Chapter Text
If there was one thing that was well known within the remote Romanian Village, it was this: Pray you are never summoned to Castle Dimitrescu. Those that are summoned, never come back out. Everybody in the village referred to the castle as Hell’s waiting room.
Whenever the 20th of October would arise, summons were issued among the village to many poor women, and they were to arrive at the castle before nightfall with very little belongings and the uniform provided by the deliverer of the message. They were summoned to be the new staff of the castle, but only a few were selected, and it was definitely less than what was needed to take care of the massive castle that overlooked the entire village.
Attractive, feminine beauties that carried themselves with grace and dignity were common to be selected, which is why she was certain she would never see her name on a summons. But what she didn’t know was that one fateful day in the late heat of the September sun would seal her fate.
Her morning consisted of the same thing; rise before the sun when the rooster crows, tend to the many livestock of the family farm, manage the upkeep around the land, make her way into town to sell the many goods that was produced on the farm, and come home before the early afternoon. By the time she returned, she had just enough time to sneak off into the woods with her weapons in hand for her self-taught practice.
Following the path, she had made by the X’s carved into tree trunks, a longsword was strapped to her hip and a quiver was wrapped over her chest. It was a good mile from her family farm, far away from her mother’s disapproving eyes and the looks of the townspeople. The tall trees surrounded a small enclave that she had dedicated to her training.
The trees were tall enough to obscure the surrounding area, but far enough apart to let the sun cast down onto the enclave she had made her own. Many tree trunks had been painted red and white with targets, and a large wooden totem served as a practice dummy for her sword techniques. Many scars were carved into the wood from her sharp steel blade that struggled passing through the trunk but could easily slice through flesh.
Her granddad had taught her everything he knew. Many years before her birth, he was a known hero among the townspeople. With his sword and bow, he fought off a whole pack of beasts that threatened the village and was named the village guardian. He fought off wild monsters and vile creatures that would wander too far too close to the village.
When she had been born, he and the rest of the family had expected a boy. But her sex would not deter him from teaching her all that he knew so she could one day take his place, much to her mother’s dismay. She had told him many times that she was going to grow into a proper young lady, gentle and graceful like those who were summoned to the castle.
After her granddad’s passing, she had hidden his weapons away from her mother’s disapproving eyes and swore over his grave that she would arise to take his place as the village guardian. She trained every day, practiced until the sun would begin to set, injured herself many times within the process, as evidence from the small separation in the cartilage of her right ear.
Over the years, she had found other ways to keep herself physically fit and active. And over the span of nine years, at the age of twenty-four, she had built up more muscle and strength than any other woman had in their village before. Her arms rippled with strength and her stomach was toned with muscles that would make men in the village jealous.
Her body was as solid as stone, and her determination to get better was beyond unbreakable. She snuck off every day, never getting caught by her mother in the entire nine years she did so. Maybe her mother knew and just chose not to say anything? That seemed silly; her mother was never one to shy away from giving her a censorious scolding.
It was because of the state of her body that she was convinced she would never receive a summons to the castle. She was more than certain of that. But what she hadn’t realized, was that in an attempt to avoid that fate had only sealed it.
It was the 29th of September. The sun was high in the sky, beating down on her tanned skin that was marred with many scars along her burly body. Her sword was in a tight grip as she walked back and forth in place, the tall totem staring down on her like it was her life-long enemy. With expert precision, the tall woman spun the blade in her grasp, the metal quicky swishing passed her face and ruffling her dark auburn curls caught in the breeze.
As soon as her back was to the totem, she kept her body still and held the sword in a resting motion, waiting for many tense seconds… And then, she strikes. Her body turned quickly on the blunt heel of her boot and the sword lifted from where it once rested, slicing through the air with a loud shout and burying itself into the soft wood of the totem standing in front of her.
The blade buried into the spruce trunk, catching itself halfway through due to lack of momentum and the relative dullness of her blade that she hadn’t sharpened in weeks. An oversight on her behalf; she would normally use the same rotating stone that was used to sharpen the axe in the shed to sharpen her sword. Was that reckless? Yes. Effective? also yes.
A shout of frustration resonated from her chest as she pushed her foot into the spruce and yanked backwards, releasing the blade from where it was originally buried and looking down at the metal. It was dented, slightly bent, and not fit for a battle against monsters. Her granddad would have made a new one, but he didn’t teach her that before his passing.
She sighed a little and spun the blade again in her hands, flicking it back and forth in a cross pattern in front of her, the sword inches from snagging on either her clothing or her skin but never reaching her to cause harm. Years of handling and practice has made her excellent with her control.
Just as she was readying herself to attack once again, her attention was immediately drawn to the rustling of leaves beyond the amber trees to her south side. Even wind didn’t make those sorts of sounds, and the familiar snap of a twig being stepped on was unmistakable. Something was behind her.
Attempting to play off the knowledge she held as feeble ignorance, she pushed the blade of her sword into the ground and stretched out her muscles, rolling her broad shoulders and tilting her neck back and forth until it cracked on both sides. The rustles grew closer, and it was followed by a low growling sound that had the hairs on the back of her neck rising. Maybe it was a wolf? In all her years, she’s never seen another soul in the woods near her enclave.
Wolves don’t traverse this far into the forest… She slowly stepped forward, picking up the bow resting against a large stone that she would normally sit on to catch her breath. She held the bow in her grasp and removed an arrow from the quiver, slowly spinning it between her fingers and nocking it against the bowstring. The rustling grew closer.
Just a bit nearer…
The snap of one twig signaled the closeness of the animal and she spun around just in time to see a mess of fur and bloody teeth lunging for her out of the trees, the creature letting out a loud roar as it went for her claws first. She lifted the bow and pulled back on the string at almost inhuman speed, the arrow cutting straight through the air in front of her and burying into the creature’s shoulder. That did not stop its movement and it pounced directly on top of her.
Now that it was close, she got a good look at the creature. This was no wolf.
It had the marred face of a human, but eyes were clouded and glossed over like fogged windows. Its skin was textured like mold, rough and coarse, fur in random places over its cold and grey flesh, and it had what she could only call talons instead of regular fingernails on its hands. The sharp surfaces slashed at her in any way it could, catching on the fabric of her shirt and ripping four puncture lines down her thigh, cutting deep into her skin, and making her howl with pain.
The creature growled and snapped its jaws at her, blood surrounding its jagged sharp teeth and coating over its lips. Her brows pulled down as she lifted her feet up and carefully tucked them under the creature’s body and slammed them directly into its abdomen, sending the monster flying off of her and in turn, having those claws rake across her chest, ripping the fabric of her shirt and wrappings clean off her body.
The woman was quick to stand up out of the dirt and look down at the remains of her tattered long-sleeved shirt, huffing in frustration and pulling it off the rest of the way and standing in her bindings. Gashes were visible on her chest from the monster’s claws. Now that she saw it unobscured and, in the light, she knew what it was. Her granddad told stories about the monstrous men lurking in the shadows deep in the mountains. They usually stuck to the nearby factory at the mountain’s edge, where they answered to Lord Heisenberg… So, one of his dogs was off leash, it seems.
“You should have stayed with your master,” She taunted, reaching out and removing her sword from where it was buried into the dirt. The creature snarled at her threat, and she spun the blade in her hand. “He can’t save you now.”
She was all that stood between this monster following the path she created back towards the village. Now was her chance to test herself; she was worthy to carry the title of village guardian. She would protect her home with her life.
The creature reached up with its bloody hand, wrapping around the base of the arrow she buried into its shoulder and ripping it free from the muscle, not even flinching as it tossed the remains of the arrow to the ground and slowly crouched in front of her. Her deep cerulean blue eyes narrowed at the monster, waiting for it to pounce on her at any second. The creature was smart, but not smart enough. She could see the slight change in its demeanor right before pouncing. The muscles on their legs flexed and they pulled back both of its hands before leaping towards her.
Without a second thought, she lifted the blade up and went tip first into the air, the sharp point of the blade immediately burying into the creature’s stomach and stopping the momentum of the monster mid-air and slamming it directly into the forest floor with a loud shout of anger. The creature thrashed around as the sword went directly through its body and snagged into the dirt underneath its back.
Unfortunately, the creature twisted in a certain manner and the blade could no longer handle the stress it had been put under for the past nine years… It snapped right below the handle, and she looked at the remains of the sword held in her hand and a broken expression behind her eyes. Her granddad’s sword… destroyed. Inside of this horrendous beast. She saw red.
“You fucking animal,” She spat with rage, standing up and lifting her boot off the ground. Without mercy, she slammed her foot down, heel digging into the creature’s skull and twisting its head to the right. She heard a sickening CRACK and the beast’s movements halted under her heel, hearing the monster let out one last choked breath before falling silent.
“Come collect your dog, Lord Heisenberg… For they are not welcome within my home,” She said to nobody specifically as she held the grip of the blade in her veined grasp before chucking it into the woods. It held nothing of value to her, or to anybody… Her granddad would be proud of her.
Very slowly, she hobbled over to the massive stone and dropped down onto the surface, looking down and seeing the violent gashes under the shredded remains of her trousers and seeing her wrappings stained with her own blood. How would she hide this from her mother? This was not good… And she had much to do tomorrow.
Her moment of reprieve was soon cut short when she heard the sound of rustling once again behind her and at this moment, she was out of patience. She picked up her bow off the ground and quickly shot an arrow over her shoulder at whatever could be lurking in the shadows and was ready to fight once again but… The arrow pierced the tree trunk and all she could see was a small cluster of what appeared to be flies? Odd…
“I’m never wrong…” She muttered under her breath at seeing nothing but thin air between herself and the arrow. It was true; she was never wrong. And she had still yet to be wrong.