Someone was in excruciating pain. Their screams met Irina's ears the moment she came to; it impacted her tremendously. So much so that she lay frozen in fear on an old feather-stuffed bed, listening to them. She was aware that she was locked in a damp and icy dungeon beneath the village, and that no one knew she was alive. But why? She didn't understand the extent of the situation. What did Miranda want with her? Irina was no more than a human; an unfortunate woman who made the mistake of daring to hope for a better life. She wasn't at all special, not like Miranda or her motley crew of monsters. No, she had no advantage in this dreary little village. So perhaps her fate from the start was set in stone; she was meant to be a test subject; one of those hair-covered Lycans with a taste for tearing apart everything it came into contact with, like her roommate, the poor being screaming its voice out.
I'm going to die here.
Warm tears stung her eyes. Irina tried to ignore the thoughts in her head; the static in her ears, and go back to sleep, but her effort was unsuccessful. She had enough. Covering her ears, she let out a horrified scream. Her heart pounded in her chest as a surge of adrenaline coursed through her.
Irina felt better, but her situation was still the same; bleak and hopeless. At least it was quiet now. She sat for what felt like hours in a sad heap on the bed before she heard a noise; the soft patter of footsteps outside her cell.
"At last, she awakens," someone hummed.
Irina recognized the voice. She watched with a heated look as Miranda stood in front of the barred door. The lamp behind the said woman cast an eerie shadow over Irina. It was almost biblical, if not for the fact Miranda was anything but a prophet – a bitch most of all.
"Kill me already," Irina uttered.
She was tired of trying.
Miranda hummed.
"Perhaps, but not just yet."
She unbolted the door, much to Irina's surprise, and motioned for her to come out. Irina was hesitant, but stood and walked out of the cell. She was curious about what the goddess wanted from her. As she neared one of the tables, Miranda took a scalpel and cut her. Irina hissed in pain, recoiling away from her.
"Give me your arm," Miranda ordered.
Irina offered it to her and watched as she took a sample, dropping her blood onto a slide beneath the lens of a microscope. As Miranda checked the sample, Irina looked around the room for a second time. She didn't see the second cell or the person she heard screaming as she woke, but she knew someone was there. Or had she imagined it?
"How unfortunate for you," Miranda said with a hum.
Irina eased a brow in question.
"It seems that you have become infected," she uttered.
Infected by what? Irina was confused.
"Don't look too baffled, child. You had sex with Heisenberg, did you not?" She asked.
Irina's face heated up. How did she know?
"I reckon there's no reason to lie about it," she answered back.
"The Cadou I engineered were exposed to the Mold, then implanted into live subjects; the Lords were the only ones to survive, and you had sexual relations with one of them. In terms, you have the Mold in you now," Miranda explained.
What in the hell does that mean?
"What does that mean for me?" Irina asked.
Was she going to die?
