Chapter Text
Lady Dimitrescu gazed out of an arched window and sighed longingly.
She’s standing in the throne room, the most spacious area in the castle. Several large windows line the wall in front of the countess, and from her viewpoint, the entire layout of the village can be seen below. The pleasant weather outside suggests that this morning will be almost as beautiful as she is.
She should be happy; today is her birthday, and that means that she has no work to do, no errands to run, and no spur-of-the-moment meetings with her adoptive family. She didn't have to lift a finger to do anything.
Instead of sleeping in on her special day, though, she'd leaped out of her enormous bed a few minutes prior and rushed to the window while still in her nightgown. She did this around the same time every morning, and the picturesque vista outside never failed to look stunning.
But she didn't wake up to view the scenery. The reason for her gazing outside was much more personal: she had fallen in love with one of the villagers.
This one in particular was a woman younger than her. For the past few weeks, she’d been watching over her with a protective gaze. Due to her cadou-blessed eyesight, she didn't need a pair of binoculars to get a clear view of her.
From the comfort of her own castle, the matriarch kept close track of the woman's schedule. Even from so far away, she'd learned a few things about the object of her affection: she lived by herself, she had a fenced-in garden that she took care of diligently, and she worked at the florist all day until evening, just when the sun started to set.
Suddenly, the girl made her expected appearance. She opened the front door to her tiny house and started walking up the hill leading to the florist. Lady Dimitrescu felt a jolt of excitement and held a hand up to the window. It felt cool against her skin, reminding her of how cold she felt in her bed every night.
After the girl had made it safely to her workplace, the giantess looked down at her hand touching the window and withdrew it, suddenly feeling disgusted with herself. It was foolish to get attached to someone who she didn't even know, someone who would only see her as a giant monster.
She was so occupied with her hopeless situation that she didn't notice Bela, her eldest daughter, standing right next to her. She did a double-take and jumped; how long had she been there?
"Happy birthday!" The blonde chirped happily, pulling her very large mother into a hug. No doubt she was here to ask her if she had any last-minute gift ideas, and her next sentence confirmed this theory:
"Are you sure there isn't anything you want for your birthday this year?" Bela knew she wouldn't get an honest answer, but she wanted her mother to at least know that she cared enough to ask.
Lady Dimitrescu's daughters had spent all week bothering her about what gifts she might like. But in all honesty, there wasn’t a thing they could get her that she didn’t already have. Being rich had its merits, and one of them was that you could afford any physical luxury you desired.
There’s one thing that she wanted, though: the affection of the woman she'd been watching over from afar. Too bad that love couldn’t be bought; if that had been the case, she’d never have to worry about being lonely.
“What more could I ask for?” The taller woman replied, not exactly answering her daughter’s inquiry. "I have you three girls, and we make the perfect family, wouldn't you say?"
“You say that every year,” Bela frowned. “Are you sure there’s nothing different you can think of this time around?” She continued, curious to see if her mother would crack and admit to something.
“Anything I could ever want, I already have,” Lady Dimitrescu assured her, patting her on the head.
“I guess it can’t be helped,” Bela admitted, content that her mother was in a good mood, yet disappointed at her response. “But if you change your mind, let me know,” she said before dispersing into a cloud of flies and leaving the room.
After she was sure her daughter was gone, Lady Dimitrescu sighed with relief, thankful that she didn’t keep pressing her for details. She came close to admitting what, or rather who, she had wanted for her birthday, and that would have been dangerous.
She knew that if she confessed her desire, her daughters would stop at nothing to give her what she wanted. Taking the girl hostage and bringing her to the castle wouldn't be off the table. They always went above and beyond her expectations, and wanted nothing more than to make her happy, but it wouldn’t work in this situation. Even if they brought the woman here with a bow on her head, none of them could force her to love their mother.
Money could buy you anything, sure, but it couldn't buy love. She had tried winning the affection of numerous maids, but they were all too terrified to reciprocate (perhaps this was because she killed off anybody who made her the slightest bit angry).
Lady Dimitrescu returned to her bed, hoping to get in a few more hours of sleep on her birthday. She had no idea that her eldest daughter already knew about her crush on the villager…
-
Bela wasn’t surprised by the interaction she’d just had with her mother, but she was still a bit annoyed that every attempt to read her mind had failed.
“Well?” Cassandra asked, leaning against the wall and examining one of her nails. “Did she say anything different this time?”
"The usual," Bela replied. "But I know she's lying. I've been watching her the past few days, and I found out that she has a crush on a villager." At this admission, Daniela's eyes seemed to light up.
"And how do you know that for sure?" Cassandra prodded, not impressed. She had a feeling that Bela wasn't telling the full side of her story.
"I… I read her diary," Bela blurted, not proud of her admission. Her younger sisters stared at her. "I know, I know. It was wrong of me to do, but Mother will be thanking me by the time this is all over."
"Wow, I never expected you to do such a thing," Cassandra said, crossing her arms and suddenly looking interested. "You're terrible. What did it say?"
"Nice try, but I’m not just gonna splurge all her secrets. What kind of eldest daughter would I be if I did that?” Bela growled. “So, If we want to impress her for her birthday, I think we should go through with an idea I have..."
She didn't have to elaborate on what she meant by 'an idea'; her sisters already knew what she thinking about.
"So we're kidnapping the villager and bringing her here," Daniela surmised. "But how do we know for sure which one she is? It's a woman, obviously, but that doesn't narrow down the selection pool enough. And it's not like we can just ask Mother who she is…"
"Her diary did all the work for us! Mother described everything we'll need to know about her: her height, hair color, job occupation..." Bela trailed off. “Going on all that, we should be able to finger – er, pick out the right woman,” she stammered, blushing over her awkward wording (Cassandra cackled at her expense).
"But what if she finds out what we're up to?" Daniela panicked, terrified of the possibility. "She'll kill us. And who knows what she'd do to you if she found out you read her diary," she said, referring to her eldest sister.
"That's why neither of you are going to tell her," Bela threatened. She offered out both of her hands. "Pinkie swear on it."
All three of them held hands. If anybody else had been watching, their swear would've looked like a dark ritual; all it needed was a pentagram on the floor.
"You should’ve seen the way she looked out that window. I’ve never seen her so distracted," Bela said, smiling at the thought of her mother gazing into the distance.
“Isn’t that romantic?” Daniela sighed dramatically. “After not having anyone in so long… Maybe this woman will be The One,” she said while rubbing a tear out of her eye.
“Please,” Cassandra scoffed, rolling her eyes at her younger sister’s overly sentimental nature. “She's only going to be kept as a pet. Mother would never put her on the same level as a lover.”
“But what if they’re actually compatible with each other?” Bela persisted. “You never know! It could happen. This is the best chance she’s had with anyone since… well, ever.”
"Maybe we could even keep her present as our own pet. We could brush her hair, dress her up, and do her makeup so that she looks good for Mother," Daniela gushed, getting excited at the mere thought.
"How are we getting her? Does the plan involve violence in any way?" Cassandra hoped. If there wasn’t any infliction of bodily harm onto some poor sap, it just wasn’t interesting to her.
“Every morning, she goes to work at the flower shop on the hill. She stays there all day until the sun starts to set, and then she leaves. We’ll jump her as soon as she gets home," Bela explained.
"But she probably locks the front door when she’s away at work. How are we going to get in?" Daniela reminded them, oblivious to the fact that she was one of the main reasons why the villagers locked their doors in the first place.
"We can get in through a window," Cassandra answered. “And if they’re locked, we’ll just break one of them.” She looked down at the sickle in her hand, fantasizing about doing violent things with it.
"How are we going to bring her here and keep her a surprise if she's awake, though?" Daniela asked. "It'll be hard to surprise Mother with a captive who fights back." It would certainly be awkward if Lady Dimitrescu was given a present that screamed.
"She’ll probably be thirsty when she comes home, so we could put something in her drink," Cassandra suggested. "Then we won’t have to struggle to keep her under control.”
“What if she doesn’t want a drink?” Daniela countered, not yet completely convinced that this plan would work. “How would we knock her out then?”
“We’ll punch her,” Cassandra proposed, completely serious. The smirk on her face suggested that she hoped the plan would work out that way.
"And then we’ll leave a sign on her front door that says she’s been taken here for employment. The villagers are terrified of us, so nobody will bother to search for her. And if anyone dares to try, we’ll kill them," Bela said, grinning evilly at the thought. “It’s a win-win situation for all of us, really.”
Cassandra and Daniela had to admit that her idea seemed pretty flawless; maybe it was because of their older sister’s determination for everything to work out, or perhaps it was due to fate itself.
"I believe we've hashed out all the things that could go wrong,” Bela concluded, feeling satisfied that her plan was foolproof. “Now we just have to wait for the sun to set…”
-
You walk outside the florist shop and inhale the fresh air that greets you. You’ve just finished work after a long day of dealing with horrendous customers, and you're treating yourself to one of the best views the area has to offer.
The florist shop that you work at is located on top of a hill, and behind it are a few small greenhouses. Surrounding them is the cemetery, and further back, the forest and mountains beyond. The view from up here allows you to see the entire village below. It always takes your breath away, but not simply because of the beautiful scenery.
There’s something else that can be seen from up here: Castle Dimitrescu. It borders a good portion of the village, so it’s hard to keep out of your line of sight. You’ve heard your fair share of rumors about the place and its denizens; one of your favorites was that the castle’s owner, Lady Dimitrescu, was so big that she had to use paint rollers to apply nail polish.
Based on the picture of her in the church, you knew what she looked like (you refuse to let yourself admit that she’s attractive). You haven’t actually seen her in person, though, and you hope you never will (or maybe you do). You often had nightmares about being taken away by her or her daughters; there was said to be three of them, and they were apparently just as terrible as she was.
Thank goodness you have a job. You’re very lucky to have it, even if it gets boring on slow days. The only reason you got one in the first place is because your mother was close with the shop’s owner. Had it not been for nepotism, you’d be jobless… which means that you would’ve been chosen (forced) to work at the castle in order to make ends meet. And if you had to work there... you shudder just thinking about it.
After saying goodbye to the shop owner, you take your leave. You don’t live far away, as everything in the village is within walking distance. The sun will be setting soon, though, so you quicken your pace, paranoid about walking alone this late.
Occasionally you feel as if you’re being watched, but every time you look behind you, there’s nobody there. Every time you walked close to the castle, you got the sensation that someone was watching you from within its high towers; on more than one occasion, you could’ve sworn that a pair of eyes were burning into your back.
You open the door to your house and sigh with relief, glad to have gotten here safely. Now that you're alone, you plan on indulging yourself in some self-care; you deserve it after having such a rough day at work, as even a small village like this one has more than a fair share of rude customers.
The first thing you do is make yourself a glass of hot tea. Once that's done, you take it into the dining room (your house is so small that it consists of only a kitchen, a dining area, a bathroom, and a bedroom) carefully so as not to spill it. You take a seat at the dinner table and wait for your drink to cool.
A fly suddenly zooms towards you, and to your annoyance, it hovers over your drink a bit before landing on the rim of your cup. It then rubs its hands together like a tiny criminal (you never understood why they did this). You try shooing it away, but the several attempts you make to scare it off only leads to it coming back.
For a moment, the fly seems to hover above the tea in your mug, as if it was testing how hot it is… or perhaps trying to ‘bless’ your drink with its germs. Disgusted, you try to swat it with a small towel that you use to clean the table after meals. You miss, but the fly leaves you alone for a few seconds.
You take a sip of your drink, and thankfully, it doesn't taste like fly germs have tainted it. You finish it in a few more gulps and start to feel drowsy. Tea usually has that effect on you, though, so you dismiss this.
For a moment, you entertain the idea that maybe the fly put something in your drink and inwardly scoff at yourself. Flies don’t have the intelligence to plan out such a thing… right? The reason you feel so tired is because you had a long day at work; there wasn't any deeper reason.
A few seconds later, the fly returns, followed by two of its friends. Despite the fact that they're just animals, something about their actions seems… deliberate, if that’s possible. You raise a hand to scare these ones away, too, before the sound of buzzing fills your ears.
The hairs on the back of your neck raise; it’s as if a whole swarm is right behind you. You then hear something crash, and turn your head towards the noise to see what's happening.
You wish you hadn’t.
The room is filled with flies. Plates and kitchen utensils are being knocked over in the whirling tornado of bugs; you want to run away, but your legs suddenly seem as if they're glued to the floor. It’s like running from something in a nightmare: your head is screaming at you and telling you to move, but your legs won’t let you.
But even if your legs could comply, you think they wouldn’t do you any good, because you feel yourself getting weaker by the moment. You cover your ears with your hands to prevent any flies from crawling into them and try to step away from the table.
Your legs feel as if they’re pillars made of concrete, but you force yourself to take a small step. Amazingly, your body complies, and you take another one. Limping along like this might take a while, but it’s all you can do at the moment.
If you want to get out of your house, you’ll have to fight your fatigue while making sure not to step on any of the glass lying on the floor. This seems simple enough, yet you seem to get more and more tired with every step you take.
At one point, you’re so delusional from exhaustion that you think you can see the swarm briefly split into three groups and take on the shapes of women.
“You’re going to be such a good gift for Mother,” a feminine, mocking voice calls out, and then you’re hit by a wave of clarity: there was a rumor that Lady Dimitrescu had three daughters made of bugs, wasn’t there?
But why had they come for you? You hadn’t done anything wrong, and besides, you’re already employed by someone else. This must be a case of mistaken identity, but it’s not like these… creatures will believe you when you tell them that; they’re having way too much fun with you right now.
Shivering with fear and exhaustion, you can’t stop yourself from falling over to the side, toward the shards of glass littering the floor. Before your head hits the ground, you feel something soft against it, and then your entire body is lifted up. It seems as if you’re being cradled, and you hear a voice from somewhere above you (at least, you think that’s where it’s coming from):
“Sleep tight,” whispers the figure who’s carrying you. A fit of manic giggles is the last thing you hear before falling asleep in the (unusually comfortable) arms of a monster.
Only time will tell if you ever wake up again.