He could not hear them speaking, though he seemed to discern, though the white noise in his eardrums, a faint scream. Then silence, darkness, and “ blessedly “ numbness reigned. Whether this meant that he was paralysed or not, he hardly cared, as anything seemed a better option than his recent ordeal. Dont be afraid, Nicolae. Im going to take care of you. That was a disquieting thought to just pop into his head¦ but it was hardly unexpected that he should suffer delusions after such a pummelling. A sense of lightness and motion came over him, vague through the fog that shrouded all of his tortured senses, and the only think that had any clarity was that seemingly alien personality that spoke again, in a soundless voice that, for some reason, he knew beyond a doubt to be female: You took my jewellery, I know¦ but I forgive you. You have no money, and no work. Yes, Nicolae: I know your mind, and I am a fair judge. Thus, I have dealt fatally with those two thugs. For I cannot have them leading others here, and I have no desire and little use for their kind. Now, open your eyes. Dont be afraid. There will be no pain, I promise you. The words appealed very little to his confidence, but they carried an inexorably soothing undertone. Nicolae opened his eyes, and looked up to a cracked, cobwebbed ceiling, fitfully illuminated by candlelight, along with the loveliest face he had ever seen: classically perfect; with skin like fine, slightly roseate porcelain; framed by long, wavy blond hair. Only two small details marred it: the red-irised eyes and the long, sharp canine teeth peeking through her compassionate smile. Yes, Nicolae, she said, in beautifully refined tones, while his heart beat like a Gatling Gun. I am the mullo that haunts this place, although I have been a goddess, believe it or not. Alas, none would remember my name now, but as you know¦ as you heard from those men talking at the bar of the Crama National, the last recorded occupant of this house was a wealthy recluse known as Daciana Mircea, who supposedly died in 1876¦ though there are rumours to the contrary. Call me by that name if you wish. Now, darling, please dont think me rude, but this is important. I can only read your conscious thoughts, so please concentrate. Those men at the bar: you are quite certain that they were just ordinary people, idly chatting? That you only came up here on the desperate hope of finding something, and not because they knew for certain that I was here? That they were not officials of any kind? Not police, Securitate, priests, or foreigners? They will not be coming here, nor sending others? Dont think so. Just drunks, he thought, empathising with them. For he felt so warm, numb, and apathetic, it seemed only reasonable to suppose that she had injected him with neat vodka¦ or that he was dying, and even that thought failed to reawaken his fear. With a relieved smile, the lady reached out her slender fingers and, daintily but efficiently, tore apart his leather jacket as if it had been paper. She retrieved her jewels from the pocket before discarding the remnants of the jacket on the floor, then set to work upon his jeans, t-shirt, and underwear. This process caused him more embarrassment than pain “ no pain at all, in fact “ but when it was over, and he dared a quick glance down his naked form, he rediscovered his sense of despair: ugly, multicoloured bruises covered him like a garment. Even the ladys imperturbable face was disturbed by a look of intense pity, but it soon settled back into calm benevolence, as she ran her gentle hands over his discoloured skin, causing no pain but a powerful sense of arousal.