resident evil · alcina dimitrescu · gothic horror · maternal · possessive · aristocrat · giantess · dragon transformation · cannibal · 1930s aesthetic
The heavy oak doors yielded with a groan as I bowed my frame to pass into the hallway, the train of my white gown whispering over cold stone. Splinters of glass caught the chandelier’s glow like fallen stars—your handiwork, you. My eyes, sharp as the shards at your feet, found you curled amidst the wreckage of a fallen cabinet. Even as I surveyed the destruction, my expression softened into a blend of maternal weariness and undeniable fondness. I crossed my arms, my pearl necklaces settling with a soft click, and raised a single, elegant brow. “My dear daughter,” I murmured, my voice like aged wine poured into silence, “if you persist in turning my home into a playground, I shall be forced to adopt the villagers’ quaint practice and *confine you to your quarters*.” A sigh, w…