Chapter Text
Her eyes - thoughtful and deep brown in hue - stared above at Bran Castle. They swept over russet roofs, faded stone walls, and windows dotted along the width of the keep.
The mythology behind Transylvania funded its economy, that much Yennefer knew. The museums and festivals and tourist shops boasted everything vampiric, from painted cups to vials filled with 'the blood of a Saint.' It was embarrassing, really. So desperate were the townspeople that they had to go out of their way to pretend vampires existed and Dracula was ready to spring out of the forest with his fangs bared. They even traipsed in and out of Bran and Brasov in waves, selling their wares to any tourist that fell for the mysticism of it all.
No, Yennefer wasn't here for the childish tales.
She was here for the architecture.
The styles painting Romania's landscape were gorgeous and well-kept and alive. Baroque, Gothic, Romanesque - the list went on. Having traveled little beyond her home in Wolverhampton, England, Yennefer took the first opportunity to leave the UK behind after she had graduated with her degree in architecture. And her first job? Restoring villas and castles in Transylvania, Romania. Who could brag about their first job being as extraordinary as that? Hard work had gotten her the credentials, sure, but it was her passion that solidified the deal.
Not to mention her beauty. Her employers took a fancy to that.
It was something Yennefer still found herself growing accustomed to. Before graduation, she had suffered from a moderate (to severe) form of scoliosis. Her spine had started to drastically curve, and the doctors rushed to brace it. But the brace hadn't worked and major surgery was to be had. Yennefer waited until she was done with university to have it, and then the recovery took months. At 23 now, with a spine as straight as her ambitions, she was ready to face the world. But the world was vast, and the people were...
"You done staring? C'mon, we paid 30 bucks for this tour and you keep falling behind," Kalis teased, thrusting Yennefer from her thoughts and pulling her back into reality. The blonde American propped a hand on her hip and raised a plucked brow.
Kalis Maier was Yennefer's newest roommate. The girl was barely nineteen but in the short time Yen had gotten to know her, it was clear Kalis liked to pretend otherwise. A lot of risky clothing, a lot of makeup, but also a lot of tantrums when she didn't get her way. When Kalis told her that her dad was a rich CEO back in New York, the raven-haired woman hadn't doubted her story for a second. But when Kalis went on to explain that her dad's parents emigrated from Romania as poor sheep farmers years previous, Yennefer started to.
"Sorry," she replied with a brief smile in the blonde's direction. "I got distracted again."
"Lemme guess. The architecture? Y'know we're going on that Bran tour on Friday. Can't you just stare at it then?"
"Mm," Yennefer hummed in reply. Her gaze slanted towards the path leading into Bran Castle's estate, "How many people do you think sneak in there every year?"
Kalis glanced back at the grand structure, green eyes lit mischievously. "Why? You wanna sneak in? See if ole Drac's got big dick energy?"
The dark-haired woman rolled her eyes, though an entertained smile stuck to her face. "You know - you're starting to prove the American stereotype correct." The harmless insult was received with mock offense on Kalis's end: a hand over her heart and an audible gasp. "I'm sure you've heard worse." This earned her a smirk, instead.
They continued on the tour, traveling from one end of the town to the next. Of course, it was fitting Yennefer's interest remained on the buildings, but Kalis seemed to like the shopping experience. Another thing Yennefer chalked off to a stereotype gone right. Back home, Yen wasn't much of a shopper - certainly not in clothes. Her body having been as mangled as it was, anytime she went into a store to get something nice to wear had ended in panic attacks and days of resenting her body.
Her family hadn't made the fact easier on her, either. Her stepfather was a drunk with a nasty quip for everything (as well as a firm hand), and her mother was a spineless woman with too many kids to focus on. Focusing on Yennefer and her troubles had become too much of a burden after her birth father had passed away, and the two adults had pushed her out of the house as soon as she was of age. Luckily, the neglect and abuse had left her in better shape to be independent. Something Kalis hadn't experienced, considering how often she called daddy dearest for more spending money. Beyond just her rent.
"Isn't it crazy that Romania doesn't have a drinking age?" Kalis commented, a drink in her hand as she did. The tour in Bran was long over and the two had settled back in Brasov into a bar for the night. A few drinks to calm the nerves before a busy work day tomorrow for them both. Kalis was in Romania for the art. She was hoping to run her own gallery back in New York and that suddenly meant traveling to every country imaginable to find 'rare and lost masterpieces.' Or, to get her fill of adventure on her dad's credit card before returning home to the real world. Not that Yennefer blamed her. The real world sucked. If her own dad were rich and alive, maybe she'd use him for his money too.
"You still have to be 18 to buy a drink here."
"Yeah but technically there's no age limit."
"Technically. But you still showed your ID." Kalis sighed heavily and downed her first drink.
Oh. She was an experienced customer.
This was going to be a long night.
And it was. The hours melded and soon they were approaching midnight. Yennefer had ignored most of the men's invitations to go home with them, but Kalis seemed rather inclined after her... How many drinks had she had, now? Too many that Yen had lost count. Not that the raven-haired woman ever let the bubbly babbling blonde out of her sight. Despite Kalis's thrill, she would be safely tucked into bed by the end of this, with a water bottle and some painkillers on her bedside table for tomorrow morning's nightmare. And a trash bin, in case she puked her fun night up.
Hell, maybe she would make a good mother. The sarcastic thought made her smirk.
Finally, after Kalis had started to trip over her own two feet, Yennefer deemed it the right time to leave. She wrapped a supportive arm around the smaller blonde and escorted her out of the bar, with the bartender making sure no one followed the poor 'foreigners' home. Yennefer would have tipped him extra if she hadn't spent most of her savings on the move, rent in advance, and now all of these tours Kalis wanted to take her on. Sure, Kalis had offered to pay, but the taller woman had declined. She never liked the feeling of being indebted to someone she didn't truly know. And that was just about everyone.
At least the walk back to their apartment was a nice one. The stars shone brightly overhead - almost as much as the full moon, the cobblestone streets were reminiscent of history long forgotten, and the lamps were dim but lit enough to pave the way. Kalis had described it like Cafe Terrace at Night by Vincent Van Gogh mixed with anything by Dmitri Danish. For all of Kalis's superficial flaws, Yennefer saw the rarity behind the mask. The girl who wanted something that could only be found in paintings: peace. Being content, satisfied, happy, at ease. Every painting she gravitated towards, or at least had shown Yen, had given off those vibes. Yennefer supposed it was because Kalis had never known stability. Her father constantly traveled, himself. Her mother had died when she was young, and her maids took shifts raising her. She had gone to three different private schools, and nothing slowed down. So she adapted, and she was a walking tornado because of it.
Yennefer wanted to protect her. Like an older sister might have.
It was a fierce thought at the wrong time.
Suddenly, there was a growl. A hiss in the distance. Footsteps pounding incredibly fast behind her. Yennefer's first thought was that it was an animal. A rabid wolf on the loose in town, or maybe some sort of big cat. What kind of big cats did Transylvania have, again? She didn't have time to ponder. Because the moment she turned her body to defend herself against the beast, it was already on top of her.
And it wasn't an animal.
Kalis yelped as she fell to the ground, then Yennefer heard her scream in terror. Yen didn't have time to process why, because whoever had attacked her had disappeared again into the shadows. They were too fast, way too fast. There was no bloody way they were that fast. She moved quickly - far less quickly that her attacker, she noted - towards Kalis, grabbing her shoulders and lifting her urgently, "We have to run. Get up! Run!" Kalis could barely manage her own two feet when they were walking, let alone running. Yennefer still held onto her as they scrambled further down the road, shouting for help as they did. But it was late into the night and they were both weighed down by the tour and the drinks and physical exhaustion. And no one was coming to help.
It reminded Yennefer of an article she read back in a class of hers. About a woman in New York who had gotten attacked at night in the street, near a busy apartment building. She was screaming her lungs away, but everyone who had heard her figured someone else would call the police. So no one did. The woman ended up dying alone, not knowing why anyone hadn't helped. Was that their fate, here? Everyone assumed someone was coming to help and no one was?
Again, Yennefer was hit. This time, it was from behind. The force of the blow was so powerful that Kalis flew from her arms and Yen slid against the cobblestone streets she had admired mere minutes ago. Now, she despised how rough they felt against her face, especially when she felt warm trails of blood down her cheek. She had to get up. She had to keep going. She had to get help. Whatever she was fighting against for her life was clearly winning in terms of evolution. There was no way she could best it. The only way Kalis and her were getting out of this alive was catching it off guard, holding it off long enough to escape. But this time, the attacker took no time to fly on top of her, pinning her to the ground with such strength her bones felt like they were crushing under the pressure, clawing at her clothes - at her skin. Yennefer thought she heard a demonic snarl beyond her own screaming and crying. Right before it bit down harshly into her shoulder, tearing at the flesh there like it was the kind of meat that should fall off the bone. The pain doubled.
The scream that sounded from her chest had never sounded before, and it terrified her more than anything else.
It sounded like the scream of a dying woman.
Her world started to fade away quickly, with black dots invading her vision. She felt her attacker lift when Kalis screamed again, but Yennefer could barely move her head to look over towards the blonde. And even if she could, she doubted she'd see anything but black.
No, no don't touch her. She wanted to scream it, but with rage. Don't fucking touch her!
She heard Kalis's thundering scream turn into a weak whimper. And then her world fell away to darkness.
No stars, no moon, no lamp light.
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"Nu...că...respiră!"
"....check her..."
"Nu, verifică!"
The words and voices barely filtered through. They sounded like whispers down an impossibly long hallway, or behind solid closed doors. Muffled, distant. But the bodies. She could feel them pressed all around her. Suffocating her while white noise rang in her ears. But not the sound of her heartbeat.
Yennefer couldn't remember what happened right away. She knew she had been walking home. The stars had been beautiful, as always. The street had been empty. Until, it wasn't empty. She had turned around and...
And she was with...
Kalis. Where was Kalis?
Oh no.
The raven-haired woman immediately sat up, shoving everyone away from her with a force she didn't recognize. They, too, seemed stunned by the exertion. Her breathing intensified.
Her breathing felt labored and unnecessary.
Confusion swept across her expression; she reacted like an animal caged in a trap, lashing out at the hunter who had tricked her inside. Where was Kalis? What the fuck happened? She was walking home and... And she was.... She was attacked. She and Kalis were attacked! Her gaze swung over the street, skipping the shocked faces standing all around her, searching for a drunken blonde with mischievous eyes but finding her nowhere in sight. Nothing but blood on the cobblestone. And on her own body. Yennefer held her bloody hands up in front of her face; they were shaking so badly. Apparently, it'd been too long since she had gone through the abuse of her family and classmates. Now her fucking body didn't know how to process the trauma.
"Where's Kalis?" Wrong move. Her voice came out scratchy and hoarse and in desperate need of water. "Where is she?!"
The small crowd moved back - there were only five of them, she could see now. All men. They looked young. Maybe about her age, or younger. Had they attacked her? She couldn't be certain. Maybe they were some of the customers at the bar. Maybe they had followed her and Kalis, after all. The bartender couldn't watch everyone now, could he? Maybe... But she didn't recognize their faces. Not a single one. And that horrible image of the beast that attacked her - it stained her brain vividly red.
Red. She was so thirsty all of a sudden. The smell that drifted through the street preyed on her attention. What was that smell? Oh god, and where the hell was Kalis? Had the attacker made off with her? What would he do to her? Yennefer's fingertips reached instinctively to feel her neck. She flinched, noting how torn the skin there was. If she had seen it in the mirror, there was no doubt she would have passed out from the sight alone. What was she going to tell Kalis's dad if she didn't get the blonde back? Would he believe her?
"Get off of me!" she screamed, hating the others for drawing too close again, hands outstretched in an attempt to empathize and help and pity her. She didn't want help. She wanted justice, and Kalis. And food. And water. And... What was that pumping noise in her head? That rushing river? That sound... It was driving her mad. Her hands flew to her head, palms covering her ears, "Don't go crazy, don't go crazy, don't go crazy." The last thing she needed right now was to lose her control. Her body rocked, comforting itself subconsciously. Her mouth watered. Something in her head told her: Feed.
Another hand had the nerve to land on her.
This time, Yennefer attacked.
It was almost second nature. One minute she was sitting there, having a mental breakdown, and the next, she was tearing into the man's neck with as much frustration and desperation she had ever felt. The very moment blood touched her tongue, flowed down the back of her throat like silken honey, she felt everything within her come alive. Every atom, every molecule, every nerve - everything. Her body was on fire! Burning with new life.
The sandpaper feeling started to disappear. She felt invincible. She could smell the freshly cut flowers hanging in a window far above them, she could hear a pack of wild dogs running across a bridge two streets over, she could feel the life physically draining from the man in her embrace. Her mouth clamped down harder, teeth crunching into flesh and bone and ruthlessly starved. Some deep, knowing part of her said to stop before it was too late to turn back. But the newborn beast in her laughed: she couldn't.
It felt too good and she was just so damn hungry.
And one didn't manage to fill her needs. Her wild eyes flickered between the remaining four boys, expressions horrified or mid-scream or shifting to determination. To run away. Not that they would have the chance. Yennefer launched after the closest one, burying her face into his neck, too. And then the next, and the next, and finally she chased after the last with predatory exhilaration. Her mind had stopped thinking logically. Now, she was nothing more than survival's witness.
It didn't stop there, either. Yennefer drained them all dry before her ears caught the sound of singing. A sweet lullaby. It was coming from above her, in a window softly lit by yellow light. Yen's body began to shake, urging her to continue the reckless bloodbath. Her hands dug into the stones of the building, fingers effortlessly crunching the blocks. Yennefer didn't have time to consider the implications of her actions, or her moral compass. She didn't have time to ponder her own attacker, or where Kalis had been dragged off to, or if she were the former's spitting image in her wrath. She just needed to feed; she needed to feed.
Not five minutes later and there were four more bodies added to her growing list. Two...significantly smaller than the rest. Yennefer stared down at them long and hard after licking her lips, and something within her finally clicked. Her mouth fell open in pain - this time, the emotional sort. It felt like a knife stabbing her into the heart; as if her humanity switched back on, in time to torment her. Her hands went to cover the children's necks, vainly trying to stop the bleeding. What little was left of it. No, don't die. Don't die on me. I'm so sorry. Don't die. I can fix it.
What had she done?
What had she done?!
Yennefer stumbled away from the family she'd killed. The blood on her hands smelled less like fine wine, and more like harsh misery. So she ran. She flew from the window and landed on the street in a perfect crouch. She knew she could land it, but she couldn't tell how. Her body thrummed nervously.
Her feet began to pound, one after the other, buildings blurring by as they did. She had to get out of here. She had to find somewhere safe. She had to find Kalis too. For now, though, she would...go home. Yes. Wash off. Forget everything. Sleep. Maybe it was all a bad dream. Some sick, twisted nightmare after taking that tour earlier in town. The myths had gone to her head! And the drinks. What did Romanians put in their fucking drinks?! She would find Kalis then, asleep peacefully in her bedroom, maybe with a hangover but no scars or blood or...or anything like that. And then she'd go to work tomorrow and it'd all be fine. It would all be fine.
Her key wouldn't fit in the door in time. Frustration stirred beneath her skin. Yennefer groaned before she slammed her fists on the door, successfully pushing it open and breaking the locks in the process. How was she managing these things? What was wrong with her? She would get that fixed tomorrow. Or maybe it was still a part of her dream and she wouldn't have to spend her money on some creepy locksmith from town. Head pounding, Yennefer slipped into Kalis's room. "Kalis?"
No answer. No sign of her there, either. The raven-haired woman's stomach twisted into knots. No, Kalis would be fine. She would simply come home tomorrow. And if she didn't, Yennefer would look for her, then. Right now, she... She was too tired to anything. The sun would be up at any moment and she couldn't think. All she needed was one more night of sleep. Of sanity. That was it. And then everything could be dealt with tomorrow.
Yennefer stepped into the shower, washing away the blood and dirt and experiences of that night. The sparse rain felt like a raging waterfall on her skin. Everything was too loud, too strong, too there. She ran a hand down her face, then through her long, knotted hair. She could smell death on her. She could still smell every person's distinct fucking scent in her nose and she hated it. Her hands reached for the shampoo bottle a fourth time, but she stopped herself. It wouldn't help. A small understanding that slipped past the brewing storm in her mind.
She slid down the wall of the shower, body settling into the small tub. She couldn't feel the cold of anything, but maybe that was because of the shock? The bathroom was only lit by a buzzing light. No windows, no escape but the door. Something about that comforted her. If anyone broke in, they would have to do it from the door alone. Worn, Yennefer's eyes blinked slowly, arms huddled against her chest, before she eventually drifted off to sleep...
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Her sleep, unfortunately, didn't last long.
Yennefer felt a strong hand suddenly grip her chin, the other hand holding something sharp against her chest. Her eyes flew open in fear. Not again, her mind screamed.
"Please!" she blurted, noticing two others were in the room. Both gripping her extremities to prevent her from fighting back, "You can take whatever you want! Just leave me alone."
Why were they there? Yennefer was tall, sure, but she'd always been slender. Not much in terms of muscle, more in delicate curves. She couldn't take them all, could she? It was an unnecessary setup. Unless it was for fun. Her body jerked violently at the thought. Last night's nightmare decided to flood her mind at that very moment. She smelled the blood on her clothes. And the blood on theirs.
She realized, in passing, her attackers this time were all women. And that sharp thing twisting against her chest in warning? A fucking stake.
"Can't," the leader replied shortly, eyes leveling with hers, "We came to take you."
Panic started to spread like wildfire. She thrashed again against her attackers. One of her legs managed to get free, but only for a second. And then it was captured anew. No sense in fighting them like this. She settled back into the tub, chest heaving. Again, her breathing felt... It felt wrong. "W-where?"
The one gripping her chin withdrew, standing tall over the tub with pressed smile. She tossed a towel across Yennefer's naked form, "Aretuza."