Chapter Three: Mother Miranda

                                    

                                          
After struggling for what feels like hours I finally succumb. I'm weak, spent, and soft. Darkness closes in closer and tighter until I feel as small as a mouse. The only part of my body I'm aware of is my skull. The tip of my jaw feels far away.
                          
	I thought time was relative before, but now a minute feels like eternity. I don't know how many eternities it is before light starts to filter back.
                          
	My eyes are under a thin white cloth and my arms are still stuck at my sides. Exactly what is wrapped around my legs I'm not sure but I don't want to think about it too hard.
                          
	Within the cottage there's more than just mother Miranda moving around. Someone of average size and an understandably concerning clicking noise. It gets closer and closer until something is sitting on the bed beside me.
                          
	"What is this?" A grating, high pitched voice asks.
                          
	Someone comes closer and the little clicking thing is removed from the bed, "It looks like it was a person at one point. A foreigner."
                          
	"It still is. My plans for her changed. She's helping me restore the Dimitrescu girls."
                          
	A hand touches my arm, "What then?"
                          
	"She has an impressive ability to heal. I was going to let Dimitrescu keep her until I have further use."
                          
	Gloved fingers brush my face, "So young. How old?"
                          
	"Old enough to attend university and come snooping around here. Don't get too attached," Miranda says, "She was becoming part beast before this, eating raw animals and scrounging for food. Wily little thing."
                          
	The woman's voice is soft. There's a longing I can sense even through such a small touch. How she lingers tells me she doesn't want to leave and I wish I could see her.
                          
	Unbidden my hands clench into tight fists.
                          
	"Still fighting as usual." 
                          
	Darkness presses in but this time I shove back. Though my arms are still my conscious claws and writhes. There is the slight sensation that my body might be mine to control again. I thrash harder and more violently until my back arches against the restraints and my teeth gnash through what's in my mouth.
                          
	"Damn girl."
                          
	Solid wood comes down on my head and I go limp. Darkness rushes like a tsunami and I'm not just pulled under this time. Sharp pain cuts through my flesh and soul. Blunt metal wrenches my bones apart. It's as though this thing, Miranda's power is trying to expose my soul by ripping my body apart but it's hard to tell when I cannot see or hear. All my senses are stuffed, smudged, and silenced.
                          
	Waking up I pray for the first time. I pray to any and all gods that this was all some fever dream. That this was all my overactive imagination fed by my knowledge of monsters and darkness.
                          
	The room is dark and musty. There's a cloying dusty sweetness about the room. Beneath that is a sickly sweet smell of old blood. Lanterns flicker on the wall, outlining the grandeur for my throbbing eyes.
                          
	Breath comes in through my nose and mouth, and chest. Reaching up my fingers find a buttoned sleep shirt. Still numb my fingers fumble and shake. Impatience gets the better of me and I tear the front open to expose my blackened, gnarled chest.
                          
	Mother Miranda did this to me. But what did she do?
                          
	Closing my hand takes a concerning amount of concentration and effort. That's just moving the blankets off of me so I can swing my legs out of bed. Both legs feel like they're boots full of lead. I've barely moved one when the door opens.
                          
	The woman who comes through the door has to bend halfway over. Her yellow eyes brighten seeing me and she strides over.
                          
	"Well well, you're awake."