having her questioning gaze linger at his violated limb. Once again, the issue of his humanity - or if there was anything human even left in him - made the man deeply conflicted. It felt as if the mold in his body was completely taking over - the added resilience was undoubtedly a boon in their current predicament, but who could tell if his condition was at all stable or even safe for his companions?

Perhaps Mia could…

It was his dear wife that had secretly mixed mold-suppressants with his food, after all. Now it seemed like a distinct possibility that they served another purpose, in addition to keeping Eveline down. Could it be that they prevented the mold from subsuming his human cells completely?

His further musings on the subject were interrupted by Dion himself, who limped his way into the smoking lounge, looking just a tad worse for wear. Like Ethan, he also sported several savage bite marks on his arm. These would definitely need to be checked by a professional later. When it came to mutated canines, rabies was hardly the only concern.

Exchanging tired glances with the bruised survivors, Dion noted the obvious, “Guess the doggies were the sniper’s lookouts, after all… Good thing you took care of the snipers themselves, Dimitrescu…”

Cassandra wanted to let out a self-satisfied scoff in response, as if to say, ‘naturally’ , but a sharp pain in her side arrested the air in her lungs. Noting her discomfort, Ethan was swift to redirect his attention to the body of a terrorist still trapped underneath the door. It seemed that without his serum and with additional trauma of the impact, the man had expired on his own sometime during the man-beast struggle.

Displaying his scavenging talents, it only took Ethan a moment to produce a first-aid spray, which he did not hesitate to offer to Cassandra, ignoring the flaring agony of his own mauled limb that demanded immediate attention.

The woman accepted the offering with a nod of gratitude, before spraying the healing substance over the wound in her abdomen. It would take a lot more than that to properly heal that grisly injury, but it should make it bearable for now.

“I wouldn’t mind a bit of that myself…” Dion’s pained expression did little to evoke pity from Cassandra, but she passed the spray to his waiting hand anyway. Hastily applying some of that antiseptic/coagulant mist on his injury, Dion passed the bottle back to Ethan, who, after some consideration, let out an exhausted sigh that betrayed the weight on his soul and applied the remaining spray to his crystal-covered arm.

Miraculously, no sooner than the green herb-derived mist touched the serrated edges of the crystalline substance, it shifted from ebony black to dark red, while morphing from something that appeared nearly geological back into what could pass for organic matter. Hard, serrated edges were smoothed into lumps of flesh and in mere seconds, Ethan’s unnatural-looking injury could hardly be told apart from an ordinary, semi-healed scar tissue.

“Holy shit…”

“Yeah…”

Cassandra had a momentary desire to scold Dion for his inconsiderate remark. It took a forceful self-reminder that Ethan’s mental wellbeing was not her problem to keep her mouth shut. 

Regardless, they have wasted enough time on licking their wounds and now they have to get back on track. Invigorated by the protective urges, Cassandra proceeded to return to the window, recovering the sniper rifle on her way. Her lips split into a wicked grin as she contemplated the irony of turning a weapon against its rightful owners.

Unfortunately, the time it took them to take over this sniper nest saw the terrorist offensive advance further into the apartment building where Alcina and Rose took refuge - there were very few Bloodfang left outside, though a certain missile launcher-totting goon on a rooftop to her right was swift to attract her attention - thanks to the rifle nightvision scope. It was quite possible that this terrorist in particular was responsible for their helicopter being shot down and Cassandra was only too happy to dispense karmic retribution upon him, delivered by a 7.62×54mmR armor-piercing round.

“Hah, gotcha, you little bastard.”

Nobody could miss the sadistic glee in her voice as the distant target collapsed in a heap, though neither Dion nor Ethan had any problems with her cruel streaks - not as long as it was directed upon these violent terrorists, anyway.

Entering a state of heightened focus, Cassandra continued the hunt for the Bloodfang, picking up three more targets of opportunity that presented themselves in quick succession - a machine gunner on the back of one of the pickups, a portable mortar operator, as well as man with a red wristband holding onto a bulky radio unit - perhaps an officer of some kind; barely-perceptively spurts of blood and the sight of her targets collapsing were her reward.

Meanwhile, Dion fuddled with the deceased terrorist’s radio - it seemed like chaos and confusion was reigning supreme on their frequency, implying that more than one thing did not go according to their plan. That was enough to embolden all three of them as the notion that their loved ones could still be safe and sound was most welcome after the seemingly ceaseless struggles.

The remaining terrorists outside finally wisened up to the fact that their own sniper nest was compromised and no longer provided Cassandra with easy kills - making her consider the direct assault as the next logical course of action, now that they had sufficiently weakened the Bloodfang perimeter by eliminating the snipers and heavy weapon specialists.

Before she could turn around, however, a sudden and unfathomable urge made her remain locked in her position. 

 

She could not even begin to comprehend exactly what she was feeling right now, all Cassandra knew was burning rage, directed towards a very specific and a very inconspicuous spot on the apartment building’s 5th floor exterior wall. To most, one red brick looked much like any other, yet Cassandra could not tear her gaze from the one she could swear was glowing molten with the heat of a furnace. 

Gritting her teeth in stupefying anger, all Cassandra wanted in that moment was to obliterate whatever was behind that brick wall, even if she had no clue about its identity. 

There was no rational thought involved when she took aim at that inexplicably specific part of that simple brick wall or when she squeezed the trigger, letting the 7.62×54mmR armor-piercing round loose.

Utterly entranced and wide-eyed, Cassandra dumbly stared at the super-sonic bullet trace she unleashed - for all the deciseconds it was present for, then at the dusty upheaval caused by the projectile piercing its way through the unfortunate red brick, and finally at the neat little hole that was left in its wake - the only visible reminder of her spontaneous anger made manifest.

For a couple of seconds it felt as if all the sound was sucked into this tidy hole, since Cassandra could hear nothing but the ringing in her ears.

The wicked rage that clouded her mind relented quick enough, soon dissipating into nothingness, leaving only confusion behind. In turn, the sounds and colors of the world returned back to the Dimitrescu scion, though the knowledge of the committed act or the motivation behind still eluded her.

Her mouth felt dry and her hands trembled; with dozens of questions and erratic thoughts rushing through her head. Cassandra felt confused, somewhat foolish, yet she could not deny the inexplicable satisfaction and fulfillment that grazed at the edges of her psyche - as if she had just achieved something monumental .

 

“Miss Dimitrescu..?”

 

Ever polite, Dion managed to shake Cassandra from her stupor with his simple query. Regardless of what she had just done now, even if it turned out to be nothing at all, did not change the fact that her mother still needed her help. With the majority of the Bloodfang outside the building dead or in hiding, the coast was clear for them to advance inside and hopefully provide the aid the occupants so desperately needed.

“Right, let’s go!” Turning around, the remnants of a trance-like state that visited Cassandra faded away, returning the full clarity of mind to the daughter. Time was of the essence and she was done setting the stage. “Mother is waiting for me!” Nobody could question her devotion to her family or the protective streak that would always dominate her decision-making process in times of a crisis.

Dragunov rifle in tow, Cassandra Dimitrescu was determined to march inside the apartment building and save her mother, while putting anyone who dared to stand in her way six feet under.

On her way out of the smoking lounge, Cassandra spared a glance at Ethan, who was just standing up as he finished scavenging useful items from the deceased Bloodfang. Her keen eyes immediately noted a particularly rigid pattern to his motions, almost machine-like. Hardly in prime conditions herself, Cassandra was swift to attribute that to his recent injuries, which likely impaired at least some of the fine motor functions. Perhaps Ethan even thought the same about her, after all, with her pained gait and hunched posture.

Hearing both men following along, Cassandra dismissed all of her concerns, certain that they would all share a good laugh about how foolish they looked today at some point in future.

“That was… a fine shot, Cassandra .”

Coming from behind her, Ethan’s voice sent chills down her spine. She tried to take the simple comment as a sarcastic one - after all, it's not often you see someone wasting a bullet on a brick wall. It's not like Ethan could possibly know about the potential effects of that shot any more than she did - and she knew nothing, therefore, how could he genuinely judge the quality of that shot?

Rationalizing that part of the comment, Cassandra could still not shake the unease she felt from the way he pronounced her name - as if he spoke it for the first time, and moreover, from the peculiar feeling that she sensed a certain amount of malice and hatred in it. Not that she could ever truly blame Ethan for hating her - God knows she gave him enough reason for that, but she genuinely thought that they were past all that…

Still, regardless of the creeping chill that now seemingly permeated the surrounding area or the atmosphere of unease around them, Cassandra would not slow her gait towards her goal. Not for some silly premonitions, anyway.

Nervously licking her chapped lips and gripping the trophy rifle tight, Cassandra continued leading their small procession in forlorn silence, Dion and Ethan following in tow. One way or the other, this was their endgame.

Notes:

So... this was quite a bit of a delay, after all...

Honestly, I don't have any real excuse, and the delay was mostly a combination of factors such as a chain of minor IRL events, my own laziness, shifting interests and the tedium of proofreading your own works (it does get a bit hard when the word count rises so high). Also, I always have trouble finishing things, and this work is quite close to the end :P

Now, that still means that I owe you guys an apology, as I was the one who set up the tempo expectations in the first place and was not able to live up to it.

Anyway, I hope this chapter was at least somewhat worth the wait and know that the next chapter is already in the works ^^

As always, I appreciate any forms of feedback and would love to hear your thoughts on this chapter! Hope you're all staying safe! :)

Chapter 47: The Exorcism of Self

Notes:

This chapter is likely going to be the most weird one I've written so far! You've been warned.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Ethan opened his eyes slowly and found himself in an eerily familiar place. Glancing around in a frightful recognition, all he saw was an endless expanse of low-hanging dark gray mist, as far as an eye could see. 

Looking down at the ‘ground’ below the mist, Ethan could not suppress the desire to gulp as he beheld the uneven layers of unmistakable inky black substance, with bulging veins crisscrossing it at random intervals. The ‘sky’ above was covered by raging storm clouds, with a great many sparks of lightning running through it seemingly both horizontally and vertically. There was no sound of thunder to accompany it. The air felt unbearably heavy, as if an invisible giant hand was pushing down on all who had the misfortune to find themselves in this forlorn world.

This alien place has changed much since the last time he was forced to visit it, yet Ethan had no trouble recognizing it as Eveline’s mental prison - his own mind, or perhaps, the only way his own mind could picture itself as. There was no sign of Eveline herself - a particularly grim realization for the man who came to genuinely care about the ghastly girl that once upon a time visited a lifetime of horror upon him.

Of course, Evie’s absence, as painful as it was, was not his only concern as he gazed upon the desolate plains that supposedly mirrored his own being. He struggled to recall just where he had been before being drawn into this place. Coming with a blank, Ethan had no choice but to focus on his immediate surroundings, as unwelcoming as they were.

The proliferation of mold was likely a grim reflection of his physical condition, and Ethan was surprised at how easily he found himself accepting it. It would not be a huge shock to him if by this point he was composed of mold entirely, with every healthy human cell replaced by the fungal one, which then proceeded to mimic its original function and appearance. 

There were two implications that Ethan could not help but consider. First, somewhat less sinister, was the presence of some kind of an overarching control entity. Ethan knew well what monstrous shapes and gargantuan proportions mold organisms could take once the uncontrollable mutations kicked in. The very fact of his somewhat stable and distinctively human appearance implied that something within was holding him that way; something was holding the reins behind the all-engulfing wave of mold. Ethan found himself dearly hoping that it was Eveline, not gone after all, but merely dormant; yet still present enough to give shape to the amorphous miscreation that was mold. Ethan could simply come for no other explanation for his continued existence as a human look-a-like, otherwise.

Secondly, however, the implications that he was a mere mold simulacrum of a human being was still quite horrific in itself. It's not a simple thing to forfeit one’s humanity, after all… though Ethan could draw some comfort from the fact that Bela, Cassandra and Daniela all went through something similar if not the same - yet managed to regain their humanity in the end, nevertheless. 

For what truly measures humanity, anyway? Could the distinction truly lie in something as simple as material composition of one’s cells… or does it go deeper, after all?

The deeply philosophical musings were interrupted by mockingly theatrical clapping, coming from behind Ethan.

 

Turning around while desperately pawing at his belt in a bid to procure a weapon to defend himself with, Ethan could not help but take a step back from the sheer shock of seeing another person in this mindscape reality of his - or whatever this place was. There was no weapon to defend himself with.

The features of the man before him were eerily familiar, though Ethan was sure that they had never met before. Tall, somewhat lanky; with his face having a distinct predatory appearance, reminiscent of some birds of prey with its sharp angles and military cut hair on top of his head. Of course, nothing about this mostly ordinary man screamed exotic quite as much as a bleeding gunshot wound, dead in the middle of his forehead.

Noting Ethan’s peering at his horrifying and indubiously lethal injury, the strange man merely brushed two fingers across the wound, with blood evaporating just like that, showcasing that neither this man nor this place abided by any laws of reality Ethan has grown used to. The wound itself, nevertheless, remained firmly in place.

“One of your little flies turned out to have quite the bite.” The man did not appear overly distraught as he delivered the line in an almost bored tone. Ethan, however, suddenly was able to recall Cassandra randomly shooting at a brick wall as the last moment before he ended up in this mind-prison once again. Perhaps that shot was not that random, after all.

The flood of information that came after that first recollection was instantaneous. Rose, Bela, Alcina and all the others were still in danger while he was stuck here in this crazy place with this freak. “Just what the fuck are you?” Ethan was hardly ever particularly selective with words, and this mind-boggling situation did not smooth that quality. “What the fuck is going on?!”

The strange man just tsked with mild annoyance. Suddenly, at the wave of his hand, the stormy clouds above dissipated in an instant, only to reveal a gargantuan mirror that showed a familiar figure. 

Anna, the stewardess from the Duke’s ship. An innocent girl, that was, for the lack of a better term, possessed by unfathomable forces that only Eveline had faced directly. A mere waitress, controlled by this insidious force, not only was able to sabotage the once-glorious yacht, but also hid aboard Chris’ aircraft - pretending to be just a fearful victim, while in reality planning her next move. The ambush on the French safehouse, where so many lives have been lost and they themselves only survived by a hairbreadth.

Unknowingly to most, somewhere during the peaceful interval Anna had been infected by Evie and that fact helped them prevail against the overwhelming force Replica ambushers had brought to bear against them. Later, Bela had relayed Eveline’s account of the mysterious being the ghostly girl had encountered inside Anna’s psyche.

He is gone now, but he will be back. He won’t stop. He doesn’t know how to stop.

When Eveline had referred to the man possessing Anna to Ethan himself, he did not miss the fright that flashed across her eyes as she had mumbled out: a very, very bad man…

Not much could scare Eveline or make her particularly judgemental, due to her own vast experience in horror and misery, as well as a prolonged introspective period that made her reassess her values and goals. That’s why Ethan knew that this mysterious man meant business, even if they were not able to get much more about him from the ghostly girl.

Now, however, Ethan stared right at the person who brought so much devastation against him and his friends, it seemed. Ethan’s fists clenched, though he knew better than to attack right away - somehow it felt dubious that a conflict in this unfathomable mindscape could be resolved with good old fisticuffs.

“How did you even get h-” Before Ethan could even finish his inquiry, the strange man waved a hand and the image of Anna changed, instead showing what Ethan knew to be the Dragonfly Hovercraft’s cargo hold - with the mysterious device that was instrumental in repelling the Replica assault. The device Ethan activated himself.

The man’s gunshot wound started bleeding again. Ignoring it, he merely smirked at Ethan before explaining in a conceited tone, “The moment I saw your little band of misfits having a fully functional Wade Projector , I knew it would be an issue.” The man turned around, while dramatically raising his hands in a universal gesture of exasperation, “Of course, when life gives you problems, you can always turn them into opportunities , if you work hard enough.”

He turned around again, glaring at Ethan with unbridled hatred, “and I’ve worked very hard to get where I am, Mr. Winters.”

At that, Ethan couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, while casually mentioning his way, “Yeah, very impressive, ending up dead . Good job. Now get the fuck out of my head and go haunt some toddlers.” There was little mirth in the last sentence. Ethan was not about to let anyone get in between himself and his daughter - not out there in the real world, and certainly not in this accursed mindscape.

Waving him off like one would an annoying blowfly, the man let out a scoff, “My mortal shell’s untimely demise was merely a setback… your body will serve just as well for what I have in mind.”

That finally got Ethan into a belligerent mood, “oh yeah?” As if he would ever give up his own body without a fight.

Apparently finding amusement in Ethan’s combative stance, the man let out a nasty smirk, before pointing the father’s way. “Indeed.”

What happened next tested Ethan’s composure to its limit. One second they were face-to-face, almost within an arm's reach. The next one, the very landscape between them expanded and shifted with unbelievable speed - turning the frame of his nemesis into a barely perceptible speck, seemingly miles away from him.

Undaunted and growling in rage, Ethan forced his body into a sprint - with the man’s mocking laughter, followed by arrogant monologuing, seemingly coming from every direction, being his only reward.

“I’ve sabotaged the device you’ve so carelessly operated, Mr. Winters. Your very soul - if you believe in such a thing - is bleeding . To those that know how to see such things , you glow like a beacon in the darkness - making tricking even death itself possible.”

The very notion that his presence now allowed this deadly nemesis to anchor himself to the world of living sent waves of nauseous throughout Ethan’s stomach. He came here to save Rose… and not endanger her further.

As if reading Ethan’s thoughts - a distinct possibility, Ethan realized, the man let out another chuckle, before noting in a smug voice, “There were no shortage of willing candidates who would volunteer to house my essence, but your body is far more suitable than just some random goon’s, don’t you think? A father… and his daughter… a reunion to die for.”

The horror of Ethan’s situation was not lost upon the father, but it only served to spur him on. To his relief, the distance between them rapidly shrunk as he sprinted his way through the desolate, moldy landscape. Ethan couldn’t wait to see how this bastard would gloat once he had his hands around his throat.

The man sounded unbothered as he continued his previous thought, “More than merely acting as a lighthouse in a stormy sea, your torn soul provides a backdoor into your mind.” Ethan was almost within striking distance, with his fist raised up to wipe the smirk of that arrogant prick’s face. He did not appear to be worried whatsoever, “and now…this is not quite your body anymore, nor is this quite your mind…”

With but a wave of his hand, the man nullified all progress Ethan had made towards him, as the father once again found himself far away in just a blink of an eye; his fist still raised in defiance.

“In body, in mind and in soul - you… are… mine .”

The foreboding words resonating across this dimension sent a chill running down through his spine, but Ethan’s conviction or determination would not be shaken that easily.

“Just like your precious daughter will be.”

Now that made Ethan stop dead in his tracks, full blown panic coursing freely throughout his body. The scream of rage that left his lips was barely human, “Don’t you dare touch my daughter, you bastard!”

The reply that came his way was enough to cause beads of cold sweat to run down his temple.

“I won’t. It's your hands that will do the deed, after all.”

Again, the landscape shifted, seemingly putting yet another mile between Ethan and this mind-fragger. The man’s loathsome voice kept coming as clear as if he was standing right next to Ethan, however, “I do appreciate a good irony, you know, Mr. Winters. Few could claim to have done as much as you did for your child, yet you will be the instrument of her demise, in the end.”

Fortunately, Ethan could feel no exhaustion creeping into his muscles, no matter how much he ran - as befitting a tireless mental avatar, he supposed. Still, desperation slowly started to grasp his heart in its unyielding hold.

“The perils of helicopter parenting, I suppose…”

The cruel jest did nothing but infuriate Ethan further, “Come here and fight me you coward!”

Clearly, the intruder had no such desires, as only more mockery resonated across the landscape, “As amusing as this diversion was, I am afraid I’ve got more important things to do than to play with you, Mr. Winters. Let us see how well you know the contours of your own mind, shall we?”

No sooner has he finished this sentence than a veiny black wall rushed out of the moldy ground in front of Ethan - almost making the man collide with it. Stumbling backwards, Ethan was all too aware of similar walls conjuring themselves seemingly out of thin air all around him.

For a second Ethan feared being trapped, but as soon as the movements of the walls stopped he could easily tell that most of them had one or two passageways, which were fully enclosed by yet more walls as they twisted into yet more passes. The many passageways went off into the distance, only to randomly end with twists and turns, making this whole place reminiscent of some kind of a labyrinth of mold.

“Fuck!”

Ethan’s curse was immediately followed by a burst of action from the man as he did the first thing that came to his mind - to try and scale the wall right in front of him. He wasn’t going to play these degenerate games, not if he could help it. 

Unfortunately, try as he might, the wall turned out to be too steep and unyielding - he could gain no leverage with his hands and a coating of slime prevented any footholds, making scaling it an impossibility.

Growling in fury, the distraught father had no choice but to enter the labyrinth, doing his best to not forget the last direction he saw that man in as he navigated this insane maze.

Nevertheless, even with his almost picture-perfect memory, it took Ethan what he assumed was around ten minutes before yet another dead-end made him realize that he was hopelessly lost. The twisting passages and uneven walls made sure that his sense of direction - if such a thing even applies to this place - was scrambled beyond recognition.

In a bid to gain any kind of a hint, Ethan screamed as loud as he could, hoping for a response, “I’ll fucking kill you, you bastard, I swear it!” He meant the threat fully, however.

The mocking response came, but it offered no respite, as it resonated across the unnatural mold barriers - seemingly coming from every direction at once. 

“Someone has already beaten you to it, I am afraid.” Ethan could do nothing but slam his hands against the unyielding mold of a nearest wall, crying out in impotent fury. This labyrinth was impossible to navigate. The invader wasn’t done yet, however, “I would advise against screaming your empty threats. I wasn’t exactly gentle when I tore my way into you… a certain someone might have followed in my steps.”

As if summoned, a shadow came to loom over Ethan in the very next second - the man not questioning how a shadow could even manifest in this lightless place - only to vanish again, followed by muffled footsteps.

“It preys on remnants, you see… remnants like you , Mr. Winters.”

Somehow, it took Ethan this particular remark to realize that he appeared to be partially translucent. Gazing at his own hands and seeing the contours of a moldy wall through them, Ethan could only gulp in shock and fear. There was no doubt anymore, this vile mind-snatcher somehow managed to assume complete control of his body and mind and if Ethan could not evict him in time, he would simply fade away into nothingness. And then this monster would be free to claim Rose, with no one to challenge him. No one to even guess that the final threat to Rosemary Winters would come from the one who wore the guise of her father. The irony was not lost on Ethan; it's like all this horrid mess with Miranda was repeating itself, just in an even more terrifying and insidious form.

But how could he navigate through this labyrinthine maze in time? And even if he did, how could he put an end to this menace? Ethan was a mere shade of his former self, a prisoner in his own mind… what would it take to break loose? Something told him that simple determination or resolve was not going to cut it this time. Not against this supernatural foe.

“Fuck!”

Another curse left his lips and no sooner than it did, Ethan heard a low hiss coming from somewhere to his left. The hiss was followed by the same muffled footsteps from before and in several seconds Ethan was able to catch a glimpse of a… creature , as it stalked some distance away.

The hideous monstrosity appeared to be at least nine foot in length, with a pale, hairless body and a face not even a mother could love - for it had no face. Like a budget mannequin, it had no eyes, no nose, no mouth, yet it moved directly towards Ethan, or perhaps, towards the sound he made as he let his curse out. Unlike Ethan, however, it was not particularly hindered by the walls of this maze, as its prodigal height and power allowed it to simply leap over them. 

As it leapt over one such wall, Ethan had a chance to appreciate the monstrosity in its full unholy glory. Its elongated body appeared malnourished to the point when Ethan wouldn’t have been surprised if it was literally just skin and bones moving towards him now. Its deathly pale skin was somewhat reminiscent of a Dimitrescu sibling back in Romania - with none of the appeal. Most horrifyingly, however, the abomination’s creepily thin limbs all ended in a single elongated edge - which appeared sharp enough that Ethan had no doubt that the monster would be able to effortlessly impale him with any of them. Even beyond its hideous appearance, however, Ethan found his vision becoming blurry and experienced an abrupt onset of sharp headache as he peered at the creature. Nausea followed soon after.

Somehow, Ethan just knew that this was no mere harmless conjuration of his mind that now stalked towards him. He had no doubts that this monstrous creature posed a deadly threat to his very existence. He would not dare to take this Creep lightly.

As it came closer, Ethan’s flight-or-fight instinct begged to be unleashed. Rapidly turning towards the opposite direction, he was about to break into a mad sprint to escape this fearsome abomination, but instead froze dead in his tracks as his keen eyes spotted yet another figure that should not have been here… yet she was.

On another end of a passageway he was looking towards was that mysterious little girl in a red dress. Her depthless black eyes bored into his own, while tiny hands provided what he could assume was an instruction. The left hand was locked into the universal ‘stop’ sign, while her right hand’s index finger was gently pressing to her pale lips. She was not speaking, but the meaning was clear enough. 

 

Stay quiet and still.

 

Ethan had no idea why this strange girl was here, why she was helping him, or why he should trust that her ‘help’ was not going to get him killed. With many questions and no time to get the answers, his first instinct was to disregard the girl and sprint away from the ever-approaching monster.

Perhaps thankfully, Ethan did his best to suppress his desire to flee the abomination and did exactly what the girl motioned - stood as still and as silent as he could, even as the muffled footsteps came to end right behind him - with just a single moldy wall left in between the enormous monstrosity and his own fading body. Somehow, its mere presence was enough to sap strength from Ethan’s body, leaving him weak enough that he was sure he would not be able to flee even if he tried at this point.

Ethan could sense its head craning forward and down, ending up right over his own and Ethan would lie if he claimed that he was not afraid. He was fucking terrified. Nevertheless, to his credit, the man did his best in pretending to be a statue, even as the monster behind him let out another low hiss, which was followed by a particularly haunting clicking noise. Even as some kind of vile white liquid fell down upon Ethan’s brow and trickled down his face, the man remained stock-still. He didn’t question where the liquid was coming from. 

This horrid experience would surely remain as one the most dreadful ones Ethan had lived through in his strifeful life - if he lived through it, that is.

Ethan was sure that the monster would tear him apart any second now, yet the girl’s instructions proved true and after several unbelievably tense moments, the monster departed to search for prey elsewhere.

The second it moved away, Ethan felt strength returning to his weary limbs. It seemed like the creature’s mere proximity was enough to drain energy from him. All the more reason to keep his distance and avoid attracting its attention.

Only after the Creep’s muffled footsteps and bounding strides over the walls could no longer be heard did Ethan allow himself to let out a breath he was holding. It seemed like his extraordinary composure paid off, after all.

With the monster temporarily out of the way, Ethan was desperate to get back on track, yet even without some terrifying Creep stalking him, the problem of the ineluctable labyrinth remained.

“Good ol’ Lady Dimitrescu would’ve sure come in handy right about now…” muttering under his breath as he gazed at the eight feet tall wall, Ethan had a sudden inspiration to enter the passageway where he had last seen the girl in a red dress.

Moving swiftly but with care, Ethan soon reached the aforementioned passageway, which looked exactly like every other one nearby. Letting out a pained grunt that conveyed both his distress and desperation, the father took the twisting turn, only to find himself in a long corridor that stretched for almost as long as his eye could see.

Sure enough, that weird little girl seemingly waited just for him at the end of it, yet no sooner had his eyes glimpsed her did she dash into an opening, once again leaving Ethan by himself. 

Still, having at least some kind of a lead was infinitely better than wandering around this cursed place blindly… unless the girl was leading him into a trap that is. A questionable notion, however, seeing as how she troubled herself with saving him from that monster.

Following the path, Ethan couldn’t help but let out a light chuckle at how insane his life has become. It was not enough that his wife had been kidnapped by a monstrous mold girl and the family of brainwashed farmers. It was not enough for the aforementioned wife and the farmer to casually cut his limbs off, only for him to reattach them later. It was not enough that a crazed cult-leader took the form of his wife and stole his child, nor was being chased around the world and falling in love with a bug-vampire. He thought that his wife turning out to be a terrorist bioweapon researcher all along was the final blow to his psyche… 

But now he was not so sure of that, as he navigated his own twisted and hijacked mindscape, which was now controlled by yet another crazy fucker and filled to the brim with unfathomable monsters. Could it get any more insane than that? Ethan didn’t want to know the answer to this question, though he realized it was redundant, as he made the turn to follow the girl in red.

Another passageway, and this time it was a figure in a black hooded dress that stood in the middle of it. An eerily familiar person in a black hooded dress, with her lithe curves and burning locks of orange that peeked out of her hood.

“Daniela…?” Ethan was understandably cautious as he carefully approached the figure, though she made no effort to turn his way.

“I am so… so grateful to you, Ethan…” Daniela’s voice was unmistakable, though it still took Ethan by surprise. The sheer intensity of her voice, as well as her strange choice of words were as unexpected as her whole presence here, “You’ve helped us so much…“ there was both sorrow and hope in her tone, “You’ve forgiven us and shown us the way forward…” 

The woman slowly turned around, allowing Ethan a glimpse of her hooded head. Tears were trickly freely down her pale cheeks, yet the kindest, most genuine smile Ethan had ever seen in his life told him that those were the tears of joy. Even in this dark maze of despair, it made him rejoice in the fact that he had helped Daniela Dimitrescu move forward. Few deserved a chance at redemption as much as she did.

“I will never forget everything you’ve done for us!”

The exclamation was delivered in a soft voice, yet Ethan had no doubts about its sincerity. Still, the peculiar and unexpected encounter was not yet done, as Daniela extended her slender arms forward, allowing Ethan to spot a glinting object she held in her gloved hands. It was a large green gem, perhaps an emerald, cut into the familiar shape that she used to wear in her necklace - which now hugged her pale neck unadorned.

On its own volition, his hand reached for the gift, but no sooner than the skin of his thumb brushed against it, a gust of ethereal wind blew against them both. Like a sand sculpture, Daniela swiftly dispersed into nothingness, though not before letting out one last gratitude.

“I will forever be grateful to you, Ethan…my brother…

Daniela might not have really been here, but the gem she left behind appeared all too real in his translucent hand. Something told him that he would do well in holding on to it for now, so Ethan pocketed it.

Slowly, the man started to move forward once again, though the effects of this peculiar encounter were far-reaching. Somehow it was clear to him that Daniela was not truly here - wherever ‘here’ was - yet a part of her still reached out across reality itself to lend him a hand.

“I’ll see you soon, Daniela,” Ethan mumbled with a small smile blooming on his face. Nothing made sense anymore, but that made encountering a friendly face all the more encouraging.

The next minutes - if time was even a concept in this dimension - were spent following the occasional glimpses of the girl in a red dress, as she apparently did her best to tease his gaze with only the briefest of appearances before turning a corner and once again fading from view.

Soon, however, Ethan chanced upon a somewhat larger intersection, with a notable pool of inky black tar in the middle of it. There was no sign of the girl, and more than a dozen pathways open to him. Ethan could not help but grit his teeth at the dismaying sight. Perhaps she was merely toying with him all along, eager to prolong his misery with false hope.

Knowing better than to wander into a random pathway, Ethan attempted to search for clues, yet all of the passages looked exactly the same. None of them stood apart from the rest. Unable to outwit this ineluctable maze, the father ambled towards the tar pool, hoping to find at least some hint on its murky surface. 

Instead, all he saw was a twisted reflection of himself - a mockery of human form - a mold monster, just like the ones he had seen in the Baker’s house. Scoffing at the cruel tricks this place played on him, the man turned away and made a motion to move away from the pool.

He was not prepared when something grabbed at his leg, or when the hardened mold the ground was made of collided with his face as he went down hard. 

Grunting in pain and spitting out his own blood, Ethan did his best to struggle against the unexpected attacker. His free foot struck hard against some malleable substance, evoking a monstrous growl - making Ethan hurry all the more in breaking free, crawling away and finally taking a look at his newest assailer.

It was not a mere reflection he saw in the tar pool, Ethan realized as he peered at the monstrosity, now standing over him in all its moldy glory. As if stepping straight from the Baker’s boiler room, the mold monster raised its clawed hand for what was likely intended to be a killing blow, only for Ethan to roll away at the last moment.

Frustrated as its weaponized arm impacted nothing but the ground, the molded let out a fierce shriek - and Ethan was all too keenly aware that a low hiss from some distance away was immediately unleashed in response. While a single molded was simply too slow and ungainly to be a real threat, the noises of combat would surely attract a far bigger threat that Ethan hoped to never see again. Since he had no weapons to quickly dispatch the molded, his only choice was to try and lose it in the labyrinth. 

Not thinking twice, Ethan attempted to do just that and after quickly getting back to his feet, dashed into the nearest pathway - only to almost run into yet another molded. Stumbling backwards, the man could not suppress a curse as it appeared that he was being surrounded by these freaks coming from every pathway. Unarmed as he was, there was no chance of fighting his way past them; while trying to make a run of it would be the definition of foolhardy, considering their elongated claws itching for his blood.

Moreover, all the growling they did allowed the Creep from before to unerringly pinpoint his location and even as the ring of molded closed in around him, Ethan could see the faceless freak barreling towards them, with the walls of the labyrinth slowing it down only for a second each as it leapt over them. 

At this point it could go either way - either the molded would chomp on him, or the Creep would tear him apart. Pity Ethan could not see the outcome where he would walk away out of this intersection in one piece. Not unless a miracle happened.

Utterly cornered, Ethan could not possibly avoid the slashing attack the closest of molded was about to perform.

Expecting this to surely be the end, Ethan reflexively closed his eyes while raising his hands in one last hopeless attempt to defend himself.

When the blow never came, Ethan blinked his eyes open, only to gape at one figure he had expected to see in this place all this time.

Eveline. It was Eveline, in her unmistakable black dress that now stood in between the molded and Ethan, with her tiny hand somehow stopping the monster’s enormous arm. The molded did not attempt to resist the girl and instead showed obeisance by slightly lowering its disfigured head. Likewise, the molded’s kin ceased all attempts to move toward Ethan and merely awaited command from the ghostly girl. Eveline obliged the mold monsters by pointing her delicate index finger towards the gigantic creep that was almost upon them.

Like loyal dogs, the dozen molded immediately rushed to intercept the monstrosity that dwarfed them in both stature and power, heedless of any risks.

“Evie..?” Even as the molded engaged the Creep, Ethan couldn’t help but address the tiny girl he had expected to possibly never see again. She didn’t respond.

“Come on, Evie, it's me, Ethan!” Heedless of the atrocious violence happening so close to him as the gigantic abomination fought off the molded, Ethan attempted to get through to Eveline by putting his hands around her slender shoulders. She did not react at all to his touch and slowly began to sink into the moldy ground.

A vicious shriek, followed by a head of a molded flying past him and Ethan knew he was running out of time, yet he still moved around the sinking figure and stole a glance at her face.

Eveline’s eyes were completely dead and her face betrayed not a single emotion. She did not look like an energetic and vigorous girl he remembered from yesterday. There was seemingly no life whatsoever left in the husk before him - just a soulless remnant whose only purpose was to control and direct the mold of his body. A mere custodian the true Eveline left behind to keep an eye on the man she had no reason to love… yet she did.

Ethan felt the grip of despair tightening on his heart from seeing what has become of a person who became truly precious to him - almost like an adopted daughter. Yet, the man knew that he could not linger here. Chancing a glance to get his confirmation, Ethan had to suppress a wince as he beheld the Creep tearing a molded it had impaled with both of its drill-arms in two. The abomination did not waste a second in discarding its latest kill - allowing the ruined parts of the molded’s body to join its kin on the ground, with only eight more mold monsters still trying to put up a fight against the supernatural Creep. Not that they had a chance - the Creep was much bigger, faster, stronger and with far more impressive natural weaponry to boot - the molded could only hope to slow it down and as ironic as it sounded, Ethan could do nothing but use their sacrifice for his own benefit. 

Horrifying Ethan, the Creep’s faceless head suddenly spurted a mouth that violently emerged in a gory rush of blood and viscera. The hideous maw immediately opened wide, allowing all to behold its fearsome insides, filled to the brim with lines upon lines of razor sharp teeth. The closest molded even got to experience it all first-hand, as the colossal abomination chomped right on the molded’s head, filling the air with mortifying squelching noise that Ethan was sure he would not forget.

Desperately glancing around the intersection, Ethan had but a moment to select one of the pathways before committing to it - procrastination meant sure death, even if the alternative was to blindly wander around this goddamn maze. As his frantic gaze made one last rotation, Ethan thought that he spotted a patch of red in one of the pathways. Refocusing his glare on that particular passage, Ethan saw nothing that would break the absolutely uniformity of moldy walls, yet his choice has been made.

Breaking into a sprint, Ethan once again entered the labyrinth, putting all of his trust into the mysterious girl in red - for what choice did he have? 

While the sounds of violence behind him persisted, Ethan did his best to gain as much ground as possible with a mad sprint. The second it ceased, however, Ethan was wise enough to immediately slow down his pace to a much more steady one, making sure that the sound of his shoes against the hardened mold ground was as non-existent as it could get.

The endless twists and turns of this maze would’ve driven any sane mind into madness, yet his silent guide had shown no hesitation whatsoever as she led the way. Just like before, Ethan could do nothing but quietly follow the elusive girl in red, who still made sure to keep her distance and only show herself for briefest of moments - long enough for Ethan to be able to just barely follow her across the twisting corridors and uneven passageways, but no more than that.

The activity was grating enough on Ethan that he soon started gritting his teeth from frustration and prolonged focus. He was genuinely afraid that if he missed the girl’s red dress even on only one twisting turn or a craned pathway, he would be forever lost in the seemingly endless confines of his mind.

It felt like he was following the girl for hours. While he was not tired in a physical sense, the man found himself growing more and more exhausted mentally. How long could he go on like this? Moreover, Ethan was keenly aware that he was becoming even more translucent as time went by - to the point where he could now easily see the black mold walls through the palm of his own hand. Time was running out… for him and for Rose.

Following the girl into yet another twisted turn, Ethan was once again greeted by a particularly long corridor, with nobody in red dress in sight… but one in black.

It was Cassandra, that much was obvious from the sharp angles of her face or the brunette locks cascading down her head. Unlike Daniela’s, however, Cassandra’s apparition appeared distinctly more threatening with a wicked sickle drawn and bloodied lips twisted into a fearsome snarl. The same haunting sight that tormented him in the Dimitrescu family dungeons, so long ago. Ethan could not help but let his whole frame shudder for a moment.

Seeing no other way but forward, Ethan approached the vicious brunette, though warily. He still remembered well the cruelty she had inflicted upon him, even if he decided to move past it. In turn, Cassandra merely let out a hearty chuckle, though Ethan was not blind to her tense muscles relaxing somewhat; her pose becoming notably less threatening. A breath of relief left his parched lips - he was happy in more ways than one that they were enemies only in their past.

She stared right at him - perhaps through him, even and much like with Daniela, it didn’t feel like her speech was addressed to him - more like at him. “For a pitiful man-thing, Ethan is quite remarkable, is he not?”

Her words started as haughty and conceited, yet the last part of the sentence sounded uncharacteristically soft for Cassandra. The ‘man-thing’ was spoken without derision and his own name left her lips with what Ethan could only infer as affection. The sickle returned back to her side and instead her gloved fingers fished for something in her dress’ pocket as Ethan came to stand in front of her. He could even guess what.

“I suppose I owe him one… maybe even more than one…” There was now an unmistakable hint of affection in her surprisingly tender tone.

Ethan briefly considered that it is with Cassandra he has come the longest way. From bitter enemies who wanted to do nothing but to destroy each other, they became true comrades and perhaps even good friends. Forgiveness was a difficult thing to get… yet they both found it in their hearts to move on past their old grudges.

“I guess there are worse brothers-in-law.” Her lips relaxed in mirth and Ethan couldn’t not help but slightly blush at the implication. Somehow, the horror of the past hours gave way to ease of their unusual friendship. With his fingers brushing against her gloved hand, Ethan gratefully accepted the offered gift - a large yellow topaz, while mouthing a thanks from his heart.

“I'm pretty sure we are even by now, Cass… though I am not the kind to count favors among the family in the first place.”

Just like with Daniela, a sudden gust blew against them, and Cassandra’s form soon became naught but dust, though her warm smile - directed at Ethan - lingered for a second longer than the rest of her ethereal shape.

When he had almost felt like giving up and letting the oblivion claim him, this encounter was enough to reignite his heart and Ethan found the needed strength to press on. Not just Rose counted on him to succeed, after all. God knows how many others would suffer, were this vile man able to get his hands on Ethan’s daughter and the power that was her birthright.

Pocketing the precious gem, Ethan hurried to catch up to his mysterious guide in red; once again, the strange girl faded behind a turn the instant his gaze reconnected with her. It was a peculiar thought that crossed Ethan’s mind as he kept following her. Was she watching me and Cass? Did she guide me to her in the first place?

The path continued forward for a while and after several minutes Ethan became aware of the increasing difference between elevation. Peering down from where he was, it almost seemed like he was looking downhill, with multiple rows of the maze’s wall now being open to his gaze. Far more importantly, in the distance, he could see a particularly glaring oasis of beautiful, seemingly uncorrupted sand, hiding in the tainted ocean of black mold. A pond of what looked like crystal clear water was in the middle of the oasis and a lonely silhouette of his quarry was sitting next to it. 

Peering with effort, it appeared to Ethan that the vile mind-snatcher was deep in mediation. Perhaps he was - Ethan had no idea just how complex controlling someone else’s body was or wasn’t - but the father could only hope that it would allow him to sneak behind his nemesis. Maybe then he would have a chance to reclaim his mind and body alike.

Moving with an extra spring in his step, it wasn’t long before Ethan entered yet another intersection - but this one did not fill his heart with terror of indecision. Beyond the passway he came out from, there was only two others - one, opposite of him, going back into the depths of the labyrinth and finally, the last one, which opened up into what only could be described as a peculiar kind of a boulevard - except the role of trees in it was occupied by sickly, yet evenly spaced mold growths. The low-hanging mist was particularly thick there, obscuring the ground completely.

Nevertheless, that path was a no-brainer, since it led him directly towards the oasis in the distance, with no more maze to navigate. A most welcome change, as far as Ethan was concerned. 

Not thinking twice, Ethan proceeded to take a first step towards the opening, though a glimpse of red in the periphery of his vision made him stop for a moment.

Glancing to his right, Ethan was not surprised to spot the tiny shape of the girl in red, leaning from the twist that would lead back into the maze; her intent obvious. Follow me!

The man took a dubious look between the unwelcome confines of the moldy maze and a clear path towards his goal. True, the girl had been helpful in getting him this far, but it just made no sense to follow her blindly like this, not when he could actually see his destination.

“Sorry…” mumbling under his breath, Ethan made a motion to resume his walk towards the oasis, but he did not miss a look of fear that flashed across the girl’s black eyes. He immediately felt bad for disappointing the girl, considering how helpful she has been so far.

“Everything’s gonna be fin-” Ethan wasn’t sure if he wanted to reassure the girl or himself, yet the moment his shoe stepped on the open path of the boulevard, an unbelievably loud crack resonated seemingly across the whole damn realm. The mist underneath him slightly parted, allowing Ethan to frightfully note that the boulevard’s ground appeared to be paved entirely of glass-like shards of fragile crystallized mold.

Not even a second passed before a soul-shearing shriek of maddening rage burst forth from the maze’s depth. The creature that stalked him was on its way and it didn't sound happy. It did not sound happy at all.

“Shit! Fuck! Goddamnit!” Ethan was not looking forward to meeting that horrifying Creep once again.

It would be impossible to navigate the path forward with this sound-sensitive abomination on his heels. Glancing towards the second pathway, Ethan was not surprised to see the girl gone. She knew he had no choice but to follow her now. Maybe he should’ve just done so from the start.

Egged on by the furious shrieks of the beast, Ethan truly had no choice but to reenter the labyrinth of mold. The twisting passageways were as unwelcoming now as they had been minutes ago and Ethan cursed his misfortunes out loud, though in a hushed whisper, so as not to attract any further attention. “Fuck…” Thankfully, the monster did not follow him.

Still, while he was prepared for yet another foray into the maze that would last an indefinite amount of time and consist of him chasing the glimpses of the girl in a red dress, he was in for a surprise.

After a minute or so, the shrieks and roars of the creature quieted down and the very next turn Ethan took introduced him to yet another unexpected development.

Swift but wary, Ethan stopped just in time to avoid running right into his elusive guise. The girl in a red dress, who for seemingly so long was perfectly content with having him chase her glimpses around, now stood right in his way; her black eyes were peeking out through the unruly mane of ebony locks. Ethan was unable to suppress a gasp of fright at the unexpected face-to-face.

While appearing human enough from a distance, the girl’s depthless black eyes betrayed her distinctly unnatural existence to Ethan. The man took a wary step back, though he was unable to break the established eye contact.

In turn, unbothered by his reaction, the strange girl merely peered at him with what Ethan could only assume was a neutral curiosity - with no malice in her gaze. He knew better than to fancy this peculiar child harmless, but Ethan sensed no ill intent from her whatsoever. 

“Hello..?” Ethan’s attempt at a greeting was ignored utterly.

Her cold, scrutinizing gaze was more than a little unsettling. While she did not appear outright hostile, there was little to indicate that her disposition towards him was friendly - merely inquisitive, perhaps. It felt like his every secret was laid bare before her all-seeing black eyes and Ethan could not help but consider that he was being judged at this very moment.

Somehow Ethan felt like he was one wrong word or move away from losing her favor.  “Do you know how I could get out of here? I’ve got a daughter, you know…”

Not a word left her pale lips in response; neither did her face show anything but cold indifference. Perhaps the girl was offended at Ethan for not immediately following her along at the intersection and now was reconsidering whether he was worthy of her continued aid. 

Ethan knew that he needed every bit of help if he wanted to reclaim his body, “Look, I am sorry, alright? You were right and I was wrong.” Again, there was no response to his platitude and Ethan was beginning to grow irritated at this prolonged silence.

“Just what do you want from me!?” The remark came off more heated than he would’ve liked and the girl immediately swirled on her heel and dashed into a passageway to her right. Ethan did not miss a glimpse of fear that flashed across her eyes at his raised tone. Whether she was afraid of him or merely of his loud voice attracting the Creep was beyond him.

Immediately filled with both regret and fright, Ethan did not hesitate to follow what he rightfully saw as his only lifeline, “Wait, come back!” She didn’t respond, and moreover, for such a little thing she was remarkably fast on her bare feet - to the point where soon she once again faded from view as she took the turn at the end of a passage.

“This is ridiculous…” Ethan was not amused, but he continued on the trail, nevertheless. Beats walking back into the maw of that monster. Probably. Hopefully.

Taking the turn, Ethan expected a great many things to greet him - as this enigmatic dimension had no shortages of weird alien geometry or unnatural fuckery to throw at him, yet he was still surprised, nevertheless. 

It was not yet another intersection Ethan had entered, but an enclosed yet sizable area that appeared to be some kind of twisted simulacra of a city park - or at least a small part of it. A part Ethan was intimately familiar with, considering all the evenings he had spent there, right after a day of work as a systems engineer in Los Angeles. Sometimes - often in their first years together and far less frequently shortly before her first disappearance - Mia would also join him there - right on that little bench at the edge of the park. Even though this particular bench Ethan now stared at was composed not of wood but of inky black mold - just like about everything in this damn dimension - Ethan could not fail to recognize it.

It was not Mia that was sitting on the bench now, however.

Slowly, carefully, Ethan edged closer towards the bench and its sole occupant, even though his first reflex was to rush and embrace this person in a desperate hug of unbridled affection.

“Bela?” The man’s voice was shaky and full of disbelief, even though a logical part of his mind was not at all surprised by her presence here, considering that he had already encountered both of her sisters. He didn’t miss the way her black robed dress hugged her slender figure, either. How he longed to grab her in a possessive embrace and never let go.

Just like her sisters, Bela did not appear to notice Ethan, though it was possible that she was simply too consumed in her current ruminations, if her tense posture and contemplating facial features were any indication. Sitting on the bench and staring straight ahead, it appeared that Bela was deep in thought about something important.

Quietly sitting next to her, Ethan gently placed his arm around her shoulder. Expectedly, she didn’t react, but Ethan still found a seemingly endless source of solace from this simple act of physical affection. It felt right to share this little bench with a person he cared about so much. Suddenly, the man found himself even more determined to reclaim his body and one day return to this very bench in Los Angeles, with Bela at his side.

“Do you…” her voice was filled with uncertainty and fear, Ethan could tell that much from the very opening of the sentence, “ truly believe that we deserve a second chance, Ethan? After everything we have done?” Likely, the question was not directed at Ethan, yet he considered it, nevertheless.

That was the question that plagued Bela’s mind throughout this journey of theirs - Ethan knew that much. The weight of the crimes committed by the Dimitrescu family was heavy indeed, perhaps too heavy for her slender shoulders. And the truth is, no matter how much he ached to exclaim his confirmation, he just couldn’t do it while remaining honest to himself. He couldn’t simply dismiss all the innocent victims the Dimitrescu family claimed over the decades, no matter how much he loved Bela or how much he came to appreciate her sisters or even her mother. Love was a powerful force, which sometimes blinded a person to the truth. And the truth was important, as Ethan came to realize from his bitter experience. It was an equally powerful force that could break or mend even the strongest of relationships. It manufactured trust and in turn, trust - combined with love - could create a truly unbreakable bond that would fill people with purest of joys and most fulfilling of contentment. A relationship based on both love and trust could turn even a dull existence into a life worth living.

Ethan was determined to not repeat the mistakes of his past and be blinded by the love he felt towards another. His heart was still broken by the fateful confrontation with Mia. 

Yet Bela had shown nothing but honesty throughout their acquaintance. She had never lied to him, never attempted to deceive him. It's true, she had used him to get rid of Mother Miranda, but even then she was transparent in her intent. 

Mia might have had a number of topics she would absolutely refuse to broach - which cost both her and Ethan dearly, as they found out, but Bela did not shy from acknowledging her bloodsoaked past. She did not keep him in the dark.

Still, he could not simply reaffirm her query - for he could not absolve her of her sins, no matter how much he wished to do so. That said, he could do something else. He could dedicate himself - in body, in mind and in soul to aiding her and her family in their perilous path of atonement. Bela deserved that much. Just like the sins of her past earned her the wrath of humanity, her caring nature and selfless deeds won her boundless love, undying support and complete trust of one Ethan Winters, whatever that was worth.

There were no further words exchanged for several precious moments - there was truly no need for them in this strange place where even mere thoughts could float around with no limitations. 

Slowly, her tense expression relaxed. A soft smile tugged at the corner of Bela’s lips, as if she was aware of Ethan’s unspoken answer. Taking her hood down and letting her blonde locks flow down her slender shoulders freely, Bela turned her head his way. A breath caught in his throat as he beheld her radiant beauty. He was afraid to move even an inch, terrified that she would vanish into nothingness like her sisters.

Ethan’s heart leapt to his throat as her expressive amber orbs focused on his own gray eyes. Somehow he was certain that she was not looking through him, but right at him as she whispered the conclusion of their unspoken conversation.

“The right path is harsh and unforgiving… but with you at my side, I will not shy away from it.”

Ethan did not get to contemplate her words as her soft lips pressed to his own, and in the same moment her gloved hand placed a round object into his open palm that rested at her right knee.

“Don’t go!” Nothing but dust and wind was left to respond to Ethan’s desperate plea. Just like Daniela and Cassandra, Bela was gone, leaving only a single precious gem behind.

Seemingly at their own volition, tears trickled down Ethan’s eyes, even as his hand reached through empty air, desperate to wrap around Bela once more. Of course, he knew what he needed to do to achieve such a feat. To liberate his mind and reclaim his body.

Peering at the ruby gem in his palm, Ethan felt determined as never before to throw down the usurper and reclaim his own self. Far more than just his own life depended on his success.

“Just sit tight Bells… I am coming. We’ll get through it all… together.”

Gripping the beautiful ruby, Ethan stood up before gently placing it with its two sister-gems. Even without a concrete plan of action, the man was done holding back. He was resolute to give it his all, no matter the odds. Turning around and making a motion to go back to the passageway that led to the intersection, Ethan was not surprised to see a tiny form peeking from behind a corridor’s wall. Of course, that creepy little girl was privy to his most emotional moment, as well. 

Still… it was not a random chance that she guided him to this secluded spot in this accursed maze, was it? The notion that even his encounters with Daniela and Cassandra earlier were orchestrated by this strange girl appeared even more likely to be the case now.

Did she guide me towards them intentionally? Why? How could it be that she knows her way around here better than I do…?  And more importantly, what’s her game? What does she gain from it? Such thoughts coursed through Ethan’s mind as he made a step to follow this helpful stranger, yet some things are just not meant to be known.

A blink of an eye and she was gone like the wind, yet Ethan had no doubt in his heart as he followed along. Regardless of the power his nemesis possessed, this was his mind, and he would no longer tolerate that bastard’s presence in it.

On his way back to the final intersection, Ethan could no longer spy the girl’s red dress, yet he found himself confident enough to navigate the maze even without her help, somehow. Perhaps purging his mind of fears and doubts bestowed a certain clarity upon him, or maybe he merely remembered the way back.

Regardless, soon Ethan once again stood next to the pathway that led to the boulevard paved with black glass. The horrific creature that stalked this maze was nowhere to be seen now, but Ethan was certain that it would come running the instant he stepped onto this final path.

Ethan was afraid, yet it was not primal terror he experienced anymore. It was tamed and controlled - the kind of fear that pushed you forward without crippling you. An inexplicable feeling that all things will be resolved in the best possible way gave shocking lightness to his steps.

With little hesitation, Ethan made the first step.

Crack !

The maddening shriek followed the cracking noise instantly. The Creep was angry beyond words - that much was obvious. The chase lasted long enough and it hungered

Ethan burst into a sprint, with his eyes on his prize - the distant oasis and his quarry next to it. If he could only reach it before the creature caught up to him…

The breaking shards underfoot created a deafening cacophony, but even they could not hope to muffle the bestial howls coming from behind. The Creep was surely somewhere nearby and Ethan couldn’t help but take a single glance behind his shoulder. He wished he didn’t.

With enormous bounding strides, the abomination was gaining at him with mind-boggling speed; a number of tentacle-like appendages protruding from its slavering maw. The very visage of nightmare, with no mortal able to withstand its presence without the terror gripping their hearts. The insatiable, eternal hunger made manifest - distorting space and time around it and turning even the most stalwart of devotion into a hopeless lethargy.

For all his determination and resolve, not even Ethan could resist the pressure its focused rage exuded. Not even his stout heart could prevail against this supernatural predator from another dimension. 

His vision blurred from the sheer horror of his pursuer, Ethan did not see a particularly sleek crystal of mold in his way. Therefore, he could not avoid slipping on it and after that, with his muscles paralyzed by irresistible fright, he could not help but crash into the harsh ground, swirling on his way down and ending up gazing right towards the hideous monstrosity.

The beast was almost upon him and Ethan did the only thing that he knew held a chance of salvation for him. The man ceased all motion, as he lay sprawled on the ground. In turn, the monster slowed down a bit but persisted in swiftly closing the distance, likely intending to unleash its fury upon the location of the last sound it heard.

Experiencing an abrupt inspiration, Ethan hastily made a motion to grab the closest mold crystal from the ground. It was stuck, yet with a frenetic effort, he was able to break it away - only to hurl it with all of his might against the nearby tree-like structure. The creature was mere seconds away from him; its drill-like limbs raised for a decapitating slash.

The thrown crystal shard impacted the solid surface of the mold construct in the next instant, breaking apart in a shower of fragments and accompanied by a thundering crack. 

Allowing Ethan’s weary heart to experience a moment of relief, the Creep abruptly changed the direction of his rush and slashed at the tree with both of its drill-like arms. Despite its gaunt appearance, the strength in its willowy arms was truly immense, as the moldy trunk all but broke apart from its shattering blows.

Having obliterated the tree-like miscreation, the Creep took a tentative step backwards. From its tense posture and rapidly shaking head, it was obvious to Ethan that the abomination was aware that it was fooled and that its quarry was still somewhere nearby. Other than its erratically convulsing head, the monster stood perfectly still and, considering their proximity, Ethan knew that any sound that could betray his location would be his last.

More than merely not moving a muscle, Ethan did his best to also cease his breathing and heartbeat. Simply staring at the reality-warping monstrosity brought unbearable pain, but Ethan did not dare to as much as crane his neck the other way.

With the cessation of sounds, the beast appeared lost. Snarling in foaming rage, the monstrous Creep shook his deformed head in obvious frustration before furiously slashing at the remnants of the tree trunk next to it, ripping right through its mold structure until nothing was left intact.

For a second, Ethan dared to fancy himself save from the blind abomination, yet clearly the enraged monster had had enough of the cat-and-mouse game they were playing.

Letting out a piercing shriek that was more akin to a battering shockwave, the beast did something that made Ethan’s heart skip a beat.

Its arms, which ended into a singular drill-like edge, started to shiver and the beast screeched in what Ethan could only assume was pain. Soon, however, the vibrating drill-like appendage divided into three distinct claw-like fingers, even as the monster’s whole frame shuddered in agony. Crimson blood gushed freely between its torn flesh, implying that this process was far from simple for the monstrous creature. It just wanted to get at Ethan that much.

Not wasting a second, the beast used its newfound six digits to brutally claw at its own face, leaving deep gashes in what used to be pristine skin. The monster roared in agony, yet kept at its grim task with unyielding determination. Ethan had a very bad feeling about it, as he stared at the monster in horror. It felt like his own head would implode from the staggering headache, yet Ethan dared not to look away.

The crimson blood flowed freely down upon the crystal shards, yet soon the fruits of the monster’s labor were apparent, as two blood-soaked orbs soon blinked frantically, not yet able to perceive the world around them fully.

Getting up from his spot at the ground, Ethan was at the very least determined not to die cowering like a sniveling coward. Of course, it was hard to regain his composure when the monster wiped the blood off its eyes with a single clawed hand, before glaring straight at Ethan with its hateful orbs. There was no more escaping this creature by abusing its blindness, nor was there a chance to outrun this bounding goliath. Considering how easily it dispatched a dozen molded, Ethan did not like his odds in an open confrontation, either…

The creature made a single step forward. It was no longer in a hurry, apparently confident in its ability to dismember its prey at its leisure.

Ethan stood his ground, a grim look of resolve frozen on his face. The horror-inducing aura of this unnatural creature washed over and around Ethan, but the man found an unexpected font of strength in the realization that the chase was over. The primordial fear of this accursed thing remained, yet it was tempered by an instinct no less ancient - that of cornered animal, determined not to go down gently into the night.

Suddenly, an unexpected weight appeared almost as if out of nowhere in the pocket of his pants - the same pocket which held all three gems - the gifts from Daniela, Cassandra and Bela. Overcome by an inexplicable feeling of salvation, Ethan’s hand reached for his pocket seemingly on its own volition, but before he could find out what exactly was weighing him down, a slim hand of the girl in a red dress intercepted his own, stopping it dead in its tracks. Her fingers were ice-cold, yet Ethan found himself not repulsed by her touch. Somehow, it radiated solace, instead.

The girl was back, and Ethan was not the only one happy to see her. Seemingly forgetting all about Ethan, the Creep let out a high-pitched shriek of indeterminable meaning, while craning its head and focusing its bloodshot gaze completely on the tiny girl.

A sudden thought flashed across Ethan’s mind as he beheld the peculiar sight. It was never after me…

The girl, satisfied that Ethan was no longer reaching into his pocket, took a step forward while breaking the physical contact. The beast's bloodshot eyes followed her every motion unerringly. Ethan was certain that were he to break into a sprint right now, the monster wouldn’t care whatsoever. He didn’t bother testing the theory, however, and instead watched the peculiar scene unfolding.

The monster made another step forward, crushing a dozen crystals underfoot. The girl mirrored the motion, though her shaky frame betrayed her fright at the prospect of facing the monstrosity. Her tiny body appeared hopelessly outmatched against her gigantic adversary. Ethan had no idea how she expected to best this implacable juggernaut.

Without any warning, the Creep burst into a bounding dash, claws outstretched to grab at the girl. Ethan could only stare, terrified, as its razor-sharp talons pierced through her tender flesh with ease, painting the crystals underneath dark red. It seemed like the struggle ended before it even began…

Clearly exhilarated about finally spilling some blood, the creature let out what sounded like a victorious shriek, before opening its horrid maw wide, probably intent on consuming its victim alive.

“Hah…”

The half moan of pain, half mirthless chuckle left the girl’s lips and Ethan realized that it was the first time he heard her voice. The short-lived gasp somehow was able to convey a lifetime of suffering, forcing Ethan to take a step back from the intense sensation of raw despair emanating from the girl. It was almost beyond what he could bear.

Gazing down from the monster’s horrifying maw towards his victim, Ethan was shocked to see not the girl in a red dress, but a naked bone-thin woman, with her long locks of black hair obscuring her face completely. The horrific gashes the monster’s talons had inflicted upon her malnourished body were bleeding freely, yet she didn’t appear to be overly bothered by them. Instead, the woman reached one dainty hand towards the Creep’s chest, likely right atop its heart.

The moment her fingers brushed against its skin, the monster let out a new sound, one which Ethan hadn't heard before. It was a clicking hiss, made in a low tone… it almost sounded like a noise of distress to Ethan - if that creature was even capable of experiencing such a feeling.

Yet clearly it was, for the creature now struggled to free itself from the comparatively tiny woman - who in turn wrapped her arms tightly around its midsection, determined to not let go.

No matter how much it shrieked and roared, she held on. No matter how much it tried to shake her off, she held on. No matter what kind of grisly injuries it inflicted upon the poor woman, she held on.

Ethan couldn’t help but be astounded at the strange woman’s resilience and determination. Even as her own body was sheared in half by a swing of its talons, she did not let go of the monster that stalked her across time and space. 

Instead, she started to exude a whitish glow that engulfed her whole remaining frame and seemed to increase in intensity with each passing moment. The Creep appeared to be desperate to rid itself of her, yet for all its unholy power, it was unable to dislodge its would-be victim, no matter how much it thrashed around.

The air around the entangled duo seemed to boil with unconstrained energy. The creature crashed itself on the ground and rolled in animalistic fury. But even as thousands of razor-sharp crystals ravaged her petite frame, the woman held on. The glow she radiated spread to engulf both herself and the creature she was attached to. It was bright enough that Ethan struggled to keep his eyes on it. The heatwave that now reached even him made it hard to breathe, but the aura of pain and enfeeblement the Creep radiated shrunk by the moment. It was an alpha-predator of this little world no longer.

Frenzied with fear, the Creep made one last desperate shriek that shook the very foundation of this dimension. The moldy imitation of trees nearby collapsed, their blackish trunks smashing into the crystal-littered ground, producing a truly deafening cacophony as the shattered fragments flew in every direction. The illumination created by the entangled duo was blinding to the point where Ethan had no choice but to turn his gaze. It was pure chaos.

Suddenly, like it all started, it simply ended. The searing heat and the blinding light ceased in an instant, while the ruined trees and the shattered crystals quickly settled on the ground. Peering at the sight of their last stand, Ethan was shocked to discover that the duo had simply vanished, with nothing but a scorched crater to mark the location of their mythic fight.

In that moment of eerily silence, Ethan realized that for all he has been through, for all the horror he had witnessed, he was but a speck of dust floating in the endless cosmos. Forces beyond his comprehension pursued their unfathomable goals in the darkest corners of the world and he could only pray that he would not encounter them again.

Still, with the mysterious entities gone, a strange kind of peaceful atmosphere settled upon this desolate realm. 

Taking a tentative step forward, Ethan felt a profound sense of solace. Somehow, suddenly it felt like a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders, a weight he was not even aware he was holding all this time.

The man gazed at his hands and a hopeful gasp left his lips. Swiftly, the translucence that afflicted him in this place started to retreat, giving back the original solidity of his form. Clearly, whatever that Creep creature was, it played an enormous part in subjugating his essence. Its mere presence was leeching his willpower, allowing the mysterious man to claim Ethan’s mind with no contest… but now?

Ethan sensed newfound energy coursing through his frame and even the bleak landscape all around him appeared to sparkle with vitality. After what felt like an eternity of enfeeblement, Ethan finally felt himself strong enough to wrestle control of his own body and mind from that freak.

Before turning around to confront his final foe, however, Ethan did not forget to lightly bow his head, genuinely filled with gratitude towards the strange woman in the guise of a girl. He knew that she did not have to help him. She did not have to guide him all throughout this insane maze. She did not have to put herself in the Creep’s way. She could’ve simply hid in recesses of his mind and let it obliterate Ethan. It didn’t make sense for her to stand in between them, yet she did it… Ethan would not forget this moment, nor her sacrifice.

Finally ready to confront the last obstacle, Ethan turned around and took a step in the oasis’ direction… only to end up right next to it. Somehow, he was able to cross the vast boulevard and enter the forbidden oasis with a single step - he was no longer a mere prisoner of his own mindscape. The gentle sand underneath his shoes was a welcome change after the seemingly endless trek through hardened mold ground and the mad rush through the crystal-paved boulevard.

But most importantly, Ethan’s nemesis and a subjugator of his essence was almost within arm’s length.

The body-snatcher, feeling his presence, left his meditative pose and slowly stood up, while facing Ethan. The expression of disbelief, tinged with no small amount of fear was worth a thousand words to Ethan. Clearly, this man did not expect the true master of this dimension to be able to brave the maze and its guardian to now stand before him.

“What…how is that even possible!?” His voice shaky, the man took a tentative step back. Ethan couldn’t help but allow his lips to shift into a smirk. Finally, the tables have turned.

As he peered upon this man, Ethan found himself learning more about his nemesis, as if he could siphon the information from their eye contact alone. Now that Ethan was unbound, this place truly seemed to have no limitations. The boundaries of self did not exist in this mind-scape that they both shared.

 

Paxton Fettel, that was his name and his history was more bloody that Ethan could even begin to comprehend, even as he tried to take it in.

 

Ethan was regaining control of his own mind, but Fettel was not yet ready to cease it all. Regaining some of his composure, Fettel clenched his fists while his dark eyes roamed all over Ethan’s face, soaking the knowledge of his trek through the maze, just like Ethan himself did with him.

She helped you?! But why?! It doesn’t make any sense!” Fettel started to pace around, clearly in shock from the latest developments.

While Ethan cared not for Fettel’s distress and indeed, only cared about expunging the body-snatcher from his mind, he couldn’t help but wonder, just who this girl was. Clearly, Fettel knew all about her, or at least something about her. The answer to his quarry opened to Ethan in an instant - as if he was simply able to glean all the relevant information directly from his nemesis’s essence.

 

Alma Wade. A Bio-Organic Weapon created before that widespread term was even invented. A being whose very existence was a secret only a select few were privy to. An off-shot of the original Umbrella Corporation’s program, deemed lacking in potential and discarded, only to be bought for a trifling sum by Armacham Technology Corporation - who had then gone to achieve much with what their contemporaries presumed worthless. Too much even.

Able to tap into a realm beyond a mortal’s comprehension, Alma Wade was impossible to contain, much less control and soon after the true scope of her powers became apparent, the ATC board of directors scrapped the project, silenced every witness and entombed every laboratory that was related to it. As for Alma herself, her body was obliterated, and her very essence shattered into a hundred crystallized pieces that were spread apart all over the world. They wanted to bury everything related to her.

But despite their best efforts, her restless soul remained, stalking the forlorn corners of the world, drawn towards the places where the greatest suffering took place, as it resonated with what her entire existence was - one endless stroke of anguish. 

But a generation changed and the fear of the unknown gave way to an opportunity too good to pass. The human greed eventually won over and ATC attempted to salvage the once forbidden project for everything it was worth. Legions of Replica soldiers, connected by the poorly-understood psionic energy were a testament to their hubris, though not quite to a degree as a specimen right in front of him was.

Paxton Fettel, cloned from Alma’s own cells, was designed to be a controllable successor of the failed program. Harshly trained from birth and with an arsenal of limited, yet still formidable psionic powers at his disposal, he was to be their ultimate product. Finally, two fail-saves - a mental and a physical one, ensured that his loyalty to the highest bidder’s cause was to be absolute. When the U.N. Black Ops division purchased his contract, they were assured that his betrayal was a statistical impossibility… and for a long time, that was the case. 

For twelve grueling years, Paxton Fettel did the outwardly noble organization’s dirty laundry. A nearly flawless asset that could hunt down and silence every witness, locate and dispose of any enemy, seek and destroy all opposition - all the while remaining in the shadows. The body count was truly staggering… but not nearly as the fact that it was kept a secret from the whole world.

His defeat at the French safehouse - a first of its kind - made Fettel reassess his path forward. A cunning scheme was hatched in his insidious mind, a scheme that would lead to this blood-soaked day. Before Ethan and the rest even set foot on American soil, Fettel had already secretly enlisted the help of the notorious Bloodfang in preparation for furthering his goals.

Unfortunately for Fettel’s employer and unknowingly to them both, Ethan’s and Eveline’s own efforts at the Empire State Building’s apex floor saw the mental fail-safe corrupted, while Mia took care of the physical one. Paxton Fettel was free to then proceed to immediately murder his hapless employer and her circle of closest underlings. 

But even his first taste of blood as a free man was just a prelude to Fettel’s plan to rampage across the world he hated with every fiber of his being, and were he to gain Rose’s power over the mold, none would be able to stop him as he worked on collecting the shards of his ‘mother’ - only to plunge the world into an age of darkness and death once he was done - a fate it deserved .

 

EVERYTHING MUST BURN

 

The vision of boundless destruction and immeasurable hatred was so vivid, so powerful, that Ethan was unable to stand his ground. The whole depravity of Fettel’s unspeakably cruel upbringing, combined with his overpowering desire to see this world burn washed over Ethan’s mind, threatening to drive him insane with madness that has already consumed one of them. The sheer intensity of memories made Ethan consider if this world was even worth saving, if any of them was worth saving. Perhaps he should simply give up and let the so-called villain fulfill his goal. Just let everything burn, with his body - reunited with his child’s power, as an avatar of ultimate destruction.

The insanity of it all was overwhelming and Ethan was that close to simply closing his eyes and letting the madness wash all over him, drowning him completely. 

The darkness was nearly all-encompassing, yet several beacons still shined in the distance, and none was brighter than that of Rose. How could he possibly let his precious child be consumed by the other man’s vengeance? Even if she survived the process of having her powers drained from her, how could he leave her in a world of ruin? Beyond everything else, his duty as a father demanded of him to leave the world a brighter place for those he loved, not to plunge it into eternal darkness.

And that’s all it took. The light from those he cared about - Rose, Bela, Cassandra, Daniela, Chris and even Mia, as well as many others he called his friends and family - shone bright, dispelling the darkness of the all-encompassing madness of destruction.

Standing up, Ethan once again faced his foe, who in turn looked like having recovered from his initial shock, as well. “For the life of me I cannot fathom why she would help you , Mr. Winters… but it changes nothing.”

Ethan wanted to make a somewhat cliche quip about evil being unable to comprehend good, but with a wave of his hand, Fettel has once again blurred the edges of reality while trying to sent Ethan miles away from the oasis - all the way back to the start of that accursed maze.

I didn’t work this time.

His perilous yet enlightening journey through the maze allowed Ethan to reclaim pieces of himself, while finding plenty of reason to keep going. That burning desire to succeed for the sake of his loved ones was amplified and empowered and now  acts like an anchor to ground him - right here, right now, right next to the final monster that threatened everything he cared about. There were no cracks in Ethan’s resolve that Fettel could exploit this time.

It was Ethan’s turn and the father’s fist was on a curved trajectory right towards the invader’s face.

To Ethan’s chagrin, Fettel had no trouble in intercepting the fist with an open palm of his own. In that same moment, Fettel’s own strike was caught by Ethan’s left palm.

A shockwave of force - a manifestation of their opposing wills - erupted underneath them, rippling outwards far into the distance, as the unstoppable force met an immovable object. None gave way. Ethan’s unyielding determination to protect his loved ones was evenly matched by Paxton’s insane resolve to see it all burn. Like an untreated ulcer, that unbridled hatred festered for decades and no positive emotion - no matter how bright, could hope to overpower it.

Their will evenly matched, neither opponent appeared particularly satisfied with such a stalemate; though it was Ethan that was particularly struck by the implication that he was unable to overpower his foe even after reclaiming a portion of control.

From glimpsing at his mind, Ethan knew that Eveline managed to banish Fettel from Anna’s body by using the fact that his own body was thousands of miles away. Now, with the demise of his body, the entirety of Fettel essence found refuge in Ethan’s mind and therefore, it would not be quite as easy to get rid of this parasite this time. Fettel would cling to him with everything he had, for the alternative was to embrace oblivion.

Chuckling at Ethan’s realization, Fettel gave him a cruel smirk before mouthing the obvious,  “You see the conundrum, Mr. Winters? Neither of us can easily dispatch the other by ourselves… but…” Fettel grinned wide, making unease grip Ethan's heart, “I’ve been doing this a long time… I know all the tricks there are when it comes to subduing unruly hosts.” Not letting Ethan to process his words, Fettel suddenly broke their stalemate by momentarily vanishing from sight, only to appear right behind Ethan, with but a single finger pressed to the back of his head - right where the brain met the spinal cord.

Abruptly all the energy left Ethan’s limbs, while a powerful spike of pain found itself wedged into his brain. It's like the Creep was back, standing right behind him. Somehow Fettel was able to replicate the trick behind that supernatural entity’s enfeeblement powers.

Letting out a guffaw of pain, Ethan once again found himself collapsing on his knees, simply unable to resist the malefic influence. Fettel was right, even though Ethan managed to regain a portion of control, he did not have decades of experience when it came to invading other peoples’ mind and breaking their resistance. Fettel did.

Completely unable to do anything but weakly gasp for air, Ethan had to limit himself to glaring at the invader, who flashed a victorious smirk as he casually strolled past the kneeling father. In the end, all of Ethan’s resolve and determination amounted to little more than shaky limbs that only barely still obeyed his commands.

Considering the matter solved, Fettel turned his attention back towards the crystal-clear pond, while letting out gloating that made Ethan grit his teeth in silent frustration.

“Soon little Rosemary will finally be within our grasp. Perhaps I should let you witness our lovely reunion? A father and daughter, going through hell and back to find their way to each other. Isn’t that just the loveliest picture?” The bile all but seeped from his words, like a mix of jealousy and hatred.

The crystal pond flickered and in its mirror-like Ethan could see a blank room with a locked door. Gazing into the pond, Ethan knew that it would be a bad thing were that door opened.

For several tense minutes nothing seemed to happen, making Ethan almost forget about the static image in the pond and refocusing his efforts on freeing himself. Unfortunately, he had to cut them short, as the door finally opened, allowing Ethan to glimpse a familiar face.

It was Chris Redfield who entered the room in the mirror, a genuine smile of a loyal comrade and a true friend on his scarred face. His lips moved, and even though the words itself were lost on Ethan, it was clear to him that the captain was conveying a particularly happy piece of news. After a few moments of silent dialogue with an unseen partner, Chris delivered a hearty pat on the shoulder of the person on the other side of the mirror, before taking a step back and motioning for that person to follow. Ethan dreaded like never before where the captain was taking them.

Ethan fought against his restraints of agony and exhaustion with everything he had, yet to no avail. He could do nothing as the corridor in the mirror ended up with another door, which Chris motioned towards. The hand of a person from the mirror - Ethan’s own, he had no trouble recognizing - took hold of the handle, revealing a small, moderately furnished room with but a single occupant, sitting on a simple bed that was far too big for her.

Rose.

Turning around, the Ethan-in-the-mirror presumably bid Chris a farewell, before abruptly closing the door in his face and once again reorienting himself to face the child.

In turn, Rose appeared elated to witnessing her beloved daddy, utterly unaware of any potential threat as she rushed to embrace him.

“Rose, no! Stay away!” Ethan’s plea fell upon deaf ears, as Ethan-in-the-mirror gleefully picked the child up, ruffled her unruly hair, before placing her on the bed and kneeling in front of her.

“This is it, Mr. Winters. The moment of truth.” Fettel’s words sent fear like he had never felt before running down Ethan’s spine. An utter, all consuming-terror, that made the desperate man rapidly consider every possible course of action he could still take. 

Ironically, it was Fettel’s own words that ignited a spark of hope in Ethan’s frenetic heart as he ran through the possibilities left to him. ‘ Neither of us can easily dispatch the other by ourselves…’

Perhaps nobody was left at Fettel’s side, but Ethan wasn’t alone. Somehow, against all odds and contrary to every conceivable law of nature, Bela, Cassandra and Daniela were with him at this very moment - if not in body, than in spirit. All he had to do was reach out for them.

Grunting from sheer agony of his crippled condition, Ethan put his entire being in the act of grotesque effort - edging his limb towards his pant pocket and the three precious gems in it. Perhaps it was not a coincidence that Alma stopped him from reaching towards them during their confrontation with the Creep. Could it be that she was aware of the potential power contained within? Perhaps she wanted him to save them for Fettel.

Though it hurt him beyond words to do so, Ethan managed to put his hand into the pocket and, grasping for whatever was inside, procure an item that felt remarkably not like a trio of gems should.

It was with nothing but wonder Ethan stared at the relatively small item which was now grasped by his trembling fingers - which were bone-white from the colossal effort. Instead of three gems, Ethan found himself with something far more practical for the current situation. An old German pistol, Luger P08 - if his memory of such antiques was to be believed. While the pistol’s miraculous appearance, as well as the significance of its model were beyond his comprehension, its purpose was not.

Perhaps feeling the emergent threat, Fettel swirled around, temporarily forgetting about Rose. Just in time for Ethan to draw a bead at his still-bleeding forehead.

Fettel’s arrogance and self-assurance was swept away in an instant as his keen eyes focused on the barrel that was now pointing right at his forehead. Utter confusion and mortal fear now dominated his beady eyes. For a man who hated the world as much as he did, Fettel sure wasn’t looking forward to bidding it one final farewell. His tongue anxiously wetted his chapped lips, “Perhaps… we could make a deal?”

Ethan almost laughed at how pathetic this fearsome foe appeared to be when finally faced with his own mortality, though Ethan would lie if he claimed that he felt no pity whatsoever even for this vile man. For all his countless atrocities and numberless crimes, even Paxton Fettel was a mere product of human cruelty and greed. Perhaps even he was not beyond redemption.

Nevertheless, it took truly a lot to finally outplay Fettel and shatter his schemes and Ethan was not going to let it all go to waste by letting his forgiving nature take reigns in this situation. Not this time. Not when the stakes were this high. Not when his act of kindness could cost them everything.

“Go to hell.” Paxton’s eyes widened in fear but it was far too late to do anything.

The Luger barked out and an ethereal shot carved an unerring path through the air towards its destination. It struck Fettel exactly where Ethan was aiming for and the result was instantaneous. 

 

As if he was a mere glass figure all along, Paxton Fettel shattered into a million pieces that faded into nothingness as soon as they touched the sand beneath them. 

 

Likewise, the pistol that embodied the three sisters, having served its purpose, dissipated into dust that gently joined the sand under it. Unlike the shards of his nemesis, these multicolored dust particles did not fade away.

And just like that, the end of the most fearsome of foes Ethan ever encountered had come. In a way it was ironic, that even though Paxton occupied his spot in the shadows behind the people who had started all this mess, eventually he had come to eclipse them all in the threat he posed - not just to Ethan and his friends, but even to humanity at large.

A moment of tranquility fell upon this dark realm, though it did not last. Fettel’s final demise shattered the pond’s mirror-like surface and Ethan sensed a powerful force tugging at his essence, while blurring the surrounding dimension. It seemed like he was finally free to leave the prison of his own mind - not as a slave, but as its sole master, as it should be.

 

Reality beckoned him once more. After the unspeakable madness and horror he had witnessed in this mental hell of his, Ethan Winters was only too eager to embrace the call. He had seen enough nightmares to last him a lifetime; it was finally time to wake up.

Notes:

Well, I did warn you that this was going to be weird :P

Believe it or not, I actually wrote 90% of this chapter in 2 days (6 hours writing per day - I was really inspired for this one :D), but... once again, the editing part got lost somewhere in between me visiting doctors (finally got that shitty wisdom tooth removed, yay!), assembling a new PC for myself and helping the relatives with their new house.

Anyway, this chapter was meant to be a climax of Ethan's story, with him prevailing over the big bad only due to the precious connections he had made along the way. It concludes (Finally!) the Bound by Sins of the Past storyline, though, like I promised, there still will be a multi-chapter epilogue that will have some wholesome stuff (and maybe a little more smut) :)

As always, any kind of feedback is appreciated and I'll be glad to answer any questions you might have. Thanks for reading and have a great weekend!

Chapter 48: Awakening to a New World

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The world came into focus slowly, with Ethan having to expend an effort to be able to see his surroundings as something more than a blurry mess. It almost felt like he had grown unused of his own two eyes.

But just as surely as night gives way to a new day, so did the darkness eventually retreat from Ethan’s sight, allowing him to take in the clinical-white walls of the small, sparsely decorated room he has found himself in.

Of course, the father couldn't care less about the color of this modest room’s walls or the state of its decorations, not when the object of so much of his love and worry was right there in front of him.

Blinking his eyes furiously as if to make sure that this was neither a wishful dream nor a cruel illusion, Ethan couldn’t help but let out the name of the one most precious to him.

“Rose…?”

Rose had visible signs of exhaustion plain on her face and Ethan’s keen eyes could easily catch glimpses of dark red scratches on the exposed skin of her legs and arms; but otherwise the poor child appeared to be both healthy and even somewhat lively.

Blinking her own large eyes in turn, the girl craned her head to the side, appearing confused at the seemingly disoriented state of her father.

“Daddy..? Are you okay?”

The melodic sound of her voice - the most cherished sound in existence, as far as Ethan was concerned, was enough to finally ground Ethan back to reality. After getting through seemingly endless layers of nightmare that were the last several months, it was a real struggle to simply dare to hope that it was all over, that they were finally safe. He could only pray that this sweet hope would not turn into bitter disappointment if another threat would rear its ugly head to try and tear his family apart yet again. 

Gazing into Rose’s expressive orbs, filled with worry and affection for her father, Ethan found all the affirmation that he needed that his herculean effort was not in vain.

“Rosie…” Just one muttered word, yet Ethan managed to put all of his endless parental love and dedication into it.

In turn, Rose likely tried to reply once again, yet the father would not give her the chance, as he hurried to engulf her into a loving hug of a despairing parent.“Mhph!” Like a photophobic insect exposed to the blinding light of the sun, that feeling of despair scurried off into the deepest and darkest hole it could find, allowing pure hope to bloom in its way.

Tears of genuine joy trickled down Ethan’s face as he held on to his child for dear life. Tenderly rubbing Rose’s back made the girl fully relax in her father’s loving embrace, though she was likely unaware that the act brought even more comfort to Ethan himself. After his horrifying adventure through the depths of his own twisted mind, the line between reality and phantasma was far too blurry for Ethan’s comfort. Even a minor physical contact brought an immense amount of solace to his weary soul as it served akin to an anchor to reality, not even mentioning the obvious - the respite a parent feels when reuniting with a long-lost child; it might not have been even a full day they were separate, but it sure felt like an eternity to Ethan.

“Everything’s okay now…” Ethan was not sure if the empty platitude he spouted was directed more at Rose or himself. For the truth is, after everything he has gone through, he would not dare to declare themselves safe. Was the current crisis truly over - and even if it was, was the next one just around the corner? Perhaps it was a laughable notion that he, an adult man, needed reassurance just as much - if not even more - than his baby daughter, who was not even a three-year old yet.

It did not appear that way to Rose herself, however, as the keen girl took in her father’s emotive features, “You’re okay, daddy… I am so glad…”

Worried as he was about Rose, Ethan was momentarily stunned at the outpouring of vocalized worry towards himself. Naturally, the poor child was just as worried about her father - despite her tender age, she has already developed a remarkable level of empathy, something that not every adult would reach even. Knowing about that particular trait of Rose well, Ethan let out a subdued chuckle before placing a gentle kiss upon her tiny forehead.

“Of course I am okay, sweetpea.” Leaning back a bit to gaze into her large eyes, Ethan could barely contain the joy he was feeling at this reunion. “How could I not be, when I see you safe and sound, my precious little angel…” the gently whispered words were barely audible, making Rose perk her ears in a bid to catch them. A beautiful smile, blooming on her tiny face, implied that the girl managed to do so.

In this moment, there was nothing as beautiful to Ethan as that little smile. Beyond the obvious joy of sharing happiness with your loved one, it served as a justification for all the horror and bloodshed he waded through, as well a validation of his duty as a father.

 

It was all worth it, in the end.

 

Unable to help himself, the father engulfed the tiny shape of his daughter into a hug once again. The girl did not protest the motion and her small hands did their best in wrapping around his own torso.

After his struggles in both the material realm and his own mindscape, Ethan was somewhat wary about potential threats lurking around in every shadow, yet recalling that it was Chris who had unknowingly led his, back then possessed, body towards this room, Ethan could only assume that they were at least somewhat safe here. That feeling of safety was a flickering one, yet for the moment it was enough as he held onto one most dear to him.

If time just stopped in this moment of raw affection that is possible only between a loving parent and their cherished offspring, Ethan would’ve been just fine with it. 

Nevertheless, the river of time flows ever forward and soon their moment of tranquility was interrupted by a question Ethan dreaded.

“Will mommy be back?”

Ethan wetted his coarse lips as his mind pondered on how to properly answer the query. Rose, however, was not done and it was her voice that broke the silence next.

“She said that she is sorry and that she loves us. Can’t you forgive her, daddy?”

Ethan immediately wanted to quip with the obvious that things were just not that simple, but the worrying implication was quick to overshadow it, “Mia said that to you? When?” 

While Ethan was certain that Mia would be the last person to try and harm Rose, he was not quite free of the fear that the scorned mother would take the girl with her into the night; neither to be seen again. The implication that Mia somehow got into contact with Rose therefore sent a spike of anxiety down Ethan’s spine.

In turn, Rose craned her neck as she peered at Ethan with a curious expression on her face - as if Ethan was asking something very obvious. It likely was; Ethan quickly realized that his misadventures in his own mindscape probably occurred concurrently with the passage of time in the real world. He was likely missing out a chunk of what exactly happened in between him succumbing to Fettel mind-control and their current situation.

Slowly standing up from his kneeling position, the father took a moment to glance around the small room, though to his chagrin, there was no clock that could help him regain his bearing. Meanwhile, Rose - naturally not understanding Ethan’s predicament, continued on with her previous thought, “She hugged me and told me that she loves me…she said that she understood why you were mad at her and that she is sorry…”

Ethan said nothing, for he had nothing to say at the moment, instead simply gazing out the lone window. The night was almost pitch-black, with only the distant lights of the buildings somewhere far away providing some illumination, allowing Ethan to glimpse the rough outlines of dark clouds looming overhead. The torrent of water outside the window made the sight redundant, however, as the ceaseless pitter-patter of rain against the glass told Ethan all he needed to know about the conditions outside. It only added to his contemplative mood.

Ethan was not sure that the gaping rift between Mia and himself could be mended with regret alone, even if it was a good start. 

On more than one occasion, Mia has chosen not to trust him. Not once during their lengthy relationship did she mention anything that could so much as a hint at her nefarious connections. Even after their wedding, she carefully concealed her background and true occupation. To top it off, it was still not enough for Ethan to have gone through hell and back in Louisiana to rescue Mia - even then she failed to reveal the full truth to him, only letting out a couple of non-incriminating snippets. As if that all was not enough, when the Connections came back for her in London, Mia still kept her secrets, culminating in her fading into the night with nary a goodbye.

But even if he was somehow able to disregard the enormous web of deceit she has weaved over the years - the endless lies she had spoon fed them both, Ethan was dubious that he could get over one particular trait his dear wife had come to possess.

That extraordinary ruthlessness that bordered on misanthropy - a quality Mia had festering in her for a long time. As a father who went to great lengths to ensure the safety of his child, Ethan could somewhat relate to Mia’s extreme measures, taken to protect Rose. He could understand that desire to protect their progeny - but he was not sure if he would have been able to willingly submit to such evil for the fleeting promises of safety.

From glimpsing the surface memory of Fettel, as well as from Chris’ summaries of their activities, Ethan now knew more about the Connections than he ever cared to. While they had no supervillain-esque goals of shaping the world in their image like the late Albert Wesker had, they made it their business to ensure that death and misery reached every little corner of it, nevertheless. Developing and peddling unfathomable bio-terrors, they didn’t care who got hurt as they gleefully armed petty tyrants and terrorist organizations - as long as their profit margins kept increasing. The Connections was an international organization made almost entirely of depraved businessmen, their morally-bankrupt lackeys and unwitting pawns; a moral myopia on a scale too horrible to contemplate… and Mia - as Ethan only recently came to realize - fit only too well there.

Far from being a mere associate employee, an unwitting caretaker to Eveline like she had told him, Mia Winters had taken a much direct role in research and development that would see innocent children turned into Bio-Organic Weapons, to be sold to the highest bidder - only to be then set loose to wreak havoc on their enemies - and all the innocent bystanders in the way. The whole scheme was unspeakably callous, making Ethan sick just from thinking about it.

For several tense moments, Ethan was lost in his inner turmoil as he contemplated his long relationship with Mia and her behind-the-scenes activities. A powerful lightning bolt sheared the dark sky in half, momentarily providing the illumination for the surrounding area. A fearsome thunder roar followed soon after. 

A tiny hand clutched at his own, allowing Ethan to recall that Rose was frightened of such untamed displays of nature’s wrath - much like he himself was at her age. In a way it was funny, for they lived in a world where being eaten by a half-dead zombie or falling prey to a rampaging bio-weapon was a likelier scenario than being struck by an uncaring bolt of lightning, but Ethan was not the kind of father who made light of their child’s fears.

“It’s alright, honey, I am here.” Even as the gentle words left his mouth, Ethan’s hands worked at bringing the small girl up to hold her close to his own heart.

“Do you think mommy is alright..?” Rose’s faint words did not fail to tag at Ethan’s heartstrings, just like her unerring gaze out into the darkness of the night. Mia was somewhere out there, and against his better judgment, Ethan found himself genuinely hoping that she was alright.

“I am sure she is, love.” 

Despite the calamitous breakdown of their relationship that culminated in Mia quite literally trying to kill Ethan, the man himself was still eminently grateful to his wife. Not for her atrocious crimes, her endless lies or the attempt at his life, of course, but for the many years of blissful relationships they had had together. Ethan was grateful for the baby girl that was the culmination of the love they felt towards each other, once upon a time - there was no doubt in his mind that that love was genuine on both ends. Perhaps it could not overshadow the evil she caused, but Ethan was not so swift to dismiss the good, either. In a way, he envied Rose, who in her childlike innocence could not hope to fully grasp the scale of tragedy Mia helped to cause.

For Rose, Mia was her beloved mother, and everything else was secondary. As if to prove that point, the girl lightly tugged at Ethan’s shirt collar to attract his attention, before letting out a meek plea, “Do you think you could forgive mommy..?” Ethan’s first instinct was to dismiss it as an impossibility, for no matter how happy they have been together, there was just no future in which they could reconnect. “...for me, daddy?” Rose seemingly knew exactly what to say to melt Ethan’s hardened heart. He could not simply refute such a heartfelt plea, even if he could not outright agree to it.

Ethan gulped as he gazed into his child’s large eyes, “...I’ll try, Rosie…” Before he even let the name out, Ethan realized that it was more than an empty platitude, it was a genuine wish. They might not ever get together again, but Ethan had no desire to spend the rest of his life hating someone who was so integral for such a large part of it. More than that even, Ethan wondered if he would be truly able to avoid making Mia’s mistakes, were he placed in her position; he wondered whether he could have done more as a boyfriend and a husband. 

Perhaps her downfall was a gradual process that he could’ve had a hand in. Perhaps, early in their relationship, she was desperate for a hand to help pull her out, but he was just too damn blind to notice anything wrong. With another gulp to reflect his inner turmoil, Ethan realized that there were hints all over their lengthy relationship as he peered into the past. A little inconsistency here and there, flimsy excuses for missed dates, poorly-explained week-long disappearances; all signs that he could’ve chosen to investigate. Maybe, if he had just dug a little deeper back then, everything could’ve gone differently… How large a part his negligence and willful ignorance played in the way things unfolded - the chaos in Louisiana, the mayhem in Romania, the cat-and-mouse game of the last months - could it all have been avoided, if only he had only done something back then..?

Before he could fully descend down the endless spiral of depression such thoughts summoned forth, a simple but happy smile from Rose, directed his way, made Ethan discard his dark musings. Giving the child a smile in turn, Ethan realized that there was no sense in dwelling in the past and would-have-beens. He could not go back in the past and change anything, he could only go forward. Moreover, nobody could guarantee that if he had chosen to dig deeper back then, things would’ve changed for the better. Who knows, perhaps he would’ve been unceremoniously murdered and his corpse dumped into the river and that would’ve been the end of Ethan Winters.

Finally, looking back, Ethan couldn’t claim that things were ever only just bleak. True, it has been a perilous and twisted path he had walked, but he could not dismiss the many unexpected friendships he had forged along the way.

After all, if he had not gone to Romania, he would not have encountered Bela… the very notion sent an unpleasant tingle down his spine, as well as a gulp down his throat. But even beyond that beautiful connection he had managed to establish with the blonde Romanian vampire, Ethan could not forget to note the other peculiar acquaintances he had met along the way.

Cruel and aloof outside, but surprisingly caring and full of life Cassandra.

Kind-hearted and mischievous Daniela; fearsome when in the grips of her uncontrollable rage. 

Naturally, he could not forget their mother - a formidable countess that had once stood against him, yet now Ethan was certain that Alcina of today would not hesitate to place herself between his Rose and any threat that might seek to imperil her.

It would be amiss to fail to note one Karl Heisenberg, of course. The eccentric lord of metal turned out to be a stalwart and reliable ally, as well as a knowledgeable and amusing conversation partner who could liven up any bleak situation with his bombastic speeches.

Of course, Chris Redfield was a staunch friend who did not hesitate to lend Ethan a hand when he needed it most, even though there was really nothing in it for him. Of all the people he had met, Ethan probably admired the B.S.A.A. Captain the most. To dedicate oneself to protection of one’s family was a respectable decision, but hardly something truly out of the ordinary; Chris’ dedication to protecting those who could not fight back themselves truly broke any and all bounds an average person would be able to reach. Chris sacrificed his personal life and happiness in his fight against bioterrorism, even though he could have retired long ago, leaving someone else to fight the good fight. Truly, in Ethan’s eyes, Chris’ undying commitment to the cause was nearly as supernatural as mold-based powers or telepathic abilities he had the misfortune to come across.

But even beyond these bright personalities, there were so many others who had lent Ethan a hand during his long journey. Enigmatic yet helpful Duke, as well as his two lieutenants: reliable Millie and easy going Tom. Without their aid, neither Winters nor Dimitrescus would’ve ever been able to leave their compromised residences and reconnect.

The Hound Wolf Squad members, who followed their captain into the jaws of hell itself in a bid to aid Ethan - and three of them paid for it with their lives: Charlie Graham, Emily Berkhoff and John Perlman all made the ultimate sacrifice to make the world a better place.

Just like the many others, Leon Kennedy and Jill Valentine have also proven their selfless natures and vast combat experience during the showdown in the French safehouse. Ethan had no illusions about their chances of survival in that massacre without these two’s help.

Finally, there was one name that caused bittersweet feelings to swell in Ethan’s chest. Joy of a father who had gained an unexpected yet beloved child… and the despair of a parent who had lost his offspring. 

Eveline .

Unable to help himself as powerful feelings washed over him, Ethan placed his free hand over his heart - no sooner than he did so, Rose’s tiny hand gently laid itself over his. Sharing a sorrowful look with his darling baby girl, Ethan understood that even without any words exchanged, the keen child knew that his current misery was caused by Eveline’s painful absence. 

From a bitter enemy, Eveline came to be a daughter-like figure to Ethan, but her connection with Rose was even stronger, for Eveline revealed herself to Rose from the very start of her ongoing formative age. For all intents and purposes and despite her immaterial state, Eveline was Rose’s sister in the latter’s eyes… and perhaps the former’s as well.

And now Eveline was gone, leaving behind only a void that ached terribly in both Ethan’s and Rose’s souls.

“Evie is gone…” Rose’s feeble voice did not fail to convey her sorrow, though Ethan did not get a sense of finality he was expecting from it. Recalling his encounter with Eveline’s empty shell in his mindscape, the father was not going to lie to his child just to avoid the emotional damage of their predicament.

“Yeah…”

Gazing into his gray eyes, Rose’s own light green ones flickered with a look Ethan knew too well - that fierce defiance against fate he has seen more than once in this long journey of theirs. With firmness that brooked no argument, Rose let out a sentence which both surprised Ethan as well as radiated enough hope to finally make him believe that everything was going to turn out alright, in the end.

“... she will be back one day, daddy. And when she does, we will both tell her how much we love her, right?!”

The girl appeared nearly frenetic in this moment and Ethan found her unbridled joy to be infectious. Letting out a gentle chuckle, the father ruffled the girl’s messy hair while lovingly gazing into her wide open eyes, “That’s right honey. That’s absolutely right.”

Hearing his acceptance of her plan, Rose gave a swift but resolute nod before turning her tiny head to gaze into the stormy night, while mouthing one more statement that would sound more like a delusional plea, if not for all the fierce passion of her tone.

“That’s right! So come back soon, Evie!”

Ethan gazed down upon his beloved child with nothing but pride and joy. Even after so many challenges and losses the Winters family had suffered through, Rose still radiated pure hope. He couldn’t help but wonder what it is that helped her get through it seemingly unscathed. 

The horror she had been through would’ve been enough to break many adults he had known, but this tiny girl - not even three of age - managed to persevere in the face of evil and depravity that threatened to engulf her. Was it merely her immature mind helping get wade through the filth of their world, or was it the unyielding inner strength that has already bloomed despite her tender age? Or… perhaps it was Eveline who subtly prepared Rose for the potential horrors ahead, even before he had learnt about her continued existence? 

Such thoughts made Ethan follow Rose’s gaze out the window and even though he still felt the deepest of sorrows at Eveline’s fate, somehow he was unable to resist the suddenly good mood that was evoked by the radiant joy that was the little girl he still held close to his chest. His Rose, for who he braved through hell and back… multiple times . And if the cruel fate willed it, he would do so again with no hesitation.

For several minutes, Ethan and Rose simply stared into the closed window and the larger world out there, content in their position. Both of them knew that things could’ve been better, but both of them knew that things could also have been much, much worse. But most importantly, now that they were finally reunited again, both of them could not help but hope for a brighter tomorrow. For a future free of grief and misery, a future where they could freely love and be loved in turn.

Perhaps even nature itself shared Ethan’s and Rose’s optimism.

Steadily, the staggering downpour out there slowed down to a more manageable drizzle, increasing visibility significantly. Accompanying the fading rain, the impenetrable black clouds in the distance parted slightly, allowing the duo to experience one of the most beautiful and uplifting of natural phenomena - that of a summer sunrise.

Far in the distance, the rays of the warm sun reached out from just beyond the horizon. Akin to primeval hunter-gatherers who had just received Prometheus’ blessing of fire and sought to best the deadly predators that challenged humanity’s very existence, these rays of light pierced through the darkness and gloom of the overcast sky. 

As he stared upon the unbound beauty of his world, Ethan felt breath being caught in his throat for a second. Like a radiant halo, the first glimpse of the life-sustaining sphere itself became visible to his wide-open eyes. Majestic by its very nature, the golden brilliance of the star was made all the more stunning by the parting dark clouds it shined through. Like a spear of light, it carved its way through the heavens and neither the dark void of cosmos nor the shrouded atmosphere could hope to stop it.

Ethan could not even begin to imagine just how many people throughout history found the inspiration or the strength to go on from this majestic sight, but he was proud to be counted among their numbers. Like nothing else, this was hope itself made manifest; a sign that sometimes all it takes to dispel the deepest darkness is but a single source of light.

“It’s so pretty…”

Rose’s innocence and childlike wonder were reflected in her voice and despite his mature, and at times cynical outlook on life, Ethan could share in it fully.

“Yeah…”

The glorious break of dawn before his eyes and his beloved daughter secured in his arms combined proved too much for Ethan’s jaded outlook on life. His bleak attitude was a natural product of a seemingly unending chain of strife and it served the purpose of a shell that kept him alert while protecting him from disappointment that so frequently wore the guise of hope. It could not withstand the radiant joy of this exceptional moment, and for the first time in a long while, Ethan allowed himself to feel hope untainted by fear of uncertainty.

It felt good to let go of the many burdens that were heaped upon his weary shoulders.

Beyond providing an endless source of solace, however, the break of dawn also helped to indicate the current time. Ethan could recall that it was late evening when Cassandra performed that fateful shot and Fettel took over his body. The following horror of navigating his own mindscape must have taken at least six hours and it was a true miracle that Fettel was unable to cause any irreversible harm in such a timeframe. Of course, such morbid thoughts dissipated into the back of his mind swift enough, letting the joy of the situation take over completely.

To hear the satisfied little hum out of his precious angel; to feel the steady beat of her tiny heart - that was the greatest of rewards Ethan could ever ask for. Or so he thought, before the door to their private room was open with a gentle tug.

Unlike the vast majority of surprises Ethan lived through, this unexpected intrusion was hardly something the father found unpleasant, especially as the familiar melodic voice of a person, also precious to him, rang out, “Ethan! They have finally let you out!”

Turning around to gaze at the owner of the voice, Ethan felt yet another weight being lifted from his weary heart. The knowledge that she is safe and sound was liberating.

“Bela!” Ethan’s eyes widened for a moment as he took in her bruised form. Even though she must have had a change of clothing, complemented by a revitalizing shower, the signs of struggle were unmistakable all over her frame. “You’re alright!” Considering her beat-up the state: the heavily bandaged left shoulder, with some dark red blood still seeping through the cloth; somewhat swollen nose and a black eye - indicative of multiple strikes against her face; a bit of a hunched posture that spoke volumes about the strain of the last day, ‘alright’ was an overstatement. Exhaustion was even more visible in her eyes than it was in Rose’s.

But Bela Dimitrescu was alive and after such a bloodsoaked day it was already a victory. It was enough for Ethan and he felt his lips shifting a joyous smile. Bela’s typically graceful bearing was nowhere to be found and her natural beauty was marred by a dozen cuts and bruises, yet for Ethan there were very few sights more gorgeous than this Romanian vampire who had found herself so very far from home.

Likewise, a beautiful smile bloomed on Bela’s face as she took in the intertwined forms of Ethan and Rose. The stress-induced contours of her face momentarily melted into a loving visage that Ethan could stare at for hours. In this moment of time, it was incredible to Ethan how this brilliant creature, who has gone through so much misery and loss herself, was still capable of radiating such kindness and empathy.

For a couple of seconds, none of those present made a motion or spoke a further word, as all were content in simply gazing at each other. As Ethan must’ve passed Bela’s visual inspection, however, the blonde woman’s own expressive orbs sparkled with joyous mischief.

“As alright as I can be, considering the circumstances.”

Beyond her slightly playful notes Ethan could still discern the hints of relief. It was plain that she was worried for him - just like Rose was - and that made Ethan consider the fact that he must have missed out quite a bit during his detainment in his own mind. Still, despite his rising curiosity, Ethan spoke his next words straight from his heart.

“You don’t know how glad I am to hear that, Bells.”

Another gentle smile was directed his way, followed by a grateful nod. Ethan felt a burning need to envelop Bela in a possessive embrace of affection, but at the same time, he also did not want to let go of Rose.

Before he could decide on his next course of action, Rose herself beat him to it, by letting out a large yawn, before promptly covering her mouth with her tiny hands, as if ashamed. The latter notion appeared ridiculous to both Ethan and Bela and the blonde’s smile morphed into a slight frown as she noted upon it, “Rose has been up all night waiting for them to release you…” Thinking for a second, she added, “We all have been…”

“Ish okay…” mumbled out the girl, clearly embarrassed about her own weariness. It appeared that her exhilaration of being reunited with her father had run dry, paving way for raw exhaustion to take complete hold of her tiny body.

Letting out a light chuckle at Rose’s cute antics and suddenly becoming imminently aware of his own aching muscles and creeping weariness, Ethan was swift to reassure the girl that her current state of sleepiness was more than deserved.

“Get some sleep, sweetpea.” The father’s soft words were followed by him helping Rose get out of her dress and into a tiny nightgown that lay on a nightstand nearby. Respectfully, Bela has averted her eyes as he did so. “Growing girls need their rest.” Everyone needed their rest, but naturally nobody was as important to Ethan as was his own child. 

After getting his baby girl comfortably tucked in and making sure she was snugly and not too hot, Ethan placed another loving kiss upon her forehead. Rose had her weary eyes already closed and it was obvious that sleep beckoned her, but she still mumbled out a goodnight, “night daddy…mommy…”

Ethan couldn’t help but wonder who that last term was directed at, considering those present in the room. Naturally, it was Mia Rose thought of as her mother, yet it was hard not to notice how close Bela and Rose got over the recent months. Likewise, a curious spark flashed in Bela’s amber eyes, implying that a similar thought process commenced in her own bright head. 

Deciding not to dwell too much on that for a moment, Ethan merely let out a loving, “Sweet dreams, honey,” before standing up and making a motion to leave the tidy room.

Leaving her spot at the windowsill, Bela followed the man along, though she did forget to treat the child with a loving glance and a farewell of her own, “Rest well, little one.”

Bela closed the door behind her with that same silent tenderness she had opened it with, determined not to disturb the lone occupant left in the room. Not a second passed after the vampiric daughter turned back towards Ethan as she found herself in a warm embrace that was maybe just a little too tight considering her many acquired cuts and bruises.

“Ah! Ethan!” The woman’s muffled gasp did not prevent her own arms from swiftly coiling around Ethan’s torso. She missed this contact dearly and the minor physical discomfort of her sore body was but a sour note in an ocean of rapture and solace.

Heedless of any risks that might accompany such a close proximity to a vampiric creature, Ethan brought them even closer together, with Bela’s face ending up nuzzling against his delectable neck. On most days, the sensation of living pulse through such a thin cover of skin would’ve played against her worse nature, forcing Bela to resist the allure of fresh man-blood.

Fortunately for the both of them, Bela had no such impulses driving her up against the wall with bloodlust at this moment, even with her lips lightly grazing against the delicate skin of his neck. While the events of the previous evening were horrible beyond words, there was a silver lining in them. Bela felt no shame for feasting upon those who dared to harm her family or friends and so she was still quite satiated for hours to come, allowing her to experience the full joy of this simple human contact, without her cursed cravings getting in the way.

This embrace offered more than a simple feeling of security. As Bela, with her eyes closed in this moment of bliss, reacquainted herself with the scents of the man she had grown to love, she felt loved in turn as she sensed Ethan getting a lungful of her own messy blonde hair. She found herself hoping that he would not be disappointed, as she naturally lacked access to her preferred shampoo and had to settle for the cheap utilitarian analogue that was offered to her during her five minutes of bliss in a hot shower.

The gasp of delight coming from Ethan’s mouth caused the corners of Bela’s lips to raise in a smile. Just like she was satisfied with his unmodified earthly scent, so was he fully content with that of her own. The affection they had for one another transcended the shallow constraints imposed by their preconceptions. Bela had learnt to love the scent of Ethan, and the man in turn found himself in love with that of Bela .

“You don’t even know how much I missed you…” mumbled Ethan while trying to bury his face in her long blonde locks. A small frown momentarily took the place of the smile as Bela considered his statement. The notion of missing someone after a mere day apart did not appear laughable to Bela - she could relate to that sentiment fully - it truly felt like she had to endure an age of his absence. Something else had drawn a modest amount of her ire, however.

It was a little inconsiderate of him to presume that she was not as fiercely desperate for his soothing presence during the chaotic events of yesterday as he likely was of hers.

Taking a step back, Bela felt Ethan’s immediate resistance - he did not want to let her go. Neither did she want to part from her beloved man, but a small lesson was in order, “Don’t I?” 

They still stood close together, with outstretched arms around the other; but not as close as either desired. Bela’s amber eyes connected with Ethan’s delightful mix of gray and green. The confusion in them did not last even a second as his mind swiftly connected the dots and realized the presumptuousness of his last statement. Before he could correct it, however, Bela went on the offensive even as her hands held tightly to his forearms.

“There were very few things I desired as much as you by my side as I made my way across this damn city, Ethan.”

The flash of regret in his expressive eyes signified that this verbal diversion had run its course. While Bela naturally wanted her partner to be considerate of her feelings, she was hardly petty enough to make a real issue out of something like that.

Her forgiveness took the form of a swift and savage kiss as she slammed her lips against his own. Ethan was just as swift to reciprocate, as his needy hands roamed across her back; her own mirroring the gesture. 

The kiss was brutal in its intensity, but it was not mere lust that fueled its passionate synthesis. Instead, both parties to the kiss experienced a burning need to physically feel their significant other, to make sure that they were really here, that they were not going to vanish into thin air.

The fact that it was a conscious longing that was driving the passion behind the kiss instead of an instinctual lust did not make it any less intense.

Only once they both were out of air did they dare to interrupt it.

Gasping more from the sheer delight of the situation than his breathless state, Ethan once again allowed his eyes to roam across Bela’s bruised yet still gorgeous face. She licked her lips at him.

A peculiar thought flashed across his mind, and he was swift in giving voice to it, but not before wetting his own lips in turn, “If we ever take part in a military operation again-”

“Never, ever again…” came Bela’s instant interruption, though a spark of amusement glimpsed in her eyes, “...though, for the sake of curiosity, do continue your thought, Ethan.”

Appearing slightly sheepish, Ethan proceeded to gently rub Bela’s back as he finished his sentence, “...I’ll definitely make sure we are doing it side-by-side.”

Once again, Bela could fully share that notion. She would not go looking for trouble, but if trouble came to their doorstep, she would not want to meet it head-on without the stalwart and reliable presence of Ethan by her side. Not that she would admit it outright just like that.

Bela’s chapped lips morphed into a mischievous smile as she suddenly found herself in a playful mood, “Oh? Don’t tell me you’ve found my dear sister Cassandra’s company to be less than perfectly agreeable?” A look of mock hurt completed the act, though before Ethan could even respond Bela wondered if she had gone too far.

True, Cassandra and Ethan had made considerable progress in moving past the first impression they’ve made on each other, but Bela knew well that Ethan still had plenty of reason to despise her cruelty-prone sibling. And while Bela naturally wanted for them to get along, she was not callous enough to jest about Ethan’s predicament at Cassandra hands, all these years ago. At least she hoped that she wasn’t.

Luckily, it appeared that Ethan was completely unbothered by the sentiment and his easy-going response put Bela fully at ease.

“Why, how could you even think that, Bells.” This time a spark of mischief flashed across Ethan’s own eyes as he continued, “The company of your beautiful brunette sister is nothing short of enchanting...”

Inspecting his neutral face carefully, Bela found herself both happy at the apparent fact of Ethan and Cassandra letting bygones be bygones, as well as somewhat… jealous at the genuine fondness in Ethan’s voice as he spoke about Cassandra. It resonated with one of her own deeply-rooted insecurities, the one that envied Cassandra’s natural beauty. Even though the middle sibling - unlike her sisters - scoffed at most aspects of beauty products and make-up, she could still easily appear radiant to the point where Bela had several times caught their maid’s gossip about Cassandra’s angelic appearance and demonic character alike. That effortless beauty was something Bela secretly envied, though it was not something she ever mentioned to anyone.

As if reading her like a book, Ethan gave Bela a charming smile before finalizing his thoughts, “...though there was a certain other Dimitrescu sister I wanted to see even more.”

And just like that, Bela’s every insecurity and fear faded into nothingness, dispelled by his beautiful smile and the unmistakable hint of desire for her in his eyes. Now lightly nibbling on her lower lip, Bela sensed her own desire rising - it did not help that Ethan was gently moving his palm across her rear. She needed this man all to herself, and if they could find some privacy, she would have him.

A high-pitched voice that belonged to neither of them put a damper on her growing arousal.

“Oh, Ethan! That is so sweet of you!”

Before Ethan could turn around to address the person behind the playful voice he felt a pair of slender but strong hands coil around his midsection and, an instant later, a warm body pressing against his back and a soft nose burying itself in his neck. The identity of this person was obvious enough, though before Ethan could address her, she continued speaking in her sing-song voice herself.

“I knew you couldn’t possibly live without Daniela in your life but I had no idea you were that desperate to see me!” the playfully conceited words were immediately followed by that familiar joyful giggling a certain redhead was famous for.

Bela didn’t question how exactly Daniela managed to sneak up on them in this open corridor, though she did let out an amused chuckle at her stealthy sibling’s childish antics. On another day the elder daughter might have been a bit cross with her younger sister’s interruption that would inevitably lead to her taking the spotlight, but today she was just too damn happy that they were all alive and together once again.

“Hey, Dani.” Likewise, Ethan did not appear too distraught about their little moment being interrupted, as he likely was also worried sick about the youngest Dimitrescu daughter. Still, the man gave Bela a questioning and slightly sheepish look, as if to ask if it was okay for him to turn his attention elsewhere. Receiving a nod, Ethan had the decency to mouth a silent apology as he rotated around to take Daniela into a proper hug - the one she enjoyed immensely, if her almost cat-like purring was any indication.

Taking a step back as she observed the happy reunion between her hellion of a sister and a man she has grown to love, Bela caught a stray thought that coursed through the back of her mind. Somehow, in this moment of platonic affection, Bela couldn’t help but vividly imagine that if things turned out differently, Ethan might’ve very well ended up with Daniela… or even Cassandra, for that matter. It was not hard for Bela to see that Ethan’s caring and joyful side resonating with that of Daniela, while his protective and fierce streak complimented Cassandra’s ones splendidly.

But those were mere stray thoughts of another life, another world and they could bring Bela no discomfort. The passion that she just saw in his eyes - the passion for her, and only for her - existed here and now, and Bela was determined to further foster them. That’s why seeing Ethan embrace Daniela so warmly now produced nothing but joyous feelings in the elder sister.

In turn, Ethan momentarily focused his attention on Daniela, though he was not entirely clueless to Bela’s possible thoughts. Gazing down at the perky red head that dominated his view, Ethan gently rubbed her back with a slow circular motion. Even though he didn’t get a good look on Daniela’s face, he could plainly see a myriad of scars and scratches that marred her once-pristine skin - indicating that yesterday was not easy even on the youngest of Dimitrescu sisters. 

That very notion sent a spike of protective anger coursing through Ethan, making him cease the calming motion with his hands in favor of simply holding the redhead tight - a gesture she reciprocated fully. Ethan knew full well how fragile the girl in his arms was. Despite the unnatural power that accompanied her from the moment of her rebirth, Daniela was repulsed by conflict and strife - far more than either of her sisters. The youngest Dimitrescu sibling craved love and affection above all else, and in this moment Ethan was determined to provide just that, while hoping that it would make up for at least a modicum of agony Daniela indubiously went through yesterday.

“It’s alright, Dani…”

Not even Bela, who stood mere feet away, could hear the tenderly whispered words that were meant just for Daniela. Of course, with her keen senses second to none, Daniela herself had no issues whatsoever in deciphering the barely-audible murmur and was swift in responding.

Moving her head slightly back in a way that finally allowed Ethan to glimpse at her predictably bruised face, Daniela gave him a slight but charming smile, before mouthing, “Now that we are all finally together again… it is.” That earned the redhead a genuine smile from Ethan. He was quite happy to see that Daniela fully shared his newfound optimism about a better tomorrow. 

Still, with intense emotional reactions of reuniting with his loved ones slowly drying up, Ethan had one more worldly affair he was quite curious about.

“So, where exactly are we?”

That simple question caused Daniela to tilt her head to one side while opening her mouth in a cute ‘O’ shape - which remained in that shape for a few moments as the woman clearly struggled to come up with a proper response.

Thankfully, Bela was still right there behind them, “What do you mean, Ethan? We are still in the detainment center.”

That honestly created more questions than answers for Ethan. Detainment center? Frowning and gently detaching himself from Daniela, the man turned around to face Bela; the gears in her bright head were working furiously judging by her contemplative expression, as she likely hastily ran through various scenarios which would permit for Ethan to not possess this - obvious to her, information.

“Detainment center?”

Bela merely nodded, unsure as to what could cause what she could only see as a lapse in memory in Ethan.

Agile as a cat, Daniela snaked around Ethan, having no issues to do so even in this narrow corridor, and took her spot next to Bela, only to furiously whisper something that Ethan could hear just fine.

“They held him for so long! Maybe they have messed up his head or something?! Those bastards!”

Bela nibbled on her lip in worry as she responded, “They promised it was just tests…”

A measure of worry about their current predicament started to crawl its way out of the forlorn depths of his mind. Still, Ethan knew full well the true reason for his lapse of memory of the latest events. ‘They’ - whoever they were, were hardly responsible for a certain psychic bastard taking over his mind.

The man nibbled on his own lip as he took in the worried faces of the women that gazed at him in turn. It was obvious that all three of them were plagued by uncertainty at this moment, though it was Ethan who decided to act first.

While he was naturally afraid to sound like an unhinged lunatic who spouted delirious stories, the man was resolute as he connected his gaze with Bela’s amber orbs.

One of his utmost desires was to build a relationship with this enigmatic creature that has taken possession of his heart, but an even bigger desire was for that relationship to be based on both trust and love. He knew that only by working in tandem, these feelings could lay the foundation of something truly beautiful… something lasting. One without the other would eventually lead to nothing but disappointment and misery - his experience in life taught him that much. Therefore, Ethan was determined not to conceal potentially important information from Bela, even if it was deeply uncomfortable to reveal.

Ethan wetted his lips, acutely aware of just how parched his throat currently was.

“Do you know who Paxton Fettel is and what ultimately happened to him?” Ethan was actually aware - due to the weird mind-connection they’ve briefly shared - that Fettel was there to imperil Rose directly and that notion alone made the man want to resurrect that bastard, so that he could choke him to death with his two hands. 

Bela blinked her eyes and Ethan didn’t miss how her lips connected into a thin, angry line. Likewise, Daniela turned her gaze away, suddenly uncomfortable and more than a little afraid. Even though Fettel was dead - at least as far as any of them were concerned, the mere mention of that bastard’s name was enough to evoke powerful negative emotions of hatred and fear even in these long-lived vampiric siblings. Ethan felt a tinge of remorse for bringing that horrible man’s name once again, but they wouldn’t exactly get the full picture with him omitting it.

“I…” Bela appeared somewhat distraught and more than a little uncertain as she attempted to respond to Ethan’s quarry, “...I am not exactly sure how, but Cassandra managed to blow that fucker’s brains out…”

“Through the wall.” Helpfully added Daniela.

“Through the wall.” Confirmed Bela with a nod. This was definitely a topic they had discussed during Ethan’s sleepwalking-like state, though it was obvious that they were not exactly sure what made Cassandra perform that peculiar shot. Neither did Ethan, of course, though he knew that it was not the end of Paxton Fettel, despite the demise of his physical body.

Ethan’s lips were unbearably parched.

“I need a drink...”

 

***

 

Unfortunately for Ethan, the canteen of the facility he had found himself was a bleak place with chipped tile walls and nary a flower pot for decoration. Likewise, the best he managed to procure in its nearly depleted stores was some horrid coffee. Nevertheless, the strong caffeine served him just as well as he was about to have the blanks in his memory filled up.

“So much for Uncle Sam’s famed hospitality…”

Karl Heisenberg was clearly not overjoyed by the cup of tasteless coffee as he took a sip from it. Ethan did not comment on the aforementioned observation as he himself had little faith left in most current political or economical institutions, instead he took a glance at the speaker himself. 

The scruffy Lord of Metal appeared to be in a remarkably better condition than when he saw him last, though the exhaustion was visible on both his facial features as well as in every pained movement of his muscles. It would probably be a while before the formidable ferrokinetic would be swinging enormous hammers around. 

Regardless, he was quite patient with the fact that Ethan suddenly needed to be caught up on the recent events. While not exactly sure of what was going on, it did not take him, as well as Bela and her sisters long to fill the blanks in Ethan’s memory.

Not long after the fateful shot by Cassandra put an end to Fettel’s physical body, the B.S.A.A. reinforcements had arrived to relieve the besieged occupants of the HQ. 

With their command structure in tatters and having suffered heavy casualties among their rank-and-file, the remaining Bloodfang terrorists had either surrendered, fled or gone out in a blaze of glory. With the chaos caused by the outbreak, there was little to be done about those who escaped and they would certainly resurface to plague the B.S.A.A. and regular people alike, eventually - but that was a problem for another day, and Ethan hoped - for someone else to deal with, for once.

While the Biohazard platoons of National Guard begun the process of reclaiming the city, the survivors of the joint anti-Connections operation were rounded up and relocated to various quarantine facilities where the professionals could determine whether or not any of them were infected by the insidious C-Virus or some other infectious ailment. An understandable and unfortunately necessary precaution.

The not-quite-human moldy gang and those closest to them were placed in a blacksite detainment facility some distance away from New York as the higher-ups thought of a best way to deal with them. There was simply too much of a mess for them to be let go to the four winds. Too much attention has been drawn to them for that to be an option.

Truth to be told, Ethan was a bit surprised that such powerful individuals like Heisenberg and the Dimitrescu sisters would even allow themselves to be detained like this, especially after they were promised freedom and a blank state for taking part in this operation in the first place. Surprisingly, it was Cassandra who had claimed that Chris would definitely not leave them hanging and find a way for them to yet receive their official pardons. Moreover, Karl had claimed that he was sick and tired of being either an exile or a fugitive, and even a chance of finally becoming a truly free man was worth it. And so they all sat tight, awaiting the verdict.

The revelation that Mia took a direct part in the crisis was neither surprising, nor truly unexpected to Ethan. Neither was the fact that Mia turned on her former ally the moment she realized that Fettel wished to harm Rose herself and not merely Alcina. Both of these strong women were mothers first and foremost and they acted accordingly, which likely made them predictable to certain exploitative figures. What was shocking to Ethan was the way Bela described Mia saving her life - and the way Bela then proceeded to let Mia escape with her freedom once the B.S.A.A. showed up. It was a bit unnerving to know that Mia was still prowling out there, but Ethan would lie if he claimed that he felt no relief about the continued life and freedom of the former love of his life.

Finally, the last point that Ethan was curious about was the fact of his own prolonged detainment. While everyone else, including the Dimitrescu family and Heisenberg passed the decontamination process rather swiftly with no abnormalities of note present (other than the ones they were born with - the expected ones), Ethan himself was kept in isolation for many hours as the local B.S.A.A. personnel kept running various tests on him.

The very notion was deeply unsettling to him, but it was clear that the experts on Bioterrorism found Ethan more potentially dangerous than the family of vampires or the Lord of Metal. They provided no explanation and for now all Ethan and his friends could do was to await the verdict as they kept guessing at the nature of Ethan’s current condition. Privately, however, Ethan found himself exceptionally happy about the way events had turned out. After all, if not for his prolonged detainment, it was quite possible that Fettel would’ve been able to carry out his gruesome plan to absorb Rose’s essence. Instead, that bastard had no choice but twiddle Ethan’s own thumbs as he sat in an isolation cell, while Ethan himself slowly made his way through the mental maze. In a particularly twisted way, it seemed that his inhuman biology made all the difference, once again.

Now that Ethan was up to date on the latest events he had ‘missed’, it was time to satiate the curiosity of his friends that had to put up with his inexplicable episode of forgetfulness. After making them promise to let him speak his piece without interruption - as the story was simply too wild to be recounted with constant questions, Ethan began.

To their credit, the members of his small audience did not immediately try to express their disbelief with words, though Ethan’s keen eyes did note signs of incredulity in their facial features as he spoke of his mental misadventure.

On the other side of the table, were the three Dimitrescu sisters, now reunited before Ethan’s gaze. They listened without interrupting, but it was obvious that they ached to do just that as their burning eyes locked themselves on Ethan’s own - which was hardly surprising, considering all the unbelievable madness his story of lunacy and delirium contained - or at least it would appear that way to an ordinary sane person. Of course, all of those present were intimately familiar with the fact that there were forces in this world that were simply beyond their comprehension, so that helped a lot with their suspension of disbelief.

Therefore, they listened to his ludicrous tale with bated breath and all of them showed signs of being barely able to restrain themselves from launching into a barrage of questions - all in their own ways. Bela listened quietly, though her eyes glittered with both curiosity and wonder alike. Cassandra attempted to feign indifference by lazily tilting her head to the side, though Ethan did not fail to note how her ears perked from time to time. Daniela, however, was unable to sit straight as she fidgeted on her seat and fiddled with her fingers; a restraining glare from Bela would make the particularly burning question die before it would manage to flee from Daniela’s open lips.

In particular, the girls’ interest was clearly piqued by mentions of their own mental avatars, who had been there to aid Ethan in his final confrontation with Fettel. The awkward mention of the gems and their ultimate metamorphosis into a singular pistol made the Dimitrescu siblings trade amazed glances, piquing Ethan’s curiosity in turn.

Of course, once his tale was told, the dam that held their curiosity was breached and Ethan was assaulted by three different mouths interrogating him, though it was not long before their combined interest converged on their own representations.

“I bet Ethan was so happy to see us lend him a hand even in his strange dream adventure!” Daniela clapped her hands together as her eyes glinted in delight.

Cassandra scoffed at that, before folding her arms and mumbling out something that had a far too affectionate tone to it to be properly classified as a mockery.

“Poor little man-thing, needing a woman’s help to fight his own battles.”

Before Ethan could come with a retort, Bela was nearly instantaneous with rebuking her own sister, “Even as a jest, it is a particularly poor one, considering all Ethan had gone through… fought through…”

Ethan gave Bela an appreciative glance. While he naturally had no need for anyone else to speak for him, it still felt good to have someone else recognize his many hardships and respect his formidable kill count. He might be a reasonably good-natured man, but he sure could kick some serious ass when push comes to shove.

Surprisingly, Cassandra relented quickly from Bela’s rebuke, shrugging her shoulders and mouthing a slightly begrudging acknowledgement, “I suppose that’s true. Ethan has proven to be remarkably adept at both inflicting and…” the sadist licked her lips while giving Ethan a wicked smirk, making him involuntary shudder from her next words, “...taking pain.”

The implication of pain was never welcome, yet Ethan still saw the compliment for what it was, “Wow, thanks for the compliment… I guess.”

Adopting a pensive expression with her index finger around her chin, Bela returned the conversation back to its previous point, “I can’t help but wonder how exactly the three of us were able to make our appearance in your mind… without our own knowledge of it, of all things!”

Bela sounded incredulous, and Ethan couldn’t help but share the notion. He had assumed that their aid was not exactly intentional - seeing as none of them had any idea about the last stand of Paxton Fettel before he told them of it, but it hardly made any more sense, regardless.

“None of you remember anything weird happening during that time interval? Nothing at all?”

The three head-shakes were the response to Ethan’s inquiry, though after thinking for a couple of seconds Bela offered something slightly more tangible.

“I suppose we were quite worried about you, since the soldiers kept you in detainment far longer than the rest of us…but I can’t see how exactly that would allow our mental avatars to manifest inside your mind.”

“Simple, really.”

Everyone present had almost forgotten about the fact that Karl Heisenberg was still sitting at the table with them, quietly sipping on his coffee. Two words, spoken with confidence, were enough to remind them about him.

“Simple, Uncle?” Bela tilted her head to the side in curiosity. She was probably unused to the feeling of not being up to speed in any given situation.

Heisenberg smirked as he leveled an even gaze towards Bela. 

“Dearest niece, it appears that you’re still not fully aware of the nature of your existence…”

Karl started his monologue sounding like a condescending jerk but his tone quickly shifted towards remorseful. 

“We were an experiment.” Bela’s lips were a thin line after she let out her swift response. The elder daughter was quite aware of what she and her beloved sisters were to Mother Miranda. “A failure ,” she added with an air of finality of one who had accepted the grim truth long ago. Cassandra and Daniela said nothing, but their pained faces spoke enough. This was not a topic any of them enjoyed.

Not thinking twice, Ethan outstretched his right hand to take hold of Bela’s slightly smaller palm. The man gave it a comforting squeeze, receiving a grateful smile in return.

“Indeed…” Heisenberg responded to Bela’s outspoken revelation with similar levels of resignation in his tone. “Though, not necessarily because of what you may think.”

Bela tilted her head in curiosity as she considered the peculiar ending to his sentence. “It's the cold, isn't it? Has to be…” Daniela nodded along, also certain that their crippling vulnerability to cold was the reason for Miranda considering them a failure.

Heisenberg just scoffed, before explaining, “Your unfortunate weakness to cold certainly played a part in Miranda’s little tantrum back then, but the hard truth goes even beyond it.”

“Beyond it?” Cassandra had an unmistakable hint of incredulity to her tone, which was likely shared by all present.

“It's not something she liked to discuss - the bitch Miranda didn’t like dwelling on her mistakes, despite being surrounded by them for decades.” Karl scoffed, showing his own disdain for the priestess that had once kidnapped him from his family in a bid to produce a superior mutant. “Cadou came in many different breeds. The three of yours had a certain gene in them.”

“A certain gene?” Bela’s curiosity could no longer be contained.

“A cute one, I hope,” offered Daniela, while giving her signature awkward giggle.

Ignoring his youngest niece, Heisenberg merely nodded, before continuing. “A little offer from Miranda’s old acquaintance, a fellow by the name of Harlan Wade.”

Ethan’s blood chilled in his veins, for that name was quite familiar to him after his encounter with Paxton Fettel. A mad scientist if there was ever one, and a father to Alma Wade - a psychic prodigy who turned out to be simply too dangerous to control or even contain.

Seeing the shock in his eyes, Kart nodded Ethan’s way, “That’s right. I wouldn’t be surprised if that Alma you mentioned was connected to that Harlan fellow.”

“Miranda was quite frustrated when she showed me their shared research notes, years later.” Karl waved his hands overhead to underline the notion, “wasted potential, scientific dead-end, pompous American wash-outs.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Uncle?” Cassandra was getting annoyed, with an angry scowl quickly marring her otherwise beautiful face.

“Psychic abilities - telepathy, telekinesis, all the good stuff.” Karl let out another tired sigh as a number of confused eyes tracked his every motion, “You were among the first to be born in this world with the nascent psychic gene. Perhaps the first.”

A moment of silence passed, with the three sisters and Ethan staring at Karl with open mouths.

Surprisingly, it was Daniela who broke the sudden quiet, with a particularly high-pitched shriek too.

“Wait, what?! Why had nobody told me that we can do stuff like that?!”

Turning towards the redhead, Ethan observed the peculiar sight of Daniela focusing her intent on a gray ceramic cup next to her. As if underlining her herculean effort, a corner of her tongue was peeking from her mouth, with the rest of her facial features frozen in concentration. 

The cup didn’t move an inch, causing Daniela to grunt and swat it away in frustration, in turn causing it to shatter against the tiled floor. “It's not working!”

Apparently, nobody else at the table shared her ire as a collective laughter rang out.

“Good ol’ Red never fails to amuse,” Heisenberg mumbled what everyone was thinking, before explaining, “That’s the point - you don’t have any pronounced powers - as if you three didn’t cause enough messes without being able to move stuff with your mind alone, hah!”

Before anyone could question him, Karl continued, “That, however, doesn’t mean that you’re entirely bereft of psychic abilities.” Seeing that he had their full attention, the scruffy lord cleared his throat and dropped the bomb on their entire existence.

“Miranda was absolutely sure that your swarm forms are a manifestation of your latent psychic abilities - even when your human bodies fully disperse into a multitude of flies, your consciousness lingers. Your mental capacity remains largely the same - spread around the grain-sized brains of your flies, but only thanks to that overarching consciousness that transcends the limitations of the material plane.”

“Even without a functioning human brain, all your memories, your thoughts, your feelings remain - kept afloat but that intangible force that connects your every little fly into a single super organism. It directs your buzzing swarms to act according to your will instead of their basic instincts.” Taking off his shades, Karl gazed around those present, noting the incredulity on their features.

“What did you think allowed you to do the feats you were able to achieve?”

“Pheromo-” tried Bela, only to be brushed off with a wave of Karl’s hand.

“Mere pheromones would have never been able to achieve the levels of precision and control you’ve repeatedly demonstrated. They could never hope to explain the lingering intelligence behind your swarms.”

Bela did not try to argue any further. If she was being honest with herself, she never truly had a clue about the mechanisms behind her swarm shape or the way she could control it so flawlessly - as if every single insect was merely an extension of herself - always connected. But to think that the truth transcended the limitations of the material plane itself…this was a lot to take in.

But Karl was not yet done, as he finished his cup of coffee and spoke in a somewhat lighter tone, “But even more than that, Miranda has theorized that you were also connected among yourselves to a lesser degree.”

“She even tested it once.” Karl’s light tone turned grim once again as he addressed Daniela. “Remember Olga?”

Ethan couldn’t possibly fail to note a violent shudder that shot through Daniela’s frame at the mention of that name. The girl nodded, though shied her eyes away from the speaker. This was clearly an uncomfortable topic for her, and Bela did not hesitate to attempt and shield her by responding herself, “Of course. What about her?” 

Cassandra’s fists clenched tight. Whoever that person was, it was someone who did not win any favor with the three Dimitrescu daughters.

Karl clicked his tongue with derision, but responded, “It was not by chance that day little Olga decided to ignore Alcina’s rules and crack open a window with Daniela in the room, nor was the fact that Bela was summoned to attend a ritual on the other side of the village, despite the cold.”

Seeing confusion in Ethan’s eyes, Karl clarified that last point, “She had to wear a lot of cloth. And I mean a lot .”

The Lord of Metal did not relent in his verbal tirade, immediately shifting his attention back to Bela, “but you could feel it back then, didn’t you? Daniela’s agony was your agony, muted perhaps, but yours, nevertheless.”

Bela gulped in discomfort, but nodded tersely, “It was like an echo… I could tell its direction and its source… but not much beyond it. I just knew that Daniela was in trouble.”

Karl nodded, satisfied. “That, ‘I have to go’ was more telling to Miranda than you could’ve guessed back then. She was testing the limits of your connection, after all.”

Bela appeared to be deep in thought about that, allowing others to voice their questions.

“So what happened to that Olga?” Ethan couldn’t help his curiosity, even though a part of him knew the answer to that question already. The evil glint in Cassandra’s eyes spoke even before she did.

“What do you think? She had to be punished for her transgressions. I handled it.” Cassandra hissed her words with unmistakable venom and sadism, implying that not only that she found the grim procedure of torturing a human being to death pleasant but deeply personal, in that particular case. Knowing well how personal she took her position as a guardian to her sisters and mother it made sense to Ethan, even despite all the underlying cruelty. Though he still did not quite expect what happened next as he gazed upon the brunette sister.

Her fists unclenched and her head dropped low as she stared at her feet. Suddenly it appeared that all the fight had left her body as she mumbled out in a voice that hinted of remorse, “So it was Miranda’s orders all along Olga had followed back then…?”

“Indeed.”

A moment of silence ensued after Karl’s confirmation. Looking at Cassandra, Ethan dared to assume that perhaps that was a moment of silence for the unjustly slain maid.

Bela placed a gentle arm around Cassandra’s shoulders in a bid to lift her spirits up a bit. The middle daughter always acted in the interests of the family, though often the path she took was unnecessarily cruel. After the fall of Miranda and the Dimitrescu family trying to start a new life, all these cruelties suddenly became a heavy load upon Cassandra’s slender shoulders. A load Cassandra did not share with anyone, yet it was something Bela was all too aware of. Her blazing eyes were directed at her uncle as she hissed out, “is there a point to it, Uncle?”

Exasperated, the man dramatically raised his hands over his head.

“The point is that your latent psychic abilities connect you to each other, allowing a sliver of vital data to be shared among you, regardless of distance.” The man glanced at Cassandra, before setting his gaze on Bela.

“You mentioned how you were angry like never before just before Cassandra shot Fettel without actually having a line of sight of him or even being aware of him?”

An uncertain nod from Bela was followed by an inspired ‘Ah-ha!’ from Karl, who then clicked his fingers and focused his gaze on Cassandra next, “You probably felt your sister’s rage to the point where it clouded your mind, haven’t you, Cass?”

Blinking her eyes in surprise, Cassandra merely shrugged her shoulders, before letting out a noncommittal grunt.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Karl was undaunted, “Bela’s burning need to destroy slash protect was so powerful that through your psychic connection it became your need to destroy slash protect, Cass… even without you having any solid idea about what it is you wanted to destroy or protect. Good thing you had a tool on hand that was up to the task.”

This conversation was as weird as it was enlightening to Ethan, yet Heisenberg was not done.

 “But even going beyond your existing connection, Miranda has theorized that you were capable of forming new connections with the others.” Then, Karl motioned a hand at Ethan while still looking straight at Bela, even as lecherous smirk formed on his lips, “Forgive me for prying, dearest niece, but you did get quite close and…ahm, personal to Mr. Winters over here, didn’t you?”

The beautiful blush coloring Bela’s already gorgeous pale cheeks pink was probably enough on its own to evoke a mirroring reaction on Ethan’s own face, the aforementioned implication of intimate moments notwithstanding.

“That’s none of your business, Uncle!”

At that, both Daniela and Cassandra burst into a subdued fit of giggles; the previous forlorn atmosphere gradually fading away, to be replaced by one of joy of their newfound freedom to love whoever they damn well pleased.

Chuckling in an affectionate manner, Karl nevertheless concluded his point, “So there you have it. Bela is connected to our dear Ethan here, and through her, so is Daniela and Cassandra.”

“You were worried about him during his overly-long decontamination procedure, you say?” Three nods were his response, to which he nodded himself, satisfied. “That worry, through your latent psychic powers, was able to manifest itself as a quite tangible force inside his own mind, when it was needed most.”

“Ultimately, Miranda had come to the conclusion that your gifts were next to worthless and had focused on a more material line of research with her Cadou, but today, without even realizing it, you’ve used your powers in a way she surely never anticipated.” 

The scruffy lord appeared overly happy with that notion - as if it was one more act of defiance against Miranda - one more time she was proven wrong.

“It might have been just a sliver of your focused will and desires, but it was just enough to lend Ethan a hand and ultimately tip the balance in his favor. I am sure he appreciates it.”

All this was far too insane for Ethan’s liking, yet he could not help but agree, nevertheless, “Yeah…I really do…” Still, there was some lingering curiosity that now burned with a new flame, now that he knew all the delirious details about his mental adventure. “I get the gems, but what about that old German pistol?” 

Indeed, the importance of their gems to the Dimitrescu siblings was quite telling - considering that they wore them even in this very instant. The gun was a different thing entirely, and Ethan had no clue about its origins or importance, though a shared look among the sisters implied that it was not the case for them.

Apparently, it was not something they often talked about, but Bela still did not hesitate in revealing the episode from the family’s dark past - at least in the way she knew it.

“The mother had shown it to us, once.” Suddenly, the two sisters at her sides had grown solemn and quiet. Even Daniela’s fiddling had ceased as she side glanced at Bela with silent reverence.

“She had called it the tool of death, but also of liberation. It was there when the Dimitrescu family perished and it was instrumental in its rebirth, for it allowed Mother to finally break the shackles to her old life.”

Bela paused for a moment, gathering thoughts, before continuing, in that same respectful voice, “I am not sure exactly, but the way she spoke about it, I think it forever stuck in our minds as a symbol of Strength.”

“...and Vengeance…”, “...and Freedom.” swiftly added Cassandra and Daniela, respectfully. 

Now it made sense to Ethan. The old German pistol was an unconscious manifestation of power that was shared among the three sisters. This is why their unique gems merged into it when they had unknowingly lent him a hand in his confrontation with Paxton Fettel.

“I see…”

The silence that ensued for a few seconds did not last, as Karl let out a chuckle before giving voice to the notion that everyone was feeling. 

“I think that’s enough technical mumbo-jumbo for one night.”

The giggles, laughs and yells of agreement were their united response to the Lord of Metal’s statement. The serious conversation was over, replaced by small talk of jokes and short, amusing stories.

The rest of the early morning in the bleak detention facility was spent in the atmosphere of joy and camaraderie, which only further increased as more of its occupants joined the gang in the canteen; the beautiful morning sun bathing them in its warm golden rays.

 

***

 

Hours later, the tiny canteen was filled almost to capacity as every detainee inside the facility gathered in it. Most of those were the anti-Connections operatives who worked directly with members of the so-called moldy gang and now had no choice but to share the quarantine facility with them. But there were some others that were more familiar to the company of unnatural freaks at the table.

First, Ethan, Karl and the three sisters were also joined by the Dimitrescu matriarch as well as a small child at her side - Sarah - a Eveline-like bioweapon developed by Mia and later rescued by Daniela during their ill-fated New York operation. The tiny girl appeared despondent; a special collar around her neck ensured that she would not use her mold-powers for the foreseeable future. To her credit, Alcina did everything she could in an attempt to cheer up the mutated girl, though her efforts met only partial success. Sarah did not join any conversation and ignored every question directed her way, though she did express her gratitude with a barely audible whisper when offered food and water - which she then proceeded to devour with remarkable ferocity.

Tom followed along shortly after and Ethan couldn’t help but chuckle as the young man appeared all too eager to take a spot opposite of Daniela, with the aforementioned redhead quickly shooting him a flirty smile that was instantly reciprocated. Alcina did not appear too amused at the exchange, though she abstained from commenting.

Blind to her mother’s ire, Daniela eagerly clapped her palms together as she addressed the newest member of their company.

“Any news?”

Tom shook his head gently, but before Daniela’s spirits could plummet he was quick to attempt to comfort her, “The Duke has assured me that while our situation got that much complicated due to the viral outbreak, he is still certain that the best possible outcome is within reach.” Addressing everyone now, the man finished in a tone that left little doubt about his own faith on the subject, “The Duke is determined to do everything in his power to make it so and I have not once seen him fail to deliver.”

The increased complexity of the situation made sense to Ethan, since before the outbreak the little moldy crew was operating behind the scenes with very few individuals privy to the true nature of their existence. The outbreak made it all come to light. But still, Ethan had faith in both the Duke and Chris to get them out of this mess.

“The Captain is working on it with Mr. Kennedy, as well.” Dion Wilson’s cheerful voice resonated across the canteen, making its occupants redirect their attention towards the newest arrival, who waved a hand in greeting, “I wouldn’t worry too much, folks - everything gonna turn out just peachy.”

Chris and Leon both have amassed a formidable reputation and established a great many influential connections over the years, and now they spoke on their behalf against the many voices that likely sought to either consign them to a life of a lab-rat or exterminate them outright. While naturally a worrisome predicament, Ethan couldn’t help but believe that everything would turn out alright. Moreover, the father was also overjoyed to see Dion here among them. Even though his status as an elite Hound Wolf operative would’ve surely allowed him to avoid being stuck with the freaks here, the good-natured man chose to stay with his comrades, regardless of their natures. The firm handshake they shared in the next moment spoke volumes about the respect both men had for each other.

Next, in came a brunette woman Ethan was personally not acquainted with, but someone at their table clearly was, and moreover, was quite happy to see her.

“Cathie! You’re okay!” 

Daniela’s chirp cry was immediately followed by the buzzing of flies as the energetic redhead assumed her swarm form to fly around all the obstacles that were between her and the woman in question.

The sight of the onrushing swarm of bugs was no doubt a fearsome one to the uninitiated and the woman’s face momentarily tensed in fright, though it was swift to relax in amusement as Daniela’s swarmform shapeshifted back into her human form as the redhead coalesced to embrace her friend in a warm hug - a gesture she politely declined by putting her palms forward.

“Easy, Dani! That clone bastard’s baton broke a couple of my ribs!”

Daniela was undaunted, however, and still leapt upon her friend with a hug. For a second there Ethan was even afraid that the overly-emotional vampire would cause damage to the still-healing body of the human woman, but he quickly wisened up as he gazed upon the duo. Despite her sometimes goofy attitude, Daniela was far from being stupid or inconsiderate and her hug reflected that - it was done with a tenderness one would employ when transporting a crate of delicate china or fragile glass figurines. Experiencing the gentle treatment firsthand, Catherine’s face lost its remaining signs of worry, instead adopting a peaceful and joyous expression as she slowly returned the hug. “I am really glad you’re okay as well, Dani…”

“You bet! My sisters will never let any bad guys hurt me!”

The remark was justifiably directed towards both Cassandra and Bela and both of them glowed in pride at the acknowledgement from their little sister. For Ethan however, the sight was wholesome beyond words, as the man found himself eminently happy to see the cheerful redhead finally able to connect with other people. As far as he was concerned, few deserved a chance at happiness as much as Daniela, who truly was a victim of cruel science and unfathomable circumstances and who never wished to harm another living being. To see her make such good friends with Tom and Catherine caused pleasant warmth to spread in his chest - a feeling that was fully shared by her own family as well, judging by their smiles of contentment.

 

The next hour flowed by, with amicable conversations being shared freely between the humans and the freaks among them. There was little enmity left between them, as their combined efforts had achieved much. 

While it would take some time to learn the true extent of damage they have managed to inflict upon the Connections, one thing was certain. Without their aid, the scale of the unexpected catastrophe that befell New York City would’ve been far larger. That knowledge, that humans and mutants working together managed to save so many innocent people created a bond among those present in this bleak facility.

 

As he excused himself to go pick up Rose, who has likely recovered enough and now ached to join them herself, Ethan once again sensed that overwhelming, radiant hope pooling in his heart. 

Surely they’ve left the worst behind them and things will only be looking up from now on. 

That silly optimistic notion would’ve made the man let out a bitter chuckle a month ago, but today he felt it earnestly.

On his way back to the canteen, with his beloved daughter in his arms, there was not a shadow of doubt in his heart that everything would turn out okay.

 

Whether by chance or design, a new face was there to greet him and Rose.

A face of a friend, though once thought a bitter nemesis, who had come to bail his ass out of the fire more than once.

Chris Redfield, his whole body marked by signs of recent strife - yet unbroken, smiled at the wholesome sight of Ethan and Rose. It was not an exhausted smirk to convey fake reassurances, but a genuine smile of true friendship and stalwart comradery.

Bela Dimitrescu stood next to Chris, though her attention was now fully on Ethan and Rose as she demonstrated a lovely smile of her own. There was no more tension or worry in her frame, only unbound hope for a better tomorrow. A tomorrow with a man she came to love.

Ethan Winters smiled back at both of them, a wide, happy smile of a man who knew that all the horror and tragedy was finally behind him.

 

A new dawn awaited.

Notes:

I am really sorry about how long it took for me to put this chapter together... :/ Thankfully, some of my IRL stuff have cleared up a bit so I'll be likely able to update faster from now on.

Anyway, this is not exactly an epilogue but more of an aftermath - we still got an epilogue to go through but I wanna give a HUGE THANKS to everyone who stuck with this story for so long - its more than a year old by now, holy shit! Know that it would've never been possible without your support, my dear readers!

As for the chapter itself, I hope my psychic mumbo-jumbo wasn't too otherworldy, but I personally really feel that its the best possible explanation for Dimitrescu daughters swarm abilities, and so I took the liberty of expanding it just a bit :) Also, the gun is a direct reference to the previous story in this series - Alcina's backstory from 'Haunted by the Past' (for those who didn't read it) I might have been a bit heavy-handed with that reference, since I feel like most readers didn't quite catch it and got confused from it, and for that I am sorry - I'll try to have a bit more clarity to my work from now on.

As always, any comments are appreciated; regardless, thanks for reading and have a splendid week!

Chapter 49: The Blissful Aftermath

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

June 26th, 2023 - Two weeks after the ‘Manhattan Outbreak’

154 kilometers to the south-west of Alice Springs, Australia

 

Mia Winters wiped the sweat off her forehead with a rose-motif handkerchief. The scorching sun was unbearable in this inhospitable locale and her brown wide-brimmed hat was hardly sufficient to protect her head from the overbearing heatwave. 

With dark bags under her eyes, Mia allowed her weary gaze to roam across the sun-seared plains that dominated the landscape before focusing on gargantuan plateau in the distance. The ambient heat was intense enough that the surrounding plains were shimmering.

She wished to be anywhere but here, but fate left her little choice in the matter.

Not taking her eyes off the impressive plateau far in the distance, Mia attempted to wet her parched lips, but even her tongue was seemingly unable to provide the needed moisture. Her throat felt driest it has ever been in her life. 

“Thirsty?”

A bottle of water was suddenly thrust before her face. Mia did not hesitate in making a grab for it, before greedily chugging it all down her throat. The relief she felt from the chill liquid was unfortunately limited to alleviating the dryness of her throat; it did nothing for the ache in her heart. Still, she was grateful to her partner in crime for the gesture.

“Thanks, Seb.”

Mia knew Sebastian Hale for a very long time. As a matter of fact, Mia first met Sebastian even before Ethan Winters entered her life. And for as long as she knew Sebastian, she knew him to be a selfish, manipulative man; a snake who was only in it for himself and his little material goals of further enrichment. He never had any qualms about sucking naive little girls like her onto the dark path from which there was no return - he never cared about who got hurt as long as he got what he wanted. The end justifies the means for that petty little man - the end being meeting the deadlines for the shitty projects he was in charge of; a promotion in the Connections and a fat bonus so he could get smashed drunk on the best liquid, with all the expensive whores money could buy at his side.

Gulping down the rest of the water, Mia couldn’t help but consider the fact that even this seemingly shallow man did not emerge unscathed from this whole ordeal. The string of defeats suffered at the hands of Ethan, followed by being relegated to play a second fiddle to Fettel made him start questioning the life choices he has made up until that moment; the direct part he was forced to play in the atrocity that was the Bioterror attack on Manhattan had really driven that point home and seemingly made him reassess his values and life goals. Somehow, it appeared that doing basically the same thing had a drastically different impact on one’s psyche when overseeing it from a gilded office on the other side of the world and when being right in the thick of it, surrounded by death and misery.

Still, Mia would’ve never taken Sebastian as someone who would’ve gone against his direct orders by sabotaging one of the C-Virus bombs, with his only excuse being that he had ‘never signed up for this shit’ . Mia wasn’t sure if Sebastian simply wanted to spite Fettel with his little act of defiance or if he genuinely sought to limit the casualties, but she was content with his choice, nevertheless. Like him, she never signed up to orchestrate a viral outbreak in a dense population center, but was simply unable to quit due to being far too deep in it. It seemed like she and Sebastian were more alike than she originally thought…

Even more than his sudden change of heart, Mia definitely did not expect him to actually come back for her once she had contacted him after having escaped from the Anti-Connections Task Force HQ. Yet he did. More than that even, the man has proven just as resourceful as a fugitive on the run as a talented headhunter and project overseer for the Connections. Even with the organization in question crumbling all around them and their limited resources and contacts dwindling by the minute, Sebastian had managed to safely guide them out of the quarantined Manhattan; past all the security checkpoints and vigilant patrols - it was amazing how much a fat wad of cash or a sob-story about an ailing grandmother could accomplish, but Mia had no qualms about admitting that Sebastian had a silver tongue. He had managed to talk her into joining an international crime syndicate, after all; she shouldn’t be too surprised that he also managed to talk their way past a couple of national guardsmen.

But there was one patrol, headed by a particularly meticulous guardsman, they could not talk their way through. Something more substantial had to be done. This is where Haru has proven his merit by - at Mia’s command - simultaneously infecting all five troopers with his elongated mold tentacles. Thankfully, their barbed edges, expelled with unnatural force, were capable of penetrating the guardsmen's biohazard uniforms. Unfortunately, the inoculations the biohazard-rated troops underwent rendered them highly resistant even to the mind-controlling mold strain.

Instead of taking over them completely like he was designed to do, Haru could merely paralyze them, and even then, only for as long as he maintained the connection. 

Out of time and knowing that more guardsmen could show up at any time, Mia had no choice but to leave the child behind, therefore ensuring her own escape. Even as she swallowed the tears of grief at the realization of her own depravity and selfishness she prayed that Haru would end up better off for it - perhaps someone would be able to reverse the harm she had done upon him and grant him a second lease on life.

Not that escaping New York City was the end of Mia's and Sebastian's trials - only the start of them, however.

With the tables turned, it was their faces now that were all over the wanted posters and on every goddamn TV screen. It took their combined wit and cunning to elude their many pursuers: the righteous lawmen and vengeful rivals - eager to get a bite out of the dying alpha of the bioterror world. The last two weeks were a testament to their will to survive, as well as their grit and resourcefulness. Spending their days hiding in abandoned hovels or forgotten ruins, with nights used for concealed movement - these activities were not for the faint of heart. Nor were cutting deals with most unsavory types imaginable - the kind that would sell out their own mother for a thousand bucks. 

As she went through this horrid ordeal, Mia truly had no time to worry about anyone but herself, though that did not prevent her from hoping that her own loved ones fared better than herself. Her own mother for once - the poor elderly woman could likely suffer from a heart attack just by reading the newspaper and seeing her own flesh and blood portrayed as a murderous terrorist on the run. 

At least Mia could be certain in Rose’s well-being. Ethan might’ve been a stubborn jackass who could’ve possibly avoided all this unpleasantness by simply joining their side when offered, but he was also one amazing fucking dad who would turn the world upside down to protect their daughter. Even with the spark of love between herself and Ethan fading seemingly for good, Mia could trust him to do that much for their daughter.

Perhaps also guided by that comforting knowledge, Mia was able to somehow overcome the many challenges of the last two weeks - sometimes by literally crawling through the piss and shit down in the sewers. And now, the two of them, as well as a bunch of like-minded former colleagues and now fellow fugitives, found themselves in the most inhospitable continent on Earth - Australia.

It was deeply ironic, some would even say karmic that the former B.O.W. researchers and peddlers found themselves hiding from justice in a region most ravaged by bioterror. Nevertheless, anyone who knew anything could see the merit in such a decision. Inland Australia was a desolate and lawless land, home to myriads of violent gangs of mutants and outlaws. No hand of law could ever hope to reach it, nor would any agent of justice be brave enough to come search for them here. 

This was a highly dangerous place, but as long as they remained in favor of the local warlord, they could be relatively safe. Mia felt like gagging as she recalled the warlord’s pockmarked and deformed face.

It was nothing short of a miracle that Sebastian managed to talk the half-mutated freak into granting them a temporary asylum - it only took the promise that Sebastian would reveal the hidden caches of weapons and schematics that the Connections had in the area. Mia dearly hoped that Sebastian wasn’t just talking out of his ass when he made that promise. She wasn’t looking to be eaten alive by the cannibalistic locals that eyed her like a particularly tasty piece of meat when they had passed by them.

“You’re welcome. Tired?” 

Somehow, out of all the crazy stuff that happened, it was the most incredulous thing to Mia, that despite everything that occurred, Sebastian still managed to retain that air of courtesy he always had when addressing her. It didn’t even sound faked during this whole tumultuous interval of time.

“Yeah…”

Tired was an understatement. Mia was fucking exhausted, with every muscle aching and every bone feeling as if it was about to break from even a minor further exertion. The way into this forsaken hellhole was not easy by any stretch of the word - a condition that was only further exacerbated by the fact that the surrounding area was simply too rugged and uneven for most vehicles, forcing the small group of fugitives to traverse it on foot.

Navigating through forgotten minefields, treacherous tar pits and snake-infested swamplands was no joke - even with the aid of the experienced guide from the settlement of Alice Springs, whose services Sebastian managed to procure, Mia got far too close to having her journey cut prematurely, more than once. She hated fucking snakes.

The price of safety was high indeed - a fitting punishment for her many transgressions, Mia supposed.

“I’ve prepared a tent for you… get some rest.” Sebastian’s offer was not only welcome, but reasonable, as well. With the scorching sun overhead, most locals took to shifting their sleep patterns in a bid to avoid its wilting gaze - adopting a more nocturnal lifestyle. Mia could see the wisdom in that, even if she found the aforementioned locals to be a repulsive bunch of deformed mutants.

Deciding to follow up on Sebastian’s suggestion, Mia has finally had enough of the savage yet picturesque view ahead of her and slowly turned her head to regard the man next to her. Truthfully, she had always found Sebastian to be a physically attractive individual and few could blame her for that.

Sebastian was a tall, well-built man with a handsome face and soulful green eyes. Previously, Mia had found his overly groomed appearance pretentious and pompous, but that issue was solved quite handily by the events of the last weeks. 

As Mia gazed on Sebastian’s weary face, she could detect no hint of his previous air of self-importance. Instead, all she could see was a notable increase of ruggedness to his features; with an according decrease to unhealthy body fat the man previously possessed due to his hedonistic lifestyle. His once-suave haircut was replaced by hand-brushed tangled mess and his previously clear-shaven jawline was hidden behind a stubble that was on its way to soon becoming a proper beard. The haughty arrogance that was ordinarily present in his eyes and expression both was replaced by resignation and composure in equal measures. 

Overall, this new look of hardy perseverance suited Sebastian… as far as Mia was concerned anyway.

Mia had expected this harrowing experience to break this little-minded man… instead, it seemed to have an opposite effect by forging him into a gritty survivor. It was an unexpected development, but certainly not an unwelcome one, given the fact that their fates were tied together now.

“Rest sounds good…” Mia’s words were followed by a grateful smile, directed at Sebastian. The man smiled in turn - not his usual kind of a smile that only served to convey his superiority, but a simple, soft smile that had no particular underlying meaning. Mia found the smile charming.

Slowly moving towards the aforementioned tent, with Sebastian shadowing her steps, Mia let out a question she has been thinking about, “How long do you think we will have to lay low out here? I hate this fucking place already…”

The man matched his pace with hers as he took his place by her side. Sebastian’s face adopted a pensive expression as he thought hard about her question. He wasn’t a highly ranked executive in the Connections for nothing, so the answer came swift yet was thought-out and even somewhat precise.

“I share the sentiment, but you know that this is the best place to just vanish from the face of Earth - exactly what we need to do for a while…” Sebastian wiped the sweat off his forehead and took a deep breath of air, before continuing.

“There are a lot of moving parts to consider, but I think we should do our best to lay low for around ten to twelve weeks.” Before Mia could ask for him to provide the reasoning for such a count, he did so himself, “My inside source assures me that B.S.A.A. current fervor for hunting Connections’ personnel can not possibly last long. The Bloodfang gonna dominate public awareness in the comic weeks and the pressure from it will force the Alliance to refocus their efforts on our terrorist friends. Then, I anticipate that their attention will be wholly taken by all the wannabes crawling out of every fucking hole in the ground, trying to fill the Connections shoes. That won’t leave them any time or resources chasing ghosts like us.” 

Mia nodded, consenting with his notion. Entering her tent - which was thankfully a proper high-tier product with an in-built AC unit of some kind - the woman plopped right on the mattress, though her gaze lingered on Sebastian’s face. Somehow, even though she should’ve known better, Mia felt like this was a face she could trust.

She felt uncharacteristically open and vulnerable at this moment. The accumulated grief and exhaustion finally reached its spilling point and she could bottle her feelings no longer.

“I just want to see Rose again some day… I just want to see my baby…just hold my dear girl close to my chest…”

Even though tearing up was the last thing she wanted to do, it was exactly what happened, complete with sobbing and shaking. Surprisingly, instead of mocking her or telling her to get her shit together, the man said nothing. 

Instead, Mia felt a pair of strong hands curling around her back. The gentle, soothing motions that followed miraculously managed to drive the despair away. That gnawing knowledge that she was all alone in the world had no hold on her heart, not when someone - anyone - displayed such compassion towards her. And maybe she would’ve been utterly disgusted if Sebastian dared to lay his filthy hands on her years ago, but now…? Now, to her utter shock, she found his touch welcome and even truly comforting.

They remained like that on the mattress, just an amoral B.O.W. peddler and a selfish monster breeder, locked in a warm embrace that brought solace to them both, for it showed them that they were not alone. 

After half a minute Sebastian pulled back, but remained on his knees as he looked at Mia with his soulful green eyes. She never truly appreciated how beautiful they were… not until today.

There was an unmistakable hint of compassion on his face and Mia was certain that it was not faked. “You will, I promise.” Sebastian paused for a second, before collecting his thoughts and providing further good news, “I have… an acquaintance working in Terrasave here. She owes me big, and I am certain I can get us smuggled to Vladivostok as soon as things with the B.S.A.A. die down a bit. There, I should still have a forger contact who should be able to provide us with new IDs. From there, we should be able to regain some freedom of movement.”

Mia could only nod in response, followed by a genuine if small smile. That sounded like a solid plan, and a solid plan was the best thing one could find in times of such chaos and uncertainty. Feeling utter exhaustion creeping in, Mia could not hold in a yawn, the sight of which made Sebastian let out a chuckle.

“I’d say that I wish that things would turn out differently and that we should just play the hand we’ve been dealt, but…” Sebastian swallowed, momentarily nervous, “...but that would not be entirely truthful, I guess.”

That was the most weird fucking sentence Mia ever heard from the conceited and self-important executive. Didn’t he just lose everything ? The accumulated prestige, all the underlings he ordered around, all the luxuries he possessed, his bank accounts and savings - all gone in a poof. Yet he didn’t appear too broken over his obliterated fortunes at this moment… instead, the man seemed almost upbeat - as if he gained something equally precious in turn.

Before she could fully process it, Sebastian stood up, made a show of dusting his jeans - an old habit of his - and proceeded to exit the tent, though not before shooting Mia a wink. 

“Get some rest.”

The curtain closed, leaving Mia alone with her many thoughts. Too tired to dwell on them further and soothed by the pleasantly chill air inside the tent, the confused fugitive merely shrugged her slender shoulders before crashing down on her mat and falling asleep in less than a minute. 

For once, her frantic mind was not tormented by countless worries, for she knew that Rose was safe and well and Ethan would continue keeping her so no matter what. And at the end of the day, that was what mattered to Mia the most.

Mia’s dreams that night were blissfully simple and quiet. Rose was the only guest that frequented them, and in it they were finally reunited - like mother and her child should be.

 

For once in a very long time, Mia Winters smiled as she slept.

 

***



September 11th, 2023 - Three months after the ‘Manhattan Outbreak’

Prague, Czech Republic

 

Chris Redfield skimmed through the digital copy of a report with bated breath, until his tired eyes finally arrived at the verdict at the end of it.

 

Mold proliferation/stability: within acceptable parameters  

 

Observations to continue. No further action is mandated.

 

The veteran let out a deep, relieved sigh as the implications sunk in. Allowing himself a short break from his virtual mountain of digital paperwork, Chris groggily staggered towards his fridge, eager for a can of ice-cold beer.

The freezing liquid that soon soothed his parched throat felt heavenly as Chris downed the can in one go before crumpling it with his powerful fingers and flinging it in the garbage bin.

Stretching his sore neck, the formidable captain allowed himself a further moment of peace as he stepped up to the window to admire the night city that was open to his gaze.

That breathtaking sight of a bustling metropolis, alive and brimming with life even so late in the evening was always something Chris found particularly inspiring. Many might take it for granted, but Chris never forgot that indisputable fact that behind every little light out there, was a human soul that sought safety from a harsh world that sometimes felt like it was out to get them all. Naturally, that thought process brought him back to his dear friend, the one he let down so many times.

Even though he was on the other side of the planet right now, just like the majority of this city’s inhabitants, Ethan Winters was once just a normal human civilian, getting by on his modest salary and hoping for a peaceful life. Unlike them, however, Ethan was exposed to a soul-crushing experience of being entangled in the barbed wire of intentional bioterrorism - the experience that should’ve utterly obliterated any ordinary civilian… yet Ethan Winters emerged all the stronger from it, though he still longed for a life of peace and love - a life Chris was determined to ensure happened. Even with the Connections dismantled and all who wished Ethan ill dead or on the run themselves, that was not as simple as one might think.

Three months ago, in that Blacksite facility near New York City, the B.S.A.A. technicians were left speechless as they tested the Ethan’s body and found it composed almost entirely of mutated mold cells. 99.1%, to be more precise - and they all mimicked the human analogues they replaced perfectly. It was a far cry from the first time Chris had chosen to cover up for his friend - back then when his mold composition was a mere 2.6% and when Mia had promised to keep an eye on him.

“What a fucking splendid job she did…”

Chris never felt himself quite as much of a fool as when Mia had revealed her true colors. She played them all like a fiddle with her half-truths and masterfully-weaved deceptions… For seemingly a thousandth time, Chris couldn’t help but briefly wonder just where the hell Mia was now. Despite their best efforts to locate and apprehend her, it seemed like the woman simply vanished from the face of Earth and now the B.S.A.A. was more or less forced to redirect their attention elsewhere.

She is smart, I’ll give her that… probably hiding out in Australia where locating her would be harder than finding a single needle in a field of stacks of hay. “Ah, to hell with Mia…”

Regardless of Mia, with Ethan’s state being as it was, it was hardly surprising that there were a number of voices that had demanded his immediate extermination, or, at the very least - an indefinite containment.

But Chris would have none of that.

Ethan’s cellular composition be damned, Chris knew that this was still the man he had met all these years ago, that same earnest, kind-hearted and good-natured man. Ethan was still the same man who would eagerly go to hell and back for his loved ones, with no obstacle being insurmountable when they were in danger. A true friend, and a father like no other.

And so, Chris had pulled on all of the strings he could, called in every favor, only to allow for Ethan to experience that bliss of peace he had fought so hard for. 

But even that was not enough for them to leave Ethan alone - the B.S.A.A. high command insisted on mandatory weekly tests and each single one of them could spell instant doom for Ethan Winters. 

If he would be found to be either contagious or unstable, there could be no freedom for Ethan, regardless of how much he had bled for it, and reluctantly Chris had to consent with that notion. One man’s freedom, no matter how hard Chris sympathized with him, could not endanger the well-being of so many others.

Chris was the one who took full responsibility for Ethan’s continued freedom and that made him the man who would be called upon to take it away, if it was proven beyond the shadow of a doubt that Ethan was dangerous for all those near him.

That is why Chris felt like the weight of the world was taken from his shoulders each time he confirmed that the worst possible scenario still did not occur - and God willing - will never occur.

Letting out a tired sigh as his no less tired gaze lazily swept across the myriad of lights, Chris willed the dark thoughts about his good friend away; instead replacing them with different ones.

After all, Ethan Winters was hardly the only object of worry that occupied Chris’ mind lately.

Now, three months after their daring action that resulted in the global uprising of Replica Platoons - with a singular directive of obliterating the Connections, the full scale of damage inflicted upon that nefarious organization was more or less clear.

The efforts of the Anti-Connection Task Force - with the so called ‘moldy gang’ at the forefront of action, were not in vain. Armed with secret knowledge provided by the late defector James Sallow and with Eveline able to hijack the psychic signal by taking over its biological host, they were able to turn on the entire Replica Force against the organization.

For all their international prowess, the Connections had little defense against legions of cloned supersoldiers sent their way. Most of their facilities relied on subterfuge rather than physical defenders to protect themselves, but even those that did not stood little chance against the tidal wave of superhuman bodies that crashed against them. For the Connections, it was like a biblical flood of old, and unfortunately for them, they had no Noah to build an ark to protect them from it.

Not a single marked facility survived the carnage of these several bloody days; the death toll of the Connections’ rank-and-file was staggering, with even some executives falling prey to the unexpected assault. Their lines of supplies were utterly ruined as well, leaving little hope for those remaining to pick up the pieces.

In a single stroke, the Connections were obliterated, leaving behind top managers and their closest lackeys - but even these found their international deposits frozen and a global manhunt like no other declared for their heads. The vast majority of the Connections’ middle management and even the elusive Council of Twelve were either dead or behind iron bars; with only occasional hold-outs like Mia and her handler Sebastian still out in the wind.

But even beyond the mortal damage they inflicted upon the Connections, the fallout of Replica going on a rampage led to a downfall of Armacham Technology Corporation, as well. 

Seeing how their Replica soldiers worldwide suddenly abandoned their posts and went on their way to murder and destroy had a profound impact on all those who had a stake in the company. Contracts were broken, investors pulled out and legal action was taken, leading to the mega-corporation declaring bankruptcy a mere month later; with their CEO found dead in her own office - the cause of death being a self-inflicted gunshot to the cranium.

Likewise, faced with the death of their leadership and indisputable accusations hurled their way, the United Nations had no choice but to launch a massive internal investigation, aimed at rooting out the remaining corruption within and returning the international organization to its noble origins.  Naturally, under pressure from the interested parties, the acting Secretary-General swiftly removed Ethan and Dimitrescus from the U.N. Most Wanted list, citing that the old corrupt management had a personal vendetta against the innocent group due to them possessing compromising information on the former.

As far as Chris was concerned, all this was a huge win for Ethan in particular and against the evil of their world in general; but it hardly brought the War against Bioterrorism to a definitive end - but it did much to expose the deep roots of the corruption that took hold in their world. Unfortunately for them all, a great many people chose to focus their limited attention on the flashiest event, rather than the underlying causes that led to it being possible in the first place.

The Bloodfang’s outrageous attack against the citizens of New York was as sudden as it was bloody. Over thirty thousand confirmed dead, with ten thousand more declared missing - the people were crying out for vengeance against that terrorist organization in particular.

Moreover, once the info about B.S.A.A.’s operation against the Connections were leaked, a new accusation against the international guarantor of safety was leveraged - that in their dogged chase against the Connections they failed to note the preparations Bloodfang took before their fateful attack.

There was some painful truth in that accusation, but overall it appeared laughable to Chris, as he knew well that people like Bloodfang were armed to the teeth precisely by organizations such as the Connections, yet under enormous public pressure (which was further egged on by interested parties on social media), one month ago B.S.A.A. had no choice but fully refocus their attention on the Bloodfang, to the detriment of their ongoing hunt for the remnants of Connections as well - and more importantly - the chase for those who had a stake in it.

Today, little was done to indict the powerful associates of the Connections, despite their identities being known both from Sallow’s reports and B.S.A.A.’s own cross-reference efforts. The lawyers of these influential figures threatened legal action for merely mentioning the so-called ‘circumstantial evidence’ the organization possessed, and with the debacle that was the Manhattan crisis, B.S.A.A. had no choice but to let most of them go.

Chris could not abide that.

These powerful men and women might not have been a direct part of the Connections, but that whole organization was possible in the first place due to their deep pockets and insatiable desires. These highly influential people - CEOs of pharmaceutical and PMC corporations, Ministers of Defense, Chiefs of Staff and even some local warlords were all responsible for funding the Connections’ R&D and production efforts. They were the ones who ordered the monsters in the first place… and the vast majority of them were walking scot free as B.S.A.A. found it ‘infeasible to pursue further legal action in the current political climate.’

What was even more concerning were the reports from the newly developed Crisis Prevention wing of the B.S.A.A.

According to the wing’s sources, perhaps emboldened by their apparent immunity, many of these businessmen and politicians now turned to the Connections’ many rivals - who were eagerly claiming the void left behind by the aforementioned superorganization’s demise. Nothing was done about all but the most egregious of these cases, as the tentative evidence they possessed was simply not enough to get through the walls of lawyers they surrounded themselves with.

And so the world moved on… it would not be long before another organization took over the late Connection’s role completely at this rate. A year or two, and they would have another international peddler of B.O.W.s on their hands, and there was little anyone could do about it. Nothing legal, anyway.

In light of it all, Chris had finally turned in his badge and resigned from active service, keeping only an advisory position as well as his promise to handle Ethan, if it ever came to that. He did so with regret, as Chris remembered all the good things he had managed to achieve in the organization, but also acceptance, as he realized that he had achieved as much as was possible while constrained by the limitations of B.S.A.A.

Nevertheless, turning in his badge hardly meant that Chris would spend his evenings on his coach, watching footballs and guzzling beer. His remarkable expertise was still much thought for and his advisory role for the B.S.A.A. for more than just for show.

But more than anything else, Chris Redfield was determined to bring a lasting era of peace to his world, so that children could grow up without the fear of outbreaks always looming over them. He could not hope to do that while working within the tight legal framework, therefore he started working an angle of his own.

Some would call him a radicalized extremist for what he had planned; a murderer, but Chris found himself resolute to make sure that the hand of justice would reach those who had eluded it for so long while tainting the world with their insatiable greed. He has had enough of fighting monsters and terrorists on the ground, it was time to reach out to grab their many sponsors by the throat.

Were they aware of his plans, many of his own colleagues would feel like the brave B.S.A.A. Captain had finally gone insane after all the accumulated trauma, but that would not stop Chris from wishing to excise the cancer that had afflicted his world for so long.

Fortunately for Chris, there were a number of like-minded people who offered their silent support to his carefully-worded proposition. While naturally unable to openly embrace such an unlawful method, Leon Kennedy knew that sometimes one needed to get dirty to get things done. And that was something that absolutely had to be done, if they wanted to preserve the fragile peace that settled after the fall of the Connections.

Chris had the names of the people who had to go , he had the resources to commit to this course and he most definitely had the needed resolve to see it through. But he was but one man against the many influential economical, military and political leaders of this world, all of them with formidable bodyguards and PMC guarding their worthless lives; some even totting entire private armies. For all his jaw-dropping achievements, Chris was not delusional enough to think that he could handle it on his own.

Therefore, for the last month, Chris Redfield searched far and wide among his extensive list of contacts for suitable men and women who could potentially join his little crusade. Today, he had finally called for the meeting with his first potential recruits, to be held in two hours in this rented flat. 

 

A sudden presence brought Chris out of his grim musings and his hand immediately but subtly reached for his concealed sidearm - a well-honed reflex that has saved his life more than once.

As swiftly as it tensed, Chris' arm relaxed as he recognized the tell-tale sound of oh-so-familiar buzzing behind him, which soon was replaced by soft breathing. Its warmth tingled the hairs on the back of his neck - it was a pleasant feeling.

They had this little ritual repeating for the last two months, but Chris still found himself quite willing to indulge into it, so he did nothing as two slender arms circled around his midsection while a hot tongue started to softly lick at the nape of his neck.

The ministrations continued for several moments, but Chris did not move an inch, though he was quite aware of his swiftly growing arousal, as well as a modicum of annoyance that his instruction to use the damn door went unheeded once again. I should really start locking the damn window…

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of teasing, the wet tongue stopped, only to be replaced by a haughty voice, so sure of its owner’s superiority.

“You are tense, Chris.”

“Maybe you should unwind me then,” Chris shot back in an instant. A bit tired from her games and knowing from experience that she could play them all evening, Chris easily broke through her admittedly impressive hold, before turning around to face the intruder. His eyes swiftly took in her whole frame, starting from her fashionable fur boots, going up her curve-hugging denim jeans and stylish black leather jacket, all the way to her grinning face.

Expectedly, her full lips were black as night and her flowing brunette locks framed her perfect face in the manner she was so fond of - long from the right side, short from the left. A spark of mischief in her amber orbs was unable to fully conceal her own growing arousal as she took a gaze at the bulge in his pants.

Someone is happy to see me…” A delicate index finger performed a light caress against his cheek, while a pink tongue traveled from edge to edge of her black lips, so teasingly slowly. At her gentle touch and teasing performance, Chris was unable to suppress a shudder of excitement, causing her to let out a light giggle.

In this moment, as he stared upon her gorgeous face and her athletic yet feminine figure, a different kind of force took over Chris Redfield. Far from being a selfless hero of his past, or a ruthless punisher of his potential future, this force took the shape of primordial, purely selfish lust.

Unable and - more importantly - unwilling to stop himself, Chris smashed his coarse lips against her own in a savage kiss of brutal passion, even as his powerful arms took possessive hold of her graceful body. 

The woman in his arms - if Cassandra Dimitrescu could even be categorized as a woman - instantly reciprocated with ferocious desire of her own, nibbling on his own lips and enjoying both the taste of their kiss as well as drops of his blood as her arms roamed across his back.

Neither in the mood for foreplay, the closest sofa was chosen to act as a support for their latest act of wild passion. Somewhere deep in the back of his mind, Chris was actually surprised that its seemingly flimsy construction was able to withstand the impact; much less the intense sex that followed.

And their passion for each other was intense indeed, with this latest copulating session including more than one pose and several penetrations, with fervent kissing, biting and groping in between. Despite this activity repeating itself a great many times in the last two months, they still simply could not get enough of each other. 

Only after they were able to get the excess desire out of their systems and thoroughly worn each other out did the clarity of thought return to Chris, while Cassandra simply rested on her belly.

Inspecting the smooth contours of Cassandra’s bare back as he lightly pawed at it, Chris couldn’t help but reflect upon the strange twist of fate that brought them together like this, even after the adventure with Dimitrescu was over.

Just like Chris had decided to take responsibility for Ethan, so did the Duke took charge over the Dimitrescu family, promising to keep an eye on them in return for B.S.A.A. abstaining from taking hostile actions against the vampiric clan. More than that even, the Duke pulled some strings and had a proper Romanian citizenship granted to all four members of that strange family (or, in Alcina’s case, had it re started, to the absolute shock of the officials involved). In that regard, it certainly helped that the majority of Dimitrescu victims - the unfortunate villagers of that forgotten valley were under no legal jurisdiction other than Miranda’s own and therefore they were legally dead to the world anyway. Other victims - the lost tourists or kidnapped locals from the outlying regions were only vaguely tied to the whole mess, and therefore, the Duke was able to pin them all on late Miranda, to Dimitrescu's delight.

Barring a couple of minor exceptions, the Dimitrescu family was effectively free to do whatever they wanted and travel wherever they wanted, within the boundaries of the law, of course. Not one of them, not even the bloodthirsty middle daughter, argued when the consensus was reached that the family would leave their murderous ways firmly in the past, never to revisit it, not unless an absolutely necessity demanded it.

For the first month after their newfound freedom, the Dimitrescu family (also Sarah and later Haru - of whom Alcina took legal custody of) settled back in their ancestral castle in the forgotten valley, with plenty of local villagers eagerly signing a contract to work for a rich countess as maids and servants. With some apprehension, the Romanian officials had revisited that forgotten valley to reinstate the castle’s legal status as the property of Dimitrescu family.

Thanks to the efforts of dozens of paid workers from a company recommended by the Duke, the neglected castle was swiftly and efficiently transformed into a lively place fit for a noble family once again, though it did not take long before the daughters sought to test the scope of their freedom beyond its boundaries. The wider world called for them, and all three daughters answered its call.

Claiming that she was following her heart, Bela decided to move in with Ethan and Rose and that little family settled in - at least for now - in a small suburban house in Los Angeles, back in the United States.

Daniela, ever afflicted by wanderlust, somehow managed to convince her overbearing mother to permit her to tour the whole wide world, with just Tom for companionship. The duo should be somewhere in Egypt by now, likely admiring the pyramids before settling out to explore other monuments of humanity as well as natural wonders that hid in the nooks of their world.

Likewise, Cassandra had clearly decided to continue her unhealthy relationship with Chris Redfield and now followed him wherever he went - not that he complained too much about that. An occasional grunt of protest or a word of displeasure was about as much as he was willing to provide when Cassandra violated his private space in public - and the brunette vampire so loved to test his boundaries. She reveled in the attention Chris paid her, as well as that of those around them. Not all of it was positive, though that seemed to only encourage her further.

In turn, Chris realized full well that this whole thing they had was just plain wrong on so many levels. 

He had dedicated his life to combating the bioterrorism, while she was a murderous B.O.W. herself. He was a proponent of Order, while she was an agent of Chaos. That’s not even to mention something more superficial but still glaring like that fact that she appeared almost young enough to be his daughter, even if in truth he was the younger partner in the relationship.

Chris knew that there were many things that plainly told him that they could never be together. 

Chris also knew that he did not give a fuck about any of them.

It might sound cheesy if he says it out-loud, but Chris just felt like Cassandra completed him - something that she also felt in turn, he was sure. Her careless selfishness was a perfect supplement to his duty bound ways; her unquenchable passion for life was akin to water beating against the rock that was his jaded outlook on it all - slowly softening it up. Chris was happy being with Cassandra, regardless of how twisted their relationship appeared from the outside.

People might be speaking behind their backs about how wildly inappropriate their weird fling is, but at this point in his life Chris found himself lacking care for what others - even those close to him - thought about what his personal life should be. Not that those closest to him were particularly judgemental about his surprising choice in a partner. 

Claire was shockingly supportive of his choice, even if she did appear nauseated whenever she would come for a visit and Cassandra would launch into a sickeningly self-absorbed tirade about all the spots she and Claire’s brother had sex on, while not going easy on the details. Naturally Cassandra was not allowed to torture anyone anymore, but apparently pushing people’s buttons was the next best thing for her.

Likewise, Jill appeared genuinely happy that Chris was finally able to move past the trainwreck of their own relationship… It probably helped quite a bit that her old friend Carlos suddenly resurfaced in her life as soon as he heard about the crippling injury Jill sustained during the operation in France. There was definitely some bad blood between Carlos and Chris now, seeing the evil eye the former kept throwing at the latter, but Chris figured that he deserved it, so he held no ill will towards the Hispanic man - instead, he was determined to move past it as well and perhaps eventually forge a new friendship. Despite once being employed by Umbrella, Carlos Oliveira was a good man to his core and Chris was not opposed to the notion of him and Jill getting together. In fact, Chris was beyond joyful at the notion that Jill would finally find a slice of happiness of her own - something that few deserved as much as that selfless woman and something Chris himself could not provide.

Still, regardless of everyone else, just as Chris marveled at the softness of Cassandra’s skin underneath his rough fingers, he now wondered at how easily he was able to accept this violent murderer into his own life.

Even when she, gripped by sensual passion, secretly confessed to him about her serial killings in Cuba - during the supposedly peaceful interval in the Dimitrescu family life, Chris found himself accepting her and rationalizing that most of these scumbags deserved to die anyway.

Even when she admitted that she was not sure how long she would be able to keep herself from killing again, Chris found himself determined not to let her go, as he had held on to her smaller hands with both of his; his weary blue eyes peering into her soul through her golden orbs. More than anything else, perhaps it was guidance Cassandra needed in life - an important goal she could focus her frenetic energy on… and perhaps Chris could provide just that.

In yet another twist of fate, Chris realized that he was quite happy with the notion of Cassandra following him along on this perilous path he was about to take. It was fitting, he rationalized.

Ethan and Bela might find the everlasting peace they so dearly hoped for, but peace was not for everyone. Peace had to be maintained; fought for. For Rose and a billion other innocent children to grow carefree and happy, a certain few had to hold a constant vigil, ever ready to combat those who sought to challenge this fragile peace of theirs - with deadly force, if necessary.

Chris and Cassandra would continue to walk the road of violence, and in it, Chris would continue forging redemption for Cassandra - a thing she secretly craved almost as much as blood and sex, even if she would never admit so out loud. 

Cassandra may never be able to fully leave her sadistic inclinations behind, but if they could be diverted towards extreme yet ultimately benign intentions, perhaps that would be enough for her. Perhaps it would be enough for both of them.

Just like she had helped cause chaos and evil with her deeds in her service to Miranda, so will she bring order and goodness into the world by eliminating those who truly deserved it, alongside Chris. 

The old Chris would’ve scoffed at the very notion that it was possible to find redemption with yet more cold-blooded murder, but the battle-weary Chris of today knew that sometimes you just had to get dirt and blood under your nails to get things done. Not everything could be resolved by kind words alone - a fact he had regretfully accepted long ago.

By chance, his gaze fell upon his watches - haphazardly discarded on the nearby nightstand, making him cease his ministrations of her back.

It was all too easy to lose track of time in the throes of their passion for each other, but now Chris could recall with perfect clarity that people upon whom he would like to make a favorable impression will arrive shortly. Considering the grim nature of their potential partnership it would be undue of him to meet them naked and sweaty, while covered in black lipstick and raw lovebites. 

Ever dutiful, Chris did not hesitate in disentangling himself from his partner, though not before gracing a sensitive spot upon her upper back with a single yet particularly tender - uncharacteristically so, even - kiss.

While she never stated so, for all the ferocity of their lovemaking, Cassandra greatly enjoyed more subtle, tender signs of his affection for her. The dreamy sigh of contentment that escaped her lips only served to confirm that theory for Chris as he hurried to take a quick shower, reinvigorated and ready to take on the whole damn world if he had to.

For Chris Redfield, the unending War on Bioterror went on, yet somehow it was able to gain a certain blissful quality - now with his newest partner on his side.

 

***

 

November 13th, 2023 - Five months after the ‘Manhattan Outbreak’

Maui, Hawaii

 

Gazing down at the two people he loved so much, Ethan Winters couldn’t be any happier. His feelings today were a far-cry from the creeping loneliness he went through in the intervening month immediately after the shitstorm in New York died down.

Back then, when he had held his dear child and shared a loving kiss with Bela Dimitrescu, he thought that he had overcome his final challenge by besting Paxton Fettel and the life of peace and bliss had been finally within his reach.

He was not entirely wrong, but not entirely correct, either.

Bela, as well as the rest of the Dimitrescu family had decided to move back to their ancestral castle in Romania for the time being, and while Ethan and Rose were invited to join them there, there were simply too many bad memories of that place for Ethan to accept the invitation; not to mention his desire to restart his ordinary, boring life - something he could not do from the middle of Romanian nowhere.

Instead, the father had taken advantage of the Duke’s generosity and found himself in possession of a small yet tidy house in the suburbs of Los Angeles - not that far from a flat he had rented all these years ago, as a matter of what.

In hindsight, that decision turned out to be a mistake, as soon after settling in his new house, Ethan was approached by a dangerous group of people wearing B.S.A.A. badges. They carried no firearms and spoke no open threats, yet what they had was the next worst thing - a pile of documents he was forced to sign - legal papers that not only obliged him to attend a mandatory full body check ups on a weekly basis, but also restricted his mobility to a point where he could not even legally leave the city limits without the organization’s written permission. He might no longer be on the UN's Most Wanted, but it still felt awfully restrictive to Ethan. Not even his good friend Chris could do anything about it, merely asking Ethan to bear with it for the time being.

Doing just that, Ethan did not let sour note detract him from his original plan and the rest of June and the majority of July were spent trying to pick up the pieces of his old life - to find a new place of employment, to reignite old acquaintances and friendships he had with the people in the area. Getting back into the rhythm of an ordinary life was far harder than he’d thought it would be… and so very… terribly lonely. Ethan was sure that without Rose by his side it would’ve been unbearable.

The first week was the worst and not a single day went by where Ethan would not miss Bela’s presence at his side and not a single night passed with him being spared of the most livid and most terrible of nightmares imaginable. He would not dare to unburden himself of them on Rose, though the empathetic child still did everything in her efforts to soothe her insomniac father.

The evenings were spent with Ethan struggling to brush up on his rusty skills as systems engineer in a bid to make himself competitive on today’s market once again, while Rose busied herself in practicing her own chosen craft - that of drawing. Again, Ethan could peer at her works with nothing short of astonishment - he would’ve never expected a three-year old child to be able to draw with that much clarity and attention to detail. Her talent was undeniable, yet Ethan still wished to see less monsters in her drawings, as God knows they both encountered enough of those to last them a lifetime. Still, the child’s and father’s bond only deepened due to their shared passion for art, with Ethan eagerly sharing everything he knew with his beloved daughter and Rose even more eagerly taking it all in. Nevertheless, both Ethan and Rose missed the company of others dearly - it felt unusual to be on their own after spending so much time with the vibrant personalities they had been surrounded with.

The second week turned out to be more bearable, as Bela - thanks to the Duke’s efforts, naturally - managed to reach out to him. First by simple telephone, soon after digitally. Spending literal hours on the phone with Bela brought unspeakable solace to the weary father, and hearing her gentle voice before retiring for the night managed to soothe the nightmare away, at least partially. To then see her gorgeous face, softened even further by her affection for him, made his soul soar in joy. Naturally, Rose loved to chit-chat with Bela as well and vice versa.

But still, the lack of physical contact was something that grinded on both Ethan and Bela, and they have exchanged more than a couple of conversations that would’ve made them blush if any third party would become privy to them. Thankfully, Rose was usually sound asleep when these happened. Of course, these could not replace real intimacy.

More than once did Ethan consider just dropping everything - including his newest civilian work contract, grabbing Rose and rushing all the way to that accursed castle despite the dark memories of that place or his signed obligations to keep to the bounds of California. Bela’s calm but insistent urges to show restraint; as well as her promise of an ‘imminent surprise’ made the man sit tight where he was.

 

The ‘surprise’ came to stand before his door in the late evening, two weeks later - well into July - and Ethan struggled to pick his jaw from the floor as he gazed upon Bela Dimitrescu herself, dressed in a casual curve-hugging outfit and smiling upon him with both adoration and mischief. Poor Rose - who Ethan was sure was asleep by that time - could only wonder why the furniture was creaking so loudly that night.

After that point, things started to look up more and more with each passing day. Ethan, Bela and Rose spent a great many hours simply walking through the grand metropolis, exploring every nook and cranny with seemingly unending curiosity or endurance from the latter two - and the bliss from the former one. Bela’s curiosity about the outside world, the customs of its human inhabitants and even the overarching nature seemed truly insatiable, with Rose eagerly following her stepmother-like figure along in their exploration of the world. In turn, Ethan was only too happy to oblige the girls, sharing what wisdom and knowledge he himself possessed with no restraint. Bela, in particular, appeared utterly entranced by this modern human city as she could now explore it without chaos of violence to accompany her.

Ethan was pretty sure that they had managed to visit the majority of establishments of Los Angeles - some of which not exactly fit for Rose’s young eyes, making them leave the young girl with a temporary babysitter for an hour or two. Cafes, restaurants, night clubs, theaters, cinemas, concerts - these and a great deal of other venues were all attended by Bela and Ethan. Considering the monetary toll it all took, it was quite fortunate that Ethan still had some of his savings and Bela had access to her family’s deposit.

It was no surprise that these days were filled with pure bliss for both Ethan and Bela, as they toured Los Angeles for everything it was worth. Indeed, while Bela finally felt herself free as a bird - a fact she took endless joy from, Ethan felt himself as a young, carefree man straight from a collage once again - with nothing but a bright future ahead of him.

Of course, their paradise-like life was somewhat marred by limitations imposed upon Ethan - and Bela, to a lesser extent - by the B.S.A.A. watchdogs, but even the mandatory testing Ethan was subject to eventually became less tedious and the implications of surveillance more bearable. In that regard, it helped a lot that upon October 1st, Ethan’s mandatory weekly sessions became monthly, as well as his travel ban being partially lifted, to encompass the whole U.S. 

Internally, Ethan knew full well what the B.S.A.A. agents were concerned with - the composition of mold his body consisted of, and whether he could become a dangerous vector for infection - that’s why he did not protest the papers he signed in the first place, after all. He had no desire to spread his moldy spores to others and that’s why he was so exulted when the restrictions upon him slackened - implying that the specialists at the B.S.A.A. started to consider him stable enough to the point where he was no danger to others. While he naturally craved freedom, the last thing Ethan wanted was to be a danger to others.

Bela shared his joy at the development, naturally. The trips they then made outside the city included picnics, the discovery of local natural and man-made sights, visits to nearby towns that Ethan knew had something noteworthy and wanted to share it with Bela and Rose, as well as more generic wanderings without any specific goal beyond soaking each other's presence in. It seemed like they could simply not get enough of each other.

In their sudden desire to explore the surrounding world they were quite similar to Daniela - who kept sending them lovely postcards from all over the world - though a bit more limited, considering they have yet to leave the state of California, while the redhead was on her world-wide tour. Ethan had a plan to rectify that a little, however.

An acquaintance of his, an experienced travel agent, recommended Ethan to take his child and the significant other to an island in the state of Hawaii - Maui. She had assured him that it's ‘just splendid!’ in November, since both the sea was warm, the weather pleasant and the trickle of tourists diminished compared to more popular summer and winter seasons. A romantic trip like no other. Ethan was only too eager to hop on board that idea; with a little ‘extra’ on top. It was a bit of a hassle to negotiate the vacation with his newest civilian employer considering how brief his actual tenure was, but even that hurdle was soon overcome and an accord reached.

For Ethan, this would be more than a simple vacation. It was about moving forward as much as it was about having a good time with his loved ones, if not more so. 

While Ethan would never truly forget about Mia, the man was finally ready to move past their old relationship completely. He bore no ill-will towards his former wife, and indeed, even wished for her to find happiness if that was at all possible, but Ethan also desired to forge a new connection with Bela, perhaps even stronger than the one he once had with Mia. And Ethan was prepared to make the steps needed for that.

When Bela had learnt of his intent to take their strange little ‘family unit’ to what was, effectively, a vacation on a sunny beach, she quite literally soared up until the ceiling, before falling into his waiting arms to exchange yet another kiss full of passion and affection; with her amber orbs blazing with unbridled joy.

And while Ethan liked to fancy that he played a large part in Bela’s elated state, he knew that the eldest Dimitrescu sibling - much like the rest of them - was beyond happy at finally being a part of the world that was denied them for so very long. One could argue that they got the first taste of it during their lengthy tenure in Cuba, but even there the Dimitrescu family was merely an isolated bunch of hermits - stuck on their tiny patch of land and rarely interacting even with the members of the local backward community, much less anyone in the wider world. The constant fear of being discovered and exterminated was far too great to risk that.

But now? Now they were finally unbound from the sins of their past, with the only ghosts of their atrocities remaining in their memories - but lacking physical shapes in the world that has forgiven them. A world that has given them a second chance; a blank slate, complete with quasi-legitimate citizenship and the true freedom to move where they please, to interact with whoever they want and to love those they desire to.

As long as they obeyed the law, took pains to conceal the unnatural aspects of their existence and submitted to minor and reasonable check-ups by B.S.A.A., they were free to live their lives in peace and happiness. An outcome none of them dared to even dream about, years ago. Something that even now they were not sure they deserved for the crimes of their past - a notion Ethan did his best to dismiss.

 

And so, on this beautiful sunny day, on this no-less beautiful tropical paradise, Bela was free to enjoy the goods things life had to offer: gentle warmth; bountiful sunlight; soothing sea; fairy-chill (about as chill as her physiology could take safely), moderately alcoholic beverages and last but not least - the loving presence of both Ethan and Rose nearby.

And Ethan was free to roam his gaze across Bela’s slender body and fair features - not that anyone could blame him. With an hourglass figure, long blonde locks of hair flowing down her graceful shoulders, Bela was a beauty almost out of this world. Even her skin, which used to be deathly gray, now adopted a more lively shade of muted pink after the continuous exposure to direct sunlight. 

Where she once had a horrific Cadou scar, was nothing but a tiny uneven line nowadays - hidden behind her long hair most of the time - the warm Cuban sun saw to that, as Bela had explained to Ethan when he had expressed curiosity about it, since he did recall Bela having a scar back in Romania. Seemed like only the perpetual chill of the Carpathian mountains was preventing that wound from fully healing.

Two years in Cuba was enough to make up for the decades of cold Romanian mountains for the elder Dimitrescu daughter, however, and the woman would take every chance she could get to expose herself to the warmth of the tropical sun. Bela even fancied eventually getting a tan, though Ethan was quite an admirer of her current pale yet healthy complexion - not that he thought he would stop finding her attractive if she actually managed to get a darker hue, of course.

Nevertheless, the blonde woman took her sun safety tips seriously on account of her skin being quite vulnerable to solar radiation - even more so than that of an average pale-skinned human. Ethan, being the gentleman that he was, was only too happy to aid the lady in peril by rubbing the generous portions of sunscreen onto her back. Perhaps his motions as he did so were a tad slow and maybe his fingers lingered on her soft skin for a bit too long, but Bela was not complaining as she gleefully soaked the affection both from the gentle sun above her and the loving man behind her. Never one to hoard happiness all to herself, Bela was eager to share the joy by returning the favor to the Winters family by carefully applying that same sunscreen to Rose’s tiny body that rested on her knees.

Bela’s interactions with Rose were not limited to merely protecting her from the sun's glare. Even as Ethan decided to further hone his body by swimming long distance, he could spy with his keen eye the way the duo entertained themselves in his absence, regardless of how short it was. 

There they were, building a cute little sandcastle together after having their fill of splashing around near the shore. As if feeling Ethan’s loving gaze on her, Bela’s blonde head perked up before turning in his direction; her slender arm extended in a carefree wave, something that Rose repeated soon after, with Ethan naturally returning one of his own. There were not many moments in his life when Ethan felt as happy or fulfilled as he did now; Rose’s birth and salvation were the examples of such, but all of them included something more than just himself, today being no exception.

Seeing the way Bela treat Rose with such affection and tenderness was nothing short of heart-melting for Ethan. Rosemary Winters was most definitely not Bela Dimitrescu’s real daughter, yet a random observer could not be faulted for assuming the opposite just by looking at the unfolding scene: both Rose’s and Bela’s face expressed contentment that one would struggle to find outside the embrace of a person you truly care for. For Ethan the sight was particularly moving - the knowledge that the two people you love the most in the whole wide world having such a harmonic relationship is a source of endless joy on its own.

But even more than a source of joy, this knowledge served as the final validation for Ethan’s chosen course. The last four months, filled with naught but endless love and boundless happiness, all lead to one moment - one moment that was drawing close. One moment that would confirm Ethan’s and Bela’s desire to tie the threads of their lives into a single knot. 

After all the heartbreak and seemingly endless strife, Ethan was naturally somewhat hesitant about summoning this special moment forth, but now he had no doubts that the three of them: Ethan, Rose and Bela all wanted to enter a new chapter of their lives together, hand in hand. The love and affection they all shared for each other could not be faked.

 

Therefore, today, on the last day of their vacation, when little Rosie was comfortably tucked in and the adults went on their starlit walk, Ethan found himself determined to do something he had only done once in his life before.

The stroll on the paved path that led to the sandy beach was a fitting conclusion to the otherwise lively and eventful day - unhurried and quiet. Just the two of them, leisurely walking down the path hand-in-hand, with nothing but gentle sounds of sea to add to the calm silence. For now, there was no need for words, as both of them found themselves simply enjoying each other's presence on this still novel peaceful turn their life has finally taken.

Once again, Ethan was not above stealing an occasional glance at his beloved bug-vampire as they walked. Most of her stunning figure was partially concealed by a thin, semi-transparent cover-up dress, but even where it covered them, it did little to hide the delightful contours of her toned arms, slender waist or long legs. A gorgeous magenta orchid was tucked behind Bela’s left ear, while her beloved ruby necklace decorated her delicate neck.

Though they have spent quite some time together already, Bela has not become any less of a joy to behold for Ethan’s eyes. She was truly a beautiful person, both outwardly and within, and Ethan still couldn’t believe his luck that fate saw fit to bring them together like that, especially during such calamitous times.

Merely walking together with her while simply holding hands was enough to fill the man with unbridled joy. Unconsciously, the man squeezed her soft hand just a little harder - a gesture she immediately reciprocated. In a grand scheme of things, this was such a tiny thing that it would be hardly worthy of note, yet Ethan still drew a no short amount of comfort from it. 

It felt like nothing could sever that unbreakable bond that he had forged with Bela; nothing could hope to threaten Rose while both of them together were there to protect her. It was no longer a mere illusion of safety in Ethan’s mind as far as his and Rose’s fates were concerned - it was a certainty for as long as Bela was there. And she had no plans to leave his side any time soon. 

At the end of the paved path Bela paused only to discard her sandals, allowing her bare feet to gently touch the sandy ground on their next steps. Even as he followed her example, Ethan’s eyes did not fail to see the way Bela’s toes curled, as if she tried to grasp as many of the still-warm pebbles as was possible. While mostly cooled since the sundown, they still held a ghost of the pleasant warmth that imbued them during the sunny day.

The man realized that in many ways this was the very definition of heaven for Bela Dimitrescu - she had told Ethan that much the other night, when she had awoken from a particularly vivid nightmare - with Ethan naturally right there to provide all the comfort the distraught woman needed. That nightmare, Bela had confided to him - was among the most dreaded ones she had ever had, for it was all too real to her. The notion that this whole new life of hers; all the freedom and love in it - was merely a dream and that she would wake up back in the cold dark castle - under Miranda’s colder still gaze and surrounded by little more than death and misery, with only her beloved family to keep herself from completely surrendering to madness was a constant fear for Bela. Even though the full depth of that horrible, decades-long experience was beyond Ethan, the man could still relate well enough to be able to soothe that fear away; though only time could hope to dismiss it for good - for both of them.

Tonight, Ethan was determined to offer that promise of time to Bela, but it was up to her to accept it. Moving past the horrors of their former lives was a challenge like none other, but perhaps together they could accomplish just that.

“What a breath-taking sight…”

Even in the silence of the surrounding area, Bela’s softly-whispered exclamation sounded quiet, yet the emotion of it was undeniable. Still holding onto her smaller palm, Ethan followed the woman’s gaze to stare at the night sky and the infinite stars in it. The clarity of the myriad of lights out there was truly spectacular today, with not a single cloud or a source of interfering light in sight.

Ethan felt himself sharing Bela’s sentiment as he continued to stare into the sky, while gently caressing Bela’s soft hand with his own. With his peripheral sight he could see a small smile blooming on her face from his ministrations.

Slightly tilting her head in his direction, the woman’s lips parted to share her astrological knowledge, “Today is the New Moon. There is no better time to simply stop and look up.”

Ethan suddenly recalled their wholesome stargazing session on top of the Duke’s yacht, but even then the sky was not this perfectly clear. Truly, it felt like the whole wide galaxy was in the palm of his hand tonight. “It’s… beautiful…”

Satisfied that he shared her love for the stars, Bela turned her head even further towards him, a lovely smile playing on her full pink lips. Her next words had a hint of introspective pondering in them, completed with just a tad of playfulness - making Ethan somewhat afraid that she was onto him all this time.

“Many believe that the New Moon represents new beginnings… a good time to plant the seeds of our future, don’t you think so, Ethan?”

Slightly nervous but still fully committed to his chosen course, Ethan swallowed and wetted his lips before giving a small nod and responding in a surprisingly confident voice, “Indeed I do, Bela.” This was not the time or the place for her affectionate ‘Bells’ nickname.

The woman finally looked at him fully; her interest piqued by his somber tone. By her raised eyebrow and parting lips Ethan could tell that she was about to say something, possibly inquire about his current tense stature, but he gave her no opportunity to do so by his next frenetic motions.

Firmly but gently breaking their handhold Ethan swiftly moved to stand in front of her before turning around and getting down on his left knee. For just a second, Ethan peered at the red woven bracelet around Bela’s right ankle. Somehow, that simple but elegant accessory helped Ethan focus his body and mind. The man took a deep breath while slowly shifting his gaze to Bela’s own eyes; he knew that the next moment would be one to remember, regardless of the outcome.

In turn, even though Bela had likely expected something monumental to occur in this moment in time due to Ethan’s behavior prior, the shock of actually being confronted with it in reality must have been quite dazing for the woman, as her whole body froze, with her lips still parted and wide eyes locked with Ethan’s own.

Not one to waste such a special moment by letting the increasing pressure get the best of him, Ethan procured a tiny box from the back pocket of his shorts and with deft movements managed to both open it and offer its contents to the woman in front of him. At the very same time, the words that left his suddenly dry lips made sure that there would be no way back - only forward.

“Bela Dimitrescu…” Bela’s beautiful golden eyes widened even further. She knew what was coming next, but for once her rational mind was utterly overwhelmed by emotions, making it quite hard to process it.

 

“Will you marry me?”

 

Bela remained frozen for a second further, but then came the reaction that was quite unexpected to Ethan - though in hindsight he shouldn’t have been too surprised, given his knowledge of Dimitrescu daughters’ unique biology and prior experience.

Bela’s whole body flickered and shimmered, and where was a woman a second ago was only a buzzing swarm of flies whose collective shapes strongly resembled a female silhouette.

The peculiar transformation did not last long and in a couple of seconds the flies came together to fully form a seemingly normal-looking human woman once again. An uninitiated man might have been frightened or repulsed by the arcane display; or at the very least, saw their special moment ruined.

Ethan, while somewhat surprised, was definitely not repulsed in the least, however - he had accepted Bela Dimitrescu for what she was long ago, after all. If not for his rampaging nerves, Ethan would’ve even chuckled at her otherworldly antics.

A bit red in the face from embarrassment, Bela nevertheless quickly regained control of her faculties and after spending one more second to assess the situation and confirm that she was not dreaming, fell right on her knees in a bid to even out the eye-levels between them.

Tears trickled down her cheeks but her lips were parted in a smile that radiated pure bliss. Ethan knew her answer even before she spoke it, though her words still sent unspeakable joy soaring through his moldy heart.

 

“Yes!” To Ethan it felt like her gorgeous golden eyes were brighter and more beautiful than any of the stars in the sky above. 

 

A little more in control of her own voice, she repeated herself, with even more certainty this time.

 

“Yes… Yes, I will, Ethan Winters.”

 

The tension was gone in a heartbeat, purged utterly from Ethan’s body, to be replaced by the feelings of rupture and solace. Though it was quite a struggle to tear his gaze from her enchanting amber orbs, Ethan did so for just a second to grab the contents of the tiny box - a beautiful ring of white gold with a diamond-cut, one carat ruby as its centerpiece - before gently placing it on her delicate left ring finger.

In turn, Bela clearly struggled to decide whether she wanted to continue staring at Ethan or switch her gaze towards the precious stone that now adorned her finger. After a brief back-and-forth, her erratic gaze finally settled on the ring. The hue and the clarity of the gem in it seemingly matched the one in her necklace perfectly and for a second Bela was utterly awestruck at how thoughtful Ethan was with the engagement ring. 

A further moment was spent gazing down at the symbol of Ethan’s love and devotion for her; Bela has had enough of it for the time being. No matter how beautiful it was or how well it fit her, for the foreseeable future she would have eyes only for her fiancé himself.

Their gazes reconnected and their fingers intertwined. Ethan finally allowed himself to fall upon both of his knees as he stared into seemingly depthless amber orbs of his lover. A kiss of passion concluded this special moment, and through it the two lovers did their best to confer the full depth of affection they felt for one another.

 

And so Ethan and Bela started a new chapter of their lives, with their knees digging into golden sand on a starlit beach. Their individual decades of strife were over, but their mutual age of bliss was just getting started.

Notes:

So this was part one of the Epilogue for this story - hope you've enjoyed it all and are excited for the final, 50th chapter that will conclude this story... It sure has grown far beyond the original bounds I had envisioned for it when I started it, haha, but I sure have no regrets in writing it and I hope you have no regrets reading it :)

I've also realized I've slightly messed up the timelines in the story due to it becoming this huge, so I'd like to clarify that the story started (as in the first chapter - in Cuba and London, respectively for Dimitrescu and Winters) in late February 2023 - 2 years after the conclusion of RE8. Then, the adventure continued throughout the year and after some time skips and traveling around the party arrived in New York somewhere in early June 2023. Its a minor thing that I am sure most don't care about all that much, but I do like to have some clarity with stuff like that, nevertheless.

As always, any kind of feedback is greatly appreciated and if you have questions or suggestions, feel free to share them in the comments!

Regardless, I also wanted to take the time and share some other awesome Dimitrescu-related stories with you guys, though I imagine I am not exactly discovering America here xD. First, even though I honestly doubt anyone here is unfamiliar with it, I can't help but mention Blood and Winter by SilversterM which inspired all this stuff in the first place. Honestly, that story truly transcends the boundaries of fanfiction in its superb writing and masterful attention to detail.

Somewhat less known but almost as good is Taming the Huntress by SilentWinters, which sees an unusual twist by pairing Ethan with Cassandra while keeping their characters lore-friendly. A wonderful work-in-progress that definitely warrants a closer look! I've recommended it before in this story, but there is no shame in repeating yourself when recommending marvelous stuff like that!

Finally, a new work I've stumbled upon by chance is Fragmented Flies by Cr0ssb0w25. This story is about Cassandra and follows canonical events (her death). There is no romance in it so far, but the whole idea of reincarnation, fantasy world, facing your own crimes and sudden helplessness resonated incredibly well with me, so it would be a shame not to recommend it. This story is only in its nascency, but it definitely deserves some kudos and the wonderful author deserves some love, so I urge you guys to take a look at it. Moreover, the author is incredible at drawing, and every chapter includes a marvelous sketch of Cassandra :)

That's it from me for today! Hope you guys and gals have a wonderful week and are staying healthy out there! :)

Chapter 50: The Full Circle

Notes:

This will be a VERY large chapter, with many different characters making an appearance.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

August 1st, 2024

A village in Romania



Ethan kept fiddling with the vast selection of ties for several minutes - it seemed like no matter which tie he tried out, he was just not satisfied with how his reflection looked in the mirror. 

After all, today was a special day and he'd hate to appear as if he half-assed it by selecting a sub-optimal tie. It was therefore unfortunate that Ethan and ties were not on a first name basis… 

Good thing that the Duke somehow learned about Ethan’s predicament and called to inform the groom that his personal collection of ties awaited Ethan’s perusal in the trading post overlooking the valley that hosted the Winters family for the last two weeks.

Should I go for a bold look and pick this bright red spotted tie? Or maybe play it safe and wear this gray one? Or else…

“Jesus, Ethan!”

It appeared that his best man was growing impatient with Ethan’s tardiness.

Turning around to scoff at him, Ethan was confronted with Chris Redfield’s scowling visage. Well-shaved and groomed, the tuxedo-wearing B.O.W. vanquisher was as formidable as he was dashing on this day. Few would assume that he recently turned fifty if they peered at his well-defined musculature or still somewhat youthful facial features.

“It's just a tie!” Chris' lack of patience for what he perceived as trivial things was obvious. 

Sensing his own ire rising up for what Ethan took as dismissal of his valid concerns, for a second the groom wanted to accuse Chris of not knowing how it feels like due to never going through the process himself.

Suppressing the urge, Ethan forced his annoyance to dissipate by reminding himself that it was precisely due to his selfless nature Chris never got married despite his age. It would be undue of Ethan to devalue Chris’ many struggles, so the groom went with a more simple statement - which was still loaded with the unspoken plea to respect his own feelings on the subject.

“I am getting married today, Chris.”

Chris did not respond for a second, but it was clear that the point got across. With a nod, the large man’s harsh face notably softened as he allowed himself a rare smile.

“How about this one, then?” Chris pointed towards one tie Ethan had seemingly overlooked and it immediately caught his eye with its black hue and elegant silver rose-patterns.

Trying it out and then adjusting it for a few moments, Ethan let out a satisfied hum. It sat well on him and its pattern was a suitable tribute to both of the most precious people in his life.

The groom gave his overall appearance one last appraising look, before nodding and taking a step away from the mirror. Despite his black suit appearing crisp and flawless, his nerves were still on fire, which was understandable given the situation, however. 

Exiting the dressing room so kindly provided by the Duke, Ethan and Chris leisurely walked down the hill towards the village’s church where the event was bound to take place. It was still some time before the bride would make her own appearance, so Ethan had some time to gawk around and reflect on yet another twisted turn his life took.

Even as Ethan gazed down the hill and around this sunsoaked valley, he could scarcely believe that one of the most important days of his life would take place here - a year ago he wouldn’t have voluntarily set foot here.

But clearly, opinions and feelings change over time - with some encouragement to do so, usually. The encouragement in this case took the grotesquely overweight shape of the Duke, who had appeared in Los Angeles as if out of thin air once Ethan’s and Bela’s desire to get married became public knowledge.

The obese merchant’s following proposition was initially taken by Ethan with a round of laughter, followed by a disbelieving, “are you fucking serious?” , followed by yet more laughter at the Duke’s firm nod. Confronted with a nearly hysterical response from Ethan, the Duke demonstrated remarkable patience and composure as he explained his point, which Ethan could recall even now with perfect clarity.

“Running from one’s past is an unhealthy and ultimately fruitless way of coping with trauma, Mr. Winters. The only way we can truly overcome the ghosts of our past is by facing them - by proving that we are stronger today than we were yesterday. Confront your fears and break the shackles that bind you to your past, Mr. Winters.”

Ethan had listened to the passionately-delivered speech with understandable tentativeness, as words alone, no matter how pretty, were not enough to get him to hold his special occasion in that forsaken hellhole - or so he thought, until Bela had unexpectedly taken Duke’s side.

“It's not just about us, Ethan. The Duke and Mother have been working so hard at restoring that land to its former splendor - the splendor that I once remembered in a life long lost… I have to do my part to revive that spark that was tainted by Miranda’s darkness and our own cruel deeds… and what better way than to host a celebration of life to overcome the legacy of death?”

The passion of her plea was irresistible, as was her earnest gaze. It was not often Bela asked him for something, and despite the dramatic flair of her request Ethan knew that she was not merely performing and had truly meant every word that she had spoken. The homeland of her reborn body meant a lot to her.

Therefore, considering all the pros and cons, Ethan had no choice but to accede to his beloved’s wishes. It certainly helped that both Bela and Duke had assured him that the formerly desolate land had undergone extensive restoration efforts and was now more than fit to serve as a location for such a special event as a wedding.

On this sunlit day, Ethan could once again see with his own eyes that they were not exaggerating. From his elevated position near the edge of the valley, the whole rediscovered splendor of this vibrant place was open to his gaze. Indeed, the man struggled to simply connect this glorious vista with his first, malefic impression of it.

True, even years ago when he had first stumbled upon this isolated panorama, wounded and tired, Ethan couldn’t help but take a moment to admire the breathtaking sight. But the illusion of a safe haven was shattered swiftly enough by the menacing castle, foreboding ruins and the overall desolate and lifeless appearance of the village itself; that’s not even mentioning the inhospitable weather at the time or the overarching scent of death and decay in the air. The evil had been lurking down there - Ethan had known that even before encountering his first lycan.

 

Today, there was not a single hint of wickedness or malice, no matter how hard Ethan searched for it.

Not a single cloud was spoiling the perfect blue sky overhead, with only the bright warm sun breaking the nigh-seamless heavenly ocean - a rare occasion for the normally gloomy valley. It was not a coincidence that this day in particular was chosen for the event. Pleasant and fair warmth ensured that the cold-averse bride and her siblings could enjoy themselves in thin dresses, while the groom and the male part of the guestlist would find themselves perfectly comfortable even in full dress suits.

To contrast the sky overhead and as far as an eye could see, the seemingly endless sea of green was stretching in every direction. Beautiful, untamed forests and majestic plains took the chance to shine in the heat of summer, finally taking their much-deserved turn from the oppression of snow that dominated this region in other seasons.

Though his eyes could not see them, Ethan knew that the bountiful forests of this fertile land were home to numerous wildlife. 

As if to confirm the thought, a flock of migratory birds with white bellies and black wings flew overhead. A solitary, unarguably majestic white-tailed eagle soared far in the distance; the noble bird’s-of-prey cry could be heard clearly even from so far away. Nevertheless, it did little to dissuade the singing birds in a nearby underbrush from their melodic chirping. The gentle rustling of leaves and slight creaking of branches all around them completed this most harmonious of nature’s symphonies. 

A barrier of mountain peaks surrounded the valley on all sides, creating a truly picturesque view one could stare at for hours.

Just like the sights and sounds of nature were a feast for Ethan’s eyes and ears respectively, so were the smells for his nose. Fresh mountain air was akin to panacea for a city-dweller like Ethan - a simple lungful of it felt like it extended his lifespan by a year or two. In addition to what the man could only describe as freshness, his nostrils were also pleasantly stimulated by a vast array of flowery scents as various flora all around was in full bloom.

The whole untamed valley was brimming with life and vigor, and today Ethan found it as a testament to nature’s unbound beauty.

Of course, nature was not the only force that could be found in this isolated pocket of the world. 

In the center of the sea of pines and oaks was a small but thriving human settlement that appeared to be mostly content to coexist with its wild surroundings in relative harmony. A single paved road, that could accommodate two cars driving side by side, connected this village to the newly established trading post up the hill, and from there - the rest of civilization that has all but forgotten about this long-lost corner of the world.

Turning around to steal a glance at Chris’ face, Ethan could see mixed feelings in the larger man’s eyes as he gazed upon this peculiar settlement that sprouted in the place of one he himself destroyed.

For the Village of Shadows was destroyed in the nuclear detonation caused by Chris. Even though the mini-nuke’s yield was quite low and the detonation itself had occurred underground, the brief yet brutal seismic activity that resulted from the explosion was enough to level the vast majority of the old village’s ramshackle buildings, leaving nothing but a desolate ruin.

Back then, the sight of destruction that would’ve left ordinary mortals with nothing but hopelessness, however, did not dissuade the Duke; who appeared hellbent on restoring life to this remote and isolated settlement. Ethan wasn’t sure if that was remorse at play from the overweight merchant - perhaps he was determined to repent for the sins he committed as a loyal trader under Miranda’s employ. Or maybe it was merely simple human pride and desire for achievement that saw the obese man pouring manpower and resources in a bid to breathe a second life into this village. An irresistible craving to leave one’s own mark upon the world.

Regardless of the Duke’s motivation, as Ethan and Chris walked down the short road that connected the trading post to the village, they could both appreciate the fruits of his labor.

Where there were once nothing but ramshackle shacks, today were artfully decorated houses built in similar, Eastern European village style. The fresh paint on the lumber used in their construction glinted in the sunlight. Flowers and fruit trees surrounded personal properties, adding the homey feeling to the skillfully crafted constructions. A neat cobblestone road twisted around the village, connecting all the houses into a single, eye-pleasing whole.

No werewolves or cultists inhabited these newly built houses. The unfortunate truth was that all the original denizens of this village were long gone, but that didn’t mean that the houses stood empty as some kind of hollow testament to the Duke’s hubris.

Instead, the newly restored village became a fresh start for those who were forced to flee their own homes. The reality of their world meant that Eastern Europe was ravaged by bioterror, with not only the terrorists and insane extremists having access to B.O.W.s but also local military and rebels alike. Many villages and even towns in the surrounding countries were wiped off the map by an outbreak or a roving gang of marauding B.O.W.s.

The Duke’s established Biohazard Relief Fund sought to aid exactly that kind of people, and with charitable donations from his many colleagues and acquaintances, the Fund proved instrumental in providing safe havens for thousands of the displaced victims of bioterror. This village was one such haven.

Ethan had been surprised to learn from Bela that a particularly big donation to the Fund was made by Alcina herself of all people, who had grown quite rich during their tenure in Cuba by selling most of her trademarked Sanguis Virginis wine to the depraved elite of the world. With the aforementioned stock of wine including thousands of bottles harvested over the long decades under Miranda’s employ and considering the outrageous price per bottle that Alcina had set, it was no shock that the countess was filthy rich. 

Still, Ethan wouldn’t have expected the noblewoman to just give away a sizable part of her wealth for the benefit of the people she didn’t even know… Perhaps the countess wished to rid herself of everything that reminded her of her grim past, including the blood money that was distilled from the suffering of her many victims? Again, regardless of her intent, Ethan could only commend her for selecting such a noble course, even if he could not truly forget all the unjust violence committed under her roof. In the end, Alcina’s wealth served to feed and shelter a great many displaced victims who had no one else to turn to - perhaps that, at least partially, concealed her own many sins.    

This very village, under the foot of her own castle stood as a testament to the Duke’s and Alcina humanitarian efforts, as today it was populated by people who had lost everything at the hands of cruel tides of fate that saw fit to plague and demolish their homelands. And while the refugees were somewhat aware of the dark reputation of this valley, they were nevertheless most grateful for this chance to pick up the pieces and restart their lives in a new place - a place they were determined to shape into a true home for themselves.

The celebration that was taking place today saw everyone in high spirits and as Ethan walked down the cobblestone road, the local men, women and even children were all dressed up in the best outfits they had, smiling and waving at him; some even throwing flowers at his feet. It was not everyday their beloved benefactor’s beautiful elder daughter was getting married, after all, and Ethan himself somehow managed to enter the newly established local myth as something of a dashing hero that vanquished an evil witch and therefore liberated this region from her dark grasp - to his utter shock. Regardless, it was plain to see that today was a big day for this whole fledgling village and the festivities would not be contained to the site of the wedding itself.

The smells of delicious food and the sounds of celebrations were coming from every household and even out in the street was an occasional merrily dancing pair. Colorful handmade decorations brightened every house and every little street. Whoever could play an instrument seemingly did just that and the joy of this day was palpable in the air. A wild mix of languages and dialects all around him did not manage to disguise the unifying mirth.

A pair of village girls with flower crowns on top of their heads bounded towards Ethan and Chris, multicolored bouquets of gorgeous freshly-picked flowers thrusting forward from their outstretched hands. Ethan smiled gratefully as he accepted the bouquet and even the large captain at his side had his lips split into a gentle smile as he took one in turn. The girls’ English was heavily accented, but both men had no trouble understanding the earnest well-wishes sent their way. It was beyond heart-warming for them.

As they continued walking through the celebrating village, Ethan felt no regret for consenting to have his wedding held in this, once hostile and desolate - now brimming with life and happiness village. Just like the Duke and Bela had said - they made a full circle and with their own blood and sweat forged a new destiny for themselves. 

Out of the darkness, comes the light, and a place that was once nothing but death and misery was now a festival of life and joy.

In a way, it was a testament to the best humanity had to offer - the perseverance to overcome all the odds and forge out a new path for their children. The strength to weather the tide of evil and greet a brighter tomorrow. 

Ethan could only hope that humanity at large would not forget what it was fighting for… sometimes it was all too easy to abandon all benign intentions for short-sighted gains…

Approaching their destination - a small park on the steps to a quaint little church, Ethan allowed his philosophical musings to dissipate for now, as he caught sight of the first guests they had invited upon this majestic day. Before his act as a socialite could begin, Ethan took a moment to admire the marvelous sight of lilies in full bloom, planted all over the park. The richness of their fragrance appeared to be in a contest with the vibrant pink hue of their petals - making for a nearly overwhelming display of natural beauty. 

Bela was particularly taken by these gorgeous flowers - Ethan did not need to be a telepath to tell that when they had been on a walk here, a couple of days ago, with Bela expressing her astonishment that lilies could even bloom in this valley, considering how little overall sunlight it received during a typical year. She had then proceeded to locate the gardener responsible, only to talk her ear off by inquiring all about her trade.

Simply thinking about his beloved Bela made Ethan’s lips soften into a smile. For now, however, it was time to greet the guests that arrived on this fine sunny day to partake in the celebration that was to come.

 

Mingling near the church, the guests demonstrated today’s semi-formal style in the  multitude of colors of their dresses, as each tried to underline his or her personal preference. Despite their wedding being of a somewhat traditional catholic type, today was not a day of bleak colors.

“Ethan! You look marvelous!” Unsurprising, it was Daniela who noted their approach first. The keen Dimitrescu was quite gorgeous herself in her long, emerald-green, curve-hugging sequin dress, with her wavy mane of red hair flowing down her slender shoulders freely. Numerous pieces of tasteful jewelry were all over her neck, ears, wrists and fingers, giving the impression that the youngest sibling did her best to dress up for this special day of her beloved sister. A pair of high-heeled closed-toed stiletto shoes were worn on her feet, matching the colors of her dress - as was a cute little bow that was tied to the back of her head.

Momentarily forgetting about the heated conversation she was having with another redhead at her side, Daniela immediately attempted to embrace Ethan in a hug, making the man slightly uncomfortable considering the large bouquet he still held in his hands. “Easy, Red!” Sharing a brief hug, Ethan did not hesitate in placing a quick peck on Daniela’s tattooed forehead - making her giggle in mirth - before offering the slightly crumpled bouquet to her.

“For me?!” Daniela’s wide eyes betrayed her child-like excitement, and a confirming nod from Ethan made her squeal in joy, even as she made a grab for the flowers. Chuckling himself at her amusing reaction, Ethan had to privately note that Daniela’s newfound tan suited her well. Her world-wide tour took a pause so she could attend the wedding, yet the energetic spark in her eyes told Ethan that Daniela’s wanderlust was not quite satiated. 

Behind Daniela, Ethan caught sight of Tom - the young tall man quite dashing in his light brown tuxedo with a tie that matched the color of Daniela’s dress - Ethan smiled as he exchanged a firm handshake with the Duke’s right-hand man. Tom was a kind soul who had treated Rose with kindness during their chaotic journey, and was treating Daniela with that same kindness and affection even though it was no longer his job to do so. Ethan was glad for that to be the case - Daniela deserved all the love in the world as far as he was concerned and he was overjoyed to know that she was finally living a life of genuine love and carefree adventure, just like she wanted for so long.

“Having a good time, Claire?” Chris asked his sister as the latter fidgeted with his own dark yellow tie - the one Cassandra had selected for him and the one he wore with some reluctance. Yet he still wore it - a notion that made Ethan grin. Cassandra truly was a force of nature.

“I admit I found this whole thing to be weird as hell at first… but…” Chris’ sister was a stunningly beautiful woman herself, Ethan had to admit, even as he listened to her speak. With pony-tail tied hair as red as that of Daniela, and a long maroon dress covering her graceful frame, Claire Redfield was quite a prize for anyone who could manage to win her affection. “... It is really nice here.” Claire was understandably laconic as she knew the dark history of this place well, but the overall atmosphere of happiness clearly got to her as well, as she gifted Ethan with a wide, toothy smile, “I wish you a long and happy marriage, Ethan - you deserve it.”

Ethan hadn’t had too much contact with Claire before, but he knew that woman to be as earnest and selfless as her brother - a truly kind soul. “Thanks, Claire; enjoy yourself today!” He was not surprised that Daniela managed to swiftly build a rapport with her - they shared more than just a hair color.

Exchanging a friendly hug with Claire, Ethan still couldn’t help but poke a little fun at that, “I see you got a little redhead club going on here…”

“Hey!” A quick jab with a sharp finger in between his ribs made him immediately regret that, as Daniela passionately proclaimed, “Claire was just telling me about all her travels with Terrasave!” Withdrawing her finger and gaining a dreamy look to her gaze as she clapped her palms together, Daniela continued, with even more passion, “Can you even imagine - traveling the whole wide world - to help people?! Truly, there is no endeavor more noble or worthy than that!”

The youngest Redfield appeared a little shy from such an earnest compliment. Clearing her throat, she meekly tried to bring Daniela down, “It's not as fancy as you might think… most of the time we are down there in the dirt and mud… just trying to pick up broken pieces.”

Daniela’s spark died down a little as her overacting imagination was confronted with harsh reality, but her curiosity still burned bright and she continued to assault Claire with a barrage of questions, with Tom occasionally inquiring one or two of his own. Terrasave activities were quite similar to what the Duke has been doing lately, after all. Sharing experience could only benefit them all.

“What’s this, then?” Haughty, somewhat annoyed voice that could only belong to Cassandra Dimitrescu inevitably refocused the group’s attention on the noble scion. 

Turning around to face Cassandra, Ethan was not surprised to see that she also remained faithful to that strange fixation with specific colors that the Dimitrescu daughters were known for. Dark gold was naturally the middle sibling’s choice, and her today’s dress reflected that well. While similar in overall design to Daniela’s dress, Cassandra’s own one was far less modest and revealed plenty of the brunette’s pale skin with its short length and deep v-neck. An occasional piece of silver jewelry with moderate make-up only served to underline the woman’s natural beauty - which she was never shy to flaunt.

Little about Cassandra’s statuesque figure was left to imagination with its tight fit and any willing observer was free to admire her athletic prowess and feminine grace in equal measures - though her infamously fiery temper and known inclination to punch people that offended her precluded all but the bravest from having their gaze linger on her. Not that Cassandra particularly minded the occasional attention she attracted. While any advances towards her were doomed to fail, Ethan was certain that Cassandra enjoyed that spark of jealousy in Chris’ eyes whenever someone tried to approach her.

Unfortunately, today Cassandra’s mood must have been soiled by whatever caught her gaze - a bouquet of flowers Chris still carried around, which her amber orbs clearly tried to burn with the intensity they stared at it. A hint of jealousy in her own expression was obvious to Ethan.

Smirking, Chris was swift to demonstrate his adaptable mind, developed over countless conflicts and social contacts alike.

Unflinching, the large man thrust the bouquet forward, offering it to Cassandra, “A bouquet of beautiful flowers fit for a beautiful lady.” Concise yet eloquent - let nobody say that Chris Redfield could not be a proper gentleman.

Still frowning, Cassandra accepted the bouquet and steadily her lips started to shift towards that of an arrogant, self-assured smirk, if only for a moment, before adopting their more typical shape - that of a half-smile of contentment. The conversation in the small group slowly resumed, though neither Chris nor Cassandra had eyes for anybody but each other.

Ethan didn’t miss the way Chris was eyeing Cassandra’s alluring frame or a spark of hunger that flashed in the woman’s eyes as her own gaze roamed across the captain’s formidable bulk. Neither did Daniela.

“Maybe you two should get a room.” 

Cassandra didn’t miss a beat as she arched her eyebrow at her younger sister, clearly unamused by her suggestive tone, “What, so you could peek at us again? You little voyeuristic pest.”

The way Daniela immediately went red in the face at that, only to then attempt to cover her face with her palms in shame was both embarrassing and amusing to Ethan in equal measures. The strange quirks of the youngest Dimitrescu were many, and some of them were more horrifying than others, yet Ethan still felt as if she was his own kin.

Still, the initial shock from embarrassment passed quickly and Daniela suddenly straightened up while curling her fists and stomping her heeled shoe against the paved ground, before exploding in indignity, “I told you I don’t do that anymore! Why do you have to bring that up before everybody ?! Yesterday was just an accident!”

Utterly unbothered by Daniela’s outburst, Cassandra arched one delicate eyebrow, appearing unimpressed, “An accident, huh?”

Daniela fumed and stomped her foot once again, but said nothing, struggling to produce coherent words in her flushed state - instead, Tom suddenly came to her defense by moving to position himself between the two sisters, “We are working on Daniela’s issues, but it might be helpful if you’d be supportive rather than accusative towards your own sister, Miss Cassandra.”

Appearing amused more than anything else, Cassandra merely scoffed, before waving her hand at the man and opening her crass mouth once again, “Work harder then. I am tired of having our ” - she curled her arm around Chris’ biceps as she spoke, “private time interrupted by her ceaseless staring every time we come for a visit.” A wicked grin split her mouth, as Cassandra considered her next words, “Perhaps you should consider employing your own little man-thing in your next therapy session, Thomas. Might be helpful in weaning off her bad habits, you know.”

Before the man - now bright in the face himself - could respond, Daniela shrieked out for half the village to hear, “ CRASSANDRA!!!

That wiped that arrogant smirk off Cassandra's face, “I told you not to call me that, you little brat!” The bouquet of flowers Chris gave to Cassandra suddenly found its way to the nearby bench.

“Catch me if you can, then, you lumbering oaf!” cackled out Daniela, before peeking her tongue at her sister from behind Tom. Seeing Cassandra’s fingers twitching and left eye opening wide while right eye narrowing to a vicious slit, Daniela knew that she had her attention. Howling with laughter as she broke into a sprint away from them, Daniela was not disappointed since Cassandra eagerly followed along, with their mad chase soon resulting in both women discarding their footwear before eventually transcending the limits of human form altogether; the guests’ surprise from their childish antics being replaced by shock and awe of their unleashed powers - employed for such an infantile purpose.

Cassandra’s and Daniela’s human bodies lost shape, becoming swarms of buzzing insects instead - two distinct swarms, in fact. If not for the clothing being partly visible through the fluttering clouds of bugs, the vast majority of sane humans would struggle to tell the two apart, but Ethan actually had a clue as to the identity of the given swarm by its composition and behavior alone.

Much like the predator she was, Cassandra’s bugs strived to retain a tightly-packed formation, while lashing out as a single unit. In turn, Daniela’s ones were moving far more chaotically and were heavily spread out.

The two swarms clashed against each other in mid-air, seemingly with individual flies engaging each other. The clashes lasted for only a second or two before the entire hive-minded swarms disengaged - as if to catch a breath and regroup - before slamming against each other once more. The cycle kept repeating even as the combatants fruitlessly tried to reposition and flank each other. Despite the seemingly ferocious action taking place, not a single fly dropped dead, implying that neither sister truly sought to harm the other.

The sight of two sentient swarms of flies chasing and clashing against each other was more than a little unusual - especially considering that their dresses and jewelry somehow appeared to follow the bugs along - and even the experienced observers were more than a little surprised to bear witness to this otherworldly display. Those that were not intimately familiar with the Dimitrescu sisters stood slack-jawed as they stared upon this unique - perhaps once in a lifetime - show. Not everyday one could bear witness to a chimeric half-human, half-colonies of fly mutants engage in a mock fight, after all. Though some apparently were more interested in a more mundane aspect of this performance - a male guest Ethan was not familiar with had his wide-open eyes unerringly follow a piece of dark lingerie that would occasionally reveal itself through the swarm of bugs.

For Ethan himself none of this was particularly new, however, as on a few occasions the daughters met under peaceful circumstances with him there to bear witness, this peculiar pattern kept repeating, in one way or the other.

Cassandra would try to shame Daniela, with Daniela retaliating by insulting Cassandra. After some verbal back-and-forth, they would proceed to chase one another in their swarm forms. Even without Bela telling him so plainly, Ethan had suspected that this playful display was a way for the sisters to both unwind and express the love they felt for one another in a particularly twisted way.

Was that whole performance immature - most definitely yes. Yet normally Ethan wouldn’t try to stop it, since not only nobody was going to get harmed, but he genuinely enjoyed watching Cassandra and Daniela have fun in their own weird way. Likewise, Ethan could see that Chris also shared his opinion on the subject, if a slight smile tugging at his lips was any indication. 

Curiously, Ethan had to mentally note that while both Daniela and Cassandra showed little restraint in using their swarmforms and would often do that both for entertainment as well as for convenience, Ethan struggled to recall the last time he saw Bela call upon her birthright. It definitely felt like it has been months since Ethan saw Bela as anything but fully human. Ethan felt like he should probably express curiosity about that to the woman in question herself, at some later point.

 

Today, however, this particular shape shifting spectacle did feel a little more out of place than usual. The wedding ceremony itself would start soon and Ethan would hate for the girls to make a mess.

Before he could attempt to yell for the sisters to get back down, Ethan noted a pair of familiar forms approaching the church.

Still sporting his silly hat and a pair of shades, in strolled one known as Karl Heisenberg. Dressed for the occasion, the man looked quite good in his fashionable brown vest and a pristine white shirt with short sleeves. A black tie was peeking out from one of his pants’ pockets and a pair of clearly expensive leather shoes demonstrated that the Lord of Metal didn’t skimp on his footwear.

At Heisenberg's side was his long-lost daughter, Millicent Stout, or just Millie as she liked to be called. The young woman had a metal gray long dress on, which seemingly perfectly matched the color of her eyes. Out of all the women here so far, only Millie seemed to eschew high heels for the occasion, instead wearing simple flat shoes. That was likely not a simple preference in taste, however, Ethan suspected.

Truthfully, he didn’t expect her to show up at all, as he was quite aware of the ordeal the poor woman underwent after the showdown in France. Her timely intervention and dedication to her duty helped save the day back then, but it did come at a price.

Even Karl could lose consciousness if he pushed himself hard enough with his unnatural powers, and Millie had it even worse, as the electromagnetic organ she was born with was underdeveloped and malformed. The strain on her whole body back then was colossal to the point where she fell into a coma soon after saving her father. A coma her own body could not escape by itself.

The underdeveloped organ, pushed to the brink of death, did its best to persevere, even if it meant inhibiting its host's other vital functions, such as a sufficient blood flow to the brain. The doctors who oversaw Millie found themselves unable to resuscitate the young woman from her drained state or stabilize the unnatural organ she was born with, not with things being as they were.

A decision was reached - with Karl giving his assent - to have the organ surgically removed. Due to the fact that none of the surgeons had any experience with something that clearly had no business being in a human’s body in the first place, the surgery was long and arduous, with its ultimate result being uncertain.

In the tense week that followed, Karl rarely left Millie’s bedside, even eating and sleeping right there in the hospital room with his daughter. 

Thankfully, on the 8th day after the surgery, Millie woke up. While she was diagnosed with minor brain damage, none of her mental faculties were impaired, and the majority of her memory was left intact - with overjoyed Karl eagerly filling the blanks. Naturally, Millie would never again be able to perform her feats of ferrokinetics, and it would be a while before she could walk again, but she was alive and reunited with her family - and that had been enough for both of them.

Even today, months after her discharge from the hospital, Ethan could clearly see that the young woman moved slowly, carefully considering every single step before committing to it, but the expression of pure joy on her face implied that she found her physical limitations to be of secondary concern.

Eagerly approaching them, Ethan did not hesitate in giving Millie a brief yet warm hug before exchanging a solid handshake with Karl, “Millie. Heisenberg. Looking good today, you guys. Glad you made it.”

Millie smiled at Ethan, “Ethan, you don’t even know how glad I am to be here… thank you…” Slightly blushing at the unexpected tenderness of her voice, Ethan could only nod. Millie smiled again, before slowly walking towards Tom, who in turn hurried to embrace his sister-like figure in a warm yet careful embrace of his own. Both of them then proceeded to continue watching the show put up by the younger Dimitrescu siblings above them.

“Winters. ” The scruffy lord smirked at Ethan, before focusing his attention on the buzzing swarms overhead - something that Millie stared at with obvious fascination in her silver eyes.

“And here they are at it again…” muttered Karl, before dramatically raising his hands overhead. “Bothersome flies, trying to ruin my favorite niece’s special day…”

Somehow Ethan thought that it was Cassandra that was Heisenberg’s favorite niece, but maybe the Lord of Metal loved them all equally, with favorites changing from day to day.

“Normally, it takes their mother to get them down, but just for today, I think I’ll fill in my sister’s shoes, seeing as how she is absent for now. Someone has to stop them from making a real mess.” Karl cleared his throat, put his hands at his sides and breathed in a lungful of air, before shouting loud enough for half the village to hear.

“CASSANDRA! DANIELA! STOP THIS NONSENSE AT ONCE AND GET DOWN HERE THIS VERY INSTANT YOUNG LADIES!”

Ethan had to note that Karl sounded exactly like Alcina in this moment. The groom was still surprised that the sentient swarms of flies obeyed him as swiftly and soundly as they would their own mother by immediately fluttering down and coalescing into two young women… two breathless young women covered in sweat and with their expensive dresses crumpled and stained by dirt. Ethan couldn’t resist letting out an exasperated sigh, that, nevertheless hinted more at his affections towards the due than anything else. Some things never change…

“She started it, Uncle!” Even the formidable and fearsome Cassandra Dimitrescu seemed to shrink under Karl’s withering glare.

“No - she did!” Daniela looked aghast at the accusation that she started this mess. She totally didn’t!

Karl just let out a tired sigh of his own, though the amusement that was glinting behind his shades spoke volumes about what he really thought on the matter.

“You know what your mother would say.” Karl visibly cringed as he imitated the matriarch’s voice, ” This behavior is unbecoming of a lady of House Dimitrescu! ” the man continued in a normal tone, though the one that held an air of finality, “Make up and go get proper right now - you’re not going to show up to your elder sister’s wedding looking like that , will you?”

Thoroughly admonished, both sisters shook their heads in a negative, before responding in unison, “No, Uncle…”

In a ritual that was all too familiar - yet still incredibly heartwarming - Cassandra took Daniela into a tight embrace, before muttering, “I do love you, Dani… though you’re a deviant and a doofus.”

Daniela snorted, but returned the hug with the same impressive amount of affection, “And I love you , Cassi, though you are mean and crass.”

Both sisters giggled amicably, and after recovering their footwear, went hand-in-hand back towards their castle, presumably to clean themselves up after their playfight. Their carefree attitude towards life, as well as their genuine affection towards each other evoked nothing but positive emotions in Chris and Ethan alike; the men could only exchange warm smiles at the display. These strange bug-mutants truly became precious for both the hardened survivor as well as the former B.S.A.A. captain, and the sight of them having such simple - simple for them, that is - fun, without anyone getting hurt was truly priceless.

“They are definitely a strange lot…” offered Claire, with a number of nods from those around her showing that her notion found wide support among the assembled faces.

“Indeed… but after all the long decades they had been stuck in their castle, I think it's a testament to their mental fortitude that they have not gone completely and irrevocably insane,” Karl mumbled in a contemplative way, though not without a hint of pride in his nieces. He loved these strange girls dearly, and that showed. They were a family of freaks… but Ethan felt like the emphasis should be on ‘family’ .

“I am impressed at how well you were able to handle Cassandra of all people, Heisenberg,” noted Chris while folding his arms. The Lord merely smirked, before tipping his hat and responding in a particularly teasing voice.

“Ah, Redfield, I am sure you’ve figured out by now that our fierce little fly tends to respond more favorably to…ahm… certain methods.” 

Chris clearly got what he meant since a slight blush managed to visit even that formidable soldier’s face; Ethan’s curiosity got piqued, yet he refrained from asking for clarification for modesty’s sake.

“Seems like we just missed quite a show - a shame!” A new voice announced the arrival of a new group of guests, who had likely made their way into this isolated valley together.

Even though Ethan had invited them himself, he was still honestly surprised to actually see these rather important people make a personal appearance today. It was not a short flight to the middle of nowhere in Romania, with the nearest airfield being almost a hundred miles away to boot.

In the lead, dressed in a sleek dark blue suit, was Leon Kennedy - a big shot in Washington these days. To think that a newly-minted National Security Advisor of the United States of America could carve out enough time out of his undoubtedly busy schedule to visit them here was mind-boggling.

Next to Leon ambled the humongous form of the moldy gang’s biggest benefactor himself. Dressed in an immaculate ivory suit that was designed specifically for his unusual proportions, the Duke was all smiles as he gazed around at the fruits of his labors. He clearly liked what he was seeing. In turn, Ethan could only gape as despite his peculiar, lumbering gait, the Duke was somehow easily capable of keeping up with Leon’s brisk pace. It's like the very laws of physics slackened their hold on reality whenever this enigmatic merchant was present… Regardless of his somewhat humorous appearance, however, Ethan knew Duke to be a highly-influential figure, with a finger in seemingly every pie and an international network of contacts at his disposal.

At the Duke’s side were two more people, one of which Ethan knew well.

Dion Wilson, in a simple but tidy black tuxedo - probably the most formal out of the guests so far; an outfit that clashed with his vibrant personality, yet the one that made him look formidable while remaining approachable. An easy smile decorated his handsome face, showing that the man still retained that spark of life that he was known for.

It was no coincidence that Dion arrived with the Duke. While the former Hound Wolf operative was proud of the part he had played in shaking up the established corrupt world order, he had fought enough for the sake of others. Nobody blamed or questioned the man when he had decided to resign from the B.S.A.A… but a veteran with his kind of experience is a rare commodity - the Duke was swift in offering the operative a position as the security chief for his own many operations.

Dion accepted the offer just as swiftly, though perhaps not entirely because of its tempting salary or many benefits associated with working with the Duke. As strange as it may sound, the biggest deciding factor for Dion was the proximity this position offered to the one his heart ached for - quite literally even, for a while.

Anna Smirnova had also moved up in the ranks after the incredible ordeal she had suffered as a puppet of Paxton Fettel. The Duke, instead of harboring malice for the one who had sunk his beloved yacht, showed incredible empathy by personally attending her recovery and eventually promoting the resilient young woman to a position of his personal assistant.

But even the Duke’s generosity and forgiveness was not nearly as shocking as an astonishing romance that somehow managed to bloom between Anna and Dion. Back then in that France showdown, Fettel had wanted to go straight for the heart as he wielded Anna like a tool, yet the woman focused her every being into making sure that the strike would not have been a fatal one for the man who had treated her with nothing but kindness. Anna might have therefore missed his heart with her knife… only to then pierce it with that strange emotion that apparently could bloom in every conceivable situation.

No less miraculous was the fact that Anna managed to preserve the child she bore throughout all of that mess, a child belonging to a long-deceased lover of hers that perished on shores of Mauritania. Dion swore that he would love young Alexei as if he was his own. This was a twisted fairy-tale love story if Ethan ever heard one, though he was not the one to judge, considering his own imminent wedding to a certain vampiric bug-lady.

Ethan was actually looking forward to meeting both Anna and Alexei, though unfortunately but understandably, the woman chose to remain at home with her newborn baby boy, with only Dion representing their strange little family at the wedding here.

The second person that was eagerly chit-chatting both Leon and the Duke was unfamiliar to Ethan, however. 

It was a striking woman in a crimson dress with a daring thigh slit. The ease with which she moved in her black stiletto shoes underlined the incredible grace that was exuded by her feminine figure. Her Asian features were delicate, yet there was an unmistakable sense of danger in her eyes. Somehow, her whole frame reminded Ethan of a coiled spring; a deadly weapon that could be unleashed in an instant. Despite her breath-stealing beauty, this was not a woman to be trifled with, Ethan could tell that much from just a glance.

That particular observation was supported by the fact that the woman appeared to be on equal footing with both Leon and Duke - Ethan wasn’t exactly sure who claimed seniority in their little elite club, but it was obvious that none of them saw her as the lesser of the influential trio.

Seeing his gaze linger at her, the woman promptly marched towards Ethan, while giving him a slight smirk, as if she was on something he was not.

“And you must be the groom… the bride is a lucky one indeed!” The gorgeous woman offered Ethan the top of her hand for the traditional greeting. In turn, Ethan placed a small peck on her delicate hand and before he could inquire about who exactly she was, the woman beat him to the punch.

“I am Leon’s friend - Ada Wong. A pleasure to finally meet you, Ethan Winters. I’ve heard a lot about you, you know!”

“Only good things, I hope,” Ethan responded before smiling - Ada’s charisma was undeniable and he already wanted to become friends with her. Purely platonic, of course.

Ada curled her blood-red lip as she pondered, before giving a slight nod and a smile, “Indeed… your affinity for flies was quite unexpected, yet it served us all well in the long run. More people than you know are grateful to you for your many deeds, Mr. Winters - maybe one day you’ll make use of their gratitude, hmm?”

As she talked, Ada moved even closer to Ethan, until her ruby lips were all but pressing to Ethan’s left ear, “by the way, keep this between us, but your former wife wanted to pass her own well-wishes.”

Ethan’s blood chilled in his veins at her whispered words. He wouldn’t be too shocked if Ada stabbed him in the heart right now, after she had mentioned Mia.

Perhaps figuring out his thought process, Ada swiftly amended her previous sentence, “Mia had moved on and she is content that so did you. She only hopes that you will take good care of your mutual child and don’t let her forget who her real mother is.”

“The hell are you whispering to him, Ada? Leave the poor man out of your goddamn intrigues!” Leon’s voice was filled with annoyance and upon hearing it, Ada quickly relented by pulling pack and shrugging her petite shoulders, with Ethan momentarily stunned speechless by her unexpected confession.

“Just delivering my best wishes in private, Rookie.”

Leon clearly didn’t appreciate that nickname, though he refrained from commenting beyond grumbling under his breath; instead he approached Ethan for a handshake and a greeting, followed by Dion and finally the Duke.

As he exchanged pleasantries with the men, Ethan pondered on the mysterious message delivered by Ada. Apparently, not only Mia was alive and in good health, but also had supposedly moved on from their relationship and bore no ill-will towards Ethan. If that was the truth - and he had no idea how Ada even knew Mia, much less if she was truthful about the whole thing - that was a very good thing, as Ethan likewise didn’t bear any ill will towards Mia herself. Still, the last part of the message somehow made Ethan feel like Mia would eventually resurface in his life, if only to visit Rose. Surprisingly, the protective father didn’t feel too opposed to that notion.

Shaking off musings about Mia, Ethan concluded the pleasantries by stating, “I really didn’t expect you guys to actually come here in person!”

The Duke made a face at that, “Why, you wound me with such words, Mr. Winters! I would not miss this marvelous occasion for the world itself! History is made today, mark my words.”

The humongous merchant was as dramatic as always, making Leon chuckle before adding his own two cents, “While I might not go as far as our friend Duke, I have to say that today is a monumental occasion, and I’d say that my duties for the U.S. are being met by being here today.”

“This wedding is a powerful symbol, a sign that the world is ready to move on, in a way,” mysteriously added Ada, while smirking at Ethan, “many interested parties are watching how it unfolds with great curiosity and greater still hopes.”

“Eh, don’t listen to her gibberish, Ethan.” Leon waved Ada off before seemingly losing interest in the current company - with the next focus of his attention being a certain redheaded sister that had no direct relationship to the Dimitrescu family. “Hey, Claire!”

“Hey, Leon…” responded Claire, seemingly genuinely happy to see the man. Ethan took a moment to glance at those around and was surprised to see that seemingly perpetual smirk wiped off Ada’s face as she narrowed her eyes at Claire. In turn, Chris appeared to want to burn a hole in Ada’s back as he glared at her. There was probably some bad blood between them…

If that was the case, however, none of the parties involved made the first unfriendly move, with Chris eventually being distracted by Dion entering a conversation with his old captain; while Ada returned to the Duke’s side to discuss something in hushed tones, with Millie and Tom eventually joining their patron and his acquaintance.

With the current guests separating themselves into familiar groups, Ethan was free to greet the newest pair of arrivals - someone he hadn’t seen for a while, yet someone he was eminently happy to behold on this special day.

“Zoe, Joe! I am so glad you’ve actually made it here!”

Zoe and Joe Baker lived their own semi-normal lives lately, only occasionally getting into trouble with authorities due to their overly-snoopy attitude. While Ethan remained in some contact with Zoe due to their shared journey across Dulvey's nightmare - and since they genuinely liked each other as friends - he didn’t share the news about Eveline’s resurgence with her. And now, with Eveline’s apparent demise, there was no need to.

That particular thought suddenly made Ethan tear up as a spike of grief shot through his heart. There were many amazing people present here today: loyal friends, stalwart companions and reliable comrades… yet one face was missing.

Eveline

The girl who was turned into an unwitting monster, only to later become their beacon of hope, to ultimately sacrifice herself for the greater good - for her family ; for the world that turned its back on her.

“Oh, wow, I didn’t expect you to be that happy to see us, Ethan.” Zoe clearly noticed the wetness glinting in Ethan’s eyes, though it was unlikely that she managed to divine their true origin.

Today was a celebration for the living, but that didn’t mean they would forget the ones that were gone from their lives. For as long as he would live, Ethan was resolved to remember Eveline; by honoring her memory, she would continue to exist through him.

With that thought giving him a measure of solace and allowing him to overpower the sudden onset of grief, Ethan brushed the wetness away from his eyes and returned to the present - just in time, as Joe Baker appeared concerned for his lapse in attention, “Are you alright, son?”

“Guess my nerves are starting to get to me, heh,” Ethan tried to play it off, without revealing too much. Despite his newfound affection for Eveline, he knew that she had taken everything from these people. They would probably react with outrage if Ethan suddenly spurted out that Eveline had been inhabiting his body all along.

Forcing himself to return to here and now, Ethan decided to once again focus his attention on his guests. Good old Joe had a well-worn yet clearly cared for suit on, which was presumably a black one once upon a time, though now it was more of a dark gray one.

Zoe, however, had a very pretty yet modest teal gown on her slender body; a gentle touch of make up on her face, a moderate amount of tasteful silver jewelry and her long dark locks running down her bared shoulder revealed something Ethan could not truly catch during his time in Dulvey - Zoe Baker was quite a beautiful woman in her own right. 

As she smiled at him - a genuine smile of a true friendship - Ethan briefly contemplated where his life would have taken him if he had made a different choice in that unforgiving swamp, so many years ago.

Zoe, instead of Mia.

Would they all have survived then? Would Zoe end up with Ethan? Would they have a child together?

At that last thought Ethan made a mental dead stop. Even merely contemplating having a different child than Rose was wrong on so many levels the man momentarily felt repulsed by his own thoughts.

What happened, happened.

“So where is little Rose? I’ve been dying to meet your little angel in person…” Zoe’s soft voice allowed Ethan to focus on the present. Pointing a hand towards the castle looming overhead, the proud father responded without missing a beat.

“She is with Bela and Alcina in the castle.”

Joe whistled at that. The wealth on display here must have been truly overwhelming for a man who had been a simple swarm hermit for such a long time. In turn, Zoe merely nodded, appearing uncertain about something.

If Ethan had to guess, he’d assume that she must have been at a loss for words for the ease with which he would trust his own flesh and blood to what she knew to be dangerous creatures - even if he was about to marry one of them. That made sense - even if she was not aware of the true scale of atrocities committed by the Dimitrescu family - like most present here today - she knew that they were a product of callous biogenetic research - monsters, or victims, depending on one’s point of view.

Exchanging some small talk, Ethan proceeded to better introduce Joe and Zoe to Chris, who then started to ask some earnest questions from the Dulvey survivors. It was obvious that even the battle-hardened veteran like Chris had eminent respect for the duo.

Momentarily free and by himself, Ethan felt a bit overwhelmed by all the colorful personalities he had already encountered today. Judging that a moment of peace and quiet was exactly what he needed to get back in the loop, Ethan decided to get just that by silently moving through the small park-like space they all occupied right now and into the quaint little church itself.

Much like the rest of the village, the church was a rather recent construction, with paint still wet in some places. 

In a peculiar twist, despite the majority of Romania adhering to Eastern Orthodox church, this particular temple of God was anointed to represent a little known independent Catholic denomination that originated in the Transylvania region - something that Alcina’s family apparently was devout followers of, before the tragedy that left them all dead and Alcina herself in Miranda’s care.

The overall style of this quaint church and the accompanying decorations conformed to that origin, though without any overbearing fanaticism, creating a place that was both fit for worship as well as for quiet meditations, or even simply to just lay back and relax for a moment.

The slightly stale air inside the church was a welcome change from the incredible fresh mountain air outside - which could be overwhelming for a city dweller such as himself. The church’s simple yet beautiful ornamentation conveyed a sense of solace and tranquility - this little place truly felt like a quiet haven.

Sitting on the backmost pew, Ethan let out a small sigh, a bit overwhelmed from all the colorful personalities. While he would not consider himself a truly introverted person, he was not a shining extrovert by any means and such large gatherings felt a bit draining, even if he did greatly enjoy seeing all these people attending the event.

The sweet and pleasant smell of the fresh maple the pews under and around him were made of, as well as the scented candle wax put the man fully at ease, allowing him to reminisce a little bit.

He missed his own family. His own loving mother, so cruelly taken by cancer when he was still just a boy. His stern but caring father, lost in a random car accident when Ethan just reached his own adulthood.

Ethan wondered if his parents would’ve looked upon his union with Bela with pride or scorn today. Would’ve they understood the love they felt for each other, or merely judge him crazy for falling for a murderous vampiric bioweapon? Both of them were rather open-minded, so Ethan hoped for the former, even if he could never truly know the real answer.

Likewise, there were no other close relatives Ethan still had in this world. Their family was always a small one, and him being a single child, he never knew the joy of having a sibling.

If not for the ties he had made, Ethan Winters would’ve been all alone in this cold world; an unbearable thought to bear.

Straightening up in his seat as he finished reminiscence, Ethan finally realized that he was not alone in the church.

On the very front pew, a trio of figures sat as they conversed in hushed whispers, seemingly unaware of his presence. 

Peering at them closer, Ethan could easily recognize the tall and broad frame of the priest that would be holding the ceremony that was dawning ever closer with each passing moment.

Father Grigori was a peculiar man that made a poor first impression on Ethan. Always carrying around a customized rifle; bombastic and eager to misquote the Bible, he didn’t appear too suited to preside over a quaint little church like this, much less officiate a wedding ceremony.

Yet as Ethan learned more about the priest and as he talked with the man himself, Ethan realized that his first impression couldn’t be further from the truth. The priest’s story left Ethan speechless by once again confirming that Ethan’s own tragic encounters were not exactly unique. Many others had suffered through similar enough events, as well.

The conflict that ravaged Edonia in 2010-2012 had a vast and lasting impact on the whole region, including the surrounding countries. Both the rebels and the government forces during the struggle demonstrated horrifying disregard for civilian casualties as they resorted to extreme measures to get the upper hand. Moreover, as it later turned out, the rebels were not the only faction that employed bio-organic weapons.

The Connections and their ilk were only too happy to oblige both sides by eagerly peddling exotic and unstable B.O.W.s to whoever could afford to pay for it.

As a result, the conflict was vicious beyond words. Whole settlements were wiped off the map; entire regions became desolate wastelands.

Father Grigori hailed from one such place. A town that was once known as Gavrangrad - something to do with ravens, if Ethan recalled Bela’s translation correctly - the place was turned into a zombie-infested hellhole by an experimental B.O.W. that broke out of its containment during transportation and which then proceeded to swiftly and efficiency zombify the local populace by producing some kind of rapidly-multiplying parasites that attached themselves to the victims’ craniums.

With Gavrangrad being a simple mining town far out in the boondocks with no real significance, it was left to its own unenviable fate as the conflict raged across the country. Even when B.S.A.A. came to clean up the mess, Gavrangrad was among the last places they cleansed from the viral infection. By the time they got there, there was little left but infection.

Father Grigori was the only survivor from a town that once supported thousands of households. Instead of trying to escape the doomed town, Grigori had been resolute in holding his ground until the very last member of his corrupted congregation was put to rest. He performed the final rites with fire, steel and a generous amount of buckshot.

All alone and surrounded by nothing but death and zombies, the priest somehow managed to persevere in the face of overwhelming odds. Even though it took the B.S.A.A. reinforcements to finally cleanse the town, Father Grigori’s wish has been granted and he felt like his duty to his God was fulfilled, allowing him to move on.

Therefore, it was all too fitting that the good Father found this new settlement, for those lost in the world; for those craving a second chance. Even with his oddities and quirks, and, if Ethan was being honest, probably a tenuous grasp on sanity, Father Grigori was most welcome in this village of outcasts and survivors. 

That’s not even mentioning that very few priests would agree to marry Ethan and Bela if they knew their true origins, and neither felt like deceiving men of cloth by pretending to be normal humans; lies and pretense would not be a good start to their union. Father Grigori had accepted them both for what they were - a moldy freak that was barely human and a colony of sentient flies that could shapeshift into a woman. In his eyes, they were children of God, just like anybody else.

As Ethan continued to peer at the backs of Father Grigori and the two people that shared a pew with him, recognition about the identities of them started to dawn on him. A man with a hunched back. A woman in a veil. 

Bela did mention that her other relatives might attend the wedding, as well. When Ethan had expressed curiosity at that notion, she just smiled and told him to, “wait and see.”

He saw them now, alright, just when he saw them more than three years ago. Two Lords, from whom he had recovered two pieces of his beloved Rose - two freaks of nature he could’ve chosen to slay, but did not.

Donna Beneviento and Salvatore Moreau were here now, where they belonged.

It wouldn’t have been unreasonable for Ethan to feel anger or disgust at seeing two more of Miranda’s once loyal lapdogs sharing this special occasion with him. Instead of it, however, Ethan felt compassion for the two former Lords as they quietly spoke to the priest. That lenient attitude was born from the many conversations he had shared with Bela in the months of their relationship. The eldest Dimitrescu daughter explained much about the origins of those that would be known as Lords in the valley of the Cult of the Black God. None of them asked for the ‘gift’ Miranda so generously bestowed upon her hapless flock. Even Alcina - the First Lord - had to be pushed to the point of utter despair to accept Miranda’s offer of immortality and great powers; the other three were never even given a choice.

Not moving from his spot but edging his upper body slightly forward in a bid to catch a hint of what the trio was talking about, Ethan struggled to hear a word.

Donna spoke in an incredibly soft voice, barely above whisper and Ethan imagined that it would not be easy to decipher her words even in immediate proximity, much less on the opposite side of the church. By comparison, Moreau was far less subtle.

“I still see them, Father. Every time I close my eyes, I see them. They are begging me to stop, but I don’t. I can’t. Their transformation would please Mother. But I fail. Always fail. All the deaths were for nothing.”

Moreau's voice was quivering; his whole frame shaking.

Nodding as he had heard them both, Father Grigori suddenly stood up from his spot next to Donna, only to unceremoniously plop down in between the two Lords while putting a hand around each one’s respective shoulder. This priest clearly had little in common with the ordinary members of the church. Ethan leaned even closer while allowing his fingernails to rest on the back of a pew in front of him.

“My brother and my sister: your deeds are sinful indeed; your hearts full of wickedness. Oh, merciless ones, you have caused great affliction without a righteous cause!”

Ethan frowned. While Father Grigori was technically correct, his judgment still felt crushingly harsh. However, the boisterous priest clearly wasn’t done yet, so Ethan remained in his seat.

Grigori’s voice was loud now, no longer meant just for the two Lords next to him, but for any who would listen. He suddenly shot to his feet and faced the large cross behind the church’s podium, while raising his hands above his head in a dramatic fashion of one who sought to exult his God.

“Woe to all, for our dwelling place is distant, and we wander through the domiciles of Chaos.“

“I have been laid down in a pit of darknesses and the shadow of death. And thy anger has pressed down upon me; and all thy cares have come down upon me. And from this bed I cry out for the kindling of thy Light!”

Ethan scowled. This sounded more like generic ramblings than a proper response to what felt like a confession from the two sinners that sought redemption. Perhaps seeking it from a half-crazed man was a mistake - but not as big as having him officiate his and Bela’s wedding.

“Turn not thy face away from me; incline thy ear and hear me when I shall cry to thee in my affliction!”

Finishing his ranting monologue, Grigori swiftly turned on the heels of his boots to behold his congregation - his eyes glinted in the half-darkness of the church as they briefly connected with Ethan’s.

Ignoring the groom, Grigori focused his wide-eyed gaze on Moreau and Donna. Instead of containing yet more of his boisterous ramblings, his next words had remarkably more clarity to them, as well as a crushing sense of quiet finality. There was no mistaking the recipient this time.

“In his infinite benevolence, the Lord has seen fit to extend your stay on this sinful earth. There is no further salvation to be gained but the one you wrought with your own two hands.”

No salvation but the one you make with your own hands - that sounded like something Ethan could relate to, especially after all the tribulations of his life. The groom smiled; somehow that last sentence was enough to reassure Ethan that the priest could be trusted to perform the ceremony.

As his thoughts lingered on that particular matter, Ethan found it curious that it was Alcina who suggested having the wedding ceremony performed in a traditional church fashion. Perhaps, after her anathema of existence as a loyal, high-ranking member of the Cult of the Black God Alcina sought to go back to her roots and Christianity offered just that. Moreover, judging by Moreau’s and Donna's current activity, it was apparent that they shared that particular longing as well.

Ethan himself was never a particularly devout follower of faith, despite being baptized as a baby by his somewhat more pious parents. Furthermore, after all the crazy shit he had seen in the last several years, he had a really hard time imagining that there was a benevolent old man up there in the clouds, watching his creations like a proud father would. Surely he would not have permitted the terror and chaos to permeate his world, if that was the case… 

If there was a higher power up there, Ethan was certain that it was cold and indifferent to the immeasurable suffering taking place down below.

Even with that thought in mind, however, Ethan was not going to go and dismiss other people’s convictions or mock their faith. He was not conceited enough to presume that he truly understood how this world works, instead, he knew that he barely had a clue of what was going behind the scenes - his mind-boggling confrontation with Fettel and Alma taught him that much. In the grand scheme of cosmos, all of them were but motes of dust, no matter how hard they tried to change that fact. Faith tried to fill the void of knowledge, for good or evil.

All throughout the ages and ever since its inception, religion - in all of its myriad of forms - gathered the disorderly masses into a single whole, unified by a common cause and tied together by imposed solidarity. 

With the wider world dark and full of terrors, faith was an essential pillar that offered comfort of knowledge that the fate was preordained, and all the people had to do to gain salvation was to follow along the beaten path.

Even in this day and age, faith in the higher power promised a certain sense of normalcy; of belonging to something greater than oneself. It was not an inconceivable development for the former Lords of this valley to seek to return to whence they came from. Of course, repenting for one’s sins was a different story altogether, but simply desiring to do so was a step in the right direction, at least as far as Ethan was concerned.

It certainly helped that most of their victims were either long dead and gone; with the ones still around having actually forgiven them, such as Ethan and Rose.

That said, while Rose was simply too young to remember the atrocity committed against her, Ethan wasn’t, so it would be a bit of a stretch to claim that he had completely moved past their transgressions against his family - perhaps not even time could fully heal the scar left behind. Still, today was definitely not a day to hold petty grudges, not when the actual mastermind was brought to justice and the powerless underlings left behind so desperately wanted to move on.

Putting an end to Ethan’s conundrum, Karl Heisenberg strolled into the church; his bombastic presence immediately spoiling its pristine aura of peace and quiet. Acknowledging Ethan with a nod, Karl cleared his throat before loudly announcing his presence, “There you are, clowns. Come out of your hiding hole - some people are dying to meet you, after all - even though I was kind enough to inform them that neither of you are of any interest whatsoever!” Despite his callous words, Ethan could detect no hints of malice in Heisenberg’s tone.

Like an obedient hound, Salvatore leapt to his feet, bowed deeply before the priest while blabbering out both apologies and gratitude. Not wasting a further moment, the hunchbacked mutant rushed to obey the Lord of Metal. Clearly, even years after Miranda’s demise, Moreau didn’t dare to question the established hierarchy they had for so many decades.

In comparison, Donna was far more reserved, standing up slowly and with dignity. Like her brother, she also expressed gratitude to Father Grigori, though in her typical hushed tone. The clicking of her heels against the stone floor of the church was steady and methodical - every single movement the veiled woman made was carefully calculated.

For just a second, Salvatore’s and Ethan’s gazes connected, and the latter could swear that an ocean of regret was open to his gaze, if only for a moment. As they passed Ethan on their way to Karl, both former Lords shied away from the groom, as if shame and guilt of their actions still gnawed at their souls, making them unable to look him in the eyes. Or maybe Ethan was simply looking too much into it and they were just resentful of the way he had bested them back then - somehow Ethan chose to see the best in people these days, however.

Without being able to peer in the eyes of the Lords who had once so severely wronged both himself and his beloved daughter, Ethan had to satisfy himself by cursorily examining their outfits for today.

Donna Beneviento had a simple dress on, not unlike the funeral garb she wore during that fateful day when Ethan confronted her in her own manor. The one notable difference was the coloration of the outfit - the woman had discarded her grim black from a more neutral gray. Black shoes with a low heel adorned her feet while slim white gloves covered her hands - the only skin Ethan could see was the one that hid behind her closed veil. 

The hideous disfigurement still dominated the right side of her face, though - while hard to fully see behind her obscuring veil - it appeared to Ethan that it had reduced in both severity and volume over the years.

Likewise, Moreau Salvatore seemed to dress up for today, as he sported a very tidy gray tuxedo, with a decorative red rose attached to his left breast pocket, as well as a peculiar red spotted bow tie. The very sight of the repulsive swamp mutant having such a neat outfit left Ethan speechless, though he was not blind to the fact that Moreau’s physical appearance changed just like his clothes did, since the last time he saw him.

Clearly, the years had been kind to what was once a hunch-backed creature that would struggle to pass for a human even in a dense crowd. Somehow, his hunched back was remarkably less noticeable - especially while standing; the fish-like scales around his arms seemed to vanish altogether, leaving behind patches of pale skin; with his face also adopting a more human-like proportions. In fact, the only feature that betrayed his inhuman origin was his pair of bulging eyes that were somewhat larger than what you’d expect an ordinary human to have.

The duo passed Ethan’s pew without incident, though at one point Ethan was sure that Salvatore would stop and exclaim something - only Donna’s intervening hand caused the submissive Lord to abstain from doing so. “Not now…” The woman’s whisper was barely heard by Ethan, and it left the situation ambiguous.

With the former lords departing, the church returned to its peaceful and quiet state. Ethan remained seated in the back pew, pondering about the unresolved situation. It was clear that Donna and Salvatore wanted to have a word with Ethan - and from the pleading look that he managed to catch in Moreau’s gaze, Ethan could assume that the former Lord was about ready to fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness. It's a good thing he was stopped by Donna - today was not a day for such dramatics; they will have plenty of time in the future to settle their differences and grudges in the future - hopefully.

Standing up from his pew, Ethan couldn't help but glance towards the church only other remaining occupant.

Father Grigori stood right below the podium; his back turned towards Ethan and reflections of candlelight dancing on his bald head. The priest did not move a muscle as he appeared to be in some kind of contemplative mood, so not wanting to disturb him, Ethan started to quietly make his way out of the church.

“You’ve done well in sparing these sinners from your righteous wrath, Brother Ethan.” The claim was sudden and unexpected, making Ethan stop dead in his tracks. 

“Those are wicked souls, who have wandered in utter darkness for so very long, yet still they crave the gentle touch of Light - not even they are beyond redemption.”

Father Grigori sounded more lucid than he usually did and his words had an usual level of transparency to them - unlike his typical riddle-like rants.

Ethan stood still for a second after Grigori went quiet. Turning around to regard the priest, Ethan was treated to a completely empty church, now eerie in its utter silence. Just like the wind, the priest was gone. A light goosebumps appeared on Ethan’s skin and without missing a beat, the groom turned around and went on his way out.

No wonder the Duke personally invited this guy. A creepy and enigmatic bastard like him sounds exactly like the Duke’s kind. Probably helps that he is also handy with a shotgun and racked quite a high zombie kill count… am I seeing a trend here…?

Exiting the church and back out into the garden with the assembled guests, Ethan just barely managed to catch a glimpse of the three Lords, accompanied by the Duke, Ada and Leon, vanishing into a house that Ethan knew to be not yet settled. Clearly, some important conversation was about to take place, and while Ethan was naturally curious, he decided that he didn’t want to poke his nose into other people's business too much. Chris - noticing Ethan peering at the closing door into the house, gave the groom a nod. That was enough of a reassurance for Ethan that nothing malicious was going on as he trusted Chris implicitly.

Instead of meddling in the affairs he wasn’t invited to, Ethan turned his attention to two newest arrivals standing next to Chris - Jill and the man he could recognize from the description provided as Carlos.

Carlos Oliveira had a rather dashing dark green suit that fitted his tanned complexion and unruly hair exceptionally well. Of course, Ethan suspected that the suit likely cost a fraction of the man’s choice in today’s footwear, which the groom recognized as an outrageously expensive pair of Testoni shoes. Carlos’ youthful features and passionate eyes bellied his vast combat experience as a soldier of fortune who had fought across countless battlefields.

No less stunning was his female companion. Jill Valentine’s ocean blue dress seemed a perfect match for both her striking eyes and her lithe figure alike. Its peculiar asymmetrical design left her right arm bared up to and including the shoulder, while the left arm was covered fully; a simple black leather glove hiding the limb entirely. While few would fail to notice her beauty in such a glamorous attire, Ethan suspected that its design was not entirely motivated by Jill’s fashion sense - not that even that superficial aspect of that magnificent woman was lacking.

“Rolando decided to give this a pass, I guess?”  Inquired Jill, seeing no aforementioned Hound Wolf operative anywhere.

“Yeah, poor guy has had enough of all this - and I quote, ‘ unnatural fuckery ’. He is happily working as a manager in some boring Sao Paulo transportation company now and didn’t budge on his refusal to travel out here.” Helpfully replied Dion, while sipping on a chilled soft drink he had procured from somewhere.

Jill winced, but nodded in understanding before noticing Ethan walking towards them and waving right at him, “Ethan! Thank you so much for inviting us! This place is truly wonderful - and what an amazing site for a wedding!” The woman appeared genuinely taken by this exotic locale - it was easier for her to do so, considering her personal lack of experience with its former darker side.

Smiling in turn, Ethan happily exchanged greetings with the duo, while taking time to properly introduce himself to Carlos. An irritated voice of that same irritable person once again interrupted their carefree banter.

“Oh, Jill is here, as well. That’s great. Awesome .” Few could miss the bitter sarcasm that seeped from every word.

Cassandra, with her dress smooth and hair silky once more made her second appearance while glaring daggers at Jill - as if she was a direct contender for the heart of one man she cared for. 

In turn, Jill merely smirked at the taller woman, before offering a heartfelt greeting that lacked any hostility whatsoever, “Hello, Cassandra. Chris has been speaking a lot about you!” As she spoke, Jill offered her fully clothed left hand in greeting - a very suspicious gesture that immediately perked both Ethan’s and Chris’ attention. 

That comment instantly toned down the brunette vampire’s aggression, though not to the point where she would not leap at the opportunity to attempt and crush her rival’s palm in a handshake that was far too strong to be a friendly one. Chris rolled his eyes in annoyance, while Ethan felt like facepalming as Cassandra reached her own left hand towards Jill’s obvious trap. Surely she couldn’t be that dense?

Clearly, she could. The instinctual desire to establish dominance clearly glinted in Cassandra’s expressive amber orbs as she was prepared to exert bone-breaking force, though the resulting handshake did not go her way, as everyone but her expected.

“Argh!” Cassandra’s left hand momentarily turned in a buzzing swarm of flies before reassembling back into her human flesh and bone - though that clearly failed to alleviate the pain Cassandra felt as her poor limb was subjected to an inhuman force, “What the fuck?!”

Jill just giggled, before wiggling her left hand’s gloved fingers in front of her face, “Turns out a titanium-aluminum cybernetic hand is far stronger than a normal one! Who would’ve thought!”

As Ethan let out a chuckle himself, he reconsidered his previous thought - Cassandra was totally the kind of person who would forget someone else losing a limb. Therefore, she wouldn’t be able to put two and two together and find something amiss in Jill offering her left hand in greeting. Or maybe she just thought that everyone was like Ethan and was able to reattach their limbs at will.

Regardless, a little bit of karmic retribution for her mean act back in France was delivered, and everyone but Cassandra herself found amusement in the process.

“You should see your face, sis!” Daniela appeared particularly lively at this unexpected (totally expected) turn of events. 

“Not another word from you!” Cassandra ruefully pointed her index finger at her younger sibling, before returning it to nursing her left hand. She was already getting riled up and her famously short temper could not possibly handle further public humiliation, regardless of how minor it was.

Getting the message and not wanting to provoke another fight, Daniela just giggled before playfully covering her mouth with both of her palms. Cassandra hmphed but refrained from taking out her remaining frustration at anyone nearby. Neither of them wanted to spoil this day, after all, and the hour of the ceremony was drawing closer.

Happy that the situation was resolved amicably and that everyone got a couple of laughs from it, Ethan decided to politely express his curiosity about Jill’s unusual predicament, “Acclimating must have been rough…”

Jill gave a slight nod at that, before peering at her outstretched cybernetic arm with a contemplative expression, “I couldn’t even hold a cup without breaking it for the first month. It's better now as my brain works on figuring it out, but even so - it may take years to develop fine motor functions comparable to the old one…”

“At least it must pack a mean punch,” offered Cassandra, appearing genuinely supportive for once. Despite what some thought of her, the brunette Dimitrescu was not completely lacking in empathy, and now that she had her painful reminder that Jill had actually lost an arm in the struggle against their mutual enemy, there was no further enmity from her, only respect.

“That it does.” Jill flexed her fingers, though her face was mirthless, “I could say that I never asked for this…” She looked at Chris next, as she spoke her next words with conviction of a truly selfless person, “but that would be a lie. We made our choice to dedicate ourselves to rooting out evil long ago. We all knew there would be a price to pay.”

Chris’, Carlos’ and Dion’s eyes went downcast. They knew that harsh lesson as well, as they all carried the survivor's burden. It was not an easy thing to watch your comrades die, and they still remembered all the good times they had shared with their lost friends.

Neither Chris nor Dion would forget Charlie Graham, John Perlman or Emily Berkhoff and their noble sacrifice for the common good of all; while Carlos still recalled his old U.B.C.S. squad members with fondness - though not all of them, naturally.

“And while I can’t speak for the dead, I don’t regret my choice whatsoever.” 

Jill’s conclusion resonated throughout the assembled crowd, and as they gazed around them at this beautiful new world, they all felt the same. Their many sacrifices and suffering were not in vain - even if just for a little bit, the world became brighter from their efforts.

“Enough with all the gloomy stuff! Today is a happy day!” Naturally, Daniela wanted to move past the darkness of their past more than anyone else.

As if to support her words with something more substantial, a loud bell started ringing from the direction of the castle. Not long after, an old-fashioned horse-drawn carriage slowly made its way down the hill the castle was built upon. The hour of the ceremony was drawing near and Ethan could feel his heartbeat quickening.

A support pat on his shoulder from Chris was the encouragement he needed to exit his sudden stupor.

“It's time.”

 

***

 

The quaint little church was filled to capacity with well-dressed guests. A cacophony of colors of their vibrant outfits was a testament to the family’s desire for this event to be a merry one. A multitude of happy faces reflected the mirthful atmosphere that had settled in the church. Ethan was certain that this was the most colorful church wedding he had ever attended.

Still as he stood next to the altar, Ethan had to struggle with a sudden onset of anxiety. He was never particularly good with the crowds and today a lot of eyes were on him. It certainly helped that he knew the majority of those present, not even mentioning Chris' reassuring presence at his side, but still, the man connected his gaze with the most familiar form of his beloved daughter - standing next to the front pew, with Alcina and two other young kids nearby.

Surprisingly, Alcina decided to wear an unassuming gray dress today, much like her own so-called brother and sister did. Perhaps even this formidable countess grew tired of being in the spotlight and finally decided that it was time for her daughters to shine?

The two young kids at her side were Sarah and Haru - the two mold mutants crafted by the Connections in the image of Eveline in hopes of taking absolute control of their political opposition. It took a long time to break the behavioral control techniques that were ingrained into their minds by callous associates of Mia, and truthfully, it was still work in progress, even after more than a year has passed since their liberation. The scars left by their experience as Connections’ subjects would take a long time to fully heal, if ever. Thankfully, it appeared that Alcina’s loving treatment of them worked at slowly restoring their prior personalities - that of joyful little kids without a care in the world. They were still very shy and seldomly spoke unless spoken to, but the progress was obvious to anyone they opened up to - such as the three sisters, the countess herself and Rose - who happily agreed to be their playmate during the Winters’ stay in the valley for the last two weeks.

Haru had a white shirt and a blue vest on him, while Sarah sported a vibrant orange dress. Both kids appeared to be both anxious at being surrounded by so many adults, but also happy at being at the center of so much genuine joy.

In the background, Ethan saw the maids of honor entering the church - Daniela and Cassandra both strolled in, wearing pride and joy as their expressions. Bela could’ve never chosen just one among her beloved sisters, so it was only natural that both of them were afforded that prestigious title for today. Thankfully, both of them appeared up to the task, with no signs of their earlier scuffle visible and their pristine dresses reflecting the gentle candlelight.

Turning his attention back towards Rose, Ethan smiled warmly. His beautiful little angel had a cute light pink dress on, with no less cute bows in her hair. Seeing her dad looking at her, Rose smiled at Ethan, though the man could still see some internal conflict going on in the child - he could understand it well. This was a major celebration and Rose appeared genuinely happy for both Ethan and Bela, yet the young child still missed her true mother dearly. Not seeing Mia around on this supposedly happy day was a source of grief for her, and no amount of reassurance could hope to fully alleviate that.

Considering all that he had learnt in the past and knowing that Mia was apparently alive and well, Ethan thought that maybe it was not out of the realm of possibility to one day reunite Rose and Mia - something that would fill both of their hearts with joy, no doubt. 

As if reading his mind, Rose’s smile grew even larger and the child showed Ethan a thumbs up. 

Struggling to suppress a chuckle of his own, Ethan didn’t get the chance to further ponder on the subject, as a new presence took over everyone’s attention - especially his own.

For as gorgeous as all the assembled ladies were and as handsome the men were, none could match the bride’s radiant beauty in this moment - at least not in Ethan’s eyes.

Dressed in all white, Bela appeared almost blinding to Ethan as she took her first steps through the aisle on an inevitable collision that would see them wed. 

Almost like a proud father, Karl Heisenberg led his beloved niece on this symbolic journey, while holding his head straight. Many female guests in the audience couldn’t take their eyes off the handsome and youthful Lord, though naturally, Ethan could only gape at Bela.

From her elegant white stiletto shoes, up her gorgeous snowy gown that seemed to flow alongside her, Ethan’s wide eyes roamed all across his beloved bride. Somehow, despite seeming loose, the dress didn’t fail to accentuate Bela’s feminine figure, while leaving open the upper parts of her body, including her toned arms, slender shoulders and lovely bust.

For once, her delicate neck was unadorned by any kind of jewelry, but that made Ethan all the more eager to shower it in affection, delivered by his roving lips. That would’ve had to wait, however.

And of course, Bela’s beautiful face - the face that Ethan had grown to love more than life itself - was smiling at him - seemingly only at him at this priceless moment in time. Her full lips, delightful cheekbones, lovely nose and gorgeous golden eyes all appear to declare her undying loyalty and love towards him - something that he was only too happy to return in kind. Her long, golden hair flowed behind her, akin to an angelic halo.

To Ethan’s Bela physical form was a perfection that was only matched by the strength of her spirit and the brightness of her mind.

Ethan’s heartbeat quickened even more, with his sight hyperfocusing on the object of his affection, with the rest of the colorful guests becoming a blurry background.

As Bela approached the altar, so did the dazzling effect she had on Ethan increased in intensity; its radiance becoming nearly blinding.

Once Bela and Karl were close enough for Karl to perform the tradition of entrusting her future to Ethan, the husband-to-be could hear nothing but the ringing in his ears, even as he saw Karl’s lips moving around as if speaking something, before settling into a mildly threatening smirk.

Understanding the meaning even with it being inaudible to his crippled senses, Ethan nodded at the man, before tenderly grasping Bela’s offered hand in his own larger palm.

Even though by this point Ethan was implicitly familiar with Bela’s hand - as he was with the rest of her body - he still could only marvel at just how soft and warm it was, or how perfectly it seemed to fit into his own.

As Ethan turned his gaze up from her delicate hand towards her beautiful face, Bela gifted him with that special smile of hers, that she seemingly saved only for him. He felt like the happiest man alive.

With the procession concluded and the groom, the bride, the best man and maids of honor taking their assigned places, Grigori invited everyone present to join in to sing an opening hymn. It was a very long time since Ethan last took part in something like that, but the man found the words flowing naturally out of his mouth, to his own surprise.

After the brief but heartwarming hymn, Father Grigori continued the ritual by reading several passages with a solemn expression, a spark of lucidity glimmering in his eyes for once, yet Ethan could barely hear even these hallowed words that blessed their union in the eyes of the divine. The pressure of the moment was increasing, causing his ears to ring.

It took a second longer than was appropriate for Ethan to respond to the first question the priest demanded an answer for.

"Ethan Winters and Bela Dimitrescu, have you come here freely and without reservation to give yourselves to each other in marriage?"

 

“Yes.” was Bela’s instantaneous answer, with Ethan’s following along.

 

“Yes.”

 

Several more questions followed, with the duo answering them in perfect tandem. There was no doubt in their minds about what they wanted. Still, when it came to the vows themselves, Ethan hesitated just for a moment, as Bela spoke the hallowed words of devotion.

 

“I, Bela Dimitrescu, take you, Ethan Winters, to be my husband. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life.”

 

Ethan had already spoken similar words once… yet he clearly failed to live up to them, considering that there was little love left between him and Mia. Was he truly worthy of repeating them?

As if sensing his inner conflict, Bela offered a comforting smile, as well as gently squeezing his hand. The doubts were vaporized from Ethan’s mind by her reassuring touch.

Everyone deserves a second chance… even I do…

 

“I, Ethan Winters, take you, Bela Dimitrescu, to be my wife. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life.”

 

There was no hesitation in his clearly spoken vow. A couple of guests cheered, mixing this formal occasion with casual joy.

Ignoring them, Grigori reverently accepted the rings from Chris before blessing them and in turn offering the two lovers the physical manifestation of their undying affection for one another.

They exchanged the rings and Ethan took utmost delight in gently placing the wedding band on Bela’s lovely finger, right next to the engagement ring. This priceless moment symbolized their unity and Ethan would remember it for as long as he lived.

The rest of the lengthy traditional ceremony was but a blur to Ethan, as he simply lost himself in Bela’s mesmerizing golden orbs. Both the groom and the bride followed Grigori’s lead as he took them through several traditional rituals.

As they lit the candles, all Ethan could see was the flames’ playful reflection in Bela’s enchanting eyes.

When Grigori placed garland wreaths fashioned as crowns on both Ethan’s and Bela’s heads, Ethan stared at the altar in front of him, yet all he could think about was how fortunate he was.

After that, once they took three sips of wine from a shared cup, Ethan was certain that he managed to taste Bela’s distinct flavor when his turn came.

Following the common cup ritual, the couple was led by Grigori around the altar three times, with a small yet clearly enthusiastic choir gathered from the villagers singing hymns. These were their first steps as the married couple and Ethan felt as light on his feet as ever.

Finally, after Grigori finished reciting the blessings upon the newlyweds, came the grand conclusion.

 

“…I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

 

“You may now kiss the bride.”

 

Bela flashed him a gorgeous smile as she took a step closer. In turn, Ethan, as gentle as he ever was in his life, brought his hands around her back, drawing them closer together. 

Still smiling, Bela closed her eyes, with Ethan following along, even as his lips inched closer towards her own.

The beautiful kiss they shared in the next moment was not nearly as long as some of their more lustful ones, yet it still sent sparks of electricity throughout both of their bodies. The love they conveyed to one another through that brief touch of lips was all-enveloping and it filled their souls with warmth, like a roaring fireplace on a chilly day.

The marriage sealed, not a single guest managed to refrain from cheering as the newlyweds exchanged their first kiss as husband and wife.

 

***

 

The rest of the day and evening passed fast, as all good things tend to do.

After the ceremony had concluded, the wedding procession moved on towards Castle Dimitrescu, where the reception was to be held.

There, in its brightly lit and welcoming corridors, and especially in its decorated inner courtyard, the newlyweds and those around them were free to indulge in carefree conversations and bountiful feast alike.

The once menacing and snow-covered courtyard today was a place of boundless joy as the arranged tables creaked under the weight of luxurious foods and drinks that were delivered just this morning. The freshness of the offered amenities, as well as the mouthwatering smell were exquisite - the Duke had really outdone himself with helping to prepare the reception. Exotic fish, quality meat and premier alcohol filled the guests’ bellies and pleased their taste buds alike.

With the tables brimming with delicacies and the warm sun shining from above; with his beloved wife by his side and good friends all around, Ethan was exuberant. The newlyweds listened to well-wishes, accepted gifts and expressed gratitude for speeches given by their loved ones. 

Like never before, Ethan felt like all the struggles and hardships he had endured were worth it in the end. He has finally found happiness and their newly minted family of three was free to live their lives in peace and prosperity. No gloomy clouds threatened to appear on the horizon anymore. This fairy-tale ending to the horror story that was his life almost felt like a dream, but this time Ethan knew that this was his reality , and he was not going to wake up surrounded by monsters again. 

He was free to love Bela forevermore, and hopefully, she felt the same about him. Rose was free to grow like any child should - carefree and happy, to then have a joyous youth and fulfilling adulthood of her own. The only thing Ethan still secretly craved for was a chance to bring a new life into this world, together with Bela, even if he knew that to be an impossibility. But even if that was the unfortunate case, his existing family was the source of endless happiness for Ethan. He would not dare to want more.

Moreover, with so many people - some of them former enemies, even - wishing them nothing but the best from the bottom of their hearts, Ethan genuinely felt like this majestic day simply could not get any better.

He was wrong, though this time he didn’t mind that.

After a deeply fulfilling yet still exhausting day, it was not a surprise that the couple retired to Bela’s room in the expansive Dimitrescu family castle - though not before seeing Rose fast asleep in the room next door.

Likewise, the guests with busier schedules departed the village altogether, though a number of those with more free time on their hands opted to stay for a day or two more in this rejuvenated valley and bask in its newfound vitality, as well as in the hospitality of the locals - for tonight, Alcina Dimitrescu welcomed every guest to rest at her not-so-humble abode.

Shockingly to Ethan, Alcina’s hospitality extended even further when it came to Chris. One would assume that the noble countess would scorn the gruff soldier’s further presence in her home, especially considering his romantic involvement with her hellion of a daughter.

Instead, with Alcina’s blessing, Chris and a number of people associated with him had repurposed a notable part of the dungeons under the castle for their own use as some kind of makeshift operation center for their clandestine activities - a topic Chris absolutely refused to discuss with Ethan, citing the latter’s safety as paramount. Naturally, Bela and Ethan had a clue just what kind of activities Chris and his associates were engaged in due to Cassandra’s occasional vicious bragging. Truthfully, neither Ethan nor Bela wanted to be involved in any of that, so they limited themselves to wishing Chris and Cassandra best of luck in whatever it is they were up to.

Returning to Bela’s room after taking a quick but refreshing shower, Ethan allowed his musings about Chris’ peculiar activities dissipate. He trusted his friend and was honored to have him as his best man today, but what the former B.S.A.A. Captain did in his spare time was none of his business. Ethan had more important things to attend to anyway, as he gently grabbed the knob of Bela’s door.

Even though Castle Dimitrescu was not Bela’s primary residence anymore, the elder daughter’s room was ever ready to receive its mistress - and her guest.

The new contingent of loyal maids and servants saw to that, per Alcina wishes. No matter how far the Dimitrescu daughters would venture in their exploration of their brave new world, Castle Dimitrescu would always welcome them back.

Ethan mused at how well Bela’s room fit her character as he quietly closed the door behind him. 

Everything was tidy and clean; though Bela had a number of paraphernalia laying around in accordance with her wide circle of interest, each item appeared to be in its rightful place. A number of small but beautiful figurines decorated a case in front of him. A bookcase, filled with neatly-stacked tomes was to his left, while a large ebony desk stood in the corner next to it. Seemingly out of place in this medieval castle, a modern-looking desktop computer occupied the space under the desk, while the monitor was on top of it. An expansive wardrobe to his right hinted that the elder Dimitrescu daughter was not above splurging on fashion, on occasion. A potted plant here and there added nature's touch to the room.

Through an open doorway that led to her bedroom, Ethan could see an ornate fireplace. Though unlit now, a number of pillows neatly arranged around it implied that the owner of the room really liked to simply relax near the soothing warmth it could provide.

Of course, as neat and pretty the room was, Ethan couldn’t truly focus on any of that, not with his attention being immediately drawn to a very specific spot.

A queen-sized bed with black and red bedding dominated the bedroom, and Ethan couldn’t help but wet his lips as his eyes spied a certain blonde figure resting atop it.

“I really liked your wedding gown, though I can’t say you look any worse without it…”

Bela, just in her lacy lingerie, grinned wide at Ethan’s admittedly lame lane. Her delicate index finger beckoned him closer, while her lips formulated words that made Ethan’s heart beat even faster. Her glistering after-shower body was irresistibly captivating.

“Are you going to gawk at me all night, or are you ready to perform your marital duties, dearest husband ?” Bela savored that last word, as if she took an immense amount of satisfaction from merely pronouncing it. Ethan could relate to sentiment fully, as he smirked at his lover, while struggling with unbuttoning his shirt.

“It will be my pleasure, oh dearest wife of mine.”

The lustful spark in Bela’s expressive orbs told Ethan she was very happy with his response. Despite the fact that their relationship was more than a year old by now, the flames of passion between them did not vane in the slightest - it seemingly only grew to the point where Chris joked about Ethan being addicted to Bela and their midnight activities - to which Ethan justly parried about Chris being obsessed with Cassandra in turn - the large man had nothing to respond to that.

Even though both of them were rightfully tired after the eventful wedding and more socializing than either of them did in an ordinary week, the lovemaking session that followed Ethan joining Bela in bed was both vigorous and lengthy. Perhaps the knowledge that they were not merely having sex but consummating their marriage gave enough energy for both of the lovers to quench the lust they had for one another… for tonight.

After achieving yet another release - the one that has left him utterly spent - Ethan allowed his sweaty body to collapse next to Bela. Panting hard, Ethan allowed his ears to feast upon the lovely sounds his wife made as the remnants of her own release still held her body in throes of ecstasy.

“Have I…hah…” Ethan struggled to manifest his speech as something more than a slurred mess, “performed my marital duties to your satisfaction, oh noble lady of mine?”

Bela half-laughed, half-snorted something that Ethan deciphered as an affirmative response.

Feeling contentment like rarely before, Ethan still had to expend some effort to stand up in a bid to turn off the light in the bedroom before rejoining Bela on the bed.

Lying on his back, Ethan had expected to drift off to sleep almost instantly, yet somehow the man found himself wanting to stay awake for a bit more. For a couple of minutes, he simply stared at the ceiling while contemplating just how fortunate he was, despite all the harrowing hardships he went through.

Turning around to behold his wife, Ethan found that Bela likely thought the same, as she mirrored his position, with her gorgeous golden eyes locked onto his. Pale moonlight managed to reach them all the way through the tall window in her room, providing a modest source of natural light - just enough for them to be able to gaze at one another. Offhandedly, Ethan noted that the moon’s current position implied that they were c onsummating their marriage for quite a while.

Bela stared at him with contentment; a small smile played on her full lips. Ethan tasted these lips countless times, yet he still craved more - a quick peck made her let out a giggle of amusement.

“I love you so much, Ethan…” the suddenness of her claim, combined with its passion, made Ethan lose the gift of speech for a second.

“And I love you, Bela… so, so very much.”

Bela beamed at him, then opened her mouth as if to say something, but apparently changed her mind as her mouth closed without letting a sound off; the woman averted her eyes, making Ethan quite curious as to what was going through her head at the moment; it was not like her to not speak her mind to him.

Bela lightly cleared her throat - a little habit she had when she was troubled about something, as Ethan learnt - before speaking, “Have you thought about where you want to spend our honeymoon, Ethan?”

Most people planned stuff like that far in advance, but with the Duke’s assurances that they had but to name the place for him to arrange everything, Ethan had allowed that subject to fade into the background as they prepared for the wedding. He honestly didn’t care that much about where, as long as they were together. Bela pretty much told him that she felt the same, therefore her current query felt like a change of topic to Ethan, though he happily played along, nevertheless.

“Not really, what about you? I am really fine with wherever you wanna go, Bells.”

The woman frowned a little bit, adopting a pensive expression. “I’ve always been fascinated by Asian culture… Japan, perhaps?”

As the mention of the island country, Ethan was immediately assaulted by the vivid imagery of Bela dressed in a beautiful Japanese kimono, with her hair tied in that traditional bun style; pink sakura petals falling all around her.

It was rather dark despite the moonlight, yet a knowing grin implied that Bela was quite aware of Ethan’s sudden blush. In a bid to get back at her, Ethan tried to regain his composure with a playfully teasing remark.

“Japan, eh? Sounds good… but I get to call you Bela-chan, then.”

Her amused response was instantaneous, “Only if I get to call you Ethan-kun.”

“Sounds like a deal.”

The newlyweds shared a quick laugh, both finding amusement in their shared interest in a certain product Japan was known for.

The laughter died quick enough, but the sense of silent joy remained. Bela was often taken as a closed individual by strangers, aloof even. But with him, she was entirely open, trusting Ethan implicitly - knowing that he would always support her; never mock her insecurities or peculiarities. Just like he did. They could jest around or have banter about some nonsense; they could be weird around one another with no judgment - only mutual respect and love.

The duo allowed silence to reign in the room, content to simply gaze at one another, though Ethan went further by wrapping a hand around Bela’s shoulder, bringing them closer together under their shared blanket. With the window open, it was getting a little chilly in the room and Ethan would hate for his beloved to get cold, after all - not that there was a lack of personal interest in holding her warm, soft body close to his own.

“There was…” Bela appeared unsure, even a little afraid as she nibbled on her lower lip. Ethan immediately wanted to comfort her, yet he allowed her to finish her sentence first, “...something else I wanted to tell you.”

Ethan figured as much. He caressed her smooth back with tender motions, even as he asked in a gentle tone, “What is it, hon?”

Bela let out a small awkward giggle at the fond term of address, before averting her eyes for a second. Ethan would lie if he claimed he was not getting worried at the strange behavior. He still patiently waited for her to assert her thoughts, hoping that his gentle ministrations of her back would give her all the reassurances she needed - no matter what she was going to say, he would still love her with all his heart.

After a couple of moments that felt far too long for Ethan, Bela let out a nervous sigh, before finally reconnecting their eyes. 

Ethan knew that today would mark the start of a new life for him, but he couldn’t even begin to anticipate just how much things were going to change. A new family life of unbound joy awaited.

 

“Ethan… I am pregnant.”

Notes:

So this was actually the biggest chapter in this story; even though it took me quite a while to write it and though I've decided about wanting to write it like half a year ago, I am still not sure if I did this scene justice :/ Hope you guys enjoyed it at least and it was not a tedium to get through it.

I bet not many saw it coming that the wedding would be held in the Village of all places, right? xD I honestly allowed my fantasy to roam free in this chapter, so I hope it worked out. I've been thinking about who could be the one to officiate the ceremony, and my mind came with a blank when it came to RE universe... a sudden inspiration helped me come with a peculiar guest character from another fandom - I hope at least someone recognized Father Grigori and I am not 'that' old xD.

Also, it was not my idea that Chris could use Alcina's castle as a sort of a base for his activities - that peculiar yet catching idea belongs to PotCFan101 and his vast array of interesting crossover stories on ff.net! I really felt like it would be fitting here, that Alcina in her quest for redemption would offer Chris a hand in his and Cassandra's mission to purge the world of evil in the most direct and brutal way possible.

Finally, I've decided that there will be one more chapter for this story - a 51th one, the true epilogue. It will be much shorter than this one and will occur after a very long time skip. You could probably guess exactly who it will involve :)

As always, thanks for reading! Feel free to leave any piece of feedback you'd fancy; regardless of that - have a splendid week, everyone! :)

Chapter 51: Epilogue: Scarred Roses

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

???

 

Bela walked through the shadowed halls of her castle with firm steps, the clicking of her heels against the tiled floor even and methodical. She was in no hurry, after all her dearest sisters would not be challenging her this time; Mother’s praise would be hers alone today. The prize she dragged behind her would ensure that.

With purpose, Bela moved towards her destination, though a peculiar scene forced her to take a small pause.

Intrigued by an unusual commotion in a normally silent castle, Bela peered into a room to her right, which resembled a compact courtroom. She didn’t question its unexpected presence in her castle; nor did she question why she didn’t question it - she merely accepted it as an indisputable fact and enjoyed the change of pace.

The courtroom was filled to capacity, with tie-wearing yet still indubiously feral lycans serving as audience, while the judge himself was none other than her own Uncle Heisenberg. The jury appeared to be composed of human villagers, but the veils on their faces made it hard for Bela to tell who exactly they were - not that she cared; these lesser creatures were of little concern to the noble scion that was Bela Dimitrescu.

Karl Heisenberg addressed the defendant in a bored tone, while adjusting his hat. “You are being accused of murdering and consuming your friend and lover Chris Redfield; a former B.S.A.A. captain and a royal pain in the ass. Do you deny your guilt?” The assembled lycans hollered in bloodlust as the man stated the crime.

The defendant, none other than Cassandra Dimitrescu, only grinned wide, her pearly white teeth providing a stark contrast to her black lips and blood-smeared face.

“She is clearly guilty, your honor!” The accuser, a lowly human by the name of Jill Valentine tried to plead her case. Instinctively, Bela snarled, while gripping her sickle tight with her left hand. Nobody dared to besmirch the noble name of Dimitrescu, not even when the crime was obvious. Likewise, the mass of lycans howled for the blood of the arrogant human, while making threatening and offensive gestures her way.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Karl struck hard with his gavel, “Silence!” before once again addressing the accused, “do you have nothing to say in your defense, dearest niece?” 

Cassandra, still grinning, made a motion of slowly licking her black lips before finally deigning the court with her haughty, dramatically drawn-out response.

“He was delicious.”

The courtroom fell into a momentary silence as those present processed the response. It didn’t take long for the judge to burst into a roaring laughter, which was immediately picked up by the lycans and the accused herself; the jury hushed among themselves instead, appearing nervous.

Ignoring all the proper procedures, Karl struck with his gavel once more, while declaring with an air of finality, “With these extenuating circumstances in mind, I find the accused innocent.”

Jill and the jury exploded into a flurry of vehement protests, which were only met by vicious roars of lycans and cackling laughter of Cassandra.

Striking the gavel once more, Karl sniffed and exclaimed, “this session of the court is concluded. All may rise.”

As commanded, the assembled lycan horde shot to their feet, only to fall upon the human jury in a feeding frenzy of tooth and claw. The human death rattle was accompanied by an occasional gunshot, courtesy of Jill; as well as ever-louder mad cackling of Cassandra.

Sniffing in satisfaction, Bela departed the scene of mayhem, content with its conclusion. This brute of a victim thought to tame their huntress - it was only fitting that he had met his end at her fangs. She still bemoaned the bloody mess the courtroom turned into. She was totally not cleaning that up.

Not long after leaving the courtroom behind, Bela stumbled upon the opera hall. Stopping for a second to peer into it, Bela couldn’t help but groan from exasperation, as it was filled with corpses too numerous to count. Blood and viscera covered seemingly every inch of that once-pristine room, and the scent of piss and decay was overwhelming, making the blonde turn her nose. She was not that fond of human waste, despite the insectoid part of her being.

Right in the middle of the opera hall, next to the grand piano itself was Daniela. She was as splattered in blood as the rest of the room as she crouched over a corpse too mutilated to recognize. Like a wild beast, the youngest Dimitrescu had engorged herself on her latest kill, ripping through its ribcage and face alike. 

The feral trance didn’t last long and the vampire soon had her fill. Suddenly appearing reverent, Daniela finished her grim feast as she held the still-beating heart of her victim in her gloved palms, a serene smile on her face that was completely at odds with the surrounding scene of massacre.

“Thank you, my friends… and thank you, Tom, for your noble sacrifices.” Daniela spoke with clear hints of delirium in her voice; Bela understood immediately that she was in one of her delusional episodes she was infamous for. Having little desire to deal with her younger sister while she was in such a state, Bela only huffed and passed along, while rolling her eyes at the theatrics spewed by Daniela, “now we can be together…forever!” The insane giggling that followed sent shivers down Bela’s spine, even despite her own hardened by horror mind.

Now thoroughly annoyed by her siblings, Bela finally arrived at her mother’s personal room, only to discover that the matriarch was busy conversing with yet another bothersome individual.

“Yes, Mother Miranda.” How Bela hated the submissive tone Alcina used when speaking to that arrogant bitch Miranda. “The Children are prepared to sacrifice themselves to resurrect you and Eva both.”

Alcina was always eager to please Miranda, and Bela understood why - the priestess quite literally owned the Dimitrescu family and they had no choice but grovel before her if they wanted to retain her favor and therefore continue their existence. It didn’t mean Bela had to like it…

Too frustrated to display her usual good manners, Bela entered through the open doorway to Mother’s room, only to behold the pacing matriarch herself, as well as the two young girls that obediently stood by, a teenager with wavy blonde hair and a younger one with long, obscuring ebony locks. Their faces were blurred, yet a profound sense of unease resonated throughout Bela, alongside a piercing headache that forced her to look away from the small figures, though a lingering sense of inexplicable dread remained - which Bela tried to dispel by slipping back into her habitual motions.

“Mother, I bring you fresh pre-” Bela wasn’t even allowed to finish her servile announcement, as the countess’ gloved hand lurched in a clear not now motion; Alcina’s eyes glared daggers at her daughter for her intrusion, making the smaller woman gulp in fright. The nine foot tall Dimitrescu matriarch was fearsome indeed, especially when lines of anger marred her perfect face. Something didn’t feel quite right about Mother’s height, though just like everything else, Bela didn’t question it.

Submissively backing down and giving the countess the space to continue her conversation, Bela could only be horrified by the direction it took.

“The Children are not enough?” Alcina frowned as she listened to Miranda’s indecipherable response. The matriarch's red lips twisted into a rueful grimace for a moment, “I see…” The sadness in her expression was replaced by grim determination soon enough, setting a spark of fear in Bela’s heart, even before she spoke her next words, “In that case, my daughters and myself will contribute to the ritual, for your and Eva’s glory, Mother Miranda.”

Horrified beyond words at the dire implications of their unenviable fate, Bela let out a gasp of fear before stumbling backwards, away from her beloved mother who had just promised their lives away.

The heel of her shoe must have gotten stuck in the crack of the tile as suddenly Bela was on a rapid descent towards the ground. The crash against the cold floor was painful, yet it was not the physical pain that brought the most distress to the Dimitrescu scion.

Ending up face to face with the object she was dragging all this time, Bela was confronted with the strikingly familiar face. A pair of eyes, once filled with compassion and strength alike, now were glazed over in death. A name that was beyond this world of nightmares was suddenly etched into her brain.

 

Ethan

 

Unspeakable terror gripped Bela’s heart, a crippling fear so potent that it left no space for anything else. She wanted to scream, yet her voice was gone, just like everything else.

 

***

November 29th, 2033

St. Johns County, Florida

 

Bela’s amber eyes shot open. Cold sweat clung to her brows as her heart hammered in her chest. The haze of dreams was slow to part, shrouding the woman in obscure horror. The existential dread filled her soul, though the bright spark of her rational mind did its best to combat it.

The familiar outline of her favorite chandelier loomed overhead, providing the distressed woman with her first tangible grasp on reality.

We bought this just a month ago… I and Ethan, together…Ethan!

The fear retreated for a just moment, only to return back tenfold. She could not recall the details of her horrific nightmare, but the all-consuming feeling of dread was triggered by her worry for her beloved husband.

Turning her head right, towards the source of pleasant warmth, Bela felt instant solace as her wide-open eyes locked on the sleeping visage of Ethan - her husband of eight years.

The man was sleeping soundly; his face relaxed in comfort - no nightmares haunted his dreams for tonight and for that Bela was grateful. The love she felt for him hardly waned in the years of their marriage and she was happy that at least he seemed to have a peaceful slumber tonight.

Their marriage has been nigh-idyllic, with barely a quarrel to occasionally disrupt the monotony of their harmonic relationship. They treated each other, as well as their children, with love, respect and understanding. Whenever an argument would arise, it would be resolved with calm words, not with yells or fists.

Moreover, just like both of them wanted, the life of misery and death was left firmly in the past. There had been no enemies that needed vanquishing, no foes to slay and no monsters to flee from. Instead, their family was finally allowed to experience the bliss of peace, as well as an ordinary life they longed for; with the kids attending school and themselves working during the weekdays and enjoying each other’s company on weekends, with an occasional vacation to a yet unexplored corner of the world.

They were happy. They felt fulfillment. They were complete.

Yet…

The nightmares still persisted, for Bela and for Ethan.

Even after so long, the horror of their past would not let them be and on occasion one of the lovers would wake up in the middle of the night, covered in sweat; sometimes screaming, sometimes thrashing, sometimes merely paralyzed by fear. Were the other also awakened by the fright of their partner, either Bela or Ethan would react with compassion towards the plight of the love of their life, providing soothing touch and calming words. A lover’s gentle caress could do miracles in dispelling the horrors of the dark dreams… still, there appeared to be no permanent solution to their shared issue.

Bela recognized this unenviable predicament as a sort of a mental scarring, left behind by the countless horrors they survived. Even though much time had passed, some scars never truly healed, and Bela speculated that these were exactly that kind. If that was the case, however, Bela bore these scars with pride - they were her badge of strength, the eternal reminder of the odds she overcame; that she was a stronger person today than she had been back then. These scars made the beautiful life she now shared with Ethan all the more precious; their love all the more cherished; the peace all the more valued.

Now fully awake, Bela allowed her body to relax as her mental reflection chased some gloom of the nightmare away. She was always good at rationalizing the unpleasant parts of her life.

Gazing at her husband, Bela longed to plant a loving kiss on his lips, to gently caress his check as she did so. On their own volition, her hands stretched towards Ethan, eager to bask in his warmth. Nevertheless, with some inner grumbling, Bela put a stop to that notion, however. Ethan had a difficult week at work, with much workload laying on his shoulder after a sudden resignation of his co-worker. He deserved his uninterrupted rest for as much as was possible. Nightmares awoke him often enough and she did not want to add to the black bags that were starting to appear under his eyes.

Therefore, instead of seeking comfort in Ethan’s hands - something he would’ve been eager to provide regardless of his own state of increased fatigue - Bela carefully glided out of their shared bed, making sure not to disturb her beloved.

While nothing could truly replace the affection of Ethan’s embrace, Bela had a number of other methods that could soothe her frayed nerves after a particularly vivid nightmare.

The first of them was as simple and straightforward as it gets, with Bela making her way towards the upper floor’s bathroom, though a certain object stubbing her bare toe prompted a pause, while causing the woman to have to suppress the desire to let out a half-hearted curse.

Her daughter was precious to Bela like nobody else. The elder Dimitrescu sibling had not a shadow of a doubt that she would not hesitate to die or, indeed, to kill for the sake of her beloved child, if it ever came down to that. That said, Bela still found some of her daughter’s antics to be an annoyance, such as her inclination to leave her toys all over the floor, where her hapless mother could stumble upon them in the dead of night.

Making a mental note to hold yet another conversation with her daughter in the morning, Bela took a moment to put the offending LEGO construct on a nearby shelf, before resuming her walk towards the bathroom. Her daughter had a good heart, but her spunky and spirited ways, combined with her youth made her a handful, sometimes. Bela would not trade her for anything.

Finally at the bathroom, Bela flicked the switch on, allowing the light to bask upon its ornate exterior. They’ve splurged quite a bit on this room, much like they did on the rest of the house, but Bela felt like it was worth every cent. With its black and gold tiled walls and shaded lightning, Bela could sometimes spend an entire hour in its sizable ceramic bathtub; a cup of cocoa on the tub’s side and a good book in her hands.

Tonight, however, she would limit herself to approaching the sink and splashing her face with pleasantly chill water, washing the sticky sweat away.

“Ah… that’s better,” whispered Bela before wiping her face with her favorite maroon towel.

Putting the towel away, Bela took a moment to gaze at her own reflection. She knew herself to be a beautiful woman, if only from all the affection showered upon her by Ethan. Moreover, the years had been kind to her, with her features still remaining smooth and youthful… but not to the degree she had once anticipated.

Bela couldn’t help but frown as she spotted a minor, barely perceptible wrinkle on her left cheek.

For a long time, the Dimitrescu siblings had assumed that they possessed a biological immortality - that is, they would never die from old age. Immediately after Miranda’s demise, however, Bela noted some slight, elusive shift to the way her body felt - something that her siblings acknowledged, as well - though it took the family moving to Cuba for them to note it. There were signs even back, but now Bela was certain that they were aging once again.

While she could only speculate upon the reason, her own personal theory about this peculiar shift was the destruction of the megamycete colony under Miranda’s former village.

Bela knew that they had been tied to it by an unseen thread; that if they were to perish in its proximity, their very cadou-infused essence would return back to whence it came. In turn, the mold colony had provided an ethereal stream of rejuvenating energy that kept them youthful and in prime condition - ever ready to defend it. 

Instead of living up to its expectations, however, the Dimitrescu family had abandoned their font of strength to destruction at the hands of Chris Redfield, but Bela had no regrets about that; none whatsoever.

Even though, just like for most women, the prospect of eventually losing her beauty was somewhat unpleasant, Bela found herself not minding it too much. Even the now inevitable death did not frighten her, for Bela was happy to live a normal life with her loved ones. To watch their children grow into fine young women, to age alongside them and to eventually - hopefully not for a while though! - allow the younger generation to succeed them. A natural cycle of life and death provided the perspective one needed to truly appreciate the precious moments that they shared with those they cared about.

Having considered that, Bela stepped away from the mirror, while giving herself a sexy wink. Still feeling a bit on edge after the unsettling nightmare, Bela quietly left the bathroom and proceeded to descend down the stairs towards the first floor’s kitchen. Her fingers glided down the wooden handrails of the stairway and the woman took a moment to appreciate the pleasant sensation touching the maple provided. Enhancing the mundane descent even further, the painted rendition of Castle Dimitrescu that decorated their main hall was a joy for her eyes, as well, though she could not fully appreciate this masterpiece by a modern day Michelangelo with only the moonlight providing visibility.

Humming in satisfaction, Bela allowed her bare feet to touch upon the heated floor tiles of the first floor. The pleasant warmth graced her soles, while a no-less pleasant breezy wind from outside the partially open window tickled the exposed skin of her arms.

Though the large house was shrouded in semi-darkness, Bela had no trouble navigating her way towards the kitchen, due to her obvious familiarity with the place. Not only did she develop an intimate knowledge of the house after living in it for three years, but the whole dwelling was constructed according to her personal architectural design in the first place; paid for by the money earned by Bela and Ethan themselves, with only a little contribution from the shared Dimitrescu account. Bela took a measure of pride from the fact that her beloved husband and two daughters shared this marvel of a house with her.

It had everything a family of four needed: spacious living room, comfortable bedrooms and even a small library - while Bela was quite adept with modern technology that rendered regular books obsolete, there was no feeling quite like holding a venerable tome with your own fingers, as far she was concerned. 

In their expansive backyard was a heated and illuminated swimming pool, as well as a terrace with a grill nearby, though these did not interest Bela at the moment. In a couple of days her sisters and their companions would arrive for a visit, and then these amenities would surely be used to the enjoyment of all, but for now, Bela had her eyes on a certain object in the kitchen, even as she continued to try and recall the details of her nightmare, to no avail. Maybe it was a blessing to not be able to remember such horror, after all.

In truth, Bela’s nightmares served to provide a peculiar contrast between her grim past and bright present, though that didn’t mean that the elder Dimitrescu daughter was not affected by them. A little something would always help her clear her mind and dismiss the remnants of the horror away, however.

Opening the wine cooler, Bela reverently grabbed Alcina’s personal gift to her beloved daughter - a fresh bottle of Sanguinis Innocentis - a wine that was made with all the same ingredients and with that same level of care as their old one, yet the blood for it was harvested from select willing donors, who were then promptly compensated for their troubles.

For a while, Bela had wanted to abandon her habitual blood-drinking and even tried to do so several times, but some habits are harder to drop than others. Going too long without fresh blood caused a plethora of issues for the Dimitrescu sibling, such as increased irritability, headaches, anxiety, weakness, fatigue and eventually an overwhelming desire to rip and tear into the nearest human. This addiction was psychological rather than physical in nature and Bela knew that their bodies did not actually need human blood to survive - given enough time she knew that it would be possible to break it for good, yet…

Bela uncorked the bottle and poured some of the precious blood wine into a cup. Slightly shaking the cup before taking a deep sniff of it, Bela allowed herself to let out a sigh of delight.

Smells so good…

It was Ethan who had convinced Bela not to torment herself in her attempts to abandon the unnatural craving that has been a part of her existence for as long as she could remember.

‘As long as nobody is getting hurt and people are happy selling your family the blood, there is no harm at all, Bells… don’t torture yourself.’ - were his exact words, and Bela smiled as she recalled them with fondness. Ethan always cared about her well-being and comfort and she in turn did everything in her power to not inconvenience her family with her inhuman biology.

Taking a sip of the wine, Bela allowed herself to enjoy the deviant delicacy, even as she slowly moved towards the backyard window, eager to feast her eyes upon their illuminated swimming pool.

After decades of miserable darkness and perpetual gloom of their existence as Miranda’s lapdogs, life has taken a turn Bela had never expected from it.

She was beyond content. She’d had to rack her brain to even think of something else she desired to have in her life - everything was just that good right now. Her mother and sisters were happy with their own lot; she had a loving husband and two beautiful girls; a circle of good and loyal friends; a gorgeous house in a friendly and perpetually warm neighborhood; a fulfilling job as an architect. What else could she want?

In fact, life was so good that Bela would often find herself questioning if she was truly worthy of such a fulfilling existence after the atrocities she had committed herself. And once again, whenever dear Ethan would see her in a downed mood when such thoughts would strike her, he would always provide comfort with soothing touch and gentle words of reassurance.

Finishing her glass and letting out a sigh of utter contentment, Bela placed the glass in a sink and with unhurried steps made her way back towards her bedroom; her soul and mind fully at ease.

Before she would resume her slumber, however, a sudden longing made itself known, just as she was passing the door to her beloved daughter’s bedroom.

Pausing before the closed door, Bela smiled with fondness as her single index finger lightly glided along the surface of the barrier that separated her from her own flesh and blood. A true wonder that she would protect with every fiber of her being.

For so many decades, Bela and her sisters were certain that their unnatural condition made them infertile; that the only thing they could bring into this world was more death, but certainly not life. Moreover, while living in their dark castle and surrounded by misery, not one of them would even want to have a child - for what kind of life would await him or her?

With Ethan at her side, Bela had wanted to try. She knew that with their human DNA mostly intact, a Dimitrescu sibling should’ve been able conceive - in theory, if not in practice. The fact that none of them ever did, despite a number of sexual contacts with various men over the long decades, implied that there was something else that was inhibiting the life-giving process.

A daring thought had visited her mind then, even before the wedding with Ethan. If conception was possible, what if the very act of shapeshifting precluded embryo’s development? It could never last long enough to evolve into a fetus without a stable womb to support its efforts, after all; that’s not even mentioning that her swarmshape entity likely considered a developing embryo as a foreign organism… discarding it altogether… ending the precious life before it could even truly begin.

Therefore, in an attempt to prove her theory and - far more importantly - bring life into this world, Bela had run an experiment in which she had refrained from using her swarm form. It was not as simple as merely avoiding using it intentionally, as it was an ingrained part of her being - an instinctual response to perceived threat; sometimes it would even trigger from powerful emotion alone. Still, Bela was nothing if not determined, and through long hours of meditation she had achieved complete mastery over her own body.

And the result was more than she could ever dare hope for. A child was conceived, hers and Ethan’s, and a healthy baby girl was born.

Bela felt tears of joy starting to glimmer below her eyelashes as she recalled the beautiful moment when her daughter had been born, eight years ago. Gently opening the door, making sure not to disturb her little angel, Bela sneaked into the room to catch a glimpse of her pride and joy.

Even through the darkness of the night, Bela’s amber orbs locked on upon the sleeping child that was her daughter. Leaning against the wall, the blonde woman couldn’t help but let her gaze admire this youthful little thing, even as her mind reminisced about that wondrous occasion that was her daughter’s birth and what it meant for them as parents and people.

The child that was born out of Ethan’s and Bela’s union was a precious little bundle of joy that made both proud parents cry with pure happiness - that much was obvious.

For Ethan, that was yet another proof that the love between the two of them was a real, tangible thing that affected the world around them. From the moment he had learnt of the child’s existence, the man swore that he would protect her with everything he had, just like he protects Rose. 

For Bela, this momentous occasion was even more important, if that was even possible. After all the death she brought into the world, bringing life into it purified her soul from her own crushing guilt for her violent ways of old. In a way, Bela felt herself reborn the moment her precious child came into this world.

Bela had been determined to raise her child with love and kindness, applying a firm hand to ensure that she would grow into a decent human being. She would do anything to guarantee that her daughter would not have to go through the misery and suffering of her own troubled upbringing - there would be no needless cruelty or callous murder in her life; that said, woe upon anyone who would dare to threaten her precious child. So far, Bela had lived up to her unspoken promise.

As for the child herself…

It had been surprisingly easy to settle on a name once they held their newborn girl in their arms.

Eveline

A beautiful name. But even more than that, a tribute to the memory of the one they had lost; the one that sacrificed everything for them to have a chance at a happy life.

Young Eveline was a happy baby - always laughing and making faces. As a toddler, she also gained a mischievous quality, causing no shortage of both mirth as well as mayhem for her parents. To their boundless happiness, Eveline's childhood was filled with nothing but heartwarming moments of genuine love and affection; with Rose instantly warming up to her newest sister.

The girls played together and their parents were free to enjoy the priceless sight that was their daughters simply living their childhood with carefree mirth - just like any young kids should.

As Eveline kept growing, however, one particular trait had become shockingly apparent to both Ethan and Bela.

Eveline’s physical appearance and even core mannerisms were eerily similar to that of her namesake, a fact which only became more and more apparent as years passed. One couldn’t mistake these wavy ebony locks or light green eyes.

This was more than a coincidence, both Bela and Ethan knew that much, and initially the peculiar conundrum had left them with feelings of uncertainty.

That feeling hadn’t lasted long, however, as neither Bela nor Ethan began to think less of their own daughter just because of her uncanny resemblance to her namesake. She was still their flesh and blood and they were determined to love her as such; to provide a childhood she could cherish for the rest of her life. For them, nothing had changed.

Still standing in the open doorway and gazing at her child with nothing but maternal love, Bela had to suppress the urge to spontaneously embrace her soundly sleeping daughter in an affectionate hug. That would have to wait till the morning. 

Bela wiped off the glimmering wetness pooling at her eye with her index finger, experiencing an outpour of positive feelings that served as a stark contrast to the existential horror she had felt after awakening from her nightmare, rendering the woman quite emotional. Suppressing a sniff, the blonde gave her daughter one more fond glance before departing the room as quietly as she had entered it.

Feeling uplifted, yet still somewhat emotionally drained from the accumulated dread and joy alike, Bela was quite eager to return to her sleeping husband’s side, to continue her own slumber - hopefully without any further nightmares to torment her.

As she returned to their bedroom, however, a pair of half-lidded eyes greeted her.

“Another nightmare?”

The compassion and understanding in Ethan’s voice was unmistakable. Already mellowed out from extensive emotional moments and alcohol alike, Bela felt herself on the brink of tears from the sheer love she had for this man. Forcing the tears back, the woman only sniffed before slowly making her way towards their bed, even as she responded to his question.

“Yeah, but I am alright now, hon.” Bela tucked a lock of blonde hair behind her ear as she continued, sounding a bit apologetic, “did I wake you?”

Ethan shook his head, before leaning in and stealing a quick kiss from her approaching lips. Bela reciprocated instantly before allowing herself an amused chortle. Even after years of marriage, Ethan would never allow an opportunity to interlock their lips to pass, and Bela loved him all the more for it.

“Quiet as a mouse, as always. And they say Daniela is a sneaky one.” Ethan finally responded to her previous question; mirth glinting in his eyes.

Letting out a satisfied hum, Bela got into a comfortable position by scuttling closer to Ethan and wrapping her arms around his torso. The heavenly sensation of his strong yet gentle arms around her back was phenomenal, not dulled by years of repetition in the slightest.

“How come you’re awake then?” Bela was certain Ethan was soundly asleep when she went out on her nightly rounds - no nightmare held him in its vile grip.

The man leaned in to inhale her scent, before placing a loving kiss on her neck. It made Bela crave more. 

“Perhaps the painful absence of my fair lady itself stirred me awake.”

Bela allowed herself a quiet giggle at his dramatism. One might not think that way from their first glance at the man, but Ethan was quite a romantic at his moldy heart. Not only did the man always knew what to say to put a smile on her face, but Ethan was not above spoiling her rotten with frequent candlelight dinners or forays into opera and theater venues. That’s not to say any of them were above simply watching a movie together or even playing some co-op game, however.

It was still a few hours before dawn and Bela felt herself drowsy, now that the soothing alcohol was coursing through her bloodstream and her husband held her firmly in his warm embrace.

“Well, I am here now…” mumbled the woman in between yawning, nuzzling up against Ethan; his own delightful scent being an intoxicating mixture for her nostrils.

The man yawned in turn, “...and I wouldn’t want you anywhere else.”

Bela smiled, though her eyes were already closed. In a minute both lovebirds were sound asleep, their last waking thoughts before the slumber reclaimed them being how fortunate they were. Nothing but pleasant dreams awaited them in the hours before the sunlight.

 

***

 

September 15th, 2036

Hong Kong Special Administrative Region

 

Only on her 16th birthday was Rose able to talk her dad and Bela into allowing her to enroll into a particular transfer student program in Hong Kong. Even though they both knew that Rose could take care of herself against almost every conceivable threat - not the least due to the extensive training Bela had undertaken with Rose to properly develop and control her mold powers, with Uncle Chris often supervising the sessions - her parents were very protective of their not-so-little Rose.

Rose still remembered that silly incident when some bully wannabe tried to shake her down for lunch money in 4th grade. Bela - normally a composed and pleasant woman - had a look of pure murder in her eyes once she had learnt about it. Rose had no idea what exactly had occurred when Bela went to speak with the boy’s parents, but that bully had never bothered her again. Her step-mom could be scary, there was no mistaking that.

It was still surprising that Dad and Bela had ultimately agreed to let her come to this foreign country unsupervised, but Rose guessed that even their ‘little Rose’ had to grow up someday. They had an argument about her journey here, Rose knew that much, as heated as it gets between them, even. As they both knew the true purpose of this visit, Bela had called it irresponsible to let her go by herself; potentially dangerous even. Dad, however, had the last word in that conversation, and ultimately he believed that she would never bring harm to her own daughter; as well as realizing that Rose was old enough to make her own life choices.

Therefore, on this rainy September day, a sixteen year old Rosemary Winters found herself all alone in an unfamiliar city of Hong Kong, her luggage behind her and her favorite baseball cap on its proper spot on her head.

Of course, it was not a flight of fancy that brought her here, but a desire to meet a certain someone. Someone important to her.

Rose could only let out a slight sigh of disappointment as she entered her rented dwelling. It was a perfectly habitable space, but after the lap of luxury that was the Winters family house, Rose knew that she would take some time to acclimate to these relatively inferior living conditions.

Not that she truly cared about mundane things such as luxury at this moment; it was mostly just her anxiety rearing its head. 

Leaving the luggage unpacked, the young woman swiftly vacated the flat even without properly checking it out. She had an important rendezvous to attend, after all - she would not be late to it for the world.

Rose adjusted her baseball cap in a way that partially concealed her face as she left the apartment complex and merged in with the busy crowds of Hong Kong. For simple tourists or students this was probably as safe a place as could be in the world, but Rose still felt uneasy knowing just what kind of treatment she could expect if her kind got on the wrong side of the local shadowy authorities. It was best to do her business quietly and without drawing any undue attention, and that was exactly how she planned to do it.

Passing through an open air fish market, Rose’s nostrils were assaulted by an array of seaborne smells. The air was heavy and humid; the polluted sky overcast, with a threat of rainstorm clearly looming above. That did little to dissuade the crowds, as uncountable people went about their business as usual, with food stall vendors hawking their wares. Bright neon signs were haphazardly affixed all over the place, denoting various businesses underneath them or just being generic ads.

Rose felt her own stomach rumbling in hunger as delicious smells and sights of exotic food threatened to overwhelm her senses. The hunger was dulled as she caught a heavy-set, tattooed and bald man giving her a passing glare. She was an outsider here, and not an entirely welcome one. 

She continued her trek through the busy streets with her eyes downcast and her cap pulled tight. Much like the pollution was palpable in the air, so was the unspoken sense of mistrust that lurked around every corner. Even with the promises of safety from her acquaintances, one could never go wrong with exercising due caution or restraint - especially in such an unfamiliar setting.

Still, despite the underlying mystery, Hong Kong was the best place to hold their rendezvous, as it occupied a peculiar niche in the world. 

This quasi-legitimate, semi-independent city-state was at the same time a booming center of commerce and research, while not being a party to some of the particularly controversial international treaties, such as the one that recognized B.S.A.A. authority when it came down to hunting rogue B.O.W. researchers… or even B.O.W.s themselves.

One would think that this could have dire results for the region, as hordes of amoral bioweapon peddlers and mutants alike would flock to the city while flooding its black markets with dangerous and unstable goods.

That couldn’t be further from the truth, however. Despite lacking any kind of official B.S.A.A. presence whatsoever, the special administrative region had its own highly effective and particularly ruthless underground conglomerate that enforced extremely strict rules in regards to all matters of bioresearch. Anyone who dared to break said rules would soon find themselves left with nothing, not even their very lives, which were made into an example for the rest to follow. Their close ties to the Triad ensured that the business flowed smoothly and quietly, just like they liked. Everyone was welcome in Hong Kong, as long as they played by the conglomerate’s rules.

As Rose turned to the alley at the end of which was her destination, she knew that she was being followed by a particularly slender young man with aviator sunglasses. They knew she was here, of course, and they knew her true nature.

Even though the Duke - who had helped to organize this whole ‘transfer student’ shtick  - had assured her that as long as she played by the conglomerate’s rules she would come to no harm, Rose still felt an involuntary shudder pass through her body at the notion that someone watched her every move. It was not that different back home, where a B.S.A.A. agent would shadow her steps, but she had hoped to at least avoid the scrutiny here…

Clearly, she would have no such luck. In truth, even though Rosemary Winters naturally resented the constant surveillance over her person, she could understand the reasoning behind it. She was dangerous . If she was to unleash her powers over the mold or lose control over them, the collateral damage to civilian lives and property alike would’ve been massive. She was certain that such a thing would never occur, thanks to Bela’s and Chris’ training session that left her fully in control, but she also realized that the authorities had no such ironclad guarantees.  As things were, while Rose hoped to one day be truly free, for now she was merely grateful that the authorities let her be - mostly due to the immense achievements of her dad and Bela, as well as the influence of their friends.

Finally at her destination - a well-decorated and clearly luxurious restaurant with an extremely ornate Asian Dragon as its logo, Rose took a moment to awkwardly shuffle her feet at the entrance.

She definitely did not feel like she belonged among its privileged clientele in her simple traveling clothes, but clearly the bouncer-like greeter thought otherwise.

“Rosemary Winters? You’re expected.”

Giving the powerful and dangerous-looking man a polite if sheepish nod, the young woman crossed the doorway and was immediately escorted by an immaculately dressed waiter towards a table in the corner of the opulent place.

As Rose approached the table, the lone figure that was waiting there shot to her feet, a gasp of shock leaving her open lips.

“Rosie?! You’ve grown so much…”

Before Rose could even respond, Mia Ashbury leapt to engulf her slightly taller daughter in a bone-crushing hug.

“Hello, Mom…” Rose returned the affection in kind, wrapping her arms around her mother’s slender shoulders. It has been a while since they last met, which took place in Russia, some years ago. Back then, Dad and Bela had been with her, though both of them made themselves scarce, allowing the mother and her daughter to reminisce in peace.

“I can’t believe how tall you’ve gotten! What is Ethan feeding you!?” Mia sounded genuinely amazed as she took a step back to admire her slightly taller daughter. The last time they met, Rose was a full head shorter than Mia; now she had an inch or two over her mother.

Rose chuckled as she took off her baseball cap, allowing her long blonde locks to flow freely down her head. Other than the color, Rose’s and Mia’s hair were remarkably similar in style, length and appearance alike.

“Just this and that…it's mostly Bela who does the cooking, though.”

Mia’s expression lost some of its life the moment Bela’s name left Rose’s lips. Barely able to suppress a scoff of derision, the older woman allowed herself a moment of pettiness, “I see… I hope your other mother knows how to properly support a teenager’s growing body. Knowing her history, I wouldn’t be surprised if that wasn’t the case.”

Rose clicked her tongue at that. Mia and Bela's mutual distaste of each other was perfectly understandable, though she still hated to be in the middle of it. Taking a deep breath, the young woman was determined to dot the i’s and cross the t’s.

“Bela’s cooking is both delicious and healthy, don’t worry…” Rose whetted her lips, preparing to drop the hammer, “I love her, don’t get me wrong…” Mia’s expression fell to the point where Rose could see tears starting to glimmer in her eyes, but she wasn’t yet done, “...but she is not my mother. You are, Mom.” Rose might not have been entirely honest here, as she had grown to see Bela as nothing but her mother, but the empathetic young woman knew that saying that would upset her birth mother. A little white lie would do no harm, especially when Rose was certain that her heart had the capacity to love both Bela and Mia.

Mia let out a wracking sob as she fell upon her daughter once more, desperate to embrace her in a loving hug. Again, Rose eagerly returned the gesture, with her fingers tracing gentle circles on her mom’s shuddering back.

“My… baby girl… I love you… so much.” It was hard to decipher words through Mia’s sniffs and sobs, but the genuine outpouring of emotions was enough for Rose’s own eyes to start glimmering with wetness. The world might not have forgiven Mia for her many sins, but Rose did. She loved her with every fiber of her being.

“And I love you, Mom…”

The duo spent the next minute simply standing while locked together in a loving embrace, just mother and her daughter. Eventually, however, letting out one last sniff, Mia disengaged and worked to groom their ruffled shirts, first Rose’s than her own.

“You can’t even imagine how glad I am to see you here, my precious baby…” mumbled the woman as she took a moment to once again simply stare at her progeny, before finally allowing herself to plop onto her seat.

Rose smiled, not at all bothered by the diminutive term of address Mia had for her, before saying, “I can try. I am glad to see you, as well.” 

The years had been kind to the former Winters matriarch, and her face still held the pleasantly soft angles it was known for - which were tempered by cunning intelligence that clearly shone in her eyes. An immaculate black dress with a long business shirt gave her an appearance of both importance and style.

One notable difference was that she now wore a pair of elegant glasses. Another difference - which Rose could not immediately spot due to Mia’s honeyed locks obscuring it - was a small metal stud right above her right eyebrow - a neural port that was growing popular among those who processed high amounts of information on a daily basis and employed simple cybernetics to aid them in that task.

Mildly surprised that her mom would subject herself to such augmentations, Rose, nevertheless refrained from commenting on it and instead, following her mother’s lead, took her own seat while grabbing a nearby menu. To her chagrin, it was all too easy to lose herself in all the delicious-looking exotic dishes that were suddenly open to her perusal. Sometimes too much choice was a bad thing, though clearly the owners of this restaurant thought otherwise.

“Ahmmm…”

Mia saw Rose’s conundrum and letting out a light chuckle, offered a suggestion, “The Roast Goose is to die for, here. I strongly recommend you give it a try, dear.”

Rose was more of a chicken gal, but, shrugging her shoulders, she gave her consent. It didn’t hurt to try out a new dish once in a while. 

The waiter - who allowed the women their moment of reunion by fading into the background, appeared as if out of thin air to take the order, with Mia herself going for Steamed Shrimp Dumplings. Rose didn’t miss the way he reverently nodded his head, almost as if in bow, before the older woman. Clearly, Mia wasn’t just another guest at this restaurant, but an influential figure herself.

Rose felt an unpleasant tingle in her stomach as she unwittingly made an assumption about just what kind of things her mom had been up to to earn such reverence. She had a clue, “So…how’s work ?”

Mia did not miss the undertone as she averted her eyes, “It’s going well. We had a number of breakthroughs in recent years.”

Rose couldn’t help but clench her fists under the table. She was told what kind of breakthroughs her mother had even before Rose herself was born. Cruel, heartless experiments, that turned innocent children into weapons of war and terror… all in the name of profit and twisted science.

Somehow, even the normally composed Rose snapped, “Oh yeah? A new breed of monsters? Even deadlier than the previous batch?” Rose regretted her rash words even before she finished her sentence. They already had a similar conversation; Mia had sworn off all further bioweapon research and development… but it was not easy to forget her past deeds in that area. Even though Rose loved her mother dearly, she could not overlook her transgressions.

Still, the pain in Mia’s eyes was obvious from the accusation. Instead of flying into a rant of indignity, however, the older woman’s eyes went downcast as she responded in a low voice.

“I swore to you that I would never again take part in such things, Rosemary. I kept my promise - don’t you believe your own mother?”

Rose chewed on her lip as she carefully inspected Mia’s features. The younger woman knew that her mom was quite capable of deceit and emotional manipulation, but she also fancied herself as exceptionally skilled at reading people. There were no hints of deception - Mia appeared truly remorseful and sincere. 

“I believe you… I am sorry, Mom.”

Mia nodded, though her eyes were still downcast as she gazed at the empty table in front of her. “There is nothing to apologize for, sweetheart… trust is earned, and I have done little to earn it…”

In silent agreement with that last sentence but not wishing to further upset her mother, Rose took a step back in their conversation.

“So what is it you do these days anyway?”

Mia actually perked up a bit at that. Clearly, this was a topic she had some pride in, as the tone of response implied. “My team is focused on beneficial aspects of bioresearch. We are actually developing a vaccine for the Red Scourge. We’ve made great strides in securing a working serum… with only a small number of side effects…” Mia cringed a little at that, with Rose allowing herself a chuckle. The older woman shrugged her shoulders and amended the previous thought, “it's a work in progress, alright?” 

The Red Scourge was known to everyone who didn’t live under a rock as the bioengineered disease that ravaged much of inland Australia many years ago, so no clarification was needed. Rose was hardly a kid that slept in her history classes, after all.

Rose was a little bit skeptical at Mia’s explanation, though she had to refrain from commenting for the moment as the waiter brought their orders. The Roasted Goose smelt and looked delicious, so without further ado Rose dug in. 

Despite her rather slender frame, the young woman shared one particular trait with the Dimitrescu siblings - a quickened metabolism that forced her to consume more calories than most people of her size would.

Knowing that feature, Mia could only chuckle as she gazed at her beloved daughter devouring the poor goose with a ravenous appetite. 

“Mmhm! This‘s really good!” mumbled the girl in between chewing, showcasing that some of these lessons in manners from Bela had gone to waste, after all.

Mia ate with more reservation, though an occasional muffled moan implied that the older woman greatly enjoyed her meal as well.

“So you just help people now?” Rose poked a piece of meat with her fork, while asking a pointed question. She had heard rumors about the organization that took Mia in, and few of them painted them in any particularly benevolent light, though they were a major step up from the outright villainy The Connections were known for.

Mia finished her bite with several contemplative chews, before swallowing and connecting her gaze with that of her daughter.

“Obviously not from pure altruism. The vaccine will be patented and distributed to our trusted retailers, who will then proceed to make binding contracts with the affected locals. That will ensure that our expansion into the Australian inland will be supported by the grateful population; a profitable venture, all in all.”

Rose munched on another piece of roasted goose before helping herself to some veggies and then slurping her glass of soda down. The explanation made sense to her - after all, Mia’s organization was not a charity fund, but a business venture. In the end, people would find relief from the organization’s efforts, and that’s what truly mattered, Rose supposed. Would that relief outweigh the negative aspects of the aforementioned expansion? Only time would tell.

“I see…”

Rose’s non-committal answer was followed by several moments of silence as the women chewed on their food, but eventually Mia decided to lighten up the mood by changing the topic. “Enough about me, though. Tell me about yourself, honey! How have you been since the last time we spoke?”

Rose could only giggle as a number of peculiar topics immediately arose in her mind. With a family as large and weird as their own, it was not a surprise that her days were filled with unusual and hilarious events, whether from retelling of Daniela’s mischief or Cassandra’s hunts or Bela’s own unexpected misadventures…

The next ninety minutes were spent with pleasant and carefree banter as Rose retold stories of her crazy aunts as well as her own, relatively more mundane ones. 

Naturally, Rose also burned with desire to tell her mother about her precious little half-sister, whom she loved dearly, but the young woman had to bite her tongue. Considering Mia’s current employer, Dad was understandably not particularly eager to divulge information about Eveline to her - and Rose shared his concerns, if begrudgingly. Maybe one day, when Rose once again trusted her mother implicitly, she would share the joy that was Eveline, but for now she would stick to less compromising topics.

During this time of casual banter, the loaded air between them vanished completely, replaced by one of ease and affection, as befitting a mother and her daughter. Before long, Mia - a little tipsy from a glass of wine - was laughing and telling amusing stories from her own latest years, which surprised Rose. Apparently, nowadays Mia’s closest colleagues were quite an easygoing lot. 

“I’ll introduce you to Sebastian tomorrow. He knows this city like the back of his hand and there are plenty of wonderful places he can show you while I am working.”

Rose was incredulous at that statement.

“Sebastian? Sebastian that roped you into the Connections in the first place? That Sebastian? Really?”

“People change.” Mia deadpanned. From personal experience, Rose had to concede that point. “Though we live together now, he had actually left all his former overlordly aspirations behind and is now working a legal job under his second degree, with a forged identity, naturally.” 

“Second degree? Which is?” Rose couldn’t contain her curiosity. What could a former ruthless and amoral corporate executive be up to?

As if ashamed, Mia averted her eyes while pressing the tips of her fingers to her forehead. 

“Game design. He is actually part of a team behind ‘Wicked Denizen’ , if that means anything to you.”

Rose had to collect her jaw from the floor from the sheer shock of that revelation. That zombie/survival/horror game was all the rage in the last year and her Aunt Cassandra couldn’t get enough of it; even Bela and Dad occasionally played it.

“No. Fucking. Way.” Rose knew that she would no longer be able to surprise her mom with the story of how her Aunt Daniela managed to buy a dilapidated shack on the outskirts of town for a thousands bucks, only to turn it into a thriving confectionery that attracted hundreds of loyal patrons with a sweet tooth… Eveline and Rose included.

Just thinking about her lovable if ditzy Aunt Daniela and her caring husband Thomas made Rose’s insides warm with affection. Both of them were such nice and kindhearted people that Rose still remembered their marriage, which took place six years ago, with nothing but fond memories. That had been a momentous occasion, which almost matched the marriage of her own parents in its splendor and the amount of joyous faces present. Rose had been so very happy for them, especially for her dear aunt, who was finally free from her past demons, free to enjoy the simple pleasures that were denied to her for so very long. The confectionery Daniela and Tom now owned showcased the pair’s bright attitude and warm disposition. Rose dearly wished them everlasting love and happiness - they both deserved it.

Ignorant of Rose’s moment of inner musing about Dani and Tom - which was betrayed by a soft smile tugging at the corner of the young woman’s lips, Mia frowned at the language employed by her daughter, but refrained from commenting, though her playfully judging gaze was enough.

Seeing her mom’s disapproval, Rose smiled sheepishly, before apologizing, “Sorry, it's just… a shock, really.” She was actually looking forward to meeting Sebastian in person now.

Mia smiled, a genuine, maternal smile that brightened Rose’s day even further. She was now certain that she did not make a mistake by enrolling for this transfer student program - this was going to be a very, very interesting year; which she is finally going to spend with her mother and her strange friends.

As they ordered dessert, Mia’s expression turned solemn; remorse plain in her soft eyes.

“How are…” the older woman spoke with obvious strain, seemingly struggling to suppress her emotions, ”…how are Haru and Sarah doing?”

Rose knew well that both Haru and Sarah were victims of the cruel experiments carried out by Mia herself, in a wicked bid to replicate or even to improve upon the original E-001 Bio-Organic Weapon - Eveline. They were orphans, and therefore, easy victims for the Connections callous collectors to snatch.

The young woman gulped, unsure about whether it was a good idea to tell Mia about her former experimental subjects, even though she felt like the former scientist had more than a sliver of affection for ones she had wronged. Figuring out that it would probably not gonna cause much harm, considering that Mia already knew the basics anyway, Rose decided to share just a little about her dear cousins.

“They are doing well. They still live with Grandma Alcina, but Duke is grooming them to take Millie’s and Tom’s place in his organization.” Rose’s lips shifted into a thin line as she finished. She didn’t tell Mia that Haru and Sarah still possessed their formidable mold-control powers or that they grew up to be akin to inseparable twins, always together and often finishing each other’s sentences.

Relief was obvious in Mia’s features as she heard that the kids she had once wronged were doing well in Alcina’s maternal care. Still, she couldn’t help but scoff in half-hearted derision at hearing the Duke’s name.

“Why am I not surprised to hear that name? It seems like the so-called merchant has his fingers in every single pie, huh?”

Rose laughed at that, in agreement with her mother. Even though so many years have passed, the Duke remained an enigmatic, if helpful figure. Few could claim to know his true intent, but one thing was certain - despite his own aged frame, the Duke’s influence only grew in the last decade, and few things of note - if any - skipped his attention.

Vocally musing about the Duke’s peculiarities further bonded the daughter and her mother, and the rest of their evening passed in amicable conversations. 

After they had finally parted their ways for tonight - mostly due to Mia having an emergency meeting with her colleagues, Rose returned back to her rented flat, a wide smile of satisfaction gracing her youthful face. Her two mothers were such incredibly precious people to her, Rose would never dare choose just one of them, but it has been so long since she last saw Mia, she couldn’t help but shudder with joy at finally being able to spend some quality time with her birth mother.

A year of weird adventures and peculiar friendships awaited.

 

***

April 10th, 2044

Dulvey Parish, Louisiana

 

Eveline soaked in the delightful sensation of wind rushing against her frame as she sped on a deserted highway.

Once upon a time, the beast of metal underneath her might have roared its challenge for all to hear, but in this day and age an internal combustion engine was a rarity reserved for antique collectors and museums.

Therefore, Eveline’s motorcycle - which was a reasonably new model, made from black and silver-painted alloys shaped into an elegant aerodynamic frame - flashed through the abandoned road while letting out a pleasant hum which was almost completely muted by the onrush of incoming air.

In an old-fashioned black jacket, that nevertheless matched her personal vehicle exceptionally well, as well as in a protective helmet - her parents did not fail to impress the importance of safety upon her - Eveline allowed herself to enjoy the ride, even though the reason for it was far from joyous.

A month from turning nineteen, Eveline Winters had grown into a fine young woman; tall and slender, though her aloof and mysterious air kept the number of suitors from becoming too high.

Riding her motorcycle with practiced ease, Eveline briefly recalled her carefree and joyful childhood, which was eventually replaced by her more reserved teenage years.

There had never been a shortage of love or pampering from her parents and her many relatives, therefore, it was not by choice Eveline had grown into a quiet and composed individual. Instead, these particular qualities were a natural development that the young woman had no choice but to adopt as she experienced certain changes in her life as she grew.

It all started when she was thirteen - a youthful little brat who thought that nothing was more amusing than drawing a mustache on her older sister’s face as she slept.

At first it was subtle - a sudden flash of fragmented, dissociative memory that was not her own, yet which was eerily familiar. Eveline would dwell on it for an hour or two, before assuming it to be a kind of amalgamated recollection of some scary movie she saw or a game she played. The child would eventually forget it and move on with her life, none the worse for wear and thinking that this isolated freak incident would not repeat.

How wrong she had been…

As weeks passed, these flashes of strange memories did not fade, but intensified in both numbers as well as vividness. They would often be triggered by certain objects or even spoken words, such as the time she sneaked a peek at daddy’s old firearm or heard mommy speak about baking cookies.

For a while, young Eveline tried to bottle it all up, intent on not burdening her loving family with what she thought was nothing more than her overactive imagination. It did not last long, however, as none of them failed to note Eveline’s diminishing spark of life and soon her elder sister Rose demanded to know what was going on.

Naturally, as there were no secrets between the two siblings, Eveline had confided in Rose, who - with a grim look on her pretty face - immediately proceeded to talk to Dad and Mom in private. Eveline remembered that talk to be long and arduous, with even tempers flaring and voices being raised - a rare occurrence in the Winters’ household.

At first, her parents had decided to keep the visions at bay with special medicine, but it did nothing. Her school grades plummeted down and the child had little energy for anything more complex than eating or sleeping.

Then came the sessions with professional therapists, which could only scratch their heads at Eveline’s plight, utterly out of their depth in the matter of unknown malady that plagued the girl. The flashes of dissociative memory kept recurring, ever growing in volume and intensity, eventually reaching the point where Eveline struggled to go through her basic daily routine, with Mom having to spoon feed her to keep her from starving.

After some desperate consideration, the stoic therapists were replaced by intense people with B.S.A.A. badges. Dad was always there as well, standing with a grief-stricken expression as his baby girl was subject to the past he wanted to protect her from. The calm and composed specialists spoke about events long forgotten; events that happened long before Eveline’s birth - something that she had no right to know or remember. 

Yet she did.

The events they spoke about became a frame for the disorganized mess of random flashes of memory; they brought a certain order to the chaos that was Eveline’s mind of late. A measure of peace was finally returned to her shredded mind, but it was not enough. Something was still missing, something that would tie it all together.

Seeing progress made and after consulting with a large number of experienced acquaintances, Dad had brought her with him on a trip to a distant, forlorn place - just the two of them. She had been fourteen back then. He didn’t speak much during the trip, only occasionally assuring the young girl that no matter what happened, they would all love and support her. That she was their daughter, that Ethan was her father and Bela was her mother; that her sister Rose loved her just as much as they did. Dad’s discomfort and fright still flashed through the determined facade he had tried to build for her sake.

Back then, Eveline had been scared as well, though the notion that the resolution to this nightmare of visions was near brought a steely determination into her soul. 

Once they had finally arrived at their deserted destination, as she stood upon the ruins that used to be the Baker’s residence, it was like the incomplete jigsaw puzzle that was her existence suddenly had all its missing pieces filled.

In a seemingly singular moment that drew her to her knees and her palms pressed to her forehead, Eveline had remembered everything.

She had screamed then; a shriek so sudden and so intense that she was certain that poor Dad had earned more than a single gray hair from hearing it. The way he had held her then; the way he rained kisses on her cheeks and forehead; the soothing words that left his lips were the only things that had allowed her to hold onto her sanity in that moment of terrible, world-shattering revelation.

They had left that place, though Eveline would never be quite the same after that. Still… as horrible as that moment of remembrance was, it had finally opened the road to recovery for her.

The therapy sessions continued, with Dad often taking the place of the therapist himself… and them just talking. His kindness and compassion was truly boundless, and through it Eveline had found the strength to move on. Moreover, she had realized then that the twelve years of carefree and joyful childhood were not in vain - they became her anchor of sanity as she worked to compartmentalize her fragmented memories; the horror of her past life was tempered by the love of her new one, and as they melded together, so did the past and present Eveline finally joined together as Eveline Winters - nobody would take that name from her. Nobody could take away her beloved mother Bela, her caring father Ethan, her ditzy but dutiful older sister Rosemary. The precious memories they had forged in the years of her carefree childhood would remain with Eveline for the rest of her life, and they would guide her as surely as a beacon guides a ship in a stormy sea.

By the time she turned sixteen, Eveline had managed to regain some of her previous spark of life, though she had also developed a hard exterior shell, making the strangers think of her as aloof and cold. The childish carelessness and propensity for mischief were replaced by stoicism; though in the company of those she knew well, those she cared about, Eveline was still known to allow an occasional laugh or joke, if somewhat tempered by her newfound restraint.

Years kept passing and the young adult that was Eveline today had developed into a dutiful and loyal person; remaining very caring of her family, many relatives and a rather limited circle of good friends, but wary of strangers and unenthusiastic about making new contacts.

Today, as she drove alone on the deserted highway, she reflected upon her past and mused about her future. Despite everything, it was so unbearably hard to let the past go, but Eveline knew that she had to do just that, if she ever wanted to step forth into the future as a functioning adult. This trip was her chance to do that, to finally get the closure that she sought - or at least some of it. Eveline couldn’t help but grit her teeth in frustration as she recalled how she had wasted her previous chance to do that.

Two weeks ago, Joe Baker, aged 85, had finally passed away, lying peacefully on his bed, surrounded by his caring niece and her three children that saw him as nothing else but a beloved grandpa. Even though the old man had sparked with vitality and nearly inhuman strength, his old war wounds finally caught up to him.

The funeral was held soon after and Joe Baker was buried alongside the empty graves of his brother’s family, with Eveline’s dad and even mom and sister in attendance. But not Eveline herself, as she simply could not make herself face Zoe, especially not on such a grieving occasion.

Instead, Eveline had remained home, with her heart being torn by conflicting emotions that desperately urged her to undo the harm she had caused - an impossible notion, as her mind knew very well.

To move forward, she needed closure, but she could not gather enough courage to get it from the one person that could grant it - one person, from whom she had taken everything .

Therefore, today, instead of seeking it from the living, Eveline was determined to once again return to the site of the great injustice she had committed and to beg it from the ghosts of the dead.

Near her destination and after getting as far as the road would take her vehicle, Eveline dismounted the motorbike and, after collecting a certain item that was securely attached to its backseat and making sure that her prized mount was locked, the young woman continued her trek on foot.

She was a little bit daunted by the muddy swamplands that stretched as far as an eye could see, with no signs of nearby civilization, though she still pressed on. As her long black leather boots that ended right under her knees sloshed against the mud-soaked ground, Eveline absentmindedly fingered a vicious pocket knife with her free hand.

The surrounding area did not appear particularly welcoming or safe, and Eveline was understandably nervous being here all by herself, especially considering that she had never engaged in real violence yet; not in this body, anyway. Being far out from civilization meant risking encountering unsavory types, which sometimes roamed the countryside.

Unlike her dear sister Rose, Eveline was not born with the unique gift of mold manipulation - that particular aspect of her past existence had died for good, for better or worse, leaving her a mostly normal human. The medical examination she frequently undertook at B.S.A.A. local HQ told her that there was mold in her, but much like it was the case with her beloved daddy during his adventurous days, it was mostly limited to accelerating her natural body’s regeneration, making her occasional bruise or scrape heal within hours, instead of days. She also assumed that she could probably reattach a limb if she came to somehow lose it in an accident or an attack, but that was not a theory she particularly cared to test.

Just because she no longer possessed her formidable mold powers, however, did not mean that the Eveline of today was defenseless. The ability to protect oneself and their loved ones was a fostered quality in the Winters’ household and Eveline had learned the basics of self-defense from a young age. 

Of course, Dad’s and Mom’s self-defense course did not even come close in its depth or intensity to what her Aunt Cassandra and Uncle Chris had put her through, once she had reached eighteen. Under Chris, she had become a proficient markswoman who could reliably score hits even on moving targets with a small firearm, while Cassandra taught her a great deal about many aspects of close and personal combat. The many grueling hours of brutal spars and biting remarks made Eveline capable of flooring even heavier and larger opponents with ease. What she lacked in strength was more than made up by her agility and wily skills. After months of harsh training, Eveline became a force to be reckoned with in unarmed combat, as well as with edged and projectile weaponry; though the latter two would only be employed as a last resort - Eveline’s parents were very thorough in imparting the notion that killing other sentient beings could only be considered in the most dire of circumstances.

Eveline allowed herself a small smile as her thoughts drifted towards her Uncle Chris and Aunt Cassandra. Despite some hard angles of their characters, Eveline had come to love them immensely and was always eager to spend some time in their company, which thankfully was quite often. The peculiar duo never married or had kids, but none could doubt the intensity of their love towards each other.

Chris, despite hitting seventy, still looked like a formidable man who had yet to leave his prime, to the utter shock of everyone around. Not even his hair was completely grayed out. The one theory that tried to explain the peculiarity was that the extravagant cocktail of viruses the man was exposed to over the years had a remarkably fortifying effect on the fearsome veteran - instead of breaking him like it would most people, it served to extend his lifespan while hardening his body.

Likewise, Cassandra was as striking as she was twenty years ago, with her slightly aged features only adding to her vicious, dominating charm; as did her newfound love for crisp business dresses. With her long dark hair in a ponytail and strutting in high heels, few would be able to resist cowering in fright from the baleful glare of her intense amber orbs. The nickname ‘Iron Lady’, popular among her underlings, was very appropriate for her, Eveline thought. Nobody wanted to get on her bad side.

The duo, still together as they were before her (re)birth, had moved on to establish their own private security company about five years ago, which now grew to a respectable size and earned an impressive reputation; though there were rumors that the company was a mere front for its owners’ more nefarious activity. Eveline didn’t care about the rumors, however - she trusted Chris and Cassandra fully, and whatever they did, they did for a good reason.

Her musings about her peculiar uncle and aunt had to be put on hold as the toe of her boot got stuck in a hole that was concealed by mud, making the young woman stumble, though her exceptional sense of balance allowed her to avoid slamming face first into the mud herself.

“Fuck!”

The ground was treacherous and Eveline proceeded forward while diverting all of her attention towards her path. This was a forsaken land, with nobody resettling after the horrific event that happened so long ago. The B.S.A.A. operatives were the last to set a camp here, but even they had departed more than a decade ago, after making sure that every single trace of the mold was incinerated. 

Nature slowly but surely reclaimed every single inch of the grounds where a happy family once lived.

Treading carefully, it took some time for Eveline to finally arrive at the place that was so familiar to her, even if it was so drastically changed by years of neglect.

Slowly, reverently, the young woman moved through the opening where the iron grated gates once stood - the metal barrier itself long ago broken from the hinges by the uncaring flow of time and was now resting beneath a layer of suckling mud.

The ruins of the Baker’s estate was in an even sorrier state than they had been five years ago. The ceiling and most of the walls were gone altogether and the pillars were rotten enough that it would probably take a mild storm to collapse the few that were still standing. A couple more years, and this place might no longer even be recognizable as the one that once hosted grounds for a family dwelling. Weak wind howled through the cracks, giving this place an eerie feeling.

Still, the impact the ruins had on Eveline was undeniable, even in their diminished state. She could not suppress a shudder.

Vivid as if she was seeing the house as it was decades ago, Eveline moved forward with tentative steps; though an occasional gust of wind made her shudder from both the chilly current as well as a less explainable feeling of dread.

Stopping over unremarkable planks of rotting and overgrown wood, Eveline knelt down, unbothered by the dirt and mud that would cling to her bared knees.

A single delicate finger traced over a certain spot where a ghost of dried blood could still be perceived. 

This is where Jack chopped off Daddy’s leg with a spade… because I made him do it. I wanted to teach him a lesson…

Fresh tears soon joined the long-dried blood.

Standing up slowly, the young woman sniffed, but continued her silent and methodical trek throughout the Baker’s Family grounds, trying to recall every single instance of violence committed under her watchful gaze. More than a hundred people found their end here, and to her chagrin, Eveline realized that she couldn’t even remember most of them…they were just a blur to her now, lost forever in an uncaring river of time.

As she reached the rusted wreck that once had been Zoe’s trailer, Eveline felt tears flowing freely down her cheeks. Instead of wiping them, the young woman once again had gone down to her knees, while her left hand finally let go of a bouquet of white roses it was holding all this time.

“I am sorry…” Eveline whispered, even as she realized the emptiness of her gesture. As if a bunch of flowers could hope to make up for all the countless atrocities she had committed. As if it could bring back the good and kind people she had corrupted. Jack, Marguerite and Zoe did nothing to deserve becoming unwilling puppets to her selfish desires. Her countless victims never asked to be made into mere toys for a petulant child with too much power and not enough restraint.

“I AM SO SORRY!!!” the young woman suddenly yelled, as loud as her lungs would allow her to; her head craned up to stare into the overcast sky. There was no response.

“PLEASE FORGIVE ME!” There could be no forgiveness for her crimes, Eveline knew that with her mind, even as her heart screamed out. Again, there was no response, and that silence was more crushing than if the ghost of Jack Baker suddenly appeared and judged her unworthy to once again taint the premises of his home.

The woman allowed her head to fall down, as she simply froze in her kneeling position, dejected. 

Minutes passed, with Eveline not making a single motion beyond an occasional shudder, intermixed with sobs and sniffs. 

The wind picked up the pace, now buffeting the kneeling frame of the youngest Winters; it was likely only a matter of time before the rain would start, and then the storm. A particularly strong gust of wind crashed against Eveline’s back, almost causing the slender woman to fall prone. At the last moment, Eveline caught herself, though she could not avoid having her digiphone dislodged from her short pants’ back pocket.

The smooth, miniaturized device tumbled onto the muddy ground, with Eveline soft green eyes following it along. The impact must have activated its features, since a small hologram of its content swiftly made itself available, reminding Eveline just why she had set it to mute . Dozens of missed calls, as well as a number of unopened messages.

Fifteen messages awaited her attention from Mom alone; with five more from Rose, around ten in total from her university friends - along with an official warning for lacking attendance from one of the professor’s whose lectures she had missed. As if she gave a shit about the possibility of expulsion at this point…

A single message from Dad must have joined the rest in the last hour, which felt particularly impactful to Eveline, as he rarely would bother his teenage daughter, instead choosing to fully trust her to communicate whenever she wished. Even he was worried, now.

Eveline wasn’t surprised, after all, she had warned nobody once she had spontaneously decided to embark on this foolish journey of hers. Making sure to disable all trackers, she had just hopped on her trusty bike and sped away from her university’s grounds; traveling all this distance from her home state of Florida towards these forsaken swamps in Louisiana. It took her more than a day just to get here, as the night was spent resting in some abandoned building on the way. No wonder her caring parents were worried sick.

Eveline felt a spark of guilt piercing its way through her heart. Not only could she do nothing for the dead, but she was also worrying the hell out of her loving parents… and for what? 

Struggling to suppress the shaking of her fingers, the young woman unlocked her digiphone, almost desperate in her desire to see the message from Dad.

Honey, where are you? Your mother and I are so worried about you. Please, just give us a call and tell us that you’re alright. We love you.

It was a simple and straightforward message, yet it still caused a fresh onset of emotions to swell within Eveline, making the woman cry out. Her beloved parents, who gifted her with nineteen years of love, care and affection, were worried about her sick, and here she was ignoring them on her foolhardy quest. It was not fair for them to suffer because of her selfish whims.

Still, she needed to be here, and slowly standing up, Eveline felt a new feeling of determination slowly raising up from within. 

She could not undo the harm she had caused - it was impossible, but that didn’t mean there was nothing she could do to continue repenting for her past.

As the notion that had been fermenting in her head for a while started to sprout, Eveline, now with firm hands, swiftly responded to her beloved dad’s message.

I am alright and I am sorry. There was a place I had to visit by myself. You know which one. I didn’t want you to try and stop me. I’ll be on my way home now… There is something I have to tell you and Mom. I love you both.

Still filled with remorse, yet now also burning with determination, Eveline gave one last look at the bouquet of white roses that she would leave behind, as well as the crumbling ruins of the Baker’s residence around her.

I am sorry.

The unspoken apology might not have much bearing, but Eveline hoped that her intent would make up for it. Wiping her red puffy eyes with a rose-motif handkerchief sewn for her by grandmother Alcina, the young woman started to make her way towards her motorcycle with firm steps.

She now knew what she had to do. A life of cushioned civilian comfort was not for her.

The world might be in a better spot now than twenty years ago when her parents were fighting for their lives, but it was still a far cry from a peaceful utopia they had hoped for. The intervening years and tightening control over pharmaceutical business, coupled with harsh regulations on active biomatter saw global bioterrorism reduced to its record low in the year of 2044, but that hardly meant that the world was at peace.

No… the strife was in human very nature, it seemed. Their world was a fragmented and a war-torn place, with plenty of isolated regions being powder kegs that were ready to explode into a flurry of violence from a single spark. Everyone was doing their best to arm themselves up for existing or planned conflicts. Perhaps the only true difference between twenty years ago and today was that the tools of war and terror had changed.

With how expensive, limited, and inherently unstable weaponized viruses were, it was not surprising that the majority of armed groups - including official armies, rebel groups, terrorist cells, private military corporations and militarized corporate armies - had moved on towards greener pastures which were offered by rapidly emerging field of advanced cybernetic augmentation. If twenty years ago only the very wealthy or extremely well-connected individuals could afford to have a cybernetic limb attached, today even a regular working-class person could have a replacement one provided as a form of insurance from accidents or even simply to enhance his or her productivity. Some augmented themselves so much they became more machine than human.

With how common-place the cybernetic augmentations have become in the last decade, it was no surprise that it also played a key part in the continued violence that was taking place around the globe. A single augmented commando could take down an entire squad of unmodified human soldiers, and civilian-grade augmentations were readily available in every major city - some of them could be employed for crime or terror just as well as their militarized counterparts, provided the black market technicians would remove their safety limiters… naturally, they had no issues doing that for a fitting price. The Era of Bioterror might be drawing to its conclusion, but the new Era of Cyberviolence was just getting started.

Nevertheless, it would be amiss to claim that bioweapons were completely gone - some remnant B.O.W.s or particularly stubborn groups clung to their existing arsenals, keeping B.S.A.A. in business, if just barely.

Naturally, with how much horror and bloodshed humanity had seen in the past decades, many peacemaking organizations had foreseen this development and did their best to prepare for it. It seemed that no matter how many horrors befell them, some people still kept dreaming about the world at peace - and some even worked towards that noble goal.

Presumably, such were the people behind the new Advent Initiative - a freshly assembled group with backing from major peacemaking groups around the world.

Many consider it a spiritual successor to The Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance, which naturally saw its influence and resources wane in the wake of reduced bioterrorism activity. Some of the latter's members even went as far as to join the fledgling organization, eager to help it find its footing with their vast experience in combating international threats. Moreover, to further illustrate the similarities between the two organizations, Advent was founded on principles of global presence; a universal jurisdiction with independence from local governments and corporations, sanctioned by the United Nations - which was once again a trusted beacon of stability and hope after the massive restructuring it underwent twenty years ago.

Moreover, Advent’s official mission was not to pursue geopolitical or economical interests, but to aid ordinary people and to stop those who would fan the flames of violence for their own petty gain, be it vicious terrorists or crisp-dressed politicians or CEOs. Likewise, their activities would be open to international oversight after their conclusion, ensuring both the smoothness of operations as well as lack of corruption.

For that mission to be effective, the organization was working at establishing a diplomatic wing that would do its best to negotiate peace between warring parties, though Advent was not idealistic enough to believe that kind words alone could solve every problem. A dedicated division of professional warriors was also in the making. They would be well-equipped and well-trained, while operating on the basis of commonly-accepted human morality and abiding by the ethical principles of warfare - something that Eveline herself couldn’t help but idolize after all the stories Dad and Uncle Chris had told her.

The Advent Academy was accepting recruits even in Eveline’s hometown, though few would get through their diligent screening. Only the very best could hope to graduate after two years of grueling training and demanding studies.

More out of curiosity than anything else, Eveline had attended one of the public tests the Academy held - a Cybernetic Rejection Test, which was an important qualifier for anyone who sought to partake in the battlefields of today.

To Eveline’s mild surprise and the examiner’s utter shock, Eveline had scored the highest on that test, showing that her natural body was 99.8% compatible with all known cybernetic augmentations - a score that only about one in a million could brag about.

Back then Eveline considered it a peculiar, but ultimately irrelevant coincidence, as she had no particular interest in cybernetics, but now she was certain that it was a sign. Eveline’s heart and mind alike craved atonement, and she knew that she would never be able to get it sitting on her ass in some office. True, she had already achieved much by turning Replica soldiers against the Connections back in her past life, but it was just not enough for her. She wanted to do more. Her desperation for repentance demanded her to do more.

Maybe she could find her atonement while actually making a difference out there, as part of something greater, just like she did in her past life. While she could never hope to return Zoe’s deceased family back to life, she could do her part in ensuring that Zoe’s three beautiful little children would grow in a world without fear. She could help her own loving parents have a peaceful life and eventually a carefree retirement after everything they had done for her. She could provide a safe environment for Chris’ sister Claire and her own two annoying little brats which she had with that Leon guy. She could help so many people… she knew that she could make a difference.

That hot determination that now burned in Eveline’s heart purged her mind from the depressing thoughts of her past atrocities. While she would forever carry the memory of her sins, she was now resolute to actually do something about that, instead of merely brooding over it.

As Eveline hopped on her bike and left the Baker’s old residence behind, she was determined to do her part in ensuring that their tragedy would never happen again. More than her part, perhaps. One last gaze was spared as a farewell to the homestead she had destroyed herself. I will do better this time, I swear it.

Just like the ruins rapidly shrunk behind her, so did the future beckon her erratic mind. In it, Eveline already saw herself as Cadet Winters . Failure was not an option.

Despite even her unusual compatibility with cybernetics, Eveline knew that it would not be easy to enroll into the academy for future warriors. But she would do everything it would take not only to get in, but to become the best cadet among them. True, their good family friend Jill Valentine and her partner Carlos Oliveira held positions of authority within the fledgling organization, but Eveline knew that it would not aid her - there could be no place for favoritism in Advent and it was likely that either of those people would be even harsher on her than they would be on a random cadet.

Though, of course, her first challenge would lie in convincing her parents themselves, especially her protective mother, to allow her to enroll in the first place. It would not be easy as both Dad and Mom made no secret that they were determined to keep their daughters out of harm’s way at all costs, but Eveline was resolute now and she was certain that she would be able to get through them without having to go behind their backs. They were a family, and nothing would please Eveline more than having her parents bless her choice. Eveline Winters was certain that after a long, productive talk, her loving parents would support her decision.

“I am coming home, Dad, Mom, Rose.”

 

The Parents’ Story is Done… but the Daughters’ is Just Beginning

Notes:

And this is it - Bound by the Sins of the Past is officially done! Almost 400k words, I really never thought I could write that much, but there we go :) Now... who is looking forward towards Eveline's and Rose's Cyberpunk adventures?! Just joking... (or am I?) Anyway, for now I will return to my Hello Neighbor story, which focuses on a peculiar and very unhealthy romance between Ethan and Daniela, as I promised to a small number of readers who appeared to have enjoyed it so far.

I want to take this opportunity to give a HUGE thanks to all the readers who used their time to give this story a try, but I am especially grateful to those of you who took a moment to leave a piece of feedback or a kudos - I REALLY appreciate that; your support made this story possible! Finally, I want to give a special thanks to readers who accompanied me on this journey from seemingly the very start: Clevinger, SilentWinters, PotCFan101 and GrimmIntentions - your contribution to this work and my motivation to continue it cannot be overstated.

I won't bother you with a huge endnote, but feel free to use this last chapter's comment section as you see fit! I'll gladly receive any kind of feedback, consider suggestions, or answer any question you might have!

Again, an enormous THANK YOU for sticking with this story to its very end and I wish you all the best, my dear readers. Hope we might meet again! :)

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