Chapter Two: Two Feet in the Grave

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Pain. The worst pain Natalya has ever been faced with. Groaning and wincing she sits up, but something is off. Her hands reach for her face and sharp string snaps tight, restricting her from moving an inch in any direction. All but her head.

"What the hell?"

Floorboards creak and Donna gasps softly. Angie is clutched in one hand. In the other are several note cards. Both hands shake and twitch. She tries to think of how Alcina always carries herself with such confidence and grace but that's little consolation now.

"Who's there?"

Donna swallows thickly. Her mouth is so dry it's hard to speak, "What is your name?"

"I can't hear you through the blindfold. Take it off-"

"What's your name!" Angie snaps.

For a moment Natalya is quiet. She frowns and winces, slowly laying back against the strings which begin to let her lay back slowly, "My friends call me Natalya. Who are you? Why can't I feel my legs? Where am I?"

This time Donna speaks louder, legs wobbling, "If I let you go, do you promise not to hurt me?"

"Of course. I'm a soldier, I fight to protect people."

"If I let you go, do you promise not to hate me?"

Natalya frowns, "I couldn't hear you again."

"Do you promise not to hate her!" Angie shouts.

Everything about this is off. Natalya frowns and sighs, "Ma'am, please take the blindfold off-"

After tugging at the bottom of her veil Donna walks over. Her knees threaten to buckle at every step. Donna pulls the blindfold down with shaking fingers. As soon as it's gone Natalya's wild green eyes scan the room. Before she can settle on Donna she sees herself instead.

The only limb not amputated at the bend is her right hand. If there is a silver lining it is her dominant hand. But otherwise, there is little good to come out of this.

"Oh my god."

Both leg stumps lift and settle as Natalya remains frozen in horror. Donna slowly backs away, note cards falling out of her hands.

"Wait!"

All it takes is one loud shout for Donna to panic. She first vanishes from Natalya's field of view before running deeper into the house and finding the phone. Her hands shake too violently to pick up the receiver. It tumbles to the floor as Angie dials.

"Hello-"

"Mother Miranda, help."

In the workshop Natalya struggles against the strings but it's useless. Her head is spinning from a combination of blood loss and her overall rapid decline of health in the past few days. The more she struggles the tighter the strings become.

"Stop struggling! Your stitches are fragile!"

"Stitches?" Natalya asks.

Remembering exactly what happened before she succumbed to darkness is difficult. But Natalya does recall the slashing she took from the giant feral woman. That is probably the cause of the stitches. Not to mention her amputations.

"Hey!" Natalya shouts, "Hey come back!"

Unfortunately years of military service have given her voice a perpetually annoyed or angry tone. That same tone has Donna hiding deep in the bowels of the house with Angie, curled into a ball, rocking back and forth waiting for mother Miranda.

Once she gives up shouting Natalya begins trying to piece together the utter psychedelic shit show her life has become. Her first thought is perhaps this is hell, but after racking her brain she remembers the house by the waterfall. That explains the dull background roar. This is house Beneviento. Which makes the woman in black most likely the last surviving Beneviento.

The least intel was gathered about the mansion. Everyone who went there hallucinated, panicked, and the lucky ones got back out with their lives. The Dimitrescu mansion was easier to decipher and the lake was all but ignored. It was the factory that they were most concerned about.

Noticing the cards on the floor Natalya tilts her head to read them better. They're questions, neatly laid out with answers.

It reminds Natalya of advice about interviews or other times someone might be nervous about speaking. Planning in advance what you'll say is a good method. But filling in what the other person says back is, peculiar.

Somewhere a door opens and feet come in.

"Donna!"

Floorboards creak and soft footsteps run to meet those that approach. The woman in the veil with the doll returns along with a woman with wings and a metal veil.

Natalya freezes.

"Oh, so you recognize me," Miranda strides in, "I'll make this short, I did not sleep well and my patience is spent being called in the small hours of the morning. When you were found frostbite had set in. Your right hand was only saved because it was inside your abdomen holding your organs from falling out of you. It would seem you had a run in with my oldest adopted daughter. You now belong to my youngest daughter, also adopted, lovely Donna here."

Donna stands frozen with her shoulders rolled in using Angie like a shield.

With a heavy sigh Miranda glares, "Why am I here Donna?"

"How are we supposed to move her?" Angie snaps.

"You're not. Not for another week I told you. Idiot that I am, I told you how to wake her up. When she can get up I suggest you give her only one leg and a crutch so she can't get away from you."

Still in shock Natalya has nothing to say. When Miranda turns on her again she knows better than to speak.

"I suggest you shut up and play nice. You're lucky to be alive and have earned my grace once. It won't happen again."

Seemingly the whole house shakes and in an explosion of feathers Miranda is gone. Donna stands holding her breath. The two sit and stand respectively staring at one another.

(( A/N: Yay we reached our goal and I get to post another chapter! Let's turn this into a snowball effect, 30 views on this chapter in the next twenty-four hours and I'll post Chp. 3.

Also, yes I know the cover is messed up. Yes, I'm going to fix it... Eventually. ))

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