Resident Evil Oneshots

Teach me

Each step I took echoed softly in the vast emptiness, as though the castle itself was whispering secrets I was never meant to hear. The air was cold, thick with a weight that pressed upon my chest, a constant reminder of the intimidating presence of this ancient place. Yet, amidst the silence, something else began to drift through the air—something warm, something inviting.

It was faint at first, barely audible over the soft rustle of my movements, but as I continued walking, the sound grew clearer. A melody, haunting yet beautiful, filled the halls, pulling me towards it like a siren's call. The delicate notes of a piano, played with such grace and precision, floated through the corridors, wrapping around me like a spell. I couldn't help but follow, my curiosity piqued and my heart beating just a little faster with each step.

The sound guided me to a partially open door at the far end of the hall, and I hesitated for a moment before gently pushing it open. The room beyond was bathed in soft shadows, illuminated only by the pale light of the moon streaming in through tall, arched windows. In the centre of the room stood a grand piano, its polished surface gleaming faintly in the dim light. Seated before it, her back to me, was Lady Bela.

Her slender fingers moved effortlessly over the ivory keys, each movement fluid and precise, as though the piano were an extension of her. The music that flowed from the instrument was enchanting—melancholic, yet full of passion. I could see the way she was lost in the melody, her posture relaxed, her head slightly bowed as if the music itself had carried her away to a place far from here. There was something captivating about the scene, something that made it impossible to tear my eyes away.

I lingered at the doorway, my breath catching in my throat as I watched her. I felt a strange mix of emotions—admiration, awe, and a hint of shyness. I wasn't sure if I should step inside or remain where I stood, a silent spectator to this intimate moment. I had never seen Lady Bela like this before. In our past interactions, she had always been composed, strong, and sometimes a little cold. But here, in this moment, she was something else entirely. vulnerable, almost, though not in a way that suggested weakness. Rather, she seemed more human, more real. It was as though the music had stripped away the layers of formality, revealing a side of her that was rarely, if ever, seen.

The longer I stood there, the more I felt a growing sense of admiration, not just for her skill at the piano, but for the way she seemed to lose herself in the music. I had never realized how graceful she truly was until now. Every movement, every note she played, was filled with a quiet intensity that made my heart flutter in my chest. I swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how small I felt in comparison to the beauty of the scene before me.

I wanted to step inside, to approach her, to tell her how beautiful her music was, but I hesitated. What if I disturbed her? What if she preferred to remain alone in this moment? My shyness held me back, keeping me rooted to the spot as I wrestled with the desire to make my presence known and the fear of intruding on something so personal.

As the final note of the melody faded into the air, I hesitated for a moment before bringing my hands together in a soft, tentative applause. The sound seemed louder than I intended in the otherwise still room, and it startled Lady Bela. Her fingers froze above the keys, and she quickly turned toward me, her eyes wide with surprise, her trance-like focus shattered. For a brief moment, neither of us spoke, the silence between us filled with the echoes of the piano and the slight tension of the unexpected interruption.

Bela blinked, her usual composed expression faltering just enough to reveal a flicker of something else—uncertainty, perhaps? Her cheeks, always so pale and cool, flushed with a faint pink, a rare sight that made my own heart skip a beat. It was almost endearing, seeing her caught off guard like this. I shifted nervously, feeling the sudden weight of my presence in the room, but I managed to find my voice.