Playing Dangerous - Mother Miranda/reader

Playing dangerous - Mother Miranda/reader

Warning for explicit content.

Chapter 3: Metamorphosis

Every tap of your foot on the wooden floor makes it creak, distracting you from the conversation. Your eyes follow the deep indentations in the boards and you begin to wonder what they are made of. You bend down until your palm touches the floor and your fingers, or rather nails,  exactly match with the markings.

Your boyfriend's voice continues to ring through the receiver and you return to the conversation, leaving the inspection of the strange floor for later. 

"...No- I'm telling you they're very weird"- your gaze shifts to the door, you know it's closed and locked but you check anyway, not wanting the family to hear you talking behind their backs. 

“Why don't you just steal their money and then run away then?” you roll your eyes, Philip and his stupid ideas. You wonder how he isn't in jail yet. 

"And get that crazy woman after me?" - although your voice is full of mockery - the smile on your face is missing - "no way" 

"The mother?" - you hear movement on the other side and assuming that he is probably walking from one room to another, you wait a while until you're sure he's at one place. 

"Yeah, I don't think she likes me very much" - as the words leave your mouth, somewhere in the hallway, a door opens. You can make a bet on exactly which one it is and you are sure you'll win it. 

“She's a fool then,” - he laughs, and as footsteps begin to echo from behind your closed door, you cut him off before he can continue his rant about Miranda. 

“But I want her to like me” – your voice sounds more confident than it should be but you don't bother, the footsteps are almost next to your room - “I mean – I think it's necessary for my boss to like me. If it's the opposite I'm sure she can find a way to make my life a living hell". 

There is no way you want this assumption of yours to turn out to be true. 

"Then use your sweet charm on her , darling" - there's a knock on the door - "I'm sure she'll be convinced" 

At first you don't pay much attention to Philip's joke due to Miranda's soft voice calling you for breakfast, when her footsteps continue past your room - you burst out laughing. 

"What works on you won't have the same effect on her , I'm sure" - you stand up and walk to your wardrobe, as you open the doors of it you start to check your clothes one by one in order to choose an outfit for today. 

"What about the children?" - your boyfriend asks while you place a pair of jeans on the bed , soon a plain shirt falls on top of them. - "are they fond of you?" 

"Can't say yet" - you throw your phone on the bed and you stay quiet for a few seconds while you rush to change into your chosen clothes - "it's only been two days after all" 

"And you're already weirded out and... what did you say - scared?" - you roll your eyes again. He can joke and mock you as much as he wants but he wasn't there to hear those things from last night. 

"...Yeah sure , i have to go now" - you warn him while fixing your hair , there's a small crack on the mirror that annoys you. 

"Alright, darling. I have to leave for work in a few minutes as well" 

"Will you.... promise to call me more often?" 

You know his promises are cheap lies already but a part of you still wishes he can grow up to keep them. Yet your chest tightness when he doesn't answer , staying quiet instead. 

"Philip?" 

"I will try" 

With that he hangs up and you sigh. You love it when you talk so freely with him but those moments are rare , too rare. You don't understand why he's like this or rather why he turned out to be like this.

 After that other girl he changed a lot and you know it would be better to just break up with him , to not contact him anymore, as part of you knows he's loosing interest with every passing day. 

However by doing that , those years spent with him will seem meaningless, lost and worthless.

*****

The mansion is still as dark as before, but as you walk down the stairs the walls start to seem closer to you, somehow making you feel small, pushing you into a corner. 

You convince yourself it's your mind playing tricks on you. After all you definitely didn't get enough sleep last night. 

While you walk with your head down, so as not to look at the paintings that seemed so beautiful to you before - and now you have the feeling that every pair of their eyes is staring right at you, you notice more scratches on the floor. They look the same as the ones in your room.

 You don't feel the trust your unfocused mind puts in your feet until you recognize the kitchen floor. And as you lock your eyes with Miranda's - the gaze of the paintings evaporate from your head. 

She may be mean and rude, but she's gorgeous, you'll give her that. Just like before - she sits cross-legged in a comfortable chair by the table, her hair slicked back, revealing her ears and the many shiny pendants on them. In her hands she holds the same cup from yesterday and you quickly guess that it's coffee again. The smell confirms it.

"You look...pale" - she unsurely comments , then the cup she was holding till now disappears and she lifts her hand to your forehead, hesitation shines in her eyes but her soft palm still presses on your skin - "Are you feeling unwell?" 

This proximity is new and unfamiliar. Maybe she's trying to apologize for last night. But judging by her worried impression, you probably look very unwell. 

"i just couldn't sleep" - her touch goes colder and colder until it completely disappears. 

"I'm sorry to hear that" - you settle into the chair next to her as she takes the last few sips of her coffee, there is a plate in front of you and two more on the table but not in front of Miranda, you wonder if she is eats at all - "i hope Eveline didn't scare you much" 

"She didn't" - you scoff, it's not the crying child that was worrying you last night. 

You hear a crack somewhere behind you. 

"Good morning" - you jump in your seat as a quiet voice echoes behind you. You turn with widened eyes to face the black haired girl , a grin shines proudly on her face. When did she manage to sneak up behind you? 

Even Miranda puts a hand to cover her smile from you , she's polite enough to hide ber mockery but her eyes are still looking at you two. You clear your throat and turn to Eveline as she takes the seat next to yours - you know how to turn this conversation around and shift the attention off you. 

"Did you manage to calm yourself last night, sweetie?" - she gives you a sharp glare. 

"Clearly - yes" - rude , truly like her mother. 

"Ready to explain what was bothering you then?" -the description of what scared her is inaccurate, part of you is curious, another part wants to make her not use such a cold and harsh tone while talking to you. 

Eveline looks rather convinced, her little hand grips on the metal fork and she hesitates for a moment, then just as she is about to speak Miranda interrupts her. 

"Evie where's your sister?" - her eyes shift somewhere behind you, as if she's expecting her other daughter to came down any moment now, when she doesn't her eyebrows furrow a bit. 

"Still upstairs" - the black haired girl resumes the eating of her breakfast. 

"Doing what?"- her gaze hardens. 

Eveline lifts her shoulders in uncertainty and her mother claims an even more pissed off look. But instead of continuing her conversation with the girl, she turns to you. 

"Can you please go and call her for breakfast?" 

She doesn't have to ask twice - it's your job after all. You quickly stand up and listen to Miranda's instructions on which room exactly is Eva's before heading directly there.

***** 

The girl's door is white, in contrast to the others, dark ,wooden doors in the mansion. There are some butterfly stickers stuck near the handle. They look old but despite that you find them cute. You lift your hand and curl up your fingers.

"Are you up Eva?"- you knock a few times on the surface of the door - "your mother is calling you for breakfast" 

Your voice is loud enough for her to hear you even if she was sleeping. Yet there's no response from the other side. The girl stays silent. Is she even in there? 

Grabbing the door handle, you decide to go in without a specific invitation from the owner of the room. The moment you step inside a soft, yet anxious voice rings in your ears. 

"Close the door, close the door!" - she commands -"they'll fly away!" 

You quickly follow the blonde girl's orders , then you turn to look at her and as you do your mouth opens in surprise. 

"Are those... butterflies?" - you ask with a curious smile. 

Eva is standing near her large desk, in one part of which there is a big, glass aquarium - there is no water in it, but rather greenery, you correct yourself by guessing that it is more likely a terrarium. 

What surprises you, however, are the many butterflies standing in it. And all the others that fly around the room - they are everywhere, perched on the furniture, on the ceiling, on the floor... you even notice a few in the girl's hair.

 The butterflies are colorful and beautiful, they make the room feel like a shiny rainbow. Eva giggles as you observe her pets so gracefully. 

"You like them?" - she happily asks , lifting a hand - not soon after one butterfly with blue wings lands on her finger and she moves it closer for your eyes to observe. 

"They all look lovely, dear" - you try to carefully take the insects on your own finger but it gets scared and you watch closely as it flies away. Eva has definitely predicted this as all the windows in her room are closed - "you must really adore them" 

Their number is enormous, you can spend a lot of time trying to count them. Eva suddenly throws her arms up causing the butterflies on the ceiling to move and as if guided by an unspoken command they return to their glass home. 

"Once when I was walking in the forest a small butterfly landed on my hand" - she stops to show you where exactly - "then I didn't know that their wings were fragile and I grabbed her casually, I was dying to show mommy - I didn't realize that I had managed to kill the poor creature before I could get to her" 

Sadness covers Eva's face as she remembers the memory. 

"And what did Miranda say?" - you ask , trying to get her to finish her story. 

"She said i reminded her of a butterfly,... at the time i wasn't sure why" - the girl then smiles - "the same day she gave me a greenish caterpillar - told me to take care of it and watch it closely" 

So Eva discovered the cycle life of a butterfly that day? Interesting. 

"What happened to it?" - the blonde girl tilts her head towards the terrarium, with a closer look you distinguish several caterpillars and cocoons hanging next to them. 

"It was interesting to watch the little creature transform into a graceful butterfly" - she comments , both hers and yours eyes still glued to the terrarium -"i was sure it was dying but then...it was like the caterpillar was brought back to life - more beautiful and powerful than before." 

You don't notice when her tone starts to sound melancholic, as if she is drowning in a distant, nostalgic memory. She stays quiet for a moment. 

"Mommy explained to me this process was called metamorphosis. I was so interested in it - the next day i found another caterpillar and observed it for a long time , taking notes for every stage of it's transformation." 

"And from then you started collecting butterflies, didn't you?" 

"As you can see"- she grins widely, with a few guided movements of her hands - almost all the butterflies return to the glass box - "i learnt to be more careful with them and they learnt to trust me" 

"That's adorable" - you return her soft smile , Miranda was right - Eva was really a sweetheart - "but i have to ask...why so many?" 

"Butterflies tend to live for a short period of time" - she starts to explain - "everytime one of them dies , another one is born - death for life.... it's like a rebirth , a reincarnation of souls..." 

You are pleasantly surprised by the choice of words , she sounds so confident in them - as if this happens every day, not to the butterflies, however, but to her. 

In just a few minutes Eva manages to collect all her colorful pets and return them to the terrarium, then she runs to the door, she stops only to call you. 

"Come on!" - she rushes you - "I'm starving, what did mommy make for breakfast?" 

You quickly follow behind her , closing her door and continuing down the corridor. Maybe the family is not so bad after all. 

***** 

The girls love to play outside, they enjoy the fresh air, the freshly cut green grass, the thick leaves of the trees and the birds that come out from among them to fly and tear the clouds with their black wings. 

It is peaceful, pleasant and quiet. Cozy. Your body relaxes under the warm rays of the sun which caress your skin. It is warm but tolerable, the weather is, to put it simply, perfect. 

You sit calmly on one of the several chairs under the tent near the house. Next to you there is a table with all kinds of snacks, but no one pays attention to them - you are not surprised when you look at Eva and find her chasing butterflies through the air. 

Eveline is standing in the seat next to you, elbows on the table, overhanging a few sheets of paper on which she is carefully drawing with colored pencils. And you just stare at your phone, waiting for some news from the hospital, from your father, something about his condition, something about his illness, just....something. 

At one point you get fed up and throw your phone on the table with an exasperated sigh. You find yourself looking at the drawings of the girl with black hair next to you, but she hides them with her hands. You get even more annoyed and decide to see what her sister is up to instead. 

However when you start looking for her with your eyes - your heart starts to beat a little bit faster. Eva is nowhere to be found. You don't realize when you have even jumped out of your seat, or how you've managed pushed the chair on the ground in the process. Your eyes dart around but they can't seem to don't pick up on anything. She's gone but...wasn't she giggling somewhere near you just now? 

You quickly try to calm down, telling yourself that she probably went inside. Yes, that's right, she must need something from the house. Your feet begin to move towards the front door as if on their own as you continue to convince yourself how she's in there somewhere and you're totally not a bad babysitter for not paying much attention to the kids you're supposed to carry for. Gods , Miranda will kill you if something happens to Eva. 

Right before you cross the threshold of the door, something in your thinking changes. An idea lights up, but it summons goosebumps on your skim. What if she is in the forest? The trees are dense, with exposed sharp branches, she can easily be injured. Not to mention all the wildlife roaming through the shadows of the trees. 

Your heart starts to beat irregularly as you turn to observe the forest behind you. A shocked gasp leaves your throat when your eyes meet it. 

It ,because you cannot in any way define the figure in front of you as a person. Too tall, limbs unnaturally long, twisted and crooked. Skin pure black - like the night, with the only difference - the night can be beautiful. This creature is the deity of the darkest hours - a walking nightmare. 

It doesn't even have a face and yet it's smiling. It's mouth is torn, dark skin begins to disintegrate - thick pieces of it mixed with blood fall on the ground, staining the green grass. That horrifies you. 

Both of you start to run at the same time, but in totally different directions - the creature to you, and you to Eveline. However, you don't expect to bump into her after only a few steps. Her eyes widen at your worried look and she grabs your hands tightly before you can say anything to her.

"Do you see them too?" - her question makes you shiver. 

"W-what , wait -" - your gaze shifts to the forest again , there is nothing there , yet you point in that direction - "that wasn't real" 

Your voice sounds uncertain, Eveline doesn't pay much attention to your half statement half question. 

"Mother knows about them too , but she chooses to ignore them" - she speaks rapidly, as if she doesn't have time to explain properly - "she thinks they are harmless, but i know better" 

Her now very loud and rushed tone echoes through your head , making you hiss in pain from a sudden headache. 

"Eveline you..." 

"They are only harmless to me" 

Miranda shows up at the door seconds after one of her daughters totally manages to confuse you. A part of you calms down when you see Eva in her embrace, but you still feel your body shivering with every small movement. 

"Is everything alright here?" - the blonde woman asks in concern at the sight of your condition. 

"Yes , mother" - Eveline answers for you, Miranda seems convinced. Not like you expect her to care at all.

"Lunch will be earlier today" - she declares while slowly walking back into the house, you almost storm after her , if only you weren't so frozen in your place - "Eva told me she was hungry" 

The little girl in her arms nod in silent agreement.

.

.

.

Miranda's incredibly delicious cooking makes you forget about the incident outside. Her two daughters talk impatiently with her, each trying to outdo the other. And yet she manages to listen and respond to both at the same time. She looks like a very good mother, despite all the things Eveline says about her. 

Soon the table empties - the girls find themselves busy with their painful duty of studying, they both look as if it is the last thing that they want to do. But none of them argue with their mother's commands. 

They leave you alone with Miranda. Her presence is intimidating, consuming... you don't even want to comment about her staring. Thick tension builds up between you two. You clear your throat to caught her attention, and your mouth finally opens to speak. 

"Is there... a quiet place where i can study too , by any chance?" - you feel timid while asking her this , as if it's a crime. She loves the look on your face and she returns it with a cunning smile. 

"The library" 

"Thank you very much" - you rush to get off your seat, planning to go directly there. The further from this woman - the better. 

"I was curious..." - why is she still talking??- "you study yet you don't attend university?" 

"I study from home" - you begin to explain - "my teacher don't care as long as i can pass my exams - but with the condition of my father...and now this job i just can't go the actual lectures." 

"Well it's incredible how you manage to pass the exams - do tell me" 

You cross your arms in front of your chest and smile proudly, it is true that you are doing well, even quite well, even though your only information is books and textbooks. 

"I study hard , and i don't give up easily" 

She chuckles , uncrossing her legs in order to stand up , reminding you how tall she actually is. 

"Go study then. I'll make sure to visit you later"

*****

You are amazed at the size of the library. The room is huge, with large windows that let in enough daylight for reading. In the middle of the room, you notice a long table, surrounded by chairs and red sofas. The bookshelves on the walls are perfectly arranged on next to eachother.  

And the books on them are not just taken from somewhere, you quickly notice that they are specifically chosen according to Miranda's tastes. Naturally you find children's books in several places, but what amazes you the most are the several volumes on detailed theology. Was Miranda a religious woman? 

You place all your things on the table, choosing to sit on one of the soft sofas. You notice a paper movie screen right in front of you. Home theater sounds great. But now you have another job - you open your laptop and lose yourself in studying. 

You don't know exactly how many times the clock on the wall has rung, announcing the new hour, when you hear the library door open. The clatter of heels on the floor distracts you and you turn to the center of the sound. Your eyebrows raise in pleasant surprise. 

"Well you look nice" - she definitely looked more than nice - "going somewhere special?" 

Surprisingly she returns your teasing smirk , before sitting down next to you with a sigh. 

"Oh i wish" - she scoffs - "Work. It's always work." 

She looks rather fancy for just work. 

Miranda wears a long red dress that highlights her figure too well. Her golden hair is neatly styled in a messy bun, revealing more of her ears, which you for the first time see decorated with only one pair of long earrings - in them you can notice small red stones that match her dress. The skin of her hands is devoid of expensive fabrics, but instead, long metal bracelets curl from her wrists to her elbows, which reflect the light of the lamps every time she makes some gesture with her hands. She's like a walking jewellery - especially after you note the pretty , darkish necklace wrapped around her neck , contracting her light skin tone. 

Too busy staring at her you don't see how her face becomes more and more annoyed with every passing second. 

"Can i see your textbooks?" - oh right, you were studying. You allow her to grab them from in front of you and she relaxes into the sofa as her eyes carefully scan the text written on the white pages. 

Then she makes a grimace. 

"Half of the things you're learning are bullshit" - her fingers join to follow the sentences in your textbook - "doesn't makes sense at all. You've been learning from this till now?" 

"Where am i supposed to learn from?" - you defend yourself, tapping a few times on the table with your fingers - "it's what our teachers want us to know and what they-" 

"Oh , trust me , dear - I'm sure i can teach you more than your professors will ever be able to." - her voice sparkles in confidence and she throws the textbook on the table in disgust, only to take another and make an even more annoyed grimace. 

"Yeah because I'm sure you have a degree on that" - she must be a good mood, because she actually laughs. It's more of a mockery but you still count it. 

"I don't need a degree for my job" - she crosses her legs , making the fabric of her dress to wrinkle - "and i still work in a laboratory all day" 

"Is it...cool?" 

Miranda decides not to answer, instead she makes a statement. 

"You too want to work in one" - she leans back and puts her hands on the back of the couch. You haven't noticed until now how shapely her long arms look. 

"I mean i think I'm supposed to" - your gaze shifts to your laptop and the tons of stuff you need to learn for your upcoming exam - "i told you about my father and his sickness. I want to cure him more than anything" 

Part of you fears the possibility of you achieving this goal way too late for him. 

"I never asked - what exactly is he suffering from?" 

"The doctors claim is a rare form of cancer" - you explain, playing with your fingers as you place your hands in your lap - "but the true is...even they don't know. All they do is give him expensive medicine and hope for the best" 

Miranda stays silent, she gives your laptop a look , then she finds the final textbook she threw on the table again and clears her throat. 

"As i said - i can teach you better than your professors" 

"There's no need to-" 

"I'll play nice and keep up to your messy studying plan but I'll make sure to give you important information and advices - make sure to write everything down." 

"Thank you, but-" 

She lifts her arm to stop you from talking. Then she gives you a glare - her eyes shine like golden stars. 

"I suggest you start writing, i don't have much time before i have to leave" 

After her words you just nod. Miranda starts reading and therefore dictating from your textbook while you take notes. From time to time she stops at some sentences to comment on how inaccurate they are - then she corrects them, completes them or totally tells you to forget them. 

Despite everything, you enjoy the moment between you. Her voice is smooth and sonorous and her explanations are really good - she talks about complex informations like a children's story and actually makes you understand and remember it. 

You feel like you can listen to her for hours. 

The library door opens again, then quickly closes. You turn around, distracted by the quiet footsteps entering the room , before Miranda could. 

"Mommy?" - Eva's soft voice echoes from behind her mother's back. Miranda immediately stops her talking and turns to her daughter with a smile on her lips. 

"Yes, love?" - the girl rushes to the sofa , peaks quickly at your stuff on the table before turning to her mother with a sorrowful expression. 

"My head hurts again" 

Miranda's smile drops faster than you can even blink and she presses her palm to Eva's forehead. Then she asks if it's very severe - the girl nods her head and the blonde woman wastes no time in pulling her daughter into her embrace. 

"You only have a headache?" 

"For now, yes" - such an answer doesn't please a worried mother. 

She quickly excuses herself and wishes you good night before rushing out of the room , leaving you yet alone with your studies. Looking down at your notes - you notice how much Miranda actually managed to help you and the corners of your lips curl up. 

***** 

You wake up with a breathless gasp only to feel your body like a heavy rock. Soon you discover you can't move at all. You panic.No matter how hard you try, you can't even move a finger. Your head is throbbing furiously as you try to snap out of the trance.

It's not the fact that you can't move that scares you - it's the silhouette at the end of your bed. The figure also stands still, observing you with golden eyes. Your breath hitches as you make the mistake to look deeply into those alluring yellow lights. 

You can't contain the scream urging from your throat as the silhouette looms over you , somehow making you to finally be able move your legs. You start kicking and soon tossing around the bed like crazy to get rid of the dark shadow above you. 

As you open your eyes again - you see nothing, it's gone. Was it even there? 

You quickly look at your phone only for the time to tell you it's the middle of the night. The moment you went to bed and fell asleep after studying, you started having another nightmare. And then you woke up just so your brain could keep playing tricks on you. You feel scared - you're not the person to often have nightmares but now... it's like they follow you even in the bright daylight. 

You need fresh air, you feel like you're suffocating. you quickly slip out of your bed and head to the window. But you never manage to open it. 

The view below takes your full attention. Thanks to an external lamp with white light you can tell two people apart. Miranda is coming back from her so called work quite late, but what surprises you is that she brings a man with her. 

He looks clumsy , way too happy and loud - it's obvious how drunk he is. He's talking something to Miranda but her expression is plain, she looks very out of place. If you look closely you can almost  caught a note of disgust in her eyes. She patiently waits for the man to stop talking before she can give him a response. 

You truly wish you could hear what they are talking about, however by opening the window you'll risk being exposed for spying. 

Miranda says something that changes the happy expression of the man into a horrifying painting. He's not a bad looking guy but there's something off about him - you can feel it. Soon he laughs again and this time the blonde woman follows his gestures. 

She plays her role good , perfect if you could say. You can feel her fake laugh without even having the chance to actually hear the sonority of it. 

As they finally open the front door, the man decides to walk in first, giving Miranda time to...lift her head to your window. 

Her lips are curled up in a cunning, daring smile. 

You back away immediately, feeling your heart skipping a beat. You decide you've had enough and go straight back to bed. Your door is locked so you don't worry about Miranda or that hideous man storming into your room. Yet you still force yourself to stay awake for a little longer, only to try and caught the sound their footsteps if they go upstairs. 

You don't hear another sound in the silent mansion for the rest of the night. 

In The Eyes Of God - Part IV

The teeth of the fox.

Part I | Part II | Part III

Mother Miranda x Reader/OC

(Warning for explicit gore)

“On the bed.”

“Make me.”

You most certainly have a death wish. That is the only explanation for this.

Or it’s just fun to watch a God deal with a brat.

Mother Miranda raises a single eyebrow at your defiance and prowls closer. “What was that?” She asks, lowly.

You double down. “Make me.” 

Your frontal lobe is a unicycle with a clown on the pedals.

A strong grip yanks your head back, your neck craning under the pressure. You half cry out, half moan at the aggression and you can feel a wetness grow between your legs. Miranda’s breath is hot on your ear as she speaks from behind you with unexpected composure. “Is this what you wanted, hmm? Your hair wrapped around my fist?”

She gives a sharp tug, and it contrasts so deliciously with how calm her voice is that it has your brain buzzing as more heat gathers in your core. 

“You should take care being such a brat, my little dove…” She takes advantage of your height difference and craned back head to lean down and place a whisper of a kiss against your lips, speaking against them as she continues. “...you may not like the consequences.”

You shudder in her grasp. Your neck aches from its unnaturally held position, but her hold on you is too enticing for you to care. Besides, you’d already proven yourself to be a bit of a masochist, hadn’t you?

“Guess we’ll have to find out.” You dare. It’s bold coming from your submissive position, but it seems you are unable to keep the brat at bay -though your strained, breathy voice kind of contradicts your rebellious words.

With your hair still tightly wound in her fist, Miranda swiftly walks you forward until your knees knock into the desk before spinning you both around. She uses her grip to tug your face forward into a bruising kiss, teeth sinking into your bottom lip, harsh, before pulling away and leaning back against the wooden edge, releasing your hair. There’s a dangerous glint in her eye, and it excites you. “Kneel.”

Her sharp tone leaves no room for argument, not that you’d want to argue. On your knees for her feels like the place you were born to be. Without tilting your chin up, you maintain eye contact as you sink to the floor so that you’re looking up at her through your eyelashes. You want so badly to touch her, to run your hands along her thighs, to feel her shiver under your nails as they scrape her flawless skin, before you hike that thin, green dress up to her hips.

But you get the feeling you’ve reached your brat-o-meter quota for the day. So you keep still and wait for instruction.

A satisfied smirk crosses her lips at your obedience and her hands slide down the soft, expensive fabric of her dress to lift slowly up, up, up…

“You missed breakfast again!”

You shoot straight up with a yelp to find the bright, golden eyes of Daniela staring at you. With an evil cackle, she collapses on your lap and rolls to the side of the bed, clutching her hands to her chest in glee. 

Why did you like her again?

You bring a hand up to your head to massage your temple to find slick, sweaty skin.

Ew.

God, your entire body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

With a huff you turn to your murderous friend, still giggling away to herself on your comforter. “That was cruel.”

She fake pouts at you before waving her hand in dismissal. “Oh please, you should be thanking me for offering to wake you. Cassandra wanted to.”

You grimace but have to accept that Cassandra finding you in this state would have been much worse. The brunette could be fun, but she was also a menace who didn’t know when to quit. You’d had a similar style dream a few months back and when Cassandra found out, you’d been mercilessly mocked -oh come on, we’re just having fun!- for weeks.

“Did you dream of me~?” Came the lilt from your side and you fought the urge to roll your eyes at her.

“No.”

Daniela pouts and bats her eyes at you. “Aw, lovey, I thought we had something special?”

Part of you melts at the nickname. A larger part of you cringes. “Better not let anyone hear you say that.”

Now it’s the redhead’s turn to roll her eyes as she perches on your bed, watching you stroll around the quarters, deciding whether to shower off your filth or just accept your state and dress for the day.

“Whatever. She left you here.” 

There’s some bite to your friend’s voice that hints at something deeper, but you decide not to open that can of worms right this second. Daniela had definitely taken the clear claiming from Mother Miranda’s the hardest, and you found that she rebelled against it petulantly. 

Though… you can’t deny the same thought had plagued you over the last week. A whole week, but it felt like a month. Your belongings had been gathered after your evening with the high priestess, making it seem as though you’d be leaving the castle with her, but at the last minute she left without you, not even so much as a ‘goodbye’. For all you tried, it was impossible to not feel cold and abandoned in her wake.

Colette had been the one designated to inform you of the loss of your belongings, the box having been ruined when Anabelle’s body crumpled on top of it.

The poor girl had shaken like a leaf, avoiding eye contact with you as she whimpered out her information.

“Apologies about your belongings, Miss Miranda.”

Miss Miranda? Getting fucked gave you an honorific?

“Oh, that’s alright.” You had assured her with a huff. Again, your belongings weren’t really yours. “It was mostly just… necklaces made out of teeth, so…”

After deciding on a shower, you ignore Daniela’s further jabs relating to Mother Miranda and make your way down to the kitchens, leaving her to her dramatic lamenting on your bed. You hadn’t been permitted to work since your evening with the priestess, and the girls, as much as you adore them, were suffocating you with their incessant need to take up all of your free time.

So, when you could, you helped with chores to keep yourself occupied. The maids were too afraid of you to shoo you away, which left you with the ability to work in peace for a few hours before one of the Dimitrescu daughters found you and snatched you away, scolding you for disobeying the rules. Besides, there was a lot of work to be done. The other maids, while avoidant, surely appreciated the extra help.

“It’s here again…” 

You freeze as the swinging kitchen doors slam closed behind you with a ‘whoosh’. Those words, hissed with venom, clearly not meant for you to hear, arrest your movement. Or maybe they were intended for your ears. Either way, you’re now on edge and you grit your teeth to keep from biting something you’ll regret back into the room. Teeth clenched, you stride to the counter, aiming to assist with whatever breakfast dish was currently being prepared. 

A shoulder firmly, purposefully bumps yours so hard that you have to take a step back to balance and a snicker sounds from the corner by the sinks. 

Ignore. Ignore. Ignore.

They are just silly, bored girls who need someone to hate. Fine. You can take that. It’s fine.

You clench your jaw harder and lean closer to where you’re now working with the dough at the counter. Knead. Spread. Knead. Spread. Breathe in. Breathe out.

See? Just some good, measured meditation is all you need. Your old therapist had been right, the way people treat you says more about them than-

Something large shoves into you from behind, slamming your hips painfully into the counter and your hands are pushed across the granite, rolling your dough right onto the tile floor with a ‘splat’.

Oh-kay.

Really?

Mid-knead!?

With a huff you swipe the now ruined dough off the floor before storming over to the bin to angrily toss it. 

“Oops, sorry!” Comes such a sincere voice. The act is really and truly sold by the muffled giggle that follows. It’s so convincing, in fact, that she deserves an Oscar, you think… shoved right up her-

“-slut.”

It’s murmured under breath, but there’s no doubt this time it is absolutely meant for you to hear. 

Your eyes catch sight of the knife holder to your left.

(She needs a few new holes to give her mouth a break)

Your fingers flinch at the intrusive thought, and you realize they are already half out-stretched for the nearest blade. Horrified, you snatch the offending hand back, clutching it to your chest. 

Jesus. The girl was a bitch, but you didn’t need to murder her for it.

Frantically, you begin backing out of the kitchen, pushing the doors open with your back as you keep your hand clutched to your chest tightly, afraid that if you let it go it might act of its own accord. Possessed.

You make a brisk walk back to your quarters before you can cause any true harm. Maybe you can hide in the bathroom to avoid the Dimitrescu sisters while you calm the fuck down. 

Images of a sharp, shiny blade in your hand keep flashing in your mind. Sinking into firm flesh. Blood. Heat. Teeth. Laughter. Is it yours?

(The fox still tears into the lamb, no matter how loudly it bleats)

There it is. That kind of thought again. That voice. You let out a shrill, closed-mouth scream of annoyance at its intrusion into your brain, rounding the corner into the staff quarters. 

“Little one.”

You startle so hard at the voice you nearly wipe out on the cement below, limbs flailing like a cartoon character. Your hand flies to your chest as you see Cassandra sprawled lazily across the end of your bed. Her hands are glistening with fresh blood and you wonder which poor soul entered the quarters midday to happen upon the most bloodthirsty sister. She grins lavishly at you and wiggles her fingers in a little wave. Her teeth are red with fresh blood as well and for a moment your picture her tearing into that mouthy little maid from the kitchen-

My God. Get ahold of yourself!

The brunette’s smile widens at your pained expression, delighting in your distress, and she stalks towards you like a mischievous house cat. “Oooh, pray tell what has you so upset, little one?” 

She trails a single finger around your shoulder as she circles you before snatching it away and leaning into your space. Her breath hits you like a truck and you make an effort to shove her away. “Oh my god, what did you eat?” 

“Myrtle.”

Ah. That’d be the poor soul, then.

You frown, but Cassandra’s grin stays as she continues, pulling out her sickle to run her hands over the red, sticky liquid there as well. “Grab a coat.”

The mundaneness of the request makes you tilt your head like a bird, brows furrowed in confusion. “...why?”

“We’re headed to the village!”

Headed to the village? You hadn’t been to the village since the van broke down…

“All of us?” You’re hit with the idea of a large Castle Dimitrescu field trip and you inwardly giggle picturing all of the maids hopping into a large, yellow school bus with the Lady Dimitrescu dressed as Miss Frizzle.

Heh. She’d look so ridiculous.

“No, stupid, just the four of us.” She responds in an exasperated tone before pushing you ahead of her with her sickle. You notice she’s careful not to touch you any longer.

Upon reaching the front foyer, you find the other two Dimitrescu sisters pre-bundled up in layer upon layer of expensive furs, hats, gloves, scarves. It was clear that their mother had been a part of dressing them to leave the castle walls. It was still summer, but the mountain air could be brisk, and the lady took no chances when it came to her three children.

Neither girl looked particularly thrilled to be a) so thoroughly padded that they looked like fat little bears, or b) heading out on this village trip at all. 

You glance back at Cassandra who is sporting a less bulky look, though still thoroughly covered, and she is handing you the same brown leather jacket you’d first arrived with.

“My jacket!” You squeal in delight, snatching it from her before holding it to your chest like a long-lost lover and inhaling deeply. It still smelled of your old perfume. “I thought you’d been incinerated or given to a needy villager…”

“How come you don’t have to wear twenty-thousand layers!?” Daniela demands of her sister with a high pitched whine, her face stormy.

“Because.” 

It’s all Cassandra offers flippantly before Bela rolls her eyes, ushering the three of you out the front door. “Enough, let’s go.”

The four of you march out the door into the pleasant afternoon air, the pine needles crunching satisfyingly under your shoes. You’re glad it hasn’t rained lately, as your boots hadn’t been returned to you with your jacket, and your maid slippers wouldn’t last five minutes in the mud. Though the temperature is comfortable, you pull your jacket tighter around you, reveling in the feeling of the soft leather under your fingers once again. A feeling you never thought you’d have again. You can’t help but wonder why it was returned to you in the first place…

As you near the village, trailing slightly behind the three sisters, a strange wave of nostalgia and homesickness hits you. The old, battered rooftops of the crumbling houses, the chickens running loose through the streets, the occasional villager rushing to their destination with a cold, unfriendly expression. It was all the same. The only difference was the lack of snow and bitter wind chilling you to your very bones. 

“Ugh, brat!”

A stray clump of mud is flung in front of you before a childish slap fight breaks out between the youngest and middle Dimitrescu.

Okay, two differences.

“Where are we headed?” You lean into Bela and a pang of hurt runs through you when she slightly leans back, keeping you from making contact. 

“We’re looking for someone.” She responds in a cryptid way, eyes trained forward, before she pushes on past her sisters with a scoff. “You’re both being childish.” She hisses and you can’t help but frown at her tightly wound demeanor. 

The four of you continue on through the village, people scurrying out of the way upon seeing the Dimitrescus, aided by Cassandra’s occasional open-mouthed hisses when they didn’t flutter away fast enough.

At least someone was having fun.

An uneasy air had settled on you after Bela’s short answer to your question, and you keep closer behind her, careful not to accidentally brush her copious layers of coats. 

Eventually you come to a stop outside of one of the many worn, wooden cabins on the edge of the village. It’s separated from the rest of the homes, a large plot of farmland on all sides. A hefty gust of wind blows against the four of you as you reach the door and it feels like an omen.

Bela shifts her weight, seemingly restless. “Head in, we’ll be right behind you.”

“Um…” Your gaze flickers between the three sisters, Bela and Daniela looking visually apprehensive, whereas Cassandra looks torn between anxious and excited. “Why?”

“There’s something we have to check around the back. We will be in after you.”

Bela’s tone was clipped with no room for argument, even if she didn’t seem entirely sure. It reminded you of her behavior the night Mother Miranda came to the castle. 

Fear washes over you, chilling you as though it’s winter again and you’re back to freezing in your little leather jacket. You give a small nod before pressing your hand against the splintered wood of the rotting cottage door. It groans under your pressure but acquiesces, slowly pushing back, revealing a darkened interior. Eventually, the heavy door continues on its own until it slams into the wall behind it with a ‘bang!’ that makes you jump in your skin. Hesitantly, you step further in, the wooden floor creaking beneath your slippers. Every part of this place alerts of your presence and the sounds make you wince. 

A muffled noise reaches your ears and you snap your head up, frantically searching for the sound. You see nothing. 

It reaches your ears again and you realize it must be coming from the next room around the corner, and you wish you had something in your hands to use as a weapon. Why did the girls bring you here? 

Maybe they considered you tainted, now. Used by their God and therefore worthless.

Maybe Mother Miranda had ordered it, having had her fill of you, wanting you disposed of.

You swallow the lump in your throat and continue to creep along the hall towards the source of the noise you were clearly brought here to confront. The wood keeps creaking under your weight as you bring yourself closer and closer, until eventually you round the corner and your breath catches in your throat.

In front of you sits a man, bound to a small, rickety chair. His sandy hair falls forward in his face, but his familiar green eyes lazily work their way up as you come into view. He smiles upon seeing you. “Miranda… was it? Of course. How could I forget?”

Your stomach twists as you take him in. You think you’re going to be sick.

You want to scream, to cry, to rip your hair out. To rip his hair out.

But all you do is stand, frozen in place, eyes wide. 

A figure glides up behind him, running a golden-clawed hand through his hair before curling their fingers backward to grip his head and wrench it back, and a broken gasp tearing from his throat. Your eyes snap up to find none other than the angelic face of Mother Miranda, lit by the late afternoon sun filtering through the dusty window. Her grip yanks again, bending his neck at an unnatural angle, but her eyes zero in on you, the blue in them flashing brightly.

Everything stops. Time is frozen as you stare straight into the eyes of God.

“Hello, my little crow.”

Time resumes.

There’s a myriad of emotions flooding you, and you don’t know which to pay attention to first. Your desperation. Your rage. Your longing. Your hate. Your desire.

“Relax your jaw, sweet girl.”

You do as you’re asked, unaware that you were even clenching tightly in the first place. 

With a flick of her hand, Miranda releases the man’s head, sending it forward so harshly you think it might snap his neck. Not that you’d mourn. It would be what he deserves.

In her measured way, Mother Miranda prowls closer to you, circling around until she is behind you, her hands gently cradling your shoulders. She lowers her mouth to your ear and you shiver at the warmth of her breath. “You know him, no?”

You swallow and nod, watching the man raise his head weakly to regard you once again.

“I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you alive.” He slurs his words as though he’s drunk.

Liar.

“I knew you were tough. Smart. Much smarter than me. I knew you’d make it.” He continues and your blood boils. 

Mother Miranda continues her sweet words in your ear as her hands slide down your arms before they release their hold. “Benjamin is the reason you’re here at all, is he not?”

He looks the same as the day you’d come to the village, although, a bit worse for the wear at the moment. His green eyes still hold that friendly facade, his smile hides something selfish and sinister. Even tied back, his movements hold that same lazy, blasé style from when you’d met him six months ago. 

“Yes.”

You can’t see it, but you know the priestess smiles behind you.

Benjamin chuckles, despite his current position, and you remember that laugh.

“I’m sorry things went this way. I wish you all the best, truly.”

Your mouth twitches with anger as you remember the day you came to the village. The friendly green eyes that greeted you at the Inn. The wide-toothed smile that led you away from the town center. The laugh that seemed a bit off to you. The voice that haunted your dreams for months. The last face you saw before waking up in Castle Dimitrescu…

The clack of heels shakes you out of your memory as Mother Miranda rounds the other side of you, crossing back to Benjamin, who is limply leaning against his bonds. Standing behind him once again, the blonde made direct eye contact with you before cutting through the ties holding him to the chair with her nail guards.

“Thank you, Mother Miranda…” He coos, his eyes filled with devotion and…

…lust.

Your fists tighten and it alerts you to something foreign in your right hand. You look down to find a silver blade. When did that get there? It’s similar to the one you’d reached for this morning in the kitchen. That felt so long ago now, like days had passed. 

Warm breath brushes across your neck and you look up to find that Mother Miranda is no longer standing near Benjamin, but rather behind you once again.

He smiles at you and takes a step forward. 

You grip the handle of the blade in your hand.

A strange, violent glee fills you and you wish you were the fourth Dimitrescu sister with sharp teeth to match your need for flesh.

You want to gorge yourself on his throat.

“What do you want to do, my little crow?”

(Rip it out and leave it a bloody sacrifice)

Oooh, there’s that little voice again. This time it’s enticing, it’s welcoming. Like an old friend greeting you upon returning home. How could you ever have doubted its presence?

Your bones are vibrating. Your blood is singing. God is whispering in your ear with a sweet smile, encouraging you to release this man from his mortal prison.

It would be inconsiderate of you to ignore God’s gentle provocation. Especially when her breath is fanning your neck so gently and you just know her eyes are blown wide, waiting for your decision.

You shouldn’t disappoint her. Really, you shouldn’t.

Benjamin takes another step.

Fool.

Without making a sound your arm shoots forward, knife sinking into such soft skin, so pliable under the metal. Too pliable, really. Who knew it was this easy?

His expression remains the same, the only change being the blood now spurting from his neck, coating your face, your hair, your shirt as he collapses to the ground, twitching with what remains of his life. 

Your mind flashes images of Anabelle before you as you stare at the man bleeding out on the floor. This kill wasn’t as clean, but just as effective.

You stare at him harder.

Reality begins to settle. 

Dead.

This man is dead.

You killed him.

You’re torn between horror and… a strange satisfaction.

No. That’s not right. You’re not a murderer. You don’t enjoy things like this. Quick, shallow breaths work their way in and out of your chest as you try to grasp what you’ve just done and you feel lightheaded.  A strong pair of arms wrap around you from behind, preventing you from simply crumpling to the floor, buckling under your wobbly knees. A saccharine voice coos in your ear. “That’s it, my sweet girl. You’re alright.”

You lean into the warmth, the safety, the voice telling you it will all be okay, rotating in her arms so as to curl into her breast, blocking out the rest of the world. You clutch to her like a lifeline as you press your face into her robes, attempting to block out of the reality of what you’ve done. 

You feel a hand brushing against your hair, now sticky with blood.

“I’m so proud of you, little crow.” God coos in your ear, her voice dripping with satisfaction, and you finally relax in her hold. Yes. You did what you had to. What was deserved. He deserved it. You slowly lift your chin to look God in the eye and find her looking down at you with a fire, an intensity. Her hand lifts to cup your chin. She dips down to press a firm kiss to your bloody lips and everything settles in your mind.

Her next words against your skin echo something that has stuck in your brain since you last saw her. 

“Are you happy now, my little dove?”

I decided to start posting the full chapters of my fanfiction on here too, instead of sharing the links to my ao3 account. Enjoy!

Playing dangerous - Mother Miranda/reader

-

You make the mistake to accept an awfully suspicious babysitter job , fooled by fake smiles , at first sight innocent looking children and money...

Soon you begin to suffer the consequences of your decisions while the secrets of this unusual family start to reveal themselves one by one.

Will you survive long enough to discover them all?

-

Warning for explicit content.

Chapter 1: First impressions

The payment is high, way too high. Nobody gives that much money for a simple babysitter job - just to watch over a probably bratty kid. The job description is nothing but a phone number and a promise for a cozy , individual room. No specific requirements, no age or education restrictions , not even an address - nothing. You wonder what the catch is.

Yet...money is money , and you desperately need it at moment like this. The bed creaks as you unbend your legs to get up, and several of the many unpaid letter bills fall from it. Your steps are slow , your body is hot , you're sweating - it's awful to have a perfectly fine air conditioner and still not be able to use it , in a attempt to save as much energy and money as you can.

You nervously pick your nails while you wait for someone to answer the phone. At least the number is real , a fact that makes you less scared of the possibility to get absolutely scammed. A part of you relaxes when a woman's voice comes through the receiver.

The voice is thick and enthusiastic, almost melancholic. She talks so freely, each one of her words comes out perfectly timed and pronounced. Her tone is sweet , somehow motherly and very convincing. The hint of an accent is present but you don't pay it much attention. Though she says a lot of stuff in the few minutes phone call , you manage to collect the needed information - which is the address and more details for the job.

Gripping the list with the address on it , quickly written during the short conversation, you stare at the computer screen with your bottom lip between your teeth. Your right leg shakes a little with every button you press , a big part of you still worried the said address is false.

However when the online map reveals the place you take a deep , calming breath. It's real , not a scam, not a joke. The satellite view shows a big mansion, separated from the nearby cities with several acres of dense forest. A few hours trip from your house, you look outside the window to peak at your car - fill it up with gas and you'll safely arrive at your destination.

Of course the house would be a mansion, you are even surprised it's not a castle, rich people tend to live isolated from others. You never understood this , but you are no stranger to the fancy house on the outskirts of big cities. Must be nice - quiet, peaceful,...lonely.

Your kitchen is less hot than your bedroom, due to the open window. The fridge is almost empty, with the departing of your father and the tight money budget you have stopped eating normally, to have a few full meals a day was a miracle, little snacks through the day were your saviour. You're not even hungry right now , but you stare at the leftover food , without blinking, for a moment you allow the darkness of the night to surround you, the silence is almost consuming. Then you shut the fridge door with a loud bang while your face grimaces.

You desperately need the money.

As you take your path down the corridor back to your bedroom, your your gaze shifts to the door of your father's room. It's empty and despite the hot weather it's cold , chilly even. When you open the door your nose wrinkles at the unpleasant smell of pills. The poor man takes them everyday and still nothing, the sickness still remains in his body - eating him from the inside out. The doctors said he was getting better and soon he might live normally again, on his own. That was few months ago, last night he was rushed to the hospital. You remember his face , the fear of death completely covering it. You remember his body - twitching around like a worm. He was getting better, but now you aren't sure if he'll manage to wake up again. His coma-like state can last for hours, days, months or even years...

You have hope , of course, but hope can easily turn you into a prisoner of your own mind before it disappears completely.

As the strong smell of medicine hits your nose , you turn on your heel to get out of the unpleasant room. You fear the smell might actually soak in your body and bones if you stay here a little longer. The promise you made to your father when he first started showing more serious symptoms fades with every step you take , closer to your bed.

What is the point in getting into med school if you can't pay your education? Will the dream of finding a cure for your father's unknown sickness be ever achieved? You close your eyes as you kick the blankets away from your already heated body. With the money from this job you can pay the house bills, the hospital bills and your semester, it's definitely worth a try.

Just a few months there and you can pay all of your debts. Your focused mind manages to relax and soon you fall asleep. Just a few months... everything should be okay...or at least you hope it would be.

***

You don't have a lot of things to pack up so you don't waste time in preparing your luggage - just a simple suitcase full of clothes and other necessary stuff, nothing fancy.

You quickly check your watch and smile upon seeing you're just in time to get going. A few hours trip from here , with normal speed and no stops.. you should be able to arrive at the agreed hour.

When you start your car , music blasts from your radio and you begin to hum along, trying to sing all the lyrics correctly. The road is long , the music is loud , the car is awfully hot but you're happy , exited even.

However, less than an hour after your departure it starts to rain. At first you're pleased, the cold rain will cool the road and make the journey more pleasant. But as you watch it turns into a strong and scary storm, your smile slowly evaporates from your face. Soon the whole sky goes black , filled with dark clouds, while the only light that can be seen is from the periodic , heavy , thunders. Their loud roar seems like it's going to tear the sky apart and it makes you shiver every time.

It's unusual, you checked the time and no thunderstorm was forecasted for today. The heavy rain makes it impossible to drive normally, you turn down the music in order to hear better if a car is approaching. The car wipers constantly wipe the wet windshield while you narrow your eyes so you can get a better view of the unrecognisable road.

Suddenly a flash of light brown colour runs Infront of your car and before you can even react - you hit it. Your breath hitches after the strong impact while your hands firmly squeeze the steering wheel, and your heart beats fast and irregularly. After you manage to calm down, you unbuckle your seat belt and open the door with trembling fingers.

The animal is still breathing when your gaze meets it's bloodshot eyes. You know the deer is going to lose it's fight with death, so you wait patiently, staring at it's huge, sharp antlers, the thich , dark blood pours from it's wounds - forming a bloody crown around it's head , and only when it takes it's last breath you get back in your car to get your phone and call the police. The animal is too large to be just left on the road , and your feeling of guilt towards it is too big not to help , even after you watched it die. Helpless and innocent, the deer's life didn't deserve to end like this.

While you wait you take a peak at your car - the deer hasn't done very severe damage but it'll definitely cost a lot to fix. You laugh. You haven't even started working and you're already wondering if the payment will be enough for you.

Unfortunately you don't care as much about this needless death as you do about the time you wasted explaining to the cops what happened and waiting for them to move the deer. Now you glare at your watch with a grimace, it's impossible to be on time , even the storm is not over yet... being late is a very bad first impression.

But it looks like the world is working against you.

***

You're already way too late, your eyebrows are furrowed and you clench your jaw when your connection gets lost and your navigation disappears. You curse , moving your head in different directions , trying to spot a car , a house, even a lonely walker would be helpful right now. You know you're almost there but without the online map you're not sure which road to take exactly - if you choose poorly and wrong you'll be even more late , you start to wonder if it's even worth it anymore.

Finally, as a gift sent by the gods, a red light shines in your eyes, so bright you almost close them completely. But as you force yourself to take a closer look, you smirk from ear to ear -a gas station.

The rain is so strong, it completely soaks your clothes as you make a quick run from your car to the automatically opening doors. Unfortunately for you there is a working air conditioner , blowing it's cold wind right at your damp body , and you shiver as your slippery legs guide you to the worker behind the cash register.

He looks old , his face is wrinkled and covored in tiny scars, it's mostly the salt - pepper beard that gives away his age. His eyes shine when he notices you, as if you're the first person he's seen in years. He's almost happy as you are , to finally see someone living after this old , boring road and dark , scary storm.

"Good evening, Miss" - his voice is raspy and rough, as he open his mouth a strong smell of alcohol hits your nose but you try to stay as still as possible, not trying to be rude - "Anything i can help you with?"

"Evening.." - you say with a burning feeling on your tongue, it was in fact evening and you were supposed to be at the mansion in the afternoon... You shove your hand in your pocket and pull out the crumpled piece of paper with the address written on it - "Do you know how i can get here?"

He carefully takes the paper from your fingers and his eyes quickly scan the ink on it. His smile drops and he gives you a concerned look as he puts the paper back into your hand.

"Nobody lives there , Miss"

Your body goes stiff and you swear you feel your heart stop for a moment. You blink a few times , hoping he's going to laugh any second now and reveal his awfully out of hand joke. When his face stays completely the same , you grit your teeth.

"What do you mean by that?" - you note how loud and rude your voice turns out to be and you try to lower it as you speak again - "I'm supposed to go there for a babysitter job...and i even talked with this woman Mir...mar.. what was her name again..-"

At that he cuts you of with a ringing laugh, then he coughs, an effect of his age, and the picture in front of you reminds you of your father, in those terrible evenings when he couldn't breathe normally from his terrible cough.

"You should have just said you were one of them!" - he continues to laugh as his hand moves to grab a bottle of water and he quick drinks the half of it with ease.

"Them?"

The water bottle, now completely empty and crumpled , flies right next to you and as you turn your head to follow it - your gaze catches it just as it falls into the trash can. The man puts his hands in the air and smiles , that must be an entertainment for him, then he clears his throat.

"One or two years ago , I'm not very certain, people started going to this house, with the same story as yours - this 'babysitter job' " - he makes air quotes with his fingers in a mocking, unsure way , then he continues - "a lot of people disappeared you know...even the police got involved yet nobody was found guilty."

As he continues to talk about the mysterious disappearances you loose yourself in thoughts, his story sounds way too familiar yet a part of you still hopes for his information to be wrong. You somehow convince yourself you'll still go , if nobody is there like the man says - you'll simply go back...and try to find another high payed job , which is nearly impossible.

"If you could give me directions on how to get there... I'll be thankful" - you wait for the perfect moment to talk back , just as he stops to caught his breath, you quickly note he doesn't only like to talk a lot but he does it rapidly. Some of his words even mess up with the others , making his sentence impossible to understand.

"You still want to go?" - he scoffs , fixing the name tag on his uniform - " These days... only the stupid or the brave wander there."

His glare was curious in which one you are , but your story was completely different.

"I'm afraid i have no other choice"

He blinks and his expression changes to a mocking grimace. A low whisper "the stupid" leaves his lips causing your hands to curl into fists but your tense body calms down as he slides his chair back, a map is hung on the wall behind him and he points the road you need to take with a pen. You try to quickly remember and memories it as he moves back forward.

"A pretty lady like you... shouldn't go to such dark place" - he says , and even though his words sound inappropriate you wonder if he's right, if that's the right choice - "better run back home, little deer"

"Have a good evening, sir"

You don't thank him as you walk outside. It's still raining but not as hard as before. You don't even bother to check your watch , knowing that even time is against you now. As you start your car and drive towards the mansion, your eyes wander at the road behind you. And you shake your head.

There's no turning back now.

***

Just as promised the grand , dark house is only surrounded by woods and nothing else. You park near the building and sigh with relief when you spot another car there. It looks new , a fancy looking dark jeep , with tinted windows and big tires. You walk around it , admiring the car's beauty.

And then your gaze shifts to the building. The gothic architecture of the mansion is magnificent , consuming, awfully alluring despite it's creepiness. It's exterior consists of dark gray stone, with pointed arches, ribbed vaults and carved moldings. The roof has numerous decorative features. Tall, arched windows are scattered around the building, and are made of stained glass that would probably reflect various colors in the sunlight if the sky wasn't as dark as the colour of the mansion.

You wonder what it would look like during the day if it looked so devine at night. You don't even realise how the gothic building has stopped your breathing for a second. It's beauty pulling you in , as if with a string connected to your soul. The atmosphere feels wrong, yet perfect at the same time.

You stop right in front of the main entrance and you swallow hard. The big , carefully carved symbols of deer's heads on the doors are the only thing that you didn't seem to like in this mansion. The image in front of you makes you remember your wet clothes and how sticky they are on your skin. You move uncomfortable, looking down at your feet, knowing your shoes and socks are damped not in rain water but in dark blood from the animal you killed on that road.

You're scared that memory will hunt you forever.

You knock a few times on the hard , wooden surface of the doors and when nothing happens you turn your head only to see a button for a ring bell. You press it and bite your lip as the loud ringing echoes through the house. You don't wanna wake anyone up , you know it's a bit (very) late but...

You ring again when nobody answers the first time. And again. And again until a shine of light from an upper window pours onto your face and body. Then you back away as you patiently wait for the almost silent steps from inside to reach the entrance. And as the doors finally open , you take a deep breath, straighten your back , shoulders back and chin up, fake smile on your dry lips. You try your best to look professional.

The first thing you notice when you see the woman that opened the door is how tall she is. Maybe if you try to measure it and walk next to her , the top of your head would be slightly above her chest. The darkness around you works against your vision and her full face is not on display but you can see parts of her attractive features, her dark blue eyes and mostly her golden hair. It pours like river around her neck and shoulders, and you note it's messy, meaning she was sleeping till now. Even though she just woke up, she looks divine and you curse yourself for forgetting her name.

"I'm so sorry to bother you this late, ma'am" - you excuse yourself and extend your hand , when she only gives it a glare - you retreat it, feeling embarrassed - "I'm... here for the babysitter job , we talked on the phone if you remem-"

"You're late" - her voice is sharp as a blade and you shiver , not completely because of the cold weather - "You were expected three..no, four hours ago , correct?"

Chilly wind rustles past you, making her pull her black robe tighter around her body. You are both cold , and you want to finish up this conversation so badly.

"There was an accident on the road and I-"

Before you can continue your story she puts her hand up , silencing you immediately.

"I don't need to know , that information is useless" - she declares while her lips twitch and she give you an unpleasant look - "what matters is that you have awaken me in the middle of the night with that hideous bell."

Your mouth opens to protest, it's not even that late , she's making a big deal over nothing, however you can agree with her , It's inappropriate to bother someone in such annoying way but it's her mean tone and words that bothers you. Yet you stop yourself before you can say what you really think. Instead you rephrase your sentence before speaking it out loud.

"Ma'am, respectfully, we can argue all night, but it's raining and my clothes are soaked." - you want to point out how she's in a perfectly fine condition but you decide it's better if you reject that though . Her impression for you it's probably very low , you don't wanna bury it completely.

The woman gives you a glare , then she slowly pokes her head outside, looking carefully around, while small drops of rain land on her golden locks. As her gaze locks on your car she asks with a soft tone:

"Are you alone?"

"Yes" - you quickly answer, your body even more tense than before. Why does she ask about you being alone? Weird.

"Come in, then" - the invite is short and quiet but you waste no time in following her into the mansion. Her walk is slow , elegant, in an attempt not to stare at her legs you move your gaze up and then around the house. It's dark so you can't see much , the decor and furniture are mostly black with a hint of red , everything is nicely placed and organised. The only bad thing is that the inside of the mansion feels even colder than the weather outside.

"I'll prepare you a cup of tea. You may rest there" - she points to a small table with two soft-looking armchairs and you sit on one of them while she makes a turn for another room, probably the kitchen. You allow yourself to look around, now seeing the inside better since she turned on a few lamps , the mansion is huge, you don't even remember the way to the door.

Too busy to admire the spectacular paintings on the walls , you don't hear her when she approaches you again. You only turn your head to her when she cleans her throat.

The tea is amazing, the temperature is just perfect, not too hot in order to save the herbs in it , while the sweetness is not from sugar but honey. You lick your dry lips as you continue to take small sips.

The woman doesn't speak to you, she gets something from the table and when you take a look at the object in her hands - you note it's a pack of cigarettes.

"Do you want one?" - she softly asks , one hand extended to you while the other is back on the table in search for something else. Her lips curl up when she finds her lighter.

"I don't smoke" - the moment you refuse, she retreats her arm and her fingers work quickly to get herself a cigarette. The flame from the blue lighter burns the tip of it. Her soft looking lips wrap around the cigarette and she inhales , her back presses to the seat of the armchair while the cigarette smoke drifts from her lips to cover her face behind a vivid veil.

"Me neither...i just can't resist, after a long day" - you nod to show that you understood and she smiles , her face becomes even more attractive as she does.

The woman's fingers shake the thin cigarette and you watch as the ashes from it fall to the perfectly clean floor. You're surprised, she doesn't look like a person who would dirty their house like this. Yet she does it again, and again, till her cigarette is finished and she tosses it to the floor, right on top of the ashes.

The silence that grew between you is so thick you can actually try and probably succeed to cut with a knife. She fidgets with the pack of cigarettes in her hand while ignoring your staring. You quickly realise she's waiting for you to say something.

"I apologise again, for bothering you like this , ma'am."

"Don't you think it's a bit late to be so formal?" - she chuckles , her left hand playing with the edges of her nightgown. You note she can't sit still without doing something with her hands , like holding or fidgeting.

"I'm sorry, ma-"

"Just Miranda is fine" - so that is her name, you promise yourself you'll try to remember it - "and stop apologising, so annoying..."

You also discover she can be awfully rude from time to time. But you're sure you can handle her. Which reminds you of asking more about the job. However before you can do that , Miranda cuts you off.

"It's getting late , we will talk more tomorrow during your interview"

"My interview?" - you question , tilting your head to the side. You didn't know there is going to be an interview, you thought the job was yours already! You haven't prepared yourself for anything like this. What if she asks you questions you're not ready or simply don't have the knowledge to answer?

Seeing you panic amuses her and she gives you another smile.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-five" - her question confuses you even more but to your suprise she looks pleased.

"So young..." - she whispers, her fingers now playing with the lighter, making the fire appear and disappeared in short, rapid seconds - "i assume you don't have children, correct?"

"No , I don't...but what does it mat-"

"Then I won't expect you to understand how careful i am when it comes to my daughter, accepting you into my house is me pitying you" - she places the lighter on the table and crosses her legs as she turns her full attention to you - "but if you wish to stay, i must be certain i can trust you"

"I think i understand... you have your reasons"

"Very good" - she stands up and you immediately follow her gesture , Miranda then points at the staircase - "your room it's upstairs, the only open door, you'll easily find it."

She walks away from you faster than you can process. When she's almost in the room next to the one you're currently in , you decide to speak.

"Goodnight, Miranda"

That makes her stop , and she turns to look at you while you begin to walk up the stairs.

"Sleep well" - is all she says , before her fingers press the light switch and she allows the darkness of the mansion to consume her.

***

As said there is only one room with an open door at one of the corridors upstairs. The upper part of the house is a little bit more warm and you walk slowly to your room, careful not to trip and fall down since the absence of light still remains and you can barely see a thing.

You press your shoulder to the door frame while your hand roams along the wall in search for a light switch. When you finally find it and press the room lights up and you smile. But then you look up and almost fall backwards.

In the middle of the room stands a little girl, motionless and staring right at you. Dressed all in black, she looks as if she's blending into the night without a care. The fingers of her left hand twitch and she blinks , covering her emerald colour eyes.

You shake your head and move forward. You got scared of a child, just a child. The girl's eyes follow your strictly from when you were at the door till now , as you're right in front of her. Your knees bend so you can be at the same eye level as her.

"Hey sweetie, you are Miranda's daughter, right?" - you try to be as polite as possible, all while giving her a wide smile. Get the kid to like you and the mother will love you.

"Her second, yes" - the girl moves to a side and begins to circle around you, and your mind is occupied by what she just said , plus the awful squeaking of the wooden door.

"Second?" - you ask with a hint of unsurenes, your eyes try to follow the black spot the girl is becoming as she moves faster around you. For a moment you loose her , as you begin to quickly look around for her the door slams closed and you jump , the unexpected noise scares you so much you almost scream.

"Don't you think it's weird?" - her voice echoes behind you and you turn to find emptiness, your head rapidly spins around, trying hard to spot the little girl - "so much money just to take care of a single child? What's the catch?"

"What is it?" - you repeat after her , unfocused and nervous.

"Sweet little Eva is the bait" - the voice sounds so clear behind you , it makes you immediately turn back to finally be face to face with the girl. She then points at herself - "but I'm the catch , and i get to choose."

"What...what do you mean, who are you?" - you pour the questions out while grabbing your forehead , your head felling a little dizzy.

"I told you, I'm Miranda's daughter...at least that is what she says" - she whispers the last part , then takes a few steps to the bed and sits down , a smile appears on her face as she presents herself - "but if you wish to know my name - It's Eveline."

"So... your mother lies about only having one child, ..why?" - your head feels better now , and you blame it on the shock this girl managed to do to you in just a few minutes.

"It's easier to find someone who'd like to take the job...and i guess I'm difficult" - she lowers her head and begins to play with her fingers - "but it's okay because mother allows me to choose...if you'll get this job or not"

"What? What about the interview?"

"She'll only listen to my opinion, amuse me and the money you so desperately need is yours , disappoint me and you're out of here" - Eveline smiles , even though she looks no more than ten years old she talks like an adult.

"Okay... what's ...your favourite colour..?" - you raise your shoulders in unsurenes as she rolls her eyes at you.

"Don't be silly, I'm not in the mood to play twenty questions with you"

You raise your hands in the air and walk back.

"Look, i don't know what exactly you want from me but I-"

"Do you have any siblings?" - Eveline interrupts you , her face covored in curiosity. As you observe her visage closely you note how she doesn't look like Miranda at all.

"I don't, but I'm good with kids , i assure you"

Eveline hums in approval, then she looks around the room , as if lost in thoughts. You cross your arms when her gaze falls upon you again.

"Are you in a relationship with someone?"

"I have a boyfriend, yes" - even though it's weird of her to ask you this , you decide not to question her. All you need to do is give her the answers she wants to hear and hope for her to whisper good things about you in Miranda's ear.

"And how long do you plan to stay here?"

"Till my father gets better, he's sick and needs help"

"He needs money" - Eveline smirks and maybe that gesture is the only thing that reminds you of Miranda in her.

"That's why I'm here , Eveline, i hope both you and your mother understand."

The little girl jumps off the bed and slowly walks to the door, before she can press the handle she turns to look at you.

"Your test is simple" - she whispers , and the corner of her lips curl up but his time her smile look genuine - "don't mention anything about me or this conversation until mother decides to present me personally to you."

"I understand"

Eveline opens the door and walks down the corridor, leaving you alone. Once you hear another door to open and close you shut and lock yours. Standing still in the middle of the room you realise your clothes are still soaked, and your suitcase is far away , in the car.

You curse, looking around the cozy looking room. Then you spot a pile of clothes on the bed. Your feet quickly guide you to it but you realise it's only a nightgown and a robe. Still... better than nothing.

You're glad you have your own bathroom. The warm water is like heaven on earth and the expensively smelling shampoos clean your body to perfection. You put the white nightgown on and waste no time to crawl under the covers.

A big part of you feels disappointment when you check your phone and see no new notifications. No news from the hospital, not a single call from your boyfriend, not even a message. You sigh and turn off your phone. He promised he would find time to call you today, he promised. You close your eyes and soon fall asleep.

Your last thought is how strange this mansion is, along with the family that lives there. maybe the man from the gas station was right, you should have escaped while you had time.

Now you're left to wonder if you too will end up like the innocent deer.

WHAT IF:

When you tell Miranda about the rumours in resident lover, instead of reacting the way she did , she just decides to risk it all by trapping you on her desk and kissing you like she's starving for you.

"This is not going to help the rumours at all"

"No. But it will help me"

New chapter, done done ‼️🌞

Just wanted to share my fanfiction on here too! Lots of spooky vibes and mysteries 🌜