Mother of Midnight

Chapter 34 – Midnight Visit

“Rava.” Vivienne’s voice was low, a hiss that cut through the quiet. She shook her companion, perhaps with a little more force than necessary.

Rava’s eyes snapped open immediately, her body jerking upright, a flicker of instinctive readiness making her pulse quicken. She scanned the room in rapid, searching movements, her sharp senses on alert.

“We’ve got company,” Vivienne whispered, her voice laced with a dangerous edge. She tilted her head toward the door, her lips curling into a wicked grin. “I taste... fear.” The words sent a shiver down Rava’s spine, but there was no mistaking the malicious delight in Vivienne’s tone, the kind that came from someone who found power in the discomfort of others.

Rava’s hands flexed, her claws curling instinctively as her expression hardened. “Who is it?” she murmured, her gaze narrowing as she focused on the door, her muscles tensing, ready to react.

“Don’t know,” Vivienne replied nonchalantly, though her grin widened. “Same taste as last night when you were downstairs.”

“You could feel that from up here?” Rava asked, a note of disbelief in her voice.

Vivienne’s eyes glinted with mischief. “I can taste the fear directed at me almost all through this village. It rippled out when I walked in.”

“Huh. Wait, how far can you—no, not the point. So there are people outside our door?” Rava’s voice dropped lower, her posture coiled like a spring.

As if to punctuate her question, the door handle rattled. The lock held firm, but the sound was enough to confirm Vivienne’s assessment. Rava’s ears twitched, her sharp hearing catching faint shuffling sounds from the hall.

“Looks like we’ve got an audience,” Vivienne purred. Her claws lengthened with a soft scraping sound, and her grin turned predatory. “Shall we see if they’re friend or foe? I’m guessing foe. Please let it be foe.”

Rava held up a hand, silencing Vivienne’s excitement with a firm gesture. “Hold on. Let’s not jump straight to ripping them apart, yeah?” she whispered, her voice sharp but steady. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, moving as silently as her bulky frame would allow. Her eyes flicked to the single window in the room, assessing their options.

Vivienne tilted her head, her grin unwavering. “What’s the fun in that? Besides, they rattled the door first. That’s practically an invitation.”

“Not everyone has your appetite for... conflict,” Rava muttered, creeping closer to the door. She crouched low, her ear brushing against the wood as she strained to catch voices or movement beyond it.

A muffled hiss reached her ears—two people, at least, whispering just out of her full hearing range. The tone carried nervousness, a shaky edge that matched the taste Vivienne had described. Whoever they were, they weren’t soldiers. Probably just frightened villagers emboldened by numbers—or desperation.

“Still scared,” Vivienne said, almost dreamily, leaning against the wall as though this were all a game. “They’re not brave enough to break the door yet. Maybe I should help them along.”

Rava turned, her glare sharp enough to cut through Vivienne’s amusement. “You stay there. We’re not turning this into a bloodbath unless we have to.”

Vivienne sighed, her clawed fingers drumming lazily against the wall. “Fine. But if they make it through, I’m not promising restraint.”

The door rattled again, this time with a harder shake. A voice, low but firm, called from the other side. “We know what you are. Open up, and maybe we’ll make this easy for you.”

Rava’s lip curled, a growl rumbling low in her chest. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”

“Very foe,” Vivienne murmured, her grin spreading wider. “This is going to be fun.”

Rava strode up to the door with the steady confidence of someone who had been in far worse situations. Her voice rang out, low and firm, with an edge sharp enough to cut through the tension in the hall. “I’d strongly suggest you all head back to your homes while you still can. Things won’t go as smoothly for you as you think if you keep pushing.”

The murmuring outside quieted for a moment, the weight of her warning sinking into the gathered crowd. But then a voice, bolder than before, shot back. “We’re not afraid of you—or the thing you brought with you! People like you don’t belong here.”

Vivienne let out a soft, menacing chuckle from where she lounged against the wall. “Oh, Rava,” she purred, her eyes gleaming in the dim light, “they’re calling me a thing. That’s almost charming. Almost.”

“Shut it,” Rava growled under her breath, her hand hovering over the latch. She wasn’t sure what her next move would be, but she knew she had to end this quickly—before Vivienne decided to escalate.

The voice outside continued, emboldened by its own defiance. “You’ve brought danger to our village! We’ve got children here, families—this isn’t your playground! Leave now, or we’ll make you.”

Rava rolled her shoulders, her muscles taut beneath her skin. She knew they didn’t really have a plan. Desperation like this always came with more noise than bite. But she also knew desperation could make people reckless—and dangerous.

Vivienne pushed off the wall, her movements fluid and deliberate as she strolled toward the door. “You know,” she said lightly, her claws flexing, “I could just eat their fear and be done with this. Saves everyone time.”

Rava shot her a glare. “You’ll do no such thing.”

“Fine,” Vivienne sighed, though her tone held no real concession. “But if they break the door down, I’m taking it as permission.”

The door rattled harder this time, and the sound of wood groaning under strain filled the room. Rava’s ears flattened against her head, her patience wearing thin. “Last warning,” she called out, her voice laced with finality. “Turn around. Go back to your homes. You won’t like what happens if you don’t.”

For a moment, the hallway was silent—an uneasy, fragile pause hanging in the air. Then came a loud, jarring crash. The door buckled inward, the lock barely holding as cracks spiderwebbed across the wood. The sound reverberated through the room, as if daring them to respond.

Vivienne’s grin stretched wider, the glint of her teeth and too-many eyes almost gleaming in the dim light. “Well,” she purred, her voice dripping with malicious delight, “they’ve made their choice.”

“Viv!” Rava snapped, the bite in her voice sharp enough to cut. “Shut it!”

Vivienne tilted her head, her expression taking on a faux innocence that was anything but. “Ooh, Viv. I haven’t been called that in… well, whenever I was last alive. Are we that close now, Rava?”

Rava groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “Could you not do this right now?”

“Oh, but you started it.” Vivienne’s amusement didn’t waver, though her attention flicked briefly to the door as it groaned under the strain of another hit. She cracked her knuckles, the sound unnervingly loud. “Though I’m more than happy to let them interrupt our little bonding moment.”

Rava ignored the bait and turned her focus back to the door. She stepped in front of it, planting herself like a wall between Vivienne and the intruders. “You’re not helping.”

“Helping wasn’t really in the job description,” Vivienne quipped. Her claws extended slightly, the sharp edges glinting. “But don’t worry, I’ll leave the talking to you. For now.”

Rava inhaled deeply, steadying herself before calling through the door once more. “This is your last chance. Go home, or you’re not going to like how this ends.”

The murmurs outside grew louder, more agitated. It was clear the mob wasn’t interested in listening, but the uncertainty in their voices hinted at hesitation. The tension was a taut wire ready to snap.

Vivienne leaned in, her voice dropping to a low, teasing whisper that sent a shiver down Rava’s spine. “Think they’ll back down?”

“Not with you standing there grinning like an aetherbeast,” Rava muttered, her tail flicking in irritation as her ears twitched toward the door, tracking every sound from the other side.

Vivienne’s grin widened, a glint of sharp teeth visible as her too-large eyes glimmered with amusement. “Rava,” she said with a silky edge to her voice, “I am an aetherbeast.”

Rava rolled her eyes but kept her focus on the door. “Then maybe try not to look the part for five seconds.”

“Can’t make any promises.” Vivienne’s claws flexed, scratching faint lines into the wooden table beside her. “But I’ll let you take the lead—for now.”

Before Rava could respond, another loud crack splintered the tense silence. The doorframe groaned as the mob on the other side heaved against it, emboldened by their numbers. The voice from earlier called again, louder this time. “You’ve brought something unnatural into our village! We won’t let you curse this place with its presence!”

Vivienne tilted her head, her grin softening into something unreadable. “Unnatural,” she repeated, as if savouring the word. “They really don’t like me, do they?”

“No one likes a smirking predator,” Rava muttered, her grip tightening on the door’s handle. Her muscles coiled, ready to spring. “You stay back. I’ll deal with this.”

“Stay back?” Vivienne sounded almost offended. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Rava didn’t dignify the comment with an answer. Instead, she wrenched the door open with a sudden, decisive movement. The force of it startled the mob outside, who stumbled back a step, weapons raised but hesitation clear in their eyes.

Standing at the threshold, Rava let her eyes sweep over the small crowd—a mismatched group of villagers wielding whatever they could find: pitchforks, rusted swords, even a spade. “This is your chance to walk away,” she said, her voice low and firm, carrying an edge that left no room for argument. “I suggest you take it.”

One of the men in the front, older and bolder than the rest, pointed a trembling hand toward Vivienne, who lounged in the shadows just behind Rava, her grin still razor-sharp. “That thing doesn’t belong here! It’s evil!”

Rava’s ears flattened as she growled, stepping forward to shield Vivienne. “And you don’t belong in the room I paid for.” she shot back. “Go home. Now.”

The mob wavered, their courage faltering as Vivienne stepped into view. She didn’t say a word; she didn’t have to. The sheer weight of her presence—those predatory eyes, that unnatural aura—did the talking for her.

The older man swallowed hard, his grip tightening on the pitchfork in his hands. “You can’t scare us off,” he said, though the quaver in his voice betrayed him. “We’ll do what’s right.”

Rava smirked grimly. “Doing what’s right?” She took another step forward, her claws flexing slightly. “Right now, I see a lot of scared people about to do something very stupid.”

Vivienne chuckled softly behind her. “Oh, I like this side of you,” she murmured, her voice carrying just enough to make the villagers flinch.

“Shut up, Viv,” Rava snapped without turning, her focus still on the mob. “Last warning. Leave, or I promise, you’ll regret staying.”

The villagers hesitated, exchanging uncertain glances. Whatever bravery they’d mustered was cracking under the weight of Rava’s resolve and Vivienne’s eerie, silent threat.

The older man lunged, his movements driven by fear and desperation rather than skill. He was large, his arms thick with the strength earned from years at the mills, but to Rava, he may as well have been moving through syrup. His attack was slow, predictable, amateurish.

Rava stepped to the side with fluid precision, letting his weight carry him past her. She didn’t bother drawing a weapon—she didn’t have one—but her elbow shot out, slamming into the man’s ribs with a practiced force that sent him sprawling to the ground.

He wheezed, clutching his side, but before he could get up, Rava stepped forward, her boot planting firmly on the handle of his pitchfork. Her tail lashed behind her, a sharp counterpoint to her measured voice. “That was your first mistake. Don’t make another.”

The rest of the mob hesitated, their weapons faltering in trembling hands. Even with their numbers, the sight of their leader sprawled on the floor and the calm confidence of Rava’s movements was enough to sap his nerve. Then Vivienne stepped forward, and the last threads of courage began to unravel.

She moved with an unsettling grace, her smile all sharp teeth and dark humour. “Oh, that was entertaining,” she purred, her voice a smooth, mocking caress. “But surely, you can do better?” Her tongue darted out, that unnatural black tendril flicking briefly over her lips, a gesture that was both playful and threatening.

The mob recoiled, the tension in the air shifting from anger to outright terror.

“I can taste it,” Vivienne said, her voice dropping into something lower, darker. “Your fear. Delicious, but not nearly enough to satisfy me.”

“Viv!” Rava barked, her voice snapping like a whip. “Enough.”

Vivienne paused, her grin faltering for a fraction of a second. Then she sighed dramatically, throwing her hands up. “Fine. I was only having a little fun.”

Rava’s sharp eyes scanned the mob, her voice cutting through the chaos. “This is over. Go home. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

The villagers hesitated, but the sight of Vivienne, the predator barely held in check, was enough to break them. One by one, they backed away, muttering apologies and excuses under their breath as they retreated down the hall.

The older man scrambled to his feet, clutching his ribs as he limped after them, shooting a hateful glare at Vivienne before disappearing around the corner.

When the sound of footsteps faded, Rava exhaled, her shoulders dropping slightly. “Well, that went about as well as I expected.”

Vivienne laughed, a soft, amused sound. “I think it went splendidly.” She gestured lazily at the now-empty hall. “They’ll think twice before bothering us again.”

“Or they’ll come back with reinforcements,” Rava muttered, closing the door and sliding the lock back into place. “I need to sleep, and you’re not helping.”

"Go to sleep, then," Vivienne said softly, the usual mischief absent. "I’ll keep watch."

Rava hesitated, her sharp gaze flicking over Vivienne before she turned onto her side, pulling the thin blanket up. "If you let them kill us in our sleep, I’m haunting you," she muttered.

Vivienne chuckled, low and dark. "Deal."

The room settled into silence, Rava’s breaths evening out as sleep claimed her. Vivienne stayed where she was, her sharp eyes locked on the door, claws idly tapping her knees. She tasted the air again—no more fear, just simmering resentment from the village below. They wouldn’t come back tonight.

Her gaze drifted briefly to Rava, curled up defensively even in sleep. Vivienne’s grin softened.

“Sweet dreams, Rava,” she murmured to the quiet room. “I’ll handle the nightmares.”

And she kept her vigil, still as a shadow, sharp as the edge of a blade.