Work Text:
"Welcome to the show…the dance of Beautiful Belladonna awaits you!” She steps onto the stage, besides her the intricately carved puppets are poised to follow her lead. She dances, her body swaying to the orchestra, her skirts twirling around her waist. Besides her are the click click of the puppets dancing in tune…She is focusing on the dance, the complicated mixture of twirls and delicate movements that usually had the crowds in awe. Her father’s words filter in her mind despite her dedication to concentration. ‘The Lord is watching…you must be excellent.’ She finishes with a flourish, and the crowd returns with applause. “Ladies and Gentlemen, my darling daughter!”
A blush on her cheeks, as she bows daintily. “Boo, she isn’t beautiful!” A screechy voice cried. Belladonna looks up in horror. The audience is entrenched in a dark shadow, but the mocking sneer burns into her. “Beautiful Belladonna, don’t make me laugh!”
“She looks like a puttana debole!!” Laughter comes at her hard, like little knives. Belladonna feels tremors through her, like ice. She turns to run, trips on a puppet, and falls into the threads, sharp, sharper than a blade, they cut into her skin. The crowd didn’t relent, their mocking laughter coming from all sides. “Ugly Belle!” A bottle smashes into the floor in front of her. Bella lets out a scream, the tremors get worse. She attempts to walk backwards into the darkness of the stage. Eyes on the maniacal looking shadows that shift in the darkness. Another bottle, but the wind carries it farther, it strikes her head, exploding into a shower of glass. The fragments shear her flesh, so many little shards. Her body tumbles into the puppets. The wires are sharp, as they cut into flesh. The laughter continues.
Eyes open and the shadows dissipate, she is staring at the wooden ceiling, weathered from age. She sits up, and refrains from touching her pulsating growth over her right eye. ‘Another nightmare,”
She arises from bed and goes through her morning routine. Behind her, Angie trails, letting out cackling screeches. “Ya know, I don’t get why said that brat said you can’t be Beautiful Belladonna. Look at me! I am dressed like the heroine from those Shakespeare novels, but the only play I should be in is one being held behind a dumpster!” Angie cackles with morbid glee. Donna releases a sigh, and focuses on fixing her hair. She is only 21, but feels the frown on her face and deep sadness etches dark lines on her face.
“You know…back then…it was just a tough crowd. And mental. I think your father took a wrong turn into an Asylum,” Cackling darkly, her mouth clicking loudly. Donna made herself breakfast, and moves to eat at the dining table. The omelet tastes good, and she savors the taste even as Angie is cackling as she pours over bad jokes.
A sudden heavy knock on the door, and Donna gets up to answer, wondering who could it be. ‘Maybe another foreigner who didn’t know better.’
“You have visitors…you have visitors...people haven’t forgotten you here like an ugly tree!” Another vicious cackle echoing in the home.
She opens the door, and finds Mirabella and another woman she recognizes, Malphas. Between them, they had tied a man together. “Mirabella, Malphas…What is this?” Donna asks shocked, staring at the foreigner. Then, a small smile lifts her lips, “Is he for me? Can I use him in my puppetry?”
Mirabella tosses him unceremoniously on the hard wood floor, a soft thud is heard. “Ohhhh” Angie laughs, “We have a new toy!”
“This is Nero, he is of Sparda’s kin,” Malphas sneers, her voice distorted and twisted. Donna shows confusion. “He has powerful demon blood,”
Bela laughs, reaching down to his prone figure, he picks up her sickle and slashes his hand. Blood drips from the wound, the scent has the women salivate at the thought of its rich iron taste. Malpahs and Bela more so since she understood the power it contained. Malphas licks her lips eagerly, watching the redhead suck off the demon hunters’ blood. Bela tosses her head back, her eyes dilated, “It tastes so delicious, this creature is so tasty,” fangs glistening in the light.
Angie laughs loudly, “What are you girls doing? Having a party…shall I set the table or do you perhaps want to eat off the floor,” Her entire body quivers, chortling in perverse glee.
Standing on the side, Malphas smirks, “Don’t drain the half breed…some of us want some to cut him open slowly”
Bela turns, flashing blood soaked teeth, eyes wild. Donna shifts uncomfortably, eyes shifting between the two women, a worried frown on her lips.
She suddenly chomps down on his finger, and rips it off. Donna barely flinches at her display of brutality, but is only mildly inconvenienced as blood drips on the carpet. Her mouth drops open as slowly his finger began to heal. “Look at this, isn’t he marvelous!” Bela laughs, a throaty rough sound. Donna hugs herself tighter, unsure what to do in this situation. A part of her wants to taste his blood, but another, worries how the blood would go with her morning tea. “We have to keep him tied up. He will be too powerful to manage if he awakens.”
Donna looks sideways at the woman, her face awash in a pale shine, framed by dark hair. Eyes glowing a purple blaze. Immediately a wave of fear through her body as Donna stares worrying between the demon, the vampire and their victim. “How dangerous is he?” Donna asks.
“Dangerous enough…” The smirk on Bela’s face is practically vicious like a predator. Suddenly, Donna imagines she is in the forest, surrounded by wild wolves howling as they chase deer between the barks of twisted trees.
They take him to her puppet studio, his feet scrapping the floor. Donna notices his clothes are odd, a bright blue, and a ratty red sweater. A torn scarf dangles from around his neck. Malphas pushes her recent doll onto the floor, which releases a harsh thud on impact. Donna flinches, feeling a drop of sadness for her doll.
They secure him to the table, Bela dragging heavy chains from the basement to circle his wrists, his feet and chest. The redhead giggles in delight, eyeing him like a lion does a weakened deer.
“What are you planning to do with him?” Donna asks, wishing she is strong enough to deal with the intrusion.
“Steal his power,” Malphas answered, her voice in a mild frenzy with barely contained glee and hunger.
“To go against Alcina and Queen Miranda to end their reign once and bloody well not have to put up with her demands! Sard!”
Donna jumps at the sudden harsh word, and then realizes Sard mean fuck in old Victorian. Bela probably came across that word somewhere.
“You can’t go against Lady Alcina…” Donna said softly, reaching upwards to tug at her hair, a nervous tick, “she is far too dangerous.” Before releasing a little hum. Malphas raises an eyebrow at the nervous woman, her mouth set in a frown of disapproval. Bela walks around the work bench to stare down hard at Donna.
“She attempted to kill you, and took a quarter of your land…and you don’t want revenge. You insipid woman!” She spits out, again that carnivorous fire in her eyes. Donna shivers, her fingers quickly twist strands of her hair into a knot. “She can’t be defeated, you and I both have been at the end of her claws.” Softly, Donna touches the rough skin of her forearm where there were once scars from her fight with Lady ALcina.
Malphas turns from one to another, eyes studying them with mild reproach. “Both of you are so weak to have been defeated by Lady Alcina, perhaps I should entrust this catch to her!” Malphas sneers. Donna notes that her face may be pretty, but the demonic entity sharpens beneath the surface to skewer her features into a vicious, twisted visage.
Bela digs her sickle into his flesh, blood spurts out from the wound. “Try to take him from me! I will feast on your demonic flesh like its cow meat!” She snarls, the sickle slashes across the air. Blood drips across the white porcelain floor. “Fight! Fight! Bitches should tear each other limb from limb to see who is the top bitch,” Angie screeches, dancing on her little limbs.
“Bela, you remember what happened…don’t you?” Donna asks quietly, reaching forward to pick up Angie, feeling glad for the comforting weight of her presence. “What did happen? Bela” Malphas asks, “How weak and pathetic were you against the Zeiţa vampire?”
Bela hisses at her, “Sard off, you demon Târfă!” Baring her teeth. Donna winces as the sharp curve blade strikes the table, and probably made a dent. The man shifts his head, eyes flickering but remains taken by sleep.
Donna notices how beautifully sculpted his features for, and soft and fine. She felt the need to touch his skin, and learn to carve his features on a puppet…but slowly removing his skin from his skull, and exploring the flesh underneath.
Malphas turns around the bench, bumping into Nero’s legs to stand in front of Bela, glaring her down. Donna clutches Angie tighter, staring fearfully between the demon and vampire.
“What happened?” The demon’s teeth clashes impatiently, and her fingers sharpening into claws. “It was because she hid a meal from them…tried to protect someone,” Donna said after a moment of hesitation, but the words tumble from her lips
Bela turns to glare at Donna, casting her a look of disapproval bordering on a threat, before forcing through gritting teeth, “His name was François, he was a musician…his plane crashed outside the village, and he came to the castle for…help.”
“You fought with Alcina over a human?” Malphas snarls, giving her a look of disgust. Bela looks mildly apologetic before she admits with a hint of restrained anger, “His voice…it was hypnotizing. I kept him in a closed off room while he played me songs in French. Until that bastard tried to escape.”
“I barely even fed on him,” Snarling angrily.
Malphas snickers, a scornful echo that reminds Mirabella of Lady Alcina and her sisters, it makes her insides twist rapidly like knots. “He was useful and we had plenty of other meat,” Mirabella scowls. Turning her back on the demon, she smacks the dangling doll limbs from the ceiling. “It was just his voice, it was unlike anything I have ever heard.” Briefly hugging himself, recalling the way his rich melody made every part of her quiver. “I just wanted to listen to it.” Screeching in anger, hating the way Malphas questioning reminds her of her Lady mother. The sneer on her blood red lips, her pale and defined features scrunched in anger. Somehow her red dress she chose to wear on the day, added to her entire angry demeanor.
“What happened then?”
“She killed him, ripped him apart in front of me.” Mirabella remembers his screams, echoing in the dank room, and normally she would relish it, but it just meant her turn was next. “Then she came upon me. Chased me around the castle before pummeling into the floor and tossing me into furniture. Alcina is not kind to those who violate her trust.”
Forcing a nonchalant smile on her face, she said, “If you find any dents around the floor boards on the left wing, it is just remnants of the tune Alcina played with my head against the wood,” Chuckles darkly.
Donna released a breath she was holding, “If Alcina reacts this way, what will she do if she finds out you are hiding the blood of Sparda to feast on his powerful blood.” Concern in her query.
“She won’t,” Bela said curtly, stoking Nero’s arm, her fingers testing the suppleness of his skin. Malphas watches her measuring gaze with a look that is shadowed by anger and hostility. Donna is once again reminded that the man is basically a piece of meat between two hungry Predators. But the more her soft dark eyes studies his beautiful features, and soft lips, she wants to taste him.
Angie lets out a soft cackle, before whispering in Donna’s ears, “You want to be a Prince to his sleeping beauty, maybe wait till the dragon and the witch are out of the room.” Donna shakes her head at Angie.
“With Donna helping us, we have a better chance,” Bela insists, recalling the pain as Alcina digs her claws into her body and throws her about the room. She attempted to fight, balling her fists and striking but the towering vampire Lady easily blocked her strikes, and smacks her hard until she smashes against the wall. Malphas didn’t appear entirely convinced. And Donna didn’t help assure her when she said, “The last time I went against Alcina, I failed…” She squeezes Angie for comfort, flinching as Malphas and Bela turn their violent gazes on her.
It was a few years after Donna was infected, and entered the cult. The other lords eyed her with quiet distrust, and Alcina openly mocking…that Goddess Miranda would allow such a weak creature to enter their most sacred court. Maybe that was why she demanded a third of Donna’s territory, a peach grove that Donna had loved for so long. She doesn’t know what came over her, maybe it was just exhaustion from being besieged by one tragedy after another, loneliness and despair, or maybe the realization that the promise of allies and a family, was just…a way to lure her into a den of monsters…just aggravated whatever insanity was lurking. She attacked first. Maybe the Cadou parasite attached to her eye socket, slowly eating at her scar to be a part of it, gave her a boost of confidence. She feels it, the infection spreading into her spinal column, every nerve stretching and fired up by electricity. Her bones expand, break out of her fleshy prison, her skull breaks forming the center of her fleshy flower. Karl later told her she resembled some odd flower that walked on all fours, and she spit acid. Her flower had some interesting spikes, which Karl later incorporated into a monster’s design. The redness of her body was blinding, a resemblance to the Venus flytrap.
Lady Alcina Dimitrescu morphed into her dragon form, a towering creature with wings and a vicious tail that ripped apart Donna’s bones, and forced her to choke on her own acid.
Six months…forced to remain secluded in her home to recover from her injuries while Alcina’ staff tended to her. Their whispers carrying in the hallways. “Poor thing…a wretched creature…must be cursed..the scar was given to her for her family’s transgression, didn’t you hear, her mother was stuck up as they come.”
When Lady Alcina came to visit, she presented a gift, a beautiful ornate box with intricate designs. Donna made the assumption that it was an apology of sorts. A gesture of peace…it was a gesture, she correctly assumed, just not the one she was thinking. Placed on the beautiful velvet was her bone shards and remnants of her Cadou gathered together. Alcina shattered her mutated form, breaking her spine, and tearing her flesh. Her sharpened teeth sliding off the flesh from her bones.
Recalling it brought her a fresh wave of panic and fear, and her mind tumbles with excuses to avoid their plan.
“Please,” the plea utters from her lips, “Don’t make me go against Alcina again.”
Bela gaze upon her is harsh and scaring, “I would love to give you a choice,” licking her lips, “But the plan is already in motion. Either be a willing participant or an obstacle…”
Sneering at her with sharpened fangs dripping in blood, she had already started making cuts on his clear skin and licking out the secretions with a sort of eagerness that causes Donna to shift in discomfort, a searing need through her. She usually enjoys her blood from a thick glass, not drained from a victim, unless it is in the basement, and for her dolls.
Malphas watches Bella’s machinations with growing anger, but keeps silent, her demonic power cackling between her fingertips. Nero is her victim, her source of her rage since he destroyed her demonic body. In his demonic form, his heavy foot crushed her back relentlessly, while his gun broke her into tiny molecules. Then, when she was revived, news hit her that her sacrifice was in vain, he defeated Urizen.
“I hate stupid man, but him,” Her fingers running across his skin, “He looks like a fight would be interesting.” Bella reaches forward, and allows her forked tongue to make a spittle trail up his cheek.
The same tongue that slithered out of her mouth, when Bella openly mocked her for being nearly disabled by the fight with Alcina.
“Enough,” Malphas glares, stepping forward, pushing her slightly from the comatose man. Nero growls under his breath, his body twitches, but his eyes remain closed. “You can’t keep savoring his blood without any thought! You walking parasite!”
The fury on Bella’s face is stormy red that seems to thunder, and it sends a wave of fear through Donna. ‘No,’ She thinks painfully, ‘My studio.’ Her stomach twists painfully at the thought of her studio being damaged. Bella attempts to intimidate, rushing towards Malphas, her claws digging into her shoulders. “I will rip out your tongue, you vile spewing hell bitch!”
The laughter pouring forth from Malphas’ throat is loud, harsh and mocking, “Your vile threats are nothing more than pus from a rotting wound.” Crash, Donna feels the ground shiver under her feet as the demon is pressed against the wall under the full force of the vampire. “Stop,” She whispers, desperation curling her words. Malphas presses her fingertips, pulsating with energy, and struck Mirabella in the chest. She momentarily dissipates into a cloud of flies, before materializing a few feet away. “You go to hell, impertinent parasite!” Snarls viciously, practically foaming in the mouth, the red corners bubbling. Donna immediately sensed that the situation could get worse, and Angie stepped in front of them. “Hey, you ugly monstrties, why don’t you fight elsewhere? We don’t want you breaking stuff here!” Her little hands shaking in the air with a degree of anger. Both the monsters turn on her, as if raring to strike. The tension in the air thickens, filled with simmering rage. Donna understood the need to act fast, she steps forward between the two warring monsters. Taking a deep breath, she thinks about tapping into her parasite. And her throat vibrates before emitting a high pitched scream. Malphas covers her ears, and Bella dissipates into flies. Raising her hands, Donna breaks her fingers, allowing the bone to protrude. She watches as their looks of anger and confusion as the bones elongate before dissipating into a cloud of smog. She focuses on images, creating stories out of their deepest thoughts. Malphas eyes widen, the voice of Urizen beckons from the other room. “Your Highness,” She croaks, an uncharacteristic note of desperation in her words as she summons a spark of purple between her fingers and slips into it. Bela shifts backwards, glowering at the dark smog, struggling to discern anything. “Donna,” She screeches, clawing at the air, “How could you do this? You Târfă Lelele!”
“My darling,” Bela freezes, “Mo-ther. I wasn’t planning to-I wasn’t doing-“
“Come to me daughter.” The voice whispers, far sweeter than anything she had ever heard from the old bat’s lips. Unable to help herself, Bela exits the room in a mild daze.
The fog clears, Donna stands alone with the incapacitated soon-to-be-victim. She hated using her powers, looking downwards sadly at her broken fingers, but there isn’t an alternative. They are about to come to blows. Briefly she is troubled by the taut of Lelele, referencing her powers to enthrall people and feast on their blood. It would take some time for her fingers to heal, which she could use to study her captive.
Nero has beautiful porcelain skin across sharp features. Donna leans over, her snake-like tongue slides across cheek, savoring his burning warmth. Knuckles brush against beautiful silvery straight hair. “He’s coming!” Angie shrieks, laughing maniacally. Donna closes her eyes, a frown tightening on his lips. The pitter patter starts, four sharp needles against the wood. Donna shuts her eyes, fear seeping into her bones. “Why did you come here?” Her parasite pulses in her eye socket like the quick hum of a heartbeat. “I heard a commotion..” His voice is honeyed with the barest undercurrent of maliciousness, “curiosity brought me down here!" Donna inhales a deep breath, watching the newcomer warily. The figure is a small dark haired doll dressed in fancy garb. His blue beady eyes study her with gleaming menace. The Cadou throbs inside the doll, its thick wings beating the air, and four spidery legs protruding from the body tapping the table. “Il Moroso, why so sad? You should be delighted at the acquisition of a new…body” She can imagine the toothy grin widening to something twisted.
“Zburator,” She tries to sound strong, authoritative, but it comes out as meek.
. The laughter attacks her in full force, painful, mocking. “My lovely dandelion, you wound me." “Just as you did years ago...” A flippancy in his remark that annoyed her.
He hops onto the table, and lets one of his spiderly legs carve invisible lines on his chest, “will you attempt to hurt him as you did me? Carve out his heart and brain, toss it in a blender and make a Cadou stew?” Another vapid cackle that sends fresh ice down her veins.
She shuts her eyes, an image flashes in her mind of their first meeting, “Hello Dear Lady, my name is Eliseo, my uncle works as your gardener. I will be lending him my help for the summer.” Rich beautiful eyes, lovely curly hair, and a gorgeous smile that brought the stars from the heavens.
“I am not sure what to do with him? Or what is to be done,” Donna says softly, letting her wrist brush his cheek, somehow feeling it as a more intimate gesture. The veins under her skin pulsate against the softness of his skin. Dipping down to place against his neck.
Eliseo chortles darkly, “Already starting, do you require a little dream dust for your sweet fantasies?” Rubbing his fingers together in a sprinkling gesture.
Leaning forward, she inclines her head, and brushes her lips against him, softly first, before pressing her mouth against his. Donna feels all her nightmares melt away, and the only sweetness is the richness of his lips. Her heart pounds in her chest, her wrist brushes his cheek. She could only focus on how tantalizing he felt against her mouth, his demonic power. It could fast be addictive…like the way Eliseo was when she first met him.
The hunger increases in her, an urgency, and she submitted to the calling as tingles swept up and down her whole body.
Nero's eyes flicker open, staring into the sweet expression of Kyrie. "Kyrie," He murmurs, voice filled with affection. Eliseo the Zburator releases a dark cackling. Donna lets her tongue gently stroke his lips, savoring the warmth of another human. Her fingers trace the angle of his chin, tapping against his neck before brushing through his hair. His kisses getting hotter, sweeter, tongue seeking out the cavern of her mouth. Donna sighs, her heart thundering in her chest. Fingers dig into his soft flesh.
Eliseo watches the scene in morbid glee, his wooden mouth chattering, releasing small yellow clouds of hallucinogenic drug.
It happens suddenly, Donna is once again visited by an old memory that sends tendrils of wanton heat through her. She is on top of him, Eliseo, the gardener's nephew, his manhood encased in her soft walls. Breath harsh and heavy as a wave of sexual stimulation rippled through her body.
Spurred by the flurry of emotions, Donna lifts her long skirts and mounts him, pressing herself harsher against his body. The new angle allows her to rub against the jean, relishing in the friction. A weak cry from Nero as he desperately seeks out her warmth. Filled with fresh desire, she reignited the kissing, her dry lips pour her deep needy emotions into the friction between their lips. Nero is falling into the dreams of his sweet girlfriend, Kyrie, her smiling face and comforting embrace providing the solace he so desperately needed. Eliseo flutters in the air on his wings, sending a breeze through the two. Suddenly, the door opens, Bela yells, "Have you gone mad?"
Donna ignores her, drowning in the sensations invoked from having the man's lips ferociously ravages her mouth. This forces the young woman to release throaty moans of excitement. Nero grunts into the kiss, trying to make her feel dirty in all sorts of ways. Bela rushes forward, and drags Donna from him, flinging her body onto the floor.
"You can't just mount our prey!"
Donna forces herself to shed the fog of the hallucination, perceiving the angry face of the vampire monster. “Did she feed on him?” Malphas asks, frowning darkly, a purple aura surrounding her. Donna tastes her lips, tasting a coppery edge. “Feeding on our prey?” Bela shakes a finger at her, “I am disappointed in you Donna. I thought you had self-control.” Angie throws herself at Bela again, angrily, ‘You can shut up, you bug bitch!”
Bela gives her a look of disgust, and gets ready to kick her. When she froze on hearing a groan being emitted from their captive. “Wh-at? Where am I?” Nero cranes her neck, eyes slowly clearing their cloudy haze to be absolutely vibrant and intense in rage. “What the fuck? Who the hell are you?” He yanks at his restraints, anger tightening his face. Briefly, Donna mourns the handsome, and quiet young lover.
“Let me go! You’re gonna let me go! Now!”
Malphas shakes her head, gritting her teeth, before she comes to tower over Nero as he thrashed widely. “You are our captive,” Eyes riddled with malice, “and ours for feeding.” She expected to find fear, some kind of desperation that humans are known for, rather a slow smirk spreads on his lips, and it is almost mocking, and rich in arrogance that only the high demons are known for, and now the blood of Sparda. “You want to play, little chicken? Fine, I will attend your delightful demon dinner.” Malphas frowns, anger welling up inside her that he refused to cow down before her. But no matter, with her allies, she would bring the kin of Sparda down to his knees, and use his blood to rise to the throne of hell.