Resident Evil Village - Maiden x Female lords: Maidens Revenge

1| Dawn of a new nightmare

Chapter one

You couldn't even explain the horrific events happening in the Village. A once small, settled community broken in the worst way possible.

It was unreal, most terrifying.

A nightmare.

Before things got worse, those in the village were disappearing. During the night, a dreadful shift at castle Dimitrescu and soon it became whenever, in broad daylight, without a trace.

Even your father. It was only yesterday when you last saw him.

What's wrong? You look as if somethings wrong father. you asked him as he stood in the old chipped doorway of what had always been your home.

He shook more than usual for an elderly man, lips quivering and hands moist.

I-I can't explain y/n... I mustn't even say a word. Only that you must pray heavily for us both.. forget Miranda, remember...the gods. Remember all that I taught you, I'm afraid you will need it more now than ever. he whispered.

Those were the last words he spoke before you watched him disappear into the night, dragging his feet in snow behind a figure who remained a blur still, only a hat could be remembered.

But you knew of only one hat wearing figure who would dare disturb the solitude of ones space.

Your fathers words struck fear in your heart.

The whole village had relied on Mother Miranda, the villages priestess, a god in the eyes of most, although she claimed to be a messenger for the fallen gods many made sacrifices to in the village.

You thought of her now, a dark cloak, an odd headpiece that circled her head and a wired bird like mask that covered her sharp features. Though you rarely saw in full detail, her face.

She swore it hid her scoffing, teeth clenching agitation when asked for favors by villagers, often stricken with nerves, afraid of rejection.

Just one look at her and you couldn't speak.

It were obvious she did not enjoy her role entirely, which made you wonder constantly, how and why she put up with such needy commoners.

She had been the village's priestess for as long as you could remember. Even your father was a firm believer for years, thanking her and the gods in prayer before every meal, after every hour on the dot. It didn't make sense for him to say what he had.

Forget Miranda.

You wondered what she had done, if the villages chaos could possibly be because of her.

There were theories you had about Miranda, bad ones.

Sundays were communion. But you stayed behind, observing her acts of healing and charity, never getting too close, never letting her know you existed. Something about her had always rung untrue to you.

That theory never left you. You trusted your father with it. But he only grew nervous—like an animal as you recalled him hunting—urging you to forget you had ever thought of them.

You snapped out of your pondering, now hiding inside a cupboard, body shivering and finger tips numb from the colds blow.

It was the middle of the day and a terrible force had awaken the village a few hours from what was now.

Screams and shrieking could be heard throughout the village, from the morning all throughout the afternoon. Houses were being broken into and destroyed, and the sounds locals cried out made it clear they were being slaughtered in the worst ways possible.