𝐀 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐬𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐥... 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭'𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭 ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1

previously, part 13 of the fanfiction "There's light in the darkness" - 𝘈 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭... ᴘᴀʀᴛ 3

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼 : ᴬˢᵗʳⁱᵈ ˢᵃᵈᵈˡᵉʳ ⁽ʰⁱᵍʰ ᵖʳⁱᵉˢᵗᵉˢˢ ᵒᶠ ᴸᵒˢ ᴵˡˡᵘᵐⁱⁿᵃᵈᵒˢ, ᴹⁱᵍᵘᵉˡ ⁽ˡᵒʷ ʳᵃⁿᵏᵉᵈ ᶜᵘˡᵗⁱˢᵗ ⁱⁿ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳʸ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᴸᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃᵍᵃˢ ⁱⁿᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ

ᵣₑₛᵢdₑₙₜ ₑᵥᵢₗ ₄ --- 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬

ʟɪɴᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋꜱᴛᴏʀʏ: ᴾᵃʳᵗ¹: ᵀʰᵉ ᴿⁱᵗᵘᵃˡ

╭━━━━━∙⋆⋅⋆∙━━━━━╮

---

ᴍɪɢᴜᴇʟ'ꜱ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴘᴇᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ

I’d been kneeling outside the ritual chamber for what felt like hours. My arms were slack at my sides, back upright like I’d been taught. The doors had been sealed since the chanting began, deep, long vowels echoing through the halls like the sound of grief in a locked throat. Astrid said it would be a hard one tonight. That it was not meant for me to see. That I should stay out here, wait, and not be afraid.

I wasn’t afraid, not at first.

Just still.

Obedient.

My knees ached from the cold floor.

My fingers pressed against the folds of my robe as I waited. I kept imagining her inside... her voice, clear and precise, calling forth the sacred names of the plaga, the congregation moving as one. I could almost feel it, but, still, it felt quite far away.

Then, there were steps.

Slow and steady, from the right side of the hall.

I looked up.

He wore red. The crimson robes of the ascended, marked with black for correction and enforcement while, over his face, he bore an animal skull, the goat or the ram (I never actually knew what it was exactly). Its horns were cracked. Looking at me.

"You. What ritual is being held?"

I blinked, heart suddenly hammering in my throat. “The Seventy-Seven Gates. High Priestess Astrid leads it.”

"And why are you not inside?"

My stomach clenched. I lowered my head slightly, unsure if I’d spoken too boldly. “She gave me orders… to stay here. She said the Lord’s movements tonight would be too strong for me to withstand.”

Silence. A long one.

Then, a sharp growl, disbelieving, with an emphasis on the last word.

“She spared you?”

He stepped closer, his robes brushing against the floor. “You're lying. The High Priestess would never undermine the Lord’s reach. This is disobedience.”

“No- I didn’t—” I tried to stand, to explain better, but his hand gripped my arm too fast.

“So your Plaga fails to respond to the call? Tch…”

He spat, disgust dripping from the edges of the mask.

“A defect like you is dangerous. Tainted flesh. Faulty soul.”

“I—no—please—she—she told me—”

But he wasn’t listening.

He yanked me forward, my knees scraping the stone. I stumbled, heart thundering in my ears.

I tried to Astrid’s words:

"Stay here."

"You don’t need to see this."

"Wait for me."

But now I was being dragged away... and I—

I couldn't— The ritual doors stayed shut. Her voice didn’t come.

As we descended down the corridor, the air grew thick and metallic.

Torchlight flickered against damp walls that had names and prayers carved into them with the desperation of fingernails and old knives.

I knew what awaited me.... Punishment.

The chambers stank of smoke and rust.

Of teeth.

Of blood.

“No, please, she’ll come—she’ll explain—I’m not—I didn’t disobey—!”

But he shoved me into the dark anyway.

And no one heard me fall.

The door slammed shut behind me.

The echo of it bounced on the walls of the isolation room and rang back, in my ribs, like a bell.

I didn’t move at first. I didn’t even breathe. Here, there were no lights. Only the scent of old iron, of damp robes, of something far beneath holiness.

My breathing got shaky. I bit the inside of my cheek just to stay present.

I tried to pray. I really tried.

"Lord Saddler... I... I am yours. I submit. I offer my fear, my doubt. Please see me. Please see—"

The sharp drag of cloth and leather snapped the silence. I flinched.

Footsteps returned— measured, precise. I could see his silhouette now in the low orange glow spilling from under the doorframe, his red robe fluttering with each stride, that monstrous animal skull glaring down at me.

“You should be ashamed,” he murmured, almost with reverence. “To be chosen and yet to resist.”

I didn’t answer. My knees scraped the stone when I tried to sit upright, but the moment I moved, his hands were on me again. Rough leather, cold buckle.

He twisted my wrists behind me.

The impact bit into my skin, tight, practiced, enough to bend my height.

“Defiance is not yours to wield,” he hissed into my ear. “You were made to kneel. You are no longer flesh. You are vessel.”

I winced. The burn of the binding dug sharp into my ts as he tied them tighter. I tried to say something—to tell him that she knew. That Astrid told me to wait.

But, once again, my voice came out small. [C]Croaked.

His grip moved somewhere between my throat and shoulder.

Not to choke.

Oh, wait—

A loop of the same rough cord, drawn snug around my neck, like I was livestock.

“No tongue, no breath, no will,” he whispered in a voice that felt like scripture. “The faulty shall be emptied.”

My body tensed, a tremble pulling through me. I wanted to scream.

I wanted to call for her.

But the plaga inside me had gone still. No urge. [C]No warmth. Just the throb of blood behind my eyes and the sound of my own heartbeat, fast, frantic, helpless.

(Later)

The stone beneath me was cold, slick with whatever they’d spilled. My shoulder ached from the angle they'd left me in, and the cords around my wrists had sunk so deep into the skin that I couldn’t feel my fingers anymore. My throat burned. It had been scraped raw by more than rope, both inside and out.

Everything smelled like iron and damp and… something worse. Something rot-slick and foul remains.

I’d stopped trying to lift my head.

Stopped blinking. Just stared somewhere. [C]Ahead.

But then, I focused on something—

My name.

Miguel.

Soft, at first. But it didn’t belong here. It didn’t belong here. It was— Out. Outside!

It was her! For a second I forgot the bruises.

Something clattered where I followed. Metal on stone. I flinched even if I barely moved.

The high ranking membwr stopped moving too. [C]His hand still held the edge of that old rusted bucket, its contents sloshing like something alive. [C]And then…

Like a thread had snapped, his spine straightened. The chain on the door unlocked. [C]Light broke into the room.

Her shape filled the threshold like something divine, and for a moment, I didn’t know if I was hallucinating. She didn’t move at first.

I could see her eyes searching. Looking past the filth, the blood dried like mud, the ruined ropes. She looked straight at me, squinting her eyes as if she was trying to recognize me but she didn't speak. [C]Like her breath had frozen inside her. I didn't think she'd care that much... Was it really... that bad?

And then she stepped forward, only one step.

"What… what is the meaning of this?" Her voice cracked frantically.

The high rank didn’t answer. Not at first.

She moved closer. I could see her hands trembling. See how she looked at me like I wasn’t fully real.

"Answer me," she snapped, this time louder. [C]"What have you done to him?"

But I couldn’t hear the reply.

The ringing came back but it was strange. Like it belonged to her voice.

And I didn’t want to out.

But her light was so bright now.

So I blinked once.

And it took me.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Now, for those that are new to this AU of resident evil 4 where Osmund Saddler has a daughter, Astrid Saddler, and you haven't gotten a mental picture of these two characters, here is a visual representation:

Get to know the prisoners of the castle • (click on the link!

A merciful night

(click on the link!

+ art by me ♡

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

𝑀𝒶𝒹𝑒 𝒷𝓎 𝒞𝑜_𝒟𝒽𝑒𝑒𝒶

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟