Carmilla took in a deep breath as she prepared herself to put on the very best performance she'd ever done in her life. Upon exhaling, she knocked on the door and waited for it to open.
"Hello? Oh—it's you!" Laura exclaimed as she recognized Carmilla's face from the market the other day.
"And you!" Carmilla gasped theatrically. "What are the odds that fate brought us together again! Oh—I'm terribly sorry, I know I met you just the other day—by the apple stand—but it seems I've forgotten your name."
"It's Laura," she reminded her.
"Yes, yes that's it. Laura," Carmilla nodded. "Laura, I hate to bother you at such a late hour, but it seems my carriage has wrecked and my horse has fled. I was wondering if you wouldn't mind helping me look for him? He went somewhere down this way and my night vision is absolutely dreadful."
"I would be happy to help," Laura promised her.
"Excellent. There is a patch of thistles on the other side of the river nearby—"
"I know the one," Laura nodded.
"I was thinking he might be there looking for a snack."
"Probably," Laura agreed as she grabbed her coat off a hook. "My horses love that thistle patch too."
"Such gluttons they are," Carmilla remarked as Laura closed the door behind herself. "I often have to muzzle mine. But I imagine it's terribly uncomfortable and so I give mine a break. It just so happens today was his day off from the muzzle and now from his reins too."
"We'll get him back," Laura promised her.
"So this is your new house, huh?" Carmilla inquired innocently. Laura looked at her questioningly. "You had mentioned the other day you were moving because of boundary lines being shifted or something..."
"Oh yeah," Laura sprung back to life. "Yeah, this is it."
"I take it you're happy to be back."
"I am. My parents and I were living in a shack after Count Karnstein and his family moved in. He took our land and gave us nothing to fall back on—and what is worse is that he did so without warning or a care."
"That sounds... terrible," Carmilla admitted sincerely.
"It was. We're lucky we found the place we did."
"If I were in that position, I'd have done anything to get that house back," Carmilla told her neutrally.
"Oh, I did—I tried to protest and was shooed away. So I did what I thought would help. I got down on my knees and prayed."
"You're religious," Carmilla commented with a smile and a nod.
"And you're not?" Laura responded.
"I was, once."
"Are you okay?" Laura asked quietly.
"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"
"Well, you're talking more than you're looking around and you don't seem frantic—in fact, you haven't since we left the house."
"What're you saying?"
"I'm saying... We're not really looking for a horse, are we?"
Carmilla stopped and looked her in the eyes.
"You looked so distraught... I came because I thought that maybe you needed someone to talk to," Laura admitted. Carmilla felt herself soften toward the girl and she suppressed it nonetheless. "Everybody needs somebody, you know?"
"You are correct in that we are indeed not looking for a horse," Carmilla confessed.
"So what are we doing out here?" Laura asked as she stepped closer to Carmilla.
"I know you killed my father," Carmilla told her point-blank. "And I know you killed my mother. I was there that night. I saw you flee into the woods."
"What?"
"Did you not know that Count Karnstein had a daughter?" Carmilla paused and allowed the information to seep in before saying, "I am she. I am the Countess Mircalla Karnstein. 'Carmilla' is simply an anagrammatic alias."
"Carmil—Mirc—Countess," Laura sputtered. "I am... so terribly sorry."
"You're sorry?" Carmilla repeated. "You killed both of my parents, the only people that've been in my life for a stable amount of time, the only people I ever really knew and all you can say is that you're sorry?"
"Countess, please let me explain—"
"There is nothing to explain," Carmilla snapped. "You wanted your land back. You murdered nobility for a strip of earth, Laura. Do you know what that tells me? You esteemed a piece of land as more valuable than human life."
"I was saving human lives!" Laura cried. "My own family's! Without land, we had nothing. Nothing to survive on, nowhere to go! I don't expect you to understand because you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth! Life's always been easy for you!"
"I've been held prisoner for eighteen years of my miserable life!" Carmilla spat. "They didn't let me go anywhere. They were all I had and you selfishly took them from me! For a plot of land!"
"I didn't want to kill them. But I saw no other way," Laura sobbed. "I've been unable to sleep at night since then. I feel sick. Every time I close my eyes, I see their expressionless faces and their dead eyes peering into my soul, boring bottomless holes into it until I can no longer breathe. I can barely even look at myself in the mirror—if you're here to turn me in, then so be it. I deserve whatever punishment that may come my way."
"Hardly," Carmilla scoffed. "If I turned you in, they would set an execution date and you would be hanged on that day, end of story. I do not want that for you. I want you to suffer more than what a simple hanging will deal to you so that you may finally know true pain."
"So be it," Laura whispered. "The guilt is too much for me to protest."
"I hate you," Carmilla hissed as she grabbed Laura and flung her against a nearby boulder that lay only a few yards away. Laura's body slapped against the boulder and fell to the ground like a dead fly. "I hate you!"
Carmilla went over to her and kicked her, causing Laura's body to roll over. Laura was struggling to breathe and her eyes appeared to be unfocused.
"Is this making you feel any better?" she asked breathlessly. "Because it's making me feel a whole lot better."
"Shut up," Carmilla muttered, kicking her into the rock once more. Laura cried out in pain and Carmilla relished the moment as she stooped down and grabbed Laura by the throat.
"I know I deserve this," Laura rasped. "But may I be permitted to utter my last words?"
"No one's around to hear you," Carmilla growled and brought Laura's face closer to hers.
"It'll be quick," Laura promised softly. Carmilla waited. "I truly am sorry—"
Carmilla's grip tightened and Laura coughed and wheezed, trying to draw in the air she so desperately needed.
"—for what I've done. And I realize now that... I made a huge mistake. A mistake... I will not... ever... be able... to fix," Laura went on. "But my one wish... is that I... may have the opportunity to... make it up to you... in another life..."
Carmilla roared out of frustration and gripped Laura even tighter.
"...Mircalla."
Laura's eyes closed on her last word and Carmilla let her drop to the ground limp before scooping her up and carrying her back from where they came.
Laura was remarkably light—even despite Carmilla's supernatural strength.
They eventually made it back to where Carmilla had spoken to her from the porch and she had easy access as Laura had left the door unlocked. She fumbled with the doorknob and pushed her way in before setting Laura at the table in the kitchen.
It was a quaint little house; modest, but comfortable. There were varying shades of wood and she smelled a faint ghost of whatever it was they'd eaten for supper. And even though it belonged to a murderer's family, it felt cozy.
She straightened Laura's posture and pushed the chair in so that it held her in place. She then folded the body's hands and closed her eyes—it looked as if she were simply praying.
Carmilla stood still, listening for any sounds from the other family members and when she heard three separate respiration patterns, all slow with slumber, she relaxed and even looked around for something to eat.
She found fresh bread and deemed it worthy of eating so she sat down next to the corpse and ate her slice silently.
Between her chews, she heard something rustle outside. Her jaws froze and she spun around to look out the window, but saw nothing. Just as she turned back around, there was a soft tapping on the glass. She glanced over her shoulder and upon seeing that it was Nicolaus, she rolled her eyes and got up to open the door.
"What do you want?" she turned away and went back to her seat at the table.
"Killing's going to get old, kitty."
"I'm an all-powerful immortal being with nothing to lose," Carmilla answered with a full mouth. "I do what I want."
"You're going to lose that attitude as the years go by," he warned her. "There is no joy that comes from it. Face it. We all get soft."
"Don't plan on it," Carmilla retorted. "This bitch will not go a single lifetime that I see her without dying by my hand."
"If you say so," Nicolaus shrugged. "But how about the rest of her family? Are you going to track them too?"
"Why would I?"
"They brought her into this world. Part of your father's demise is their fault,"
Nicolaus reasoned.
"Not really."
"So it's okay that I woke them up two minutes ago, giving you about thirty seconds to get out before they realize there is indeed someone in their house that doesn't belong here."
"You did what?" Carmilla shrilly barked, jumping out of the chair and crashing through the door.
"C'mon, I didn't really. I just had to get you out of there. Why were you sitting with it?"
"I..."
...wanted to make sure she was found, her brain finished for her.
"Was savoring the moment," Carmilla told him.
"Well, off you go."
"What?"
"Now that she's dead, the soul has moved on... To another body. You should be off looking for it, no?" Nicolaus shrugged. "You didn't think you got a break in between, did you?"
"No..."
"Well, then... Chop-chop! Stalking and killing takes time."
