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dumb-little-trans-writer · 4 years ago

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Rust and Black Thorn Trees. Chapter 2.

The girl tiredly wandered, getting increasingly exhausted.

She didn’t know where she was.

She knew nothing.

What Miranda neglected to focus on, however, was the fact that she also transformed when on the brink of death, to attempt to find something, anything, to eat, or to wear.

She saw a pack of lycans.

She silently transformed, as how Mother taught her.

Or, more accurately, beat into her.

She stalked the lycans for the perfect moment.

They grabbed bunnies as though they were chips, the high-pitched screaming echoing through her ears.

As one of the lycans had a rabbits leg in it’s mouth, Dasha struck the lycan closest to her, slashing it’s throat. She quickly moved from lycan to lycan before they could react.

As she transformed back, she immediately started tearing the flesh from the lycans with her teeth. She found that eating right after transforming prevents the nausea and the puking, it doesn’t prevent the leaking of the liquid from her eyes and nose, though.

She binged, knowing that this may be her last meal for a while.

She could smell winter on the horizon, and this was her life for the next six years.

Over these six gruesome years, she was able to find the occasional lost tourist or hunter in the forests surrounding Heisenberg’s Factory.

She stole their weapons, and their clothing.

She found that she preferred men’s clothing.

The girl would transform less and less, using the limited ammo and resources she had.

Karl Heisenberg watched her last hunt, as it was the closest to the factory she’d ever been.

Risky.

Hmm, he thought as he watched her dance with the lycans.

With a shotgun shell to the face, of course.

“Hey, you know, there isn’t anyone who can sell you ammo around here,” Heisenberg said, walking toward the girl. She jumped, cautious, “if you run out, you’re kinda fucked.” he stated, putting out his cigar.

She had heard of Lord Heisenberg. Never met him though.

“What are you implying?” she spat.

“All i’m saying is that running out of shotgun shells during the wintertime, when it’s nearly below zero, can be deadly,” he paused, spitting on the cold leaves, “especially for someone as tiny as you.” he laughed at her glare.

“Don’t call me tiny.” she replied, walking past him.

In the recesses of her mind, she was okay with it.

Heisenberg led Dasha to his factory.

It was loud.

The metal clanging against itself, the periodic releases of steam, and the...chainsaw revving?

Heisenberg opened a hatch, and screamed “SHUT YOUR HOLE, ROTTEN CUNT.”

The revving stopped.

“Is one of your failed experiments down there, Karl?” she teased, taking off her jacket as the humidity made it extremely warm, and uncomfortably sweaty. It revealed how muscular she had grown. She was still slim, but a little buffer from when she was with Her.

He seemed taken aback by her calling him Karl, instead of Lord, or even just his last name.

He liked that she didn’t pay his status any mind, he knows he didn’t give a fuck.

“Maybe. I’ll throw you down there if you decide to say some shit.” Heisenberg said with a slight growl.

“I could take it, i bet.” she purred.

“Don’t tempt me, bitch.” Heisenberg whispered, emphasizing ‘bitch’

The girl lightly skipped down the hallway, amusing Heisenberg.

“If I didn'thave a spare room I'd make you sleep outside.” Heisenberg called. She turned and nodded, “It’s right over here.” he pointed to a door on the side of another hallway. The room they were currently in had the bare necessities, albeit it was a mess.

She really didn’t mind though.

She walked to the room he was talking about, and opened the door to a bed that seemed to be collecting dust.

In fact, everything seemed to be barely touched.

Despite her past with cleaning, she needed to at least dust everything down.

“You got something i can wipe this shit down with? Looks like a tomb in here.” she yelled.

“Yeah, gimme a sec, christ” Heisenberg seemed to be struggling with something. She left the room, confused, and then amused at the sight before her.

He seemed to be trying to fix his oven, or cleaning it, whatever he was doing, he was struggling with it.

“Pfft, need help?” she asked, smirking.

“I’d rather kill myself than get help from you.” he coldly replied, sighing as he took his head out of the oven. His face was slightly stained with ash, and he was sweating. She leaned up again the counter, looking at him with an eyebrow raised. Now that she had a closer look, he seemed to be cleaning to oven judging by the ash stained rag soaked in water he was holding.

“This isn’t how you do it, let me help you.” she demanded. Heisenberg was slightly surprised by this, but silently swallowed a bite of his pride, and stood up, arms crossed.

“So how do YOU do it?” Heisenberg asked in a condescending tone.

“You got baking soda?” she suddenly asked, “’cause we’re gonna need a decent amount.” she added, taking out the oven racks.

“I have a lot of it, i guess.” Heisenberg replied, slightly confused.

“Do you realize how much of a fire hazard this is? I might scrub your entire fucking house down at this rate.” Dasha exclaimed, “where’s the baking soda?”

“There.” he pointed to a cabinet. She opened it and grabbed the tin, holding it for a moment to see if she’d need another one.

“Vinegar?” she asked.

“In the same cabinet.” Heisenberg said, annoyed and impatient.

“This is gonna take a day, I hope you know.” Dasha laughed.

“Fucking WHAT?” Heisenberg asked, shocked.

“Yeah. I have to-”

“I DON’T EVEN KNOW YOUR NAME AND YOU’RE CLEANING MY OVEN.” Heisenberg said, frustrated.

“...Do you wanna know my name?” she asked, pouring baking soda and water into a cup, “or how to clean your own fuckin’ oven?” she said, sarcastically.

“Both’s fine I guess.” Heisenberg rolled his eyes.

“Dasha Jelíneková. That’s my name.”

“Dein Name ist schön...” Heisenberg muttered.

“...what?” Dasha asked, confused.

“Nothin’. Explain why it’s gonna take a day.” he quickly changed topics.

“Well, wiping down the interior with a soaked rag might get some of the grime off, but it won’t get it all off,” she paused as she mixed more baking soda in with the water to make a paste, “deep cleaning your oven like this also helps heat disperse evenly.” she explained.

“Seriously..?” he muttered, thinking about how his last meal was damn-near raw in some spots, and burnt in others.

“So, you take baking soda and water, make a paste with it like this,” she stuck the cup in his face, “you got rubber gloves, right?” she asked.

“Take a fuckin’ guess.” Heisenberg laughed at the question.

“Hand ‘em to me, dickhead.” she said, making a poor attempt to hide a smile.

“By the way, dunno if this has anythin’ to do with you, but i’ve been finding pretty large lycan carcasses that are either brutally killed and then eaten, or seemingly killed in self defense, all of ‘em had gnarly claw marks,” he paused, “know anything about that?” He asked. Her blood ran cold, but she tried to keep her composure.

“Maybe it was a mutated Lycan.” she quietly said, applying the paste to every crevice in the oven. Heisenberg was confused as to why she was acting strange, and more importantly, how she knew the Lycans were caused by...that.

“Well, uh, keep an eye out, yanno?” Heisenberg uncomfortably laughed in the awkward silence.

“Can you plug the sink, and pour some baking soda on ‘em? Then pour the vinegar on ‘em.”

“Okay...what now?” Heisenberg asked.

“Wait for it to stop foaming, and stick em under the water. In the sink, i mean.” she explained, finishing applying the last of the paste.

“Okay...” he muttered.

“Now, we wait for at least ten hours.”

“...Are you serious?” Heisenberg asked, seemingly shocked.

“Why wouldn’t i be?” she replied, confused.

He looked down, “That doesn’t seem reasonable-”

“You don’t seem to be either, Mister Heisenberg.” she smirked at him.

“You know...” he started, “You should be happy I haven’t chucked you down that chute.” he threatened, towering over her small frame with a hand in her hair, mimicking a ponytail, pulling her close to him. He outwardly smelled like cigar smoke, gasoline, and sweat. His breath reeked of whiskey, his hot breath on her cheek. But she smelled more than just that, due to the experimentation with the Cadou.

She could smell what people feel, she always sort of could, but this was heightened by the experimentation.

This was new, it smelled like a heavy, rich devil’s food cake.

It smelled like sin.

She glanced downward at his crotch, and he was definitely pitching a tent.

“You really don’t want this, Karl.” she whispered. It was true, at least in her mind.

No one should want a monster.

She didn’t even know what she wanted, outside of Her dead.

Staring directly into his eyes, she gently placed her hand on the hand he was using to grip her hair. He violently let go, glaring and walking outside.

He hated how similar, yet different they both were. He wanted her to stay with him, despite barely knowing eachother.

It was a bag of mixed emotions.

Dasha followed behind, she found Heisenberg collecting firewood.

“I’m makin’ hotdogs.” he stated.

“On a fire, I’m assuming?” she asked, “i had to learn how to make a fire by myself. Got good at it too.” she bragged.

Heisenberg ignored her comment, “Can you get the ‘dogs and the buns for me outta the fridge?”

“Sure, what rack are they on?” she asked.

“Figure it out.” he coldly replied.

She scoffed, and went back inside, muttering to herself.

Heisenberg thought for a while while she was inside.

Why did she know about the Cadou? Why does she live in the forest? Is it by choice? I wonder if she’s useful...I wonder if Miranda- he thought. He zoned out, and realized his hands were dangerously close to the fire. He nonchalantly pulled them away, added a little more wood, and grabbed a chair. He thought for a moment, and pulled another chair over from the wood pile.

She came back, hot dog buns and hot dogs in tow.

Heisenberg used his powers to make two metal sticks come to him.

“What the fuck.” she whispered, taken aback.

“Oh. Here.” he said, handing one to Dasha.

“No, what the fuck was that-?” Dasha nervously laughed.

“Oh, yeah. I can do that. Only metal though.” Heisenberg explained.

“Huh.” she replied, giving a bun and a hot dog to him. He stuck the tapered metal point through the middle of the hot dog, and stuck it over the fire.

Dasha did the same.

They sat in uncomfortable silence for what felt like a hour, but really was five minutes.

Heisenberg, obviously, was the first to break the silence.

“So I know you’ve never really mentioned it, but I’m thinkin’ you LIVE in the forest, right?” Heisenberg asked.

“Yeah. Why?” she asked, holding the hot dog above the fire.

“Just haven’t really seen anyone willingly live in the forest.” Heisenberg shrugged. There was another period of silence between them as the fire popped and crackled.

“Do you live in the forest willingly?” Heisenberg asked, taking his hot dog off the metal stick, placing it into the bun.

She looked at him, and opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t find the words to describe her situation. She blinked a couple times, trying to find the words.

“I don’t know.” she furrowed her brow, and had an unmistakable look of i’m-remembering-things-i-don’t-want-to-think-about. Heisenberg wasn’t amazing with emotions, despite being able to read someone like a book.

“Sorry.” he quietly said, looking away from her.

“You had no way of knowing. It’s fine.” She leaned towards him. Then, she took her hot dog away from the fire, and just ate it off the stick. This sight amused Heisenberg.

“How long have you lived in the forest?” Heisenberg asked with his mouth full.

“Around six years? Hard to keep track.” she said, after swallowing a bite.

“Damn. So how old are you now?”

“I don’t know, around twenty-three, i think?” she replied.

“That checks out.” Heisenberg smugly joked.

“At least I don’t look like I’m from World War II.” she retorted, laughing.

“And what if I am, huh?” Heisenberg joked, knowing he was in fact born around when WWII ended.

“I was kidding, shut the fuck up.” she laughed. Heisenberg realized that he really, really liked her laugh. Maybe it’s from the isolation in the factory, and now he finally has someone that seems to enjoy his company. This feeling scared him, just a little bit.

“Yeah, sure.” he laughed. There was silence again.

“This might be coming out of nowhere, but could you...refer to me as a boy? I know this is strange coming from someone who looks like me, but-” he got cut off.

“I get it, it’s alright. No worries. You got a new name?” he asked.

“Dimitri.”

“Still a pretty name.” Heisenberg muttered.

“I heard that.” Dimitri laughed.

“Oh.”

The both of them finished their hot dogs, and they went inside. It was getting cold.

“Starting tomorrow, you’re gonna help me around the factory. Otherwise I won’t hesitate to throw you out.” Heisenberg threatened.

“Alright, you’re gonna have to show me how it works around here though, depending on my job.” he replied, taking his jacket off. He got into his room and rummaged through his bag, looking for a tank top or something. He found a black one that he looted off of a tourist, and swapped into it. Even when it was freezing outside, it was mildly uncomfortable to wear a sweater like he was. He didn’t even think about his immense number of scars being visible, from various creatures and pitiful self-defense attempts. One benefit from the Cadou was that it gave him a healing factor. The only downside, in his eyes, was that killing himself was impossible. He walked out of the room, and into the living room. Heisenberg was making multiple small metal parts like gears and screws float in a certain fashion, making outlines of various things.

He sat on the couch that looked as though it was about to fall apart.

“You’re almost as scarred up as me,” Karl laughed as he pulled up his shirt, revealing a multitude of scar marks, and a happy trail.

Fuck, okay maybe I do know what I want... he thought. He felt a small tingling around his cheeks, as he laughed. He turned around and pulled up the back of his shirt to reveal some of the worst scars he’s gotten. Heisenberg felt himself tense up, his cheeks went red too.

“Can i..?” he asked as he reached his hand out halfway.

“Touch them? Sure.” Dimitri replied, scooting backwards.

He felt his calloused hands gently trace over all of his scars, even the smaller ones. Despite Karl’s rough and mean demeanor, he was so gentle. His hand gently ran down to his waist. He was surprised, but it was calming.

Karl pulled away, fearful of being intimate with him. He had just met the guy, why did he feel this pull?

“I was okay with that, you know.” he said, facing him and letting his shirt fall back to it’s place. He moved a bit closer, wanting the closeness of someone that he never had. “...Please?”

Heisenberg was confused. He was reluctant because of trust issues, yet Dimitri was the polar opposite?

Why did he come here..?

I wanted to use him as an experiment, why-?

“No.” he stated, “I can’t.”

He wordlessly left, Dimitri assuming into his room.

He sighed, and left into 'his' room too.

"Shit." he muttered, thinking about how bad that was. Dimitri went to sleep, trying to forget the entire damn day.

#karl heisenberg #daddy heisenberg #resident evil #resident evil village #fanfic #heisenberg x oc

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