Your Existence | Lady Dimitrescu x Daughter

A sweet return

⚠️ TW: death, blood, sadism, and horror.

As I followed Bela down the corridor, it seemed as though she wasn't walking but rather floating slightly above the floor, making her presence even more imposing than it already was. I swallowed hard, still struggling to get used to her form, tangible one moment and then dissolving into a swarm of flies. What exactly was she? My companions whispered behind her back, calling her a psychopath. Although I had watched in horror as she reveled in the torment of others, she had never shown me such madness.

The echo of a previous conversation with Lady Dimitrescu resonated in my mind, exacerbating the silence that now wrapped around me with growing unease.

"Bela," I called out in a trembling voice.

She stopped, turning with spectral elegance, her face lit by a macabre smile.

"Yes, Elena?" Her voice was a chilling whisper.

"Who's visiting us?"

Bela's smile grew wider, revealing the pale gleam of her teeth in the dim light.

"Aunt Donna is coming with Angie," said Bela in a soft tone, but with a subtle undercurrent of menace. "There's no need for alarm, Elena. Donna will love designing dresses for you; she may even get carried away, as if you were a new addition to her doll collection. Just a word of advice: don't let her play with your hair, or she'll turn it into an endless sea of curls."

I frowned slightly, the name "Donna" echoing in my mind. Was she normal, or like them?

"Who's Donna?" I asked, with a mix of curiosity and caution. My eyes narrowed a bit as I watched Bela's expression, searching for some clue as to whether I should be excited or worried. "And... is Angie friendly?"

Bela smiled, a smile that didn't reach her cold, calculating eyes. She leaned in slightly toward me, lowering her voice to a confidential whisper that contrasted with the dark echo of the corridor.

"Donna is like a sister to Mother. She's an artist, dear, one of those who sees the world in a... different way. She has a special gift for seeing beauty where others don't, and Angie, her little companion, is just as peculiar as she is." Bela straightened up, her face regaining its aristocratic composure. "Don't worry, Angie can be a little mischievous, but she's harmless. Just... play along, and everything will be fine."

Bela slipped through the corridor, leaving the dorms behind, and a sense of dread began to take hold of me. The idea of stepping into another torture chamber terrified me. However, when she stopped before a closed door and opened it, the scene revealed was unexpectedly different. The room was filled with strategically placed mannequins, a large mirror dominated the space, surrounded by various sewing tools and several elegant hats belonging to Lady Dimitrescu. In front of the mirror stood a sturdy bench, inviting someone to sit.

A scream echoed, freezing my blood, and I clung to the wall, staring at the door in terror, afraid to discover what had caused it. Then, Bela's laughter filled the air.

"Unfortunately, I wasn't around to see Mother, although I imagine that was a relief for you," said Bela, her voice tinged with a mocking tone as she looked at me intently.

"What?" My voice trembled as I asked. "Who screamed?"

"Oh, it must be the new maids; they tend to be excessively noisy. Cassandra will find a particular delight in them," she said, her words accompanied by a peculiar gleam in her eyes, revealing a mix of cruelty and amusement.

"Cassandra," I repeated her name.

"Yes, our dear sister, the second-born, just after me."

The echoes of high heels rang out along the hallway, and I froze, anticipating the imminent appearance of Lady Dimitrescu. Every echoing step was accompanied by softer, less audible ones. With her imposing stature, she emerged through the doorway, bending slightly as she entered, a gesture that always made me want to laugh absurdly.