Biting cold. Snarling creatures lurking in the darkness. And a severe laceration that might have nicked her organs. There is no hope for agent Natalya. She knows that. The transport has long since left and darkness has fallen. And that was well over twelve hours ago. Long before the vampire woman slashed her across the torso.
It was supposed to be a simple recon. Nothing should have been here. Obviously there was a breakdown in communication.
Natalya isn't wondering if she can survive long enough for someone to notice. She's debating how long it'll take to die. If she can make it quick. She's been bluffing, her gun is empty. Somewhere along the way she dropped her combat knife.
Deciding letting the frost take her might be the quickest, most humane way to go Natalya tries to move. But she can't. She's too weak. Shivering has stopped. Shortly after she succumbs to the cold, closing her eyes and thanking whatever higher power may be that it's all over.
Miranda arrives at Moreau's dock with a sneer.
"Mother Miranda!"
"What is it?"
"I found a soldier. They were snooping- Alcina slashed it."
This hardly seems like something worth being dragged away from her newborn over. But, bodies are never to be passed up. Especially when they're strangers who the villagers won't mourn.
"Let me see."
Back at the lab Mia looks up. Her face falls seeing the body Miranda leaves on the table.
"Is she dead?"
"Not quite. The snow preserved her head and organs well. Unfortunately most of the limbs are a wash. I need to act quickly."
"Come to bed when you're done," Mia murmurs, making her way to their room in what was once her cell. Inside, beside the bed, is a cradle with a happily sleeping bundle. The ceremony was successful, this time, and Eva is three months old now.
Natalya's first thought when she wakes is disbelief, relief, and pain in that order. Something is amiss but she can't put her finger on what.
Her finger.
Why can't she feel her fingers? Or her toes? Then she feels it. Soft fingers brushing her forehead. Her eyes are covered. She can barely move even when she's trying to thrash.
"She's waking up," A voice grumbles, "She'll need time to heal. She's not reacting well to my blood. We'll try Alcina's. She's already tall enough."
A grating, shrill voice snaps back, "When will she get up?"
"I don't know yet. Be glad I'm giving her to you at all."
There's a pinch in her neck and Natalya is pulled under again.
It's the nicest thing Miranda has ever done for Donna. When the raven woman appeared at her door Donna felt the familiar icy grip of fear. Respect, born from terror. She summoned Angie to her hand but Miranda wasn't interested in listening, as usual.
The woman Miranda brought was placed on Donna's workbench. Obviously the sole surviving Beneviento had no say in the matter. Miranda had explained what the woman was and how she'd come to be there.
Miranda had called this woman Donna's new toy. Her human doll. But, that's not what Donna sees.
Angie sits on the workbench looking at Natalya in an almost jealous manner. Donna has been sitting for hours just gazing and nit picking at Natalya's clothes. With a blindfold over the woman's eyes and a sedative keeping her safely unconscious Donna has removed her veil to study Natalya without anything in her way. Admittedly her sight isn't very good. Years of wearing her veil has deteriorated her sight. If her arm is extended then her hands and everything beyond is gradually more blurry.
Even lying down Donna knows Natalya is much taller than herself. Her long dark hair is muddy and stained with blood and grime. Her features are almost greek and chiseled. Curiosity eats at Donna what color her eyes are but at the same time she's afraid her new guest will wake up and hate her like the others.
Her fatigues have been replaced by a hospital gown and bandages wrap almost her entire body.
Just being in the room with a stranger who's living and breathing is somewhat stressful. Donna isn't even sure they speak the same language. She wants the woman to wake up, but she's also so beautiful sleeping. When Natalya wakes up she'll be in agony. If she's awake, she can decide not to like Donna. That's one reason Donna loves her dolls. They follow the script in her head. Dolls cannot hate you, but people can. Dolls only speak to say what you want. People don't.
(( A/N: Sorry this is coming out so late, I had to fight my PC, Phone, Documents, etc every step of the way to upload the cover and then the internet went out. Tech hates me. But! Here it is! Enjoy.
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You're still here? Cool. If this gets more than 15 views in the first twenty-four hours I'll post chapter two tomorrow. Tell your friends, good luck! ))
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Her New Doll (Completed)
Fanfiction(( Updates Weekly on Mondays!)) (( +18 Chapters Will Be Marked)) The life of Donna Beneviento has been one of tragedy and fear. Even when gifted power she remained locked in a fantasy prison of her own making, spending her days creating and treasuri...