Chapter Text
Cleaning had become a common habit for Ada. Well, habit would be a euphemism. A bold lie really. Actually, this was her job. Not only that. It was her survival ticket. It'd be her life on the line if she didn't do a good job when cleaning the dozens upon dozens of rooms and halls of Castle Dimitrescu.
'Scrub the floors until your nails bend
Polish the armor till your hands start to burn.
Dust the antiques until you're coated in soot.
Sweep the floors till not a speck remains.
And Finally,
Respect, obey, and fear the mistresses of the castle.
That is how you will survive.'
It had been like that since Ada got here. Only dressed in a torn shirt and too-small pants. Dirt coating both them and her. A dull stare in place of the fear and budding tears the other girls carried.
She was sent here to try and bring more cash to the farm and her ailing mother at home, whom her brother was tending to in her stead.
Ada went without question.
There was a total lineup of 26 maids when she arrived.
There were only 5 now.
Her and…
Huh.
She hadn't thought to remember their names.
Ada had been in the castle for several months. Had grown accustomed to the grueling work schedule and the tiring fear of constantly needing to fade into the background. To become the background so you don't become dinner. But, then again it wasn't all that hard for her. "Quiet as a mouse aren't you, sweet maid?" is what the Lady purred at her once when she was cleaning in the Countess' study.
Ada only meant to merely glance up from her work to meet the silvery eyes of the countess. Yet she ended up holding eye contact with her Ladyship for much longer, until she remembered.
'Become the background.'
She was drawing far too much attention. She was supposed to be glanced over, not studied upon. Alcina's eyes twinkled at the unwavering stare from the maid, her fingernails tapping along the desk in interest and her smirk broadening.
Strips of newspaper and letter's flared up into the maid's vision. Crowding around the Lady until Ada's body grew cold and prickly. She shuddered before promptly bowing and giving a soft, "Yes, my lady." Before dismissing herself and walking out to find another room to clean. Preferably one with no 9 foot countess lurking in it. The farther she grew from the room, the more the strips disappeared from her vision.
That was truly their only verbal interaction. At times Ada would notice the countess looking at her from afar, watching her work in the open, or somehow getting into the room and choosing to lurk in a corner without making a single noise despite her grand size. Whenever Ada did notice her, she'd simply give a small bow before continuing her work. She never knew why the woman was so infatuated with her work.
She didn't see the appeal to it.
Didn't see the appeal to much of anything really.
As of now she was cleaning an old wing of the castle. Dusting intricately painted vases as a storm rumbled from outside. She had never cared much for rain. Hated it. Would rather stay inside a house ablaze in a roaring fire then step a foot out into the dreaded rain. With its weighted drops and suffocating lies.
Lies that coiled around her throat and squeezed the air out of her lungs.
Hated it hated it hated it.
Thunder. Now that was different. Whenever a lightning bolt would strike across the sky Ada would wait and hope for the echoing boom that would come after. It offered her excitement. Offered her the option to experience it. Capture it. Feel it.
To feel..
Something.
Yes, that was rare.
So when a few booms shook the windows in the vast hallway she gladly welcomed the noise. It prompted a bit more life in her step as she dusted.
DUNT
Ada paused, eyes now staring intently at the vase so she could focus on listening. There was definitely thunder but..it seemed too..heavy to just be thunder. Almost like an unnatural weight.
So she waited.
DUNT--CRSHH
Again.
Garbled words and strips flared into her vision; red, black and white. Almost blinding as echoes curled underneath her skull. The letters trapezing around her mind as she slowly turned her head to the right. Dark curly hair now lightly flowing against her freckle dusted cheeks.
A man stepped in through the now broken doorway at the far end of the hall. A dark grey coat set over his shoulders, soaked by the rain and dripping onto the red carpet. His heavy boots were coated with mud, leaving tracks as he made his way inside. Gloves covered his hands while a pistol resided in his right. His pants heavy of some unknown material drenched from the rain as well.
From afar Ada could only make out his clothing and stature. Well built and tall. Maybe 6 foot give or take. So, while he didn't dwarf Ada he was certainly taller than the woman.
The words and scribbles splattered across her vision as she watched the man trudge deeper in the opposite direction. Not even bothering to look down her way.
'Quiet as a mouse.'
Ada's eyes snapped down to the weapon in his hand. Eyes glued onto it while the mess of words spanned farther across her brain and nearly covered it.
The click of his pistol brought her back to the current.
She turned to a nearby suit of armor held up on a wooden stand and reached to grab a medieval mace from one of it's metallic hands. When she pulled it loose a clang resounded throughout the hallway before fading off into the distance. The wind from outside dominating the quiet of the hallway once again.
The weapon had the maid's arm strain to keep it away from the ground. Her veins pushing underneath dark skin in protest.
Ada hardly cared.
She turned back to the man. Finding him no longer walking down the hallway but instead turned and looking at her. Eyes wide and gun now held with two, trembling hands. His eyes flickered down to the mace before back up into dark, nearly black, glazed-over eyes.
They stared at the other for a long time. Ada's dark brown burning into the man's sparkling hazel.
And then Ada took a step forward.
He remained.
Another step.
He faltered.
Another step.
He fired.
"Stop!" He shouted, his voice coarse and deep but filled with guilt. The tip of the pistol smoking in his hands.
The bullet flew past her and lodged into the wooden door far far behind the maiden.
"I don't want-" The man started again.
The last remaining strip covered her gaze.
'Life or Death.
What will you be?'
Ada propelled forward. Dashing toward the man at an unsettling amount of speed. Beginning to fully cover the near 20-foot distance between the two. His heart sunk in fear before he frantically fired off two more shots. One had managed to cut a loc from the maid's hair while the other drew a hole in her outfit.
He would've shot a fourth.
Had it not been for the spiked ball connecting into the side of his skull.
His body crashed into the wall from the brutal impact before crumbling against it. Staining the gold designs as his blood-smeared against it. His gun clattering to the carpet below him. The man quietly groaned in pain, barely conscious to be any louder.
The mace felt as if it weighed 3 tons instead of 3 pounds. Burning in her grasp as she watched the man slumped in front of her. Eyes wide and shaking.
....
.....
..-..-..
..-+..*..^...>..#
'LifeorDeathLifeorDeathLifeorDeathLifeorDeathLifeorDeathLifeorDeathLifeorDeathLifeorDeathLifeorDeathLifeorDeathLifeorDeathLifeorDeathLifeorDeathLifeorDeathLifeorDeathLifeorDeathLifeorDeathLifeorDeathLifeorDeathLifeorDeathLifeorDeathLifeorDeathLifeorDeath-'
....
...
..
.
Life
"P-Please.." He begged. Hazel eyes pleading up at dark brown.
or
Yet they didn't quite shine as much as his hazels. Not in the same way.
Death?
No, it was too late for that.
THUD
'What.
The spiked ball connected with his skull once again. Deeply caving it in before Ada swung it back. Calloused hands gripping the handle before she swung it forward.
Will.
THRK
You.
Bones broke with the third swing, the caved-in contents stabbing farther into his head. His body now laid on the floor. Lifeless, eyes now even hollower than her own.
Ada noticed a twitch from his gloved finger.
Be?'
THLCK
THRCK
THMP
THMP
Far too late.
Ada's arms were tense as she held the mace up and over her head. The spiked ball dripping with blood and other parts of the man's head stuck on it's spikes. Her chest rising up and down from the exertion. Deep, curt, pants leaving her. The man's head now nothing more than a mess of hair, bone, flesh, and blood. Jagged and mushed like the rows of hell.
Hell.
She hoped he burned.
The mace came down again with an ancient fury and at the same time, Ada roared.
The blood had splattered onto her black and white uniform. Soiling it. While the rest pooled around his caved-in face, the deep red substance seeping into the rose carpet.
The whistle of the cold winds reminded Ada of the broken door. How it lay more intact than the man beneath her.
Above her.
Beside her.
Behind her.
He was everywhere, really. Bits and pieces.
A familiar thundering of heeled clicks soon accompanied the shriek of wind in the hall. They rebounded against the walls before Ada could finally pinpoint the sound outside of the ringing in her head.
When had that started?
They drew closer until stopping at the edge of the hallway.
The countess' eyes widened in shock at the sight before her. Her previous snarl dropping from her lips and her raised claws faltering to her side as she took in the scene. Golden eyes flickering down to the headless body of the man before looking up at the maid sitting ontop. The one who had been holding her gaze on her own since she crossed into the hallway.
Ada's hair was tousled, it's usual mobcap now fluttering down the hall somewhere while her curls had been thrown out onto the front of her face. Frizzy and decorated in a coat of blood. A light sheen of sweat coating her skin, and her eyes- Her eyes...they..they were...
They were aflame.
Burning despite the cold chill that seemed to creep under any crack and crevice it could reach.
Burning.
Burning and burning and burning and burning and-
"What..have you done?" The Countess muttered in disbelief. Molten honey boring into lifeless, kindering brown.
Searching.
Burning!
The weapon fell from Ada's hands, her arms following suit back down to her sides. The words and strips faded away from her consciousness in an instant. Only replaced by one she quietly breathed out.