hellsingrevamped

HellsingReVamped

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Daniela X Maiden ----Hunted Ch. 2

Daniela x Maiden ----Hunted Ch. 2

Ch. 1

Blurry.

As you blink your eyes open, everything is blurry. You see oranges and golds and reds all blend into one, unsure where the ground ends and the ceiling begins, where you are, what happened to you.

Warmth envelops you and softness lies beneath you, unlike any kind that you could ever hope to have in your home.

And it is that thought that has you springing up, wide awake; this is not your house.

Where am I?

You literally propel yourself from the couch you were previously on as memories return and flood your mind. The redhead, the bite, the tall lady who knocked you out in the snow.

Crap.

Your hand shoots up to touch the sore spot on your neck yet meets bandages instead of skin. Quickly, you scan the lavish room you're in for a mirror. Your steps get steadier as you approach the one mounted on the wall opposite you...

Huh. Whoever dressed your wound did a fine job. Under normal circumstances, you would search for them and thank them, but for now you have more pressing matters to worry about.

Where the hell am I? How long have I been out?

It's clear at this point the girl that attacked you isn't normal, if she's at all human. You are dealing with mutants and these situations can get messy—

And how messier can your life even get? It has to be a prank the universe is playing on you, by now.

Determined to prevail against shitty odds once more, you keep your steps feather-light on your way to the doorknob. Soundless, you step out into an empty, red-carpeted corridor.

Listening in, you catch the faint, muffled sound of voices coming from far in the right. You follow it, guard always up, until it becomes clearer and clearer...

“This pitiful thing tried to eat a maid. Mother, do we kill it?” A foreign voice asks.

“Or rip out its arms and throw it back in the dungeon—! “ Another excitedly suggests.

A weak gurgle comes.

You freeze in your steps just behind the corner.

“Since the three of you are grounded, you do not get a say nor any enjoyment in this matter.” The Lady's voice is unmistakable, followed by the sound of a blade being drawn from its sheath.

The gurgling continues...

You shouldn't peek out, you know this. You knowit, but just the faintest possibility there's someone there, trapped with these women, someone who needs your help, has you so foolishly leaning out of cover...

And.

What the actual f—

Blades span long and wide from the impossibly tall woman's nails, while three smaller ladies –oh no, God, no, that's the psychotic redhead— are holding down a creature straight from a nightmare. Its twisted, bony limbs are trapped by their boots, leading up to tight, gothic outfits, then to identical tattoos on their foreheads...

“Fuck this shit!” Bursts out of you before you break into a death sprint down the seemingly endless stairs to save your life.

“Oh, I love it when they run!” one of the crazies behind you exclaims. You can feel, rather than see, her leap onto the railing and then towards you like a goddamn panther—

“Cassandra, no!” the Lady starts—

“Back off, she's mine!” Daniela yells and knocks the brunette off-course in mid-air.

You don't even think to glance at whenever is happening behind you. Accompanied by the sound of buzzing flies and glass decorations shattering miserably, you jump off the final five stairs, dive into a roll then zoom into the next room.

You have half a mind to smack the door closed and lock it from the inside, in your heart-faltering panic.

Think. Think!

You dash to the only window of the room, where another chilling realization occurs to you; its outer side is reinforced by metal bars. This place is literally a luxurious prison.

Even if you were to somehow dislodge them, you can't even see the ground from how high up you are. There's an abyss of frost and snow waiting for you down there if you jump...

That's near-guaranteed death.

But, glancing at the flies coming in through the keyhole and the little opening underneath the door, you decide the same applies to staying here.

Your hands shake as you pull the window wide open. The cold air from outside crashes into you and it stings, but you narrow your eyes through it and check for weak spots in the bars.

They're ancient; parts have rusted out, one side seems hit –you don't want to know what could have possibly hit it with force enough to bend the metal all the way up here— and that's your best bet right now.

You grab onto the top of the large window and pull yourself up so you can repeatedly kick against the weaker side of the bars.

The buzzing of flies intensifies, death draws ever nearer and your leg feels like it's on fire from the frost and periodic pressure you're applying—

Crack!

Something finally gives –your bones, almost— and you see the prison bars plummet into the gaping blur below.

You waste no time. A deep breath is drawn in, then you leap outside—

Yes!

But just as your folded body crosses the threshold, an arm shoots out and grabs you by the back of your shirt.

No! No!

The fabric tears, but you are already pulled inside like you weigh absolutely nothing, grabbed by the neck and smashedback-first into the table behind you.

“Going somewhere?” the blonde asks, sounding half bored and half aggravated, as if you're more trouble than you're worth. “At least stay for dinner.”

Sarcastic, smartass mutant asshole. You'd give her a piece of your mind if your breath hadn't been shattered in your lungs from how hard she threw you down.

The door snaps open. You don't have to turn your head to see the brunette and redhead still shoving and clawing at each other.

“Bela, get away from her, I swear—” Daniela yells.

She has time to do little else, for both she and her rival are then lifted off their feet by the giant arms of the intimidating Lady... and thrown to adjacent sides of the room.

“I already told you to stop!” her voice cuts through the room like a blade.

To your surprise, all three of them tense and stand up straight.

“Bela, good job. Tactfully handled.” the older woman praises. The blonde smiles proudly, while the others grimace. “As for you two... you're on thin ice.”

“Sorry, mother.” they reply in unison.

Oh, great. You're about to be dinner for this fucked up family. Can't say I'm surprised. The tidbits of luck were about to run out at one point or another.

“Close the damn window, Bela.” the brunette hisses.

Bela gives you a look and immediately flashes away. A final click seals you in.

“What are we doing with her?” she cocks her chin towards you.

“She saved Daniela. Let's not resort to anything drastic.” their mother says.

Daniela zooms over to you and takes your hand to drag you off the table. Every part of you protests; your leg, your back, your arm from how hard she tugs on you. You wince at the sharp pain that shoots up your limb, but she doesn't notice. Of course not.

“Does this mean I can keep her?” she asks, excited like a kid presented with the prospect of a new toy.

“Mother just said not to resort to anything drastic.” the brunette emphasizes, no small amount of sarcasm to her voice.

“You shut—”

“Manners!” the Lady chastises. “…she will join the staff, Daniela. You may spend time with her, but be warned; do not break her.”

“On first week, at least.” Cassandra chuckles.

“Cassandra.”

An eye-roll. “Sorry, mother.”

“I won't, I promise!” Daniela shakes you back and forth and you're just about ready to collapse from the pain and the sinking feeling that this nightmare has only just began for you.

It's too much. Your head spins, your surroundings blur. You fall, but you never hit the ground.

“Already failed.” you hear Cassandra's mean snicker, distorted in your ears, before you blank out once more.

There's human staff. Of course there is. And it's a lot of girls around your age.

This isn't good, you think while they dress you up, mindful of your bruises and injuries. This isn't good at all. I have to get out of here.

You wouldn't mind so much if it was just the messed up family of mutants you were trapped in here with. But other humans? Innocent girls? Well, that...

That complicates things.

The first few days are filled with a barrage of information. What the daughters like, what they dislike, what you should and should never do in front of the Lady. You file everything in your head, isolating the parts that could prove useful for an escape.

Bela, the blonde asshole, is apparently the easiest to deal with. She's very straightforward about what she wants and what she expects and will rarely hurt the staff, is what the others say. So long as you don't say anything disrespectful about her family and Rhiannon, her girlfriend, you’re good with her.

Cassandra is not quite so laid back. She gets antsy often, far hungrier –or far less trained in hiding it— than Bela. It's a bad idea to even cross her path then. She's a sadist and used to torture people for fun, they say, but she has calmed down a ton since getting together with Alexia. Another foreign name to you.

Daniela is the real problem. The girl is unpredictable on her finest days and a total psycho on her worst. You never know which it's gonna be until you're met with one of her 'games'... and you can infer those all too often don't end well. She can be smiling one moment and enraged the next, her ups and downs impossible to predict.

‘Steer clear of her’, is the advice you get. There's no keeping her docile and her interest sooner or later ends in one way; blood.

Ha.

You really drew the short stick on that one. What a surprise.

...Not.

It's also unsurprising when the tell-tale cacophony of flies alerts you to having caught one of the daughters' attention. It's not hard to guess who it is and your suspicions are confirmed when, from the thick mass of the swarm, you hear;

“Hello, scrumptious~” followed by soft, airy giggles. That voice doesn't sound as cute to you now as it did the first time you heard it.

You try to go against your 'fight or flight but mostly flight' instincts and you root your muscles in place in front of her.

“Hello.” you say back, quiet and uncertain. You'd add 'my Lady' there, but you can barely get one word out right now.

Her heels click against the carpet when she fully retracts the flies into her body –you do try not to think too hard on this part, how she can even do that. Daniela's honey eyes, one slightly bluer than the other, scan you from head to toe.

Chill. Everything is fine. Just keep your cool. Despite the mental prep talk, your neck already stings in response to the fresh memory of her agonizing bite. Your buttoned-up shirt feels too tight.

“You fainted on me last time. We didn't get any time to ourselves.” she says –is that a pout?— stepping around you in a loose circle that only serves to make you more anxious.

“Y-yeah.” you nod. Swallow. “It was... a lot to take in.”

“Hm.” Daniela makes a non-committal sound and comes to a stop right in front of you. “Your heart is beating too fast.” she observes, almost innocently.

No shit. Well, mortal danger is something your body tends to react to.

“Are you afraid of me?” again, she looks nothing like her true nature as she cocks her head a tad to the side, pretty face framed by her long, rod-straight red hair.

What's the correct answer here, really? You have a fifty percent chance of getting it right. No pressure. Your survival just kind of depends on it.

“...no...” you reply.

Daniela's hand shoots out like a bullet and the next second your back –still very much injured— connects hard against the wall behind you.

Fuck!

“So you think I'm not as scary as my sisters?!” she demands, literally in your face.

Double fuck.

“Um. That's... that's not it!” you hurry to say.

Daniela dials the anger down a notch. She blinks at you, slow and curious like a cat. Then, her long fingers, free of their gloves, come up to take hold of your chin, shockingly gentle. Her skin is cold, yet softer than you may have thought.

She studies you closely for something. Whatever it is, you hope she finds it and lets you live. Or, if she doesn't, you pray she makes it fast. Though, judging by her reputation, that’s just wishful thinking, isn’t it.

“It's not?” she asks.

“Ah. No.” you answer, focusing on the nicer parts of this situation to make your words seem more genuine; redhead, pretty, smells like vanilla extracts and expensive floral perfume. “Not at all.”

Daniela's fingers release your face. She takes half a step back. “I get it.” she nods. “I get it.”

Do...you...?

A sly, self-satisfied expression slowly makes its way across her beautiful face. Her lipstick-slick lips curve into a knowing smile, as if she's privy to information you're not.

And then she speaks the five words that become the bane of your existence;

“You're in love with me.”

Wh-

What.