The Bloody Reaper (Alcina X F.OC)

-Maladies-

She slapped her hand on her cheek, trying to snap herself out of it, but she felt a wet streak left behind.

She looked at her hand, realizing her vision was blurry, slightly out of focus, but she could see that the white of the glove was red.

"What?" She breathed out. How could she be bleeding again? She closed the wound a day before.

She pulled off her glove, and indeed, the pitchfork wound was open on her palm again.

She watched in shocked silence as she leaned against the wall.

She tried to close it, but the blood that gathered in her palm only violently bubbled, sending specks around, but it didn't react appropriately.

She squinted her eyes, bringing the wound up to her face. The sides were red and sore... Or she thinks they should be from the inflammation. It was actually quite numb.

"That pitchfork." She thought. "In just what had that man shoved this pitchfork in?" She realized her mistake.

"Angelina, you idiot!" She scolded herself. This was sadly not the first time she assumed she wouldn't need to disinfect a wound, usually with bullet wounds or knives, there was less need as she'd use the split blood anyway, which meant getting rid of the dirty blood but this time she was stabbed, and she simply pulled the pitchfork that could have been used in many ways out before drawing the blood spilled back in the wound to close it. "Giving yourself an infection, maybe even blood poisoning." That's all she got out, not even feeling it sneak up as the world went black. (You knew that between keeping yourself alive or the brain itself, the brain will choose itself and sacrifice the body?)

---------------------------------

Alcina only momentarily questioned the time the maiden took in the kitchen before reminding herself that despite it all, she was still a human and humans can't forever be perfect, even the perfect little maid can make mistakes.

Tho this amusing discovery was quickly stained by a familiar smell.

One she smelt once to this day.

The day she had been witness to true morbid beauty, amazed by the irony of the world, sending a woman with the ability to wield her blood as a weapon into the den filled with monsters that fed on blood to survive, what a fun combination of fates.

That day Alcina knew she would never give her back to Miranda, the sight being something truly worth of another portrait to hang in her castle, her little maiden bathed in the red of other humans and as elegant as ever, as meticulous as with everything else she did.

The crimson of her blood was different, she'd bled many to make her blood wine and will bleed many more but all bleed the same color, not this one, it was almost a duller red, a deeper, more rich color and she doubted her eyes, thinking it was the lighting but at the same time she thought it fit the maiden well.

That richness also was dizzying, having made her want to bleed the maiden dry when she smelt it, something so addictive to it, making her wonder just how it tasted because if its smell meant anything, it would be divine.

All of her knowledge on combined, smelling it again had her worried.

She didn't bring it up yesterday because it was fixed before she saw her again but her uniform was ripped when she came back, only making Alcina's mind wonder as too what could have happened, from least to worst things.

Currently some never felt fear for the life of a maiden gripped at her heart, something she never felt before, was the new little maiden injured?

"How dare she hide it from me? I'll have the heads of those that dared to touch her!" She thought, not realizing how mad that thought truly made feel.

She stood, wordlessly heading to the kitchen.

"Maiden, what is taking so long?" She asked, giving her a moment to gather herself enough to give Alcina an explanation. "Maiden?" She ducked in.

Her already cold heart seized up, her maiden, out cold, on the floor, bleeding hand laid out to her side and some part of it bubbling on its own.

"DAUGHTERS!!" She called them. "Please, one of you call Mother Miranda right this second, she'll want to hear about this! One other get a maiden to clean up this mess, last find the medicine kit the maidens keep in their quarters. I don't care who does what just get it done!" She heard a faint 'yes mother' from the lunch room.

She approached and easily picked up the passed out woman, from this close the blood smelt different.

"Stupid maiden, letting a wound get infected like this, how did you even get that done?" She muttered, holding the smaller body in her arms with a hand on the back of her head so it didn't move around, barely paying a piece of mind to the thought of just how did it get to this point since she had been outside the castle for only a day but some diseases can appear in less time then this.

The wound seemed to drip blood at a consistent pace, making her wonder if it was an unconscious reaction from the body to try to expel infected blood because, being who she is and her relationship with blood, she knew it would already start clotting normally.

"I can't have you bleed out now can I?" She asked to unconscious woman, marching out of the room, having a hard time with the blood flowing. "Of course I can't, you are quite special dear and I am quite invested in the mystery you are."