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Closed Starter for @redimeree Ghostface!Alisson:

The loft was quiet. Daniela pushed the front door open with her shoulder, a pair of shopping bags dangling from one arm while music blasted through her headphones.

She kicked the door shut behind her with practiced ease. "Home..." she sighed dramatically. Well... home away from home. The family's city loft.

Daniela usually stayed there after her Saturday shopping trips with friends. By the time they had wandered through every boutique, stopped for drinks, and inevitably gone out for dinner afterward, it was far too late to make the drive back to the estate. Bela would simply pick her up the following morning.

She dropped her overnight bag and shopping bags beside the sofa and reached for the light switch. Nothing happened.

Daniela frowned. "...Seriously?" She clicked it again. Still nothing. "Oh, come on..."

Rolling her eyes, she fished her phone from her pocket and immediately opened her messages.

(txt): ✨Bestie✨

Girl, can you believe this? 😭 I survive an entire day of shopping and the second I get home, the power's out. I'm suing electricity.

She hit send without another thought. A reply bubble appeared almost instantly.

(txt): LMAO. Did you try the light switch?

Daniela snorted.

(txt): You're hilarious.

Shaking her head, she kicked off her white sneakers, sending one sliding beneath the dining table while the other landed somewhere near the kitchen.

Still humming along to the song playing through her headphones, she was completely oblivious to the oppressive silence. "Watch Bela complain that I somehow blew a fuse..." the redhead muttered to herself.

She switched on her phone's flashlight and headed toward the small utility closet where she knew the breaker panel was.

The beam of light drifted idly across the hallway as she rounded the corner, never noticing the dark figure that was in the loft with her.

She was already halfway down the hall, still grumbling. "...If I have to fix this myself, I'm charging Mum for emotional damages."

She didn't know it yet.

She wasn't alone.

#modern/human au #/ Scream #redimeree

“ Do you remember me? ”

( From Ghostface!Alisson )

The phone rang and Bela stared at the screen for several seconds before answering. "...Hello?"

First Silence. Then....

"Do you remember me?"

The question sent a chill through her. Her brow furrowed as she searched desperately for something familiar in the woman's voice.

"...No." She hesitated, long enough to make her heart pound against her ribs.

"No, I don't!" she snapped suddenly, the fear she'd been trying so hard to contain finally bleeding into her voice. "Who the hell are you?"

Nothing. Just breathing.

Bela's eyes darted toward the big living room window. The curtains were open just enough to reveal the darkness beyond the glass.

She hated that window.

Ever since the calls had started, every shadow felt like a person, every noise made her flinch. Especially now, as her mother and sisters where abroad.

She couldn't stop wondering if someone was standing out there... watching. Her grip on the phone tightened until her knuckles turned white.

"What do you want from me?" she demanded, her voice noticeably less steady now. "You've been calling me for weeks." She turned another light on with trembling fingers. Then another.

"...Please..." The word escaped before she could stop it. "I'm so tired of this." Her breathing had become shallow.

"If you're outside..." she whispered, unable to stop herself from glancing toward the window again, "...just leave me alone."

Her chest tightened. The fear she'd tried to keep buried finally broke through. "...Who are you?!" Bela's voice cracked. "Why are you doing this to me?!"

#(she's terrified)#modern/human au #redimeree

@redimeree

The town lights stretched farther than Bela had expected; they reflected in puddles left behind by an evening rain. Cars passed occasionally, their headlights briefly illuminating empty streets before vanishing again. Somewhere in the distance, music drifted from a place she couldn't identify. It was strange. Too many lights, too many sounds, and too many people. Not that many remained awake at this hour, but even this late at night, the town felt more alive than the village ever had.

Bela walked quietly beside Alisson. Her pace was slower than it used to be. Two months had improved her condition, though not nearly enough. The jagged remains of her left arm were hidden beneath the sleeve of her coat. It had healed some, but not much. The crystal growth had receded, but progress came painfully and frustratingly slowly. At least she no longer slept through entire days. That was something.

The blonde also no longer stood over everyone. Necessity had forced adaptation. At first by accident and then through trial and error, Bela had learned to compress her swarm. It was uncomfortable, like being squeezed into clothing several sizes too small, but it worked. Gone was the imposing two-meter figure that had once wandered the halls of Castle Dimitrescu...for now.

Instead, she appeared merely unusually tall, standing just around 180 cm. Enough to draw glances, perhaps, but not enough to get too much attention.

Her golden eyes wandered upward, studying the buildings around them: apartments, shops, street lamps, and normal people. They paid her no mind. No frightened whispers, no prayers to Mother Miranda. No servants bowing their heads. No castle...

The thought came and went like a knife. Bela said nothing. She had become very good at that—very good at carefully avoiding thoughts she could not bear, and very good at not speaking names. Mother, Cassandra, Daniela. The words remained locked away somewhere deep inside her. Instead, she focused on practical things, like shelter and food. As if she had not spent decades with the same three people. As if they had never existed. The lie worked...most days.

Her gaze wandered down the street until it settled on the illuminated sign of a hotel further ahead, then toward Alisson, who was looking rather tired. "Iubirea mea... should we get a room for a few nights?" The question came softly. Not because she doubted they could find an abandoned house somewhere; they had done that for two months, but perhaps they no longer had to. At least for now. Her fingers briefly adjusted the strap of her leather bag. The same bag she had carried from the village. Inside rested her sketchbook, spare clothes, and a rather considerable amount of money that had somehow found its way into her possession with the assistance of several inconspicuous flies and the carelessness of strangers.

"We have the money. And I admit, I have become somewhat tired of sleeping in ruins." And after everything Alisson had done for her, she deserved some proper housing for once. "There are beds... and a bath." The last part was spoken with enough seriousness to suggest that, after two months of sleeping in abandoned houses and washing in streams, the prospect of warm water bordered on luxury. "...What do you think?" she asked quietly, waiting for Alisson to decide with her.

#(Bela should grieve properly....)#redimeree #Lone Survivors Post RE8 AU

Lone Survivors @redimeree

The house had likely been abandoned for years. Its roof leaked when it rained, and the windows had long since been boarded over. It was still better than the alternative.

Bela slept. Or rather, she drifted through a hollow, unconscious haze. The bed had been dragged close to the fireplace, but the fire and blankets offered little comfort against the chill that seemed to radiate from her own skin.

The journey away from the village had nearly cost her what little life she had left.

The ruin of her left arm ended just below the elbow, jagged crystal growths yielded to weakly buzzing flies that tried repairing the limb. Every attempt at regeneration was a slow agonizing process.

But worse were the wounds that no amount of recovery could reach. It had been days since the castle fell. Since the loss of her family. Bela rarely spoke of them, she rarely spoke at all. When awake, she spent hours staring into the void, her golden eyes unfocused, as if a vital piece of her mind had remained in the castle.

Suddenly, her eyes flew open. She drew in a sharp, rattling breath, her gaze darting across the room. Alisson was nowhere to be seen. The chair beside the bed stood empty.

A cold tightness coiled in Bela’s chest, close to panic. "Alisson...?" The blonde tried to heave herself up, but a fresh bolt of agony tore through her, forcing a stifled cry through her teeth and she slumped back.

#(Alisson she needs you....)#Lone Survivors AU #redimeree

“ Who’s really in control here? ” (for human Bela, from Ghostface!Alisson)

Three hundred and forty-five days. Bela no longer counted them aloud. The days had blurred together into a haze of boarded windows, locked doors, whispered apologies and the constant fear of making one mistake too many.

_______________________________________________

The front door slammed and Bela stumbled forward as Alisson shoved her inside. Her knees struck the worn wooden floor hard. Pain shot through them, but she barely reacted.

Blood trickled steadily from her nose, dripping onto the faded floorboards before falling onto the sleeve of her sweater.

"I'm..." Her voice was rough, permanently hoarse from months of crying, pleading and too many sleepless nights. "...I'm sorry..." She didn't dare look up. "I'm sorry." Her breathing shook. She could still feel the cold air from outside. She'd almost made it to the tree line. Almost.

Another pair of tears landed beside the drops of blood. "I shouldn't have run." She pressed the back of her hand beneath her nose, smearing crimson across her skin. "I'm sorry..." The words came automatically now. Not because she believed she'd done something wrong. But because experience had taught her it was safer.

She lowered her head further. "I know..." The blonde let out a shaky breath. "I know you're in control." Bela's shoulders curled inward instinctively. "I wasn't thinking." Another apology. "I won't do it again." She hated how quickly the words came. How natural they sounded. Months ago she would have argued. Demanded. Begged to go home. But now...

Now she simply wanted the shouting to stop before it began. It had become just another part of her world. "I know..." Her voice cracked. "I know who's in control."

At last, she dared to lift her eyes. Only for a second. Not enough to meet Alisson's gaze. Just enough to whisper, "...Please don't be angry with me." Her fingers twisted tightly in the fabric of her sweater, trying to hide how violently they trembled. "I'll be good."

#(Alisson you bitch....)#redimeree #modern/human AU

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