A sharp rap on the door jolts me from my slumber. My eyes flutter open, adjusting to the dim light of dawn filtering through the shutters. Beside me, Erik's massive form is sprawled across the bed, his chest rising and falling with each thunderous snore. Gorgeous creature, really. Built like a brick shithouse and about as subtle as one too.

Another knock echoes through the cottage, more insistent this time. Who the fuck could be calling at Erik's door at this ungodly hour? I heave a sigh, carefully extricating myself from the tangle of furs. As I pad towards the main room, my bare feet silent on the wooden planks, a third knock reverberates through the air.

"Who is it?" I call out, my voice still rough with sleep.

A familiar, sultry voice responds, "It's Dumitra."

Ah, the vampiric vixen herself. Lovely. "Wait a moment," I reply, glancing down at my naked form. "I need to get dressed."

"That doesn't matter," Dumitra purrs, her voice dripping with amusement. "I just want in."

I roll my eyes, though she can't see it. "And why, pray tell, can't you wait for me to make myself decent?"

"I'm dying to replace the bauble at your neck," she explains, a note of urgency creeping into her tone. "And I need to discuss you with Erik."

"Erik won't take kindly to being woken at this hour," I warn her, picturing the Norse giant's thunderous scowl. "He'll be quite... distraught."

Dumitra's voice drops an octave, each word sharp as a blade. "Open. The. Door."

Christ, she's not messing around. I heave another sigh, resigning myself to the inevitable. "Fine. But you have to promise to be silent. Don't wake Erik up."

"It's a promise," she agrees, a hint of victory in her voice.

Steeling myself, I unlock the door and swing it open. Dumitra glides in, her movements as fluid and graceful as ever. I quickly shut and lock the door behind her, acutely aware of my nakedness in the face of her otherworldly beauty.

Dumitra's ruby eyes rake over me, a smirk playing at the corners of her full lips. Her gaze then shifts towards the bedroom, where Erik's snores continue unabated. Without a word, she reaches out and plucks the trudakshi bauble from my neck, replacing it with a new one in one smooth motion.

"New one," she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. "But this will be the last one I give you."

I tilt my head, curiosity piqued. "Why's that?"

A predatory smile spreads across Dumitra's face. "Your training to awaken your powers begins today."

Really now? I wonder how she plans to 'traumatize' me to awaken what Gwenhwyfar locked away. And I can't help but speculate if Gwenhwyfar will be frustrated that I awakened them before she planned.

"What will the training be like?" I ask, injecting a note of childish curiosity into my voice.

Dumitra shrugs, the gesture almost comically casual for a being of her power. "You'll just be chewing a plant for a few moments. Then you'll hallucinate pretty things. If all goes well, you should awaken your powers and not need a trudakshi bauble anymore."

Hallucinate 'pretty things', when trauma is required to awaken these powers. Yeah. No. Those won't be 'pretty things'. More like a technicolor nightmare straight out of Hieronymus Bosch's fevered imagination, I'd wager.

I force a smile, trying to mask the unease churning in my gut. "I think I'll get dressed and spend some time with you until Erik wakes up," I tell Dumitra, my voice carefully neutral.

Her ruby eyes flick towards me, a hint of amusement dancing in their depths. "Very well, little one. But heed this warning - do not eat anything. Not even a morsel. Unless, of course, you fancy redecorating Erik's floor with the contents of your stomach."

Fucking fantastic. Nothing says 'good morning' quite like the threat of projectile vomiting. I nod, swallowing hard against the sudden dryness in my throat.

I pad quietly into the bedroom, acutely aware of my nakedness. Erik's massive form is sprawled across the bed, his chest rising and falling with each thunderous snore. I reach the chest, carefully extracting my clothes and boots. As I dress, I move with exaggerated care, wincing at every rustle of fabric. Erik shifts, rolling to face the wall, and I freeze mid-motion, heart pounding. After a moment, his snores resume, and I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding.

Fully clothed, I return to the main room. Dumitra has settled into the armchair, her gaze fixed on some point far above her head. "Can I at least drink some water?" I ask, suddenly aware of how parched I feel.

She nods, a slight incline of her head. "Water is permissible. And while you're at it, empty your bowels and relieve yourself. Trust me, you'll thank me later."

Holy shit on a stick. Is that how horrible these hallucinations are going to be? Am I going to shit myself if I don't? What the fuck is she planning to give me? Salvia Divinorum on steroids?

I move to the water bucket, dipping a mug into its cool depths. As I raise it to my lips, Dumitra's voice cuts through the silence. "Your heart is racing, little one. Are you perhaps... nervous?"

I lower the mug, meeting her gaze. "Just thirsty," I lie smoothly.

Her lips curl into a knowing smirk. "Indeed. Tell me, did you enjoy my little gift? The goblin, I mean."

I nod, a genuine smile tugging at my lips. "Oh yes, very much. In fact, I still have its head down in the cellar. Organs and meat all salted and jarred after a good boil."

Dumitra's eyebrows rise, a low "hmm" rumbling from her throat.

"What?" I ask, curiosity piqued.

"I've never partaken of goblin flesh," she muses, her tone thoughtful. "Their blood, certainly, but meat? That's new territory even for me."

An idea strikes me, and before I can think better of it, I hear myself asking, "Would you like to try some?"

Her ruby eyes gleam with interest. "Why not? A new experience is always welcome."

Long pig, long pig, step right up! Get your human heart, your human liver! This goblin's internals looked exactly like a human's, tasted like pork too. These are humans... just with a different appearance. Christ, what kind of fucked up world have I landed in?

I make my way to the cellar, returning moments later with a jar of goblin thigh meat. I set it on the table with a dull thunk. "I'm going to empty my bowels," I announce, suddenly eager to put some distance between myself and the jarred remains of what was once a person. "I'll be right back."

With that, I scurry off to the washroom, my bare feet padding softly against the wooden floor. The bucket in the corner seems to leer at me, a grim reminder of the primitive conditions I'm forced to endure in this godforsaken era. As I squat over it, my mind wanders to the jarred meat sitting innocuously on the table. Christ, what kind of fucked up world am I living in where cannibalism is suddenly on the menu?

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Once I've finished my business, I carefully cover the bucket with a wooden lid. No sense in stinking up the place more than necessary. I'd kill for some modern plumbing right about now. Hell, I'd settle for a hole in the ground that's more than two feet away from where I sleep.

Steeling myself, I return to the main room, only to find Dumitra already stuffing her face with a piece of goblin thigh. The sight is both fascinating and revolting, like watching a car crash in slow motion. Unable to contain my morbid curiosity, I pipe up in my best childish voice, "Does it taste good?"

Dumitra pauses mid-chew, her ruby eyes gleaming with an unsettling mixture of delight and contemplation. She swallows before answering, her musical voice tinged with excitement. "Why, it's quite the unique flavor, little one. Much like human flesh or pork, but with an intriguing goaty undertone. One could create the most marvelous dishes with this meat!"

Her enthusiasm is infectious, and for a moment, I find myself caught up in her culinary musings. "Perhaps Ogres would provide an even more exquisite taste," she continues, her eyes taking on a faraway look. "Or what about Drekars? The possibilities are endless!"

I feel my stomach churn, a mixture of revulsion and fascination warring within me. "Whoa, slow down there," I say, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves."

Dumitra's expression shifts, a shadow passing over her beautiful features. "Ah, but you must understand, little one," she says, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. "New experiences are what keep me alive. Take those away, and I fear I'll slip back into the depths of depression."

Dumitra closes the lid on the jar with a soft click. "I believe I've had my fill of this particular delicacy for now," she announces, her tone light but her eyes still holding that ancient sadness.

Nodding, I take the jar and make my way back to the cellar, my mind still reeling from the implications of our conversation. When I return, Dumitra fixes me with an intense stare that seems to pierce right through me.

"Why are you doing this?" she asks, her voice laden with curiosity and something else I can't quite place.

Confusion furrows my brow as I reply, "Doing what?"

Dumitra leans forward, her eyes never leaving mine. "I don't understand why you don't just tell Erik," she says, her voice low and urgent.

A chill runs down my spine as I ask, "Tell him what?"

"That you're a-" Dumitra begins, but she's cut off by a panicked shout from the bedroom.

"Lile!" Erik's voice booms, thick with sleep and worry. "Where are you?"

Heavy footsteps thunder across the floor, and suddenly Erik bursts into the main room, his massive frame filling the doorway. His emerald eyes dart around wildly until they land on me, standing frozen next to Dumitra. The tension visibly drains from his body as he takes in the scene.

Nice schlong, bro.

"We will resume our conversation a bit later," Dumitra says, her voice smooth as silk.

Erik's brow furrows, confusion etched across his rugged features. "What's going on here?"

Dumitra turns to him, a predatory smile playing at the corners of her lips. "I've come to fetch Lile, to awaken her powers. I'll deliver her back to you afterwards, of course."

Erik crosses his massive arms over his chest, muscles rippling beneath sun-weathered skin. "You could have given notice a day before," he grumbles, voice low and rumbling like distant thunder.

A musical laugh escapes Dumitra's throat. "Oh, but where's the fun in that? It would be so... boring."

Erik's emerald eyes narrow, but he nods curtly. "I'll get dressed, then. We can eat together before-"

"Na, na, na," Dumitra interrupts, wagging a finger.

Na, na, na? That's... modern. Where did she pick that up?

"Lile must not eat until I deliver her back here," Dumitra continues, her ruby eyes gleaming with mischief.

Erik's jaw clenches. "Why?"

Dumitra's smile widens, revealing the tips of her fangs. "Forced awakenings are... kind of messy."

A flicker of concern passes over Erik's face. "Will her life be in any danger?"

Dumitra shakes her head, midnight locks swaying with the motion. "Nobody has ever died from forced awakenings," she says airily. Then, after a pause: "Others near them did."

Oh. So she's putting herself at risk.

Erik's expression darkens. "I see," he says, voice tight. Without another word, he turns and strides back into the bedroom. I hear the sound of rummaging, and moments later he emerges, fully dressed.

"I want her back home by afternoon," Erik says, his tone brooking no argument. "Eamonn's announced a village meeting by the well we destroyed some time ago."

I nod, then turn to look at Dumitra. She smiles, a secretive curve of her lips. "That can be done. I'll return her by afternoon."

Then, to my shock, she winks at me.

Does she... know about me? But how? I didn't do anything suspicious. Did I tell her and I don't remember it? The fuck?

"I'll take her now to a meadow close by," Dumitra says, rising from the armchair with fluid grace. "Would you like to participate, Erik? Watch from afar?"

Erik's response is immediate and firm: "No."

Dumitra's lips twitch. "My twin daughters will be there - Ioana and Virginia."

"No," Erik repeats, his voice even gruffer than before.

I can't help but pipe up, curiosity getting the better of me. "I've never seen those girls yet."

Dumitra's ruby eyes fix on me. "You'll be seeing them today, little one."

Erik's massive hand comes to rest on my shoulder. "They're... weird," he says, his voice oddly strained.

Dumitra throws back her head and laughs, the sound echoing off the cottage walls.

"What do you mean by weird?" I ask, tilting my head in what I hope is a childlike manner.

Erik's grip on my shoulder tightens slightly. "They speak in sync."

In sync? Really now? They must have some sort of psychic link if they're twins. Perhaps it's a form of quantum entanglement at the neural level? Or maybe they've developed some kind of psionic bond due to shared genetics and prolonged proximity? The implications are fascinating - if we could replicate that kind of connection artificially, the applications for instantaneous communication would be revolutionary.

"We have to go," Dumitra says, cutting through my thoughts.

Suddenly, Erik's hand shoots out, grasping Dumitra's wrist. His knuckles whiten with the force of his grip. "Remember," he growls, "her safety is more important than anything. Remember that."

Dumitra's eyes narrow, and she begins to struggle against Erik's grasp. It's a surreal sight - her lithe form twisting and pulling against Erik's mountainous bulk.

"Promise me," Erik demands, his voice rising. "Promise me, Dumitra!"

The vampiress continues to writhe, her movements becoming more frantic. Erik's grip doesn't budge.

"Promise me!" he roars, his face contorting with a mixture of anger and fear.

The struggle continues, a bizarre dance of strength and desperation. Erik's demands echo through the cottage, each repetition more forceful than the last.

And then, just as suddenly as it began, it ends.

"Just kidding," Dumitra says, her voice light and playful.

In a blur of motion too fast for my eyes to follow, Dumitra twists, her body moving in a way that defies physics. Suddenly, Erik is airborne, his massive frame sailing over Dumitra's shoulder. He crashes to the ground with a thunderous impact that shakes the entire cottage.

As Dumitra executes the throw, I hear a sickening series of cracks emanating from her body. It's the sound of bones breaking, tendons snapping, muscles tearing.

This confirms it, she somehow knows of my past life. That was a textbook Ippon Seoi Nage - a one-armed shoulder throw from Judo. There's no way in hell a technique like that exists in this medieval shithole.

Erik lies on the floor, his eyes wide with shock. "What the? I'm four to five times your size."

Dumitra's foot comes to rest on Erik's crotch, applying just enough pressure to make him wince. "It doesn't matter," she purrs.

"How the...?" Erik begins, but Dumitra cuts him off by pressing her foot down harder.

"It's how vampires are so physically powerful," she explains, her voice casual as if discussing the weather. "We push our limits, knowing we'll heal immediately after. To perform that throw, I broke thirty-seven bones, tore twelve major muscle groups, and ruptured my spinal cord in three places."

Fuck me, if vampires can override their body's natural limiters, they're essentially tapping into hysterical strength on demand. The human body typically only uses about 30% of its muscle fibers at any given time - a safety mechanism to prevent self-injury. If vampires can ignore those limits and heal the damage instantly, their potential strength is... terrifying. They'd be able to perform feats that would literally tear a normal human apart.

"That was amazing!" I exclaim, my eyes wide with childlike wonder.

If she can casually toss around a man Erik's size, what else is she capable of?

Dumitra's musical laughter fills the room, a sound that sends shivers down my spine. "Why, thank you, little one," she purrs, her ruby eyes gleaming with amusement. "I do so enjoy putting arrogant men in their place."

Erik grunts from his position on the floor, his face a mixture of pain and indignation. "Get off me, woman," he growls, struggling to push himself up.

Dumitra steps back, allowing Erik to clamber to his feet. "My apologies, dear Erik," she says, not sounding sorry in the least. "But you were being quite annoying. A lady must defend her honor, after all."

Erik dusts himself off, his emerald eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Just remember your promise," he says gruffly. "Lile's safety is paramount."

"Oh, don't fret so," Dumitra replies, waving a dismissive hand. "I swear on my soul that your precious little wife will be perfectly safe in my care. Isn't that right, darling?" She turns to me, her smile predatory.

I nod eagerly, playing up the role of the excited child. "Oh yes, I'll be good! Promise!"

I feel like a lamb being led to slaughter. But what choice do I have? If this 'training' can unlock whatever abilities Gwenhwyfar locked away, it might be my ticket out of this medieval hellscape.

Erik scratches his head, a conflicted expression on his face. "I suppose I'll have to trust you," he says finally. "You've never given me reason to doubt your skills, even if your methods are... unorthodox."

"Such high praise," Dumitra drawls, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Now, if you're quite done fretting, I believe it's time for us to depart. Don't you have a village full of sniffling peasants to attend to?"[...]