Centuries had passed and sure, there were some years, some human lifetimes that Carmilla had not encountered Laura. Carmilla called those the dry years—dry because Laura hadn't spilled any of her blood. Carmilla hated those periods; they were boring and she had nothing to pilot her life.
She'd pass her time drinking, both alcohol and blood, and wreaking havoc in whatever town she resided at the time. She'd had plenty of nicknames over the years. 'The Monster of Madrid,' 'The London Leech,' 'The Parisian Parasite,' 'The Vampire of Vienna,' and 'The Belgian Bloodsucker,' just to name a few.
Yes, she had been going since 1698. She had built her life around stalking and killing Laura whenever it was made possible by lucking out and encountering her reincarnate. She didn't care if she had to kill her forever.
Okay, maybe that last part was a lie. It turns out, Nicolaus was right; doing the same thing lifetime after lifetime did get mundane and monotonous, even if Carmilla did spice it up with some gore or classic irony before Laura's inevitable murder.
Carmilla wondered if souls ever got tired. Laura's had to have been tired; it had to have been prematurely reborn 6,738 times—the age at which Carmilla killed Laura varied from regeneration to regeneration, but she tried to keep it low. It was almost like a high score; the youngest age at which Laura had ever been killed by Carmilla was 14, and the oldest age was 28. And though she'd never admit it, Carmilla didn't want to go any lower than 14 because she may or may have a little leftover guilt from brutally slaughtering a 14-year-old girl using only an axe.
The year was 1932, and Carmilla sat under a tree in a park, smoking. There were children laughing and playing, unaware of the latent danger that resided within the quiet woman under the three. Suddenly, she spotted a beautiful woman with light brown hair, wearing in a blue dress with a floral hat to match. The woman was absolutely stunning; the sunlight highlighted her hair and illuminated her hazel eyes as her the skirt of her dress billowed in the wind. Carmilla shook herself from her entrancement and her eyes settled on an infant who must've just begun walking recently.
The infant bumbled toward her, tripping and falling into her lap.
"Whoops, you had better watch your step, kiddo..." Carmilla chuckled, picking the child up. The child looked up into her eyes and giggled, sending a chill down Carmilla's spine and causing her to freeze up. Her heart sank. It was Laura.
"I apologize," the woman told her as she rushed over to her aid. "She loves everyone and doesn't realize that some people don't want to be bothered."
"It's... It's quite all right," Carmilla shook her head and brushed herself off as she stood up to look Laura's mother in the eye. She felt herself building walls and her heart hardened toward the child, but she showed no sign of it as she offered the woman a warm smile.
"I don't know where she gets it from," the woman laughed. "I'm very shy myself."
"Your husband, perhaps?"
"Oh, I don't have a husband," the woman informed her gently. Carmilla's eyebrows shot up. That was unheard of. "He... left. For personal reasons."
"I'm sorry," Carmilla responded, though she felt rather indifferent.
"Well, personal issues, both his own and mine."
Carmilla nodded and two of them stood in silence for a moment, watching 'Laura' entertain herself with a white dandelion. Carmilla then asked, "How old is she?"
"A year and a half."
"What's her name?"
"Helen," her mother answered.
"Helen..." Carmilla murmured, feeling the name on her tongue. She tried not to look at the child she would murder.
"And what about you? What's your name?"
"You can call me Carmilla," Carmilla answered.
"My name is Elle," Laura's mother told her with a smile. "So, Carmilla... May I ask you how old you are? You look very young."
"I'm eighteen," Carmilla answered. She threw in another lie for fun. "Today's my birthday."
"Well, happy birthday, Carmilla."
"Thank you."
"I know this is sort of... soon, after having met you only a moment ago, but... do you have a job?" Elle asked. "I'm wondering because I'm looking for a babysitter, and you seem like a decent gal."
Carmilla hesitated. This would be too easy. Elle was playing right into her hands and she had no idea what Carmilla was capable or what she had planned for her daughter.
"I'm afraid I cannot accept your offer—" Carmilla began. Her heart was racing. She hadn't been prepared to kill Laura this quickly.
"Please. I have no husband and therefore no way to support my little girl. I must find a job," Elle pleaded. "If I cannot take care of her, I will lose her. A mother's worst fear is losing her child. And I know you don't owe me a thing, and yes, you could simply walk away, but please... Look into that heart of yours... please accept my offer. I can make you dinner. Give you a place to live. Whatever you need."
"Why are you under the impression I need a place to live?"
"I've seen you here before. Before I even had Helen. You're always under this tree," Elle informed her. "I thought you must live here in this public park. If I'm incorrect, my apologies about my assumptions."
Carmilla examined her options. If she accepted this woman's offer, killing Laura would be easy, and she'd get a nice meal out of her mother—her fresh dinners and young blood. What could possibly ruin such a deal? But at the same time, Laura was only an infant.
"I accept," Carmilla answered, surprising herself.
"Thank you. Thank you so much," her mother joyously responded. "I owe you everything. You'll love my daughter."
"I already do," Carmilla answered without hesitation. She felt numb.
"Come home with us then," Elle insisted, leading her away from the tree and towards a sidewalk. "You can be my husband's substitute."
Once they'd arrived home, Elle showed her where everything was and insisted that she make herself at home. She was kind, kinder than Carmilla could've guessed.
Elle had just put Helen to bed and came downstairs to meet Carmilla in the kitchen.
"Would you like some tea?" she offered. Carmilla took out a cigarette and shook her head. Just as she was about to light it, Elle slid the cigarette out from between Carmilla's lips. "Would you mind not smoking inside? I don't want Helen to inhale any of the smoke."
"My apologies," Carmilla replied. "I didn't even think of that."
"It's all right," Elle told her, handing the cigarette back. "Tell me about yourself, Carmilla."
"I'm, uh... I'm eighteen. I'm originally from Austria—"
"Austria? Fascinating."
"It gets more interesting. I'm a distant descendant of a count."
"Really? Do you know which one?"
"Count Karnstein," Carmilla answered.
"Do you share that name, Carmilla?"
Carmilla hesitated before replying, "Yes. Your turn."
"Well, my name is Elle Sheridan. I'm twenty-one... and I've never been outside of this country."
"Would you like to?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "It sounds fun."
"It is," Carmilla responded.
"Have you only been to Austria?"
"I have been to many places in Europe," Carmilla told her. She studied Elle carefully, finding tension in her jaw as she pressed her lips together. She was holding back a yawn. "But we could always talk about that later. You must be tired. Would you like to sleep?"
"Would I like to sleep?" Elle laughed. "What about you? You don't sleep?"
"I... do," Carmilla answered. "And I will. Just not soon. You, on the other hand, look like you might drop at any given moment."
"I am pretty tired..." Elle admitted with a small smile. "Perhaps I will retire to bed—or rather, couch."
"Couch?"
"Yes. You're my live-in guest. I can't have have you sleeping on a couch. Or the floor, for that matter."
"This is your home," Carmilla argued. "I'd never impose myself."
"Peggy, I insist."
"I really can't."
"Well then, at least agree to alternate."
"I can't."
"Well, we're going to alternate anyway. I won't get off the couch tomorrow."
"We'll see about that."
But they didn't see about that. Elle had gotten her way; they alternated when they slept in the bed each night, though sometimes Carmilla would give it to her if she looked particularly exhausted or achy from sleeping on the couch.
And once Elle had found a job waitressing, they'd settled into a nice routine. Carmilla, because she never truly slept, would make breakfast and send her on her way. While Elle was gone, she'd pace around the house, watching Helen, and contemplate killing her before Elle got home—she wouldn't even consider killing her in front of Elle. And then before she knew it, Elle would come home and make dinner, and Carmilla would be safe from any murderous thoughts until Elle left the next day. Friday nights were the best because Carmilla wouldn't have to worry about murdering Helen for the next two days.
However, something inside Carmilla grew impatient. She wanted Laura dead. But Laura was... an infant. And Elle had been so kind to her, how could she do that to her? Somewhere during that time, she'd fallen for Elle. And if it wasn't really love, it was as damn close as Carmilla had ever been.
Carmilla trudged upstairs, as it was her night for the bed, and opened the door to the bedroom to find Elle in only her bra and underwear. Carmilla froze.
"I'm sorry," she apologized and turned around. "I didn't know you were up here."
"It's... quite alright," Elle decided, covering herself up with a loose corner of the bed sheets. "But... what did you come up here for?"
"I thought it was—I... don't remember," Carmilla lamely replied. She didn't have the heart to tell Elle that it was her turn for the bed.
"Well it mustn't have been too important," Elle chuckled as she removed her bra and put on a nightgown.
"Mustn't have," Carmilla agreed. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Carmilla."
Carmilla paused in the doorway for a moment before returning back downstairs to sleep. She felt Elle's eyes on her the entire time.
The next night, Carmilla had the bed. She'd just stripped down to her bra and underwear when Elle strolled in. Carmilla expected her to have the same reaction she'd had when she walked in on her, but Elle kept her eyes on Carmilla.
"Did you... want the bed again?" Carmilla offered.
"No," Elle shook her head and crossed the floor.
"Did you forget something?"
"No," Elle said again, stopping next to Carmilla.
"Is something the matter?" Carmilla tried again.
"I'm tired, Carmilla. Of being alone," Elle explained. "I have no husband. People in the restaurant come and go all day. It's like... having human contact, but not actually having it, you know? It's tiring. And frustrating. And lonely. Besides you and Helen, I have no one. You're all I have."
"Have you told anyone about this?" Carmilla inquired. She kicked herself for asking; after all, it was only to find out if she could fake a suicide.
"Yes, one coworker. Named Barbara," Elle nodded. "She's a friend, but I never see her outside of work."
"What do you want?" Carmilla asked, and Elle went over to the bed and sat down before patting the spot beside her.
"I want company."
Carmilla felt herself walking toward Elle and settled on the bed next to her.
"Let's just sleep," Elle suggested, getting under be covers. "It'll be nice."
"Nice? Not strange?" Carmilla asked, still on the outside of the covers.
"You're my live-in husband replacement."
"Right..." Carmilla trailed off and reluctantly climbed into bed with Elle.
"Is something wrong?"
"Of course not," Carmilla lied. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
A silence settled between them for a few minutes as Carmilla listened to Elle's breathing. It slowed as Elle finally succumbed to sleep, and Carmilla rose from the bed and went to go bring Helen to the bed.
She laid Helen next to Elle and stared at the both of them. She could kill them both now.
Both of them because somewhere in that fucked up mess of a heart she had, she thought it would be kinder to Elle to kill her so she wouldn't have to forever live with the grief of losing her child and the constant fear of losing another one if she ever even decided to have another.
But at the same time, she cared for Elle far too deeply to have any desire to kill her. She picked Helen up and placed Helen back in her crib. It was definitely Laura in there. She stared at her again.
Could she kill an infant?
Laura slept peacefully in the crib, oblivious to the danger standing over her and watching her sleep.
Carmilla dragged her feet over to the bed and picked up one of the light fluffy pillows. It felt as if it were filled with lead. She then walked back over to the crib and held the pillow just inches above Laura's sleeping face.
"As much as I absolutely despise you... please know that I am truly sorry for this," Carmilla whispered to the sleeping infant before clenching her teeth together and preparing herself to smother the child. She stood there for a moment before changing her mind and withdrawing the pillow. She went over to the rocking chair and sat in it, watching Laura sleep. "Elle would never forgive me..."
Carmilla paused.
"But my parents... It's for them. Everything I've done up until now has been for them," Carmilla whispered and sighed. "Including my refusal to move on and live like a decent human being."
Carmilla stopped to think a bit.
"But then again... I am not human."
Carmilla drew in a deep breath and crept downstairs to sneak some of the 'secret' liquor stash Elle had in the house. She thought Carmilla didn't know about it, but as always, Carmilla knew everything.
She popped the cork out of a wine bottle and guzzled it before making her way back upstairs. She took her place in the rocking chair and lit a cigarette, smoking and thinking about what she was going to do about Elle. She already knew she had to kill Laura. It was just a matter of when. But with Elle, she could either keep her alive or kill her out of mercy. She hadn't decided yet. Unfortunately, the cigarette she'd chosen had burned the fastest out of any she'd ever had, and she put it out once it'd finished.
She sighed, picked the pillow back up, and walked back over to Laura's crib. She took another deep breath as she positioned herself and held the pillow just above Laura's face once again.
"I hope I find you later in life next time," she sincerely told the sleeping baby. Her voice was soured by an apologetic tone. "I truly am sorry for this."
And with that, she pressed the pillow into the baby's face and waited. Though only a few minutes had passed, the minutes felt like eternity. She only lifted the pillow when she heard the respirations stop, and she felt tears prickling behind her eyes. Just as the first tear rolled down her cheek, she realized there was a figure standing silently in the doorway. She turned to see Elle.
"How long have you been standing there?" Carmilla asked, keeping her voice even and hiding her face from the woman.
"Long enough to watch my baby die," Elle whispered hoarsely. Carmilla could only nod.
"I won't even bother with apologizing," Carmilla told her.
"I wouldn't want you to," Elle hollowly responded.
"Are you going to turn me in?" Carmilla asked. She showed no signs of fear.
"Are you going to kill me too?" Elle countered.
Carmilla closed her eyes and focused on her breathing for a few seconds.
"Do you want me to?" she whispered.
"If you did... how would you do it?" Elle asked. "Would you smother me too?"
Carmilla shook her head.
"I'd poison you," she answered honestly. "At breakfast. Tomorrow. Before you even realized that Laura wasn't sleeping. I'd poison you so that you'd still be beautiful."
Elle stood silently, processing the fact that Carmilla had referred to Helen as 'Laura'.
"I still hadn't decided if I would fake your suicide and string you up or set the entire place ablaze yet," Carmilla admitted. "But that's how I'd have done it."
Elle nodded.
"But I'm giving you the choice now. Do you want me to murder you too?"
"What makes you think that if I say no, I won't tell the police about you?"
"They would never find me," Carmilla told her vehemently, and somehow Elle knew she was right. "Do you want to be murdered or not?"
"You have taken everyone from me," Elle whispered. "You took Helen, and in doing so, you took yourself. The image I had of you. So what do I have to lose?"
Carmilla had no response.
"But I do have one question for you," Elle continued. "Who is Laura?"
"Sit," Carmilla stated, gesturing to the rocking chair. Elle stepped into the room and sat down as instructed. Carmilla sat cross-legged on the floor, both of them ignoring the infant's corpse still lying in the crib. "I was eighteen—"
"You are eighteen."
"I am. But I was eighteen in the year 1698 too," Carmilla explained. "And I did a bad thing. I sneaked out of the house to go to some party. Danced with some guy. He bit me. I hadn't even heard of vampires then, but even if I had... I wouldn't have believed in them."
Elle listened quietly. Carmilla could see the tears rolling down her cheeks, and she wanted so badly to wipe them, but she was past that now.
"He turned me that night. And I returned home, in a daze, not truly understanding what'd happened to me," Carmilla went on. "I returned home to find my parents dead. Some stupid girl my age had murdered them because we'd taken her family's land. I didn't know we did that. But ever since then, I swore that I would kill her every time she was reborn into a new body. And I have killed her ever since. She was Laura."
"So we never get to heaven?" Elle asked. Carmilla shrugged.
"I honestly don't know what happens after you die," she replied. "I just know what happens when you die."
"Do you fear death?"
"I do not," Carmilla responded. "I do not have a soul, so even if I were to die tonight, I would never be punished in hell."
Elle nodded.
"May I say a prayer?" she asked Carmilla. "For my own sake?"
Carmilla nodded, and Elle began mumbling to herself. Once she'd finished, she looked back down at Carmilla.
"Might I make one more request?" Elle asked. "Would you continue with your plan and kill me tomorrow morning? At breakfast?"
"Why?"
"So I might pretend everything is okay, and that we might sleep in the same bed one last time."
Carmilla didn't understand why Elle had reacted the way she did or why she was saying the things she was saying, but she didn't complain. She only nodded silently and let Elle lead her back to the bedroom. She watched as Elle climbed back into bed before following suit.
They lay there and Carmilla told herself not to fall asleep in case Elle would try to escape. But even then, she was soon fast asleep.
And in the morning, Elle was still in bed, her eyes wide open.
"How was your sleep, Carmilla?"
"Fine," Carmilla muttered, still confused by Elle's actions. "Yours?"
"Peaceful."
Carmilla hesitated before asking, "Why're you doing this? Why didn't you scream or cry or try to get away?"
"I did cry," Elle answered calmly. "Last night. And I know that I have no escape. Just as you said the police would never find you, I would never be able to escape. I know that now."
Carmilla stared at her.
"Breakfast?" Elle asked, switching the subject. Carmilla nodded, and the two of them made their way downstairs to the kitchen. "You broke my heart, Carmilla."
"I was afraid you'd say that," Carmilla sighed, grabbing a carton of eggs and turning the gas stove on.
"If I weren't about to die, I'd tell you that I'd never forgive you."
"I assumed that much," Carmilla nodded again. "Eggs?"
"Please."
"Did it at least bother you?"
"It did," Carmilla admitted, pouring the egg directly into the pan and listening to it sizzle. "This one was the hardest."
"That's good, I suppose..." Elle murmured.
"Why is that?" Carmilla asked, flipping the egg.
"You're closer to feeling."
Carmilla turned off the stove.
"I have felt before."
"You haven't," Elle argued as Carmilla put the egg onto a plate. "You've spent centuries as a cold-blooded killer. You had no remorse, and you still don't."
"I do—"
"You'll probably seek this Laura out again as soon as I'm gone," Elle interrupted, watching Carmilla sprinkle the egg with salt. "Isn't that right?"
"I don't know," Carmilla answered, placing the egg in front of her.
"What, no drink? Are you an animal?" Elle snidely remarked as she cut a piece off the egg and took her first bite. Carmilla sighed and grabbed a glass before going over to the refrigerator. She took some ice cubes out of a tray, and turned on the faucet to fill the glass. She the set the glass down in front of Elle with force.
"Happy?"
Elle didn't answer; she only raised the glass to her lips and drank.
"Look, I'm not exactly happy about this," Carmilla tried to say. It seemed like a lame thing to say once it left her mouth. She stared at Elle's reflection in the glass.
"Clearly," Elle responded flatly. She pointed at the egg with her fork and asked, "How soon does this kick in?"
Carmilla didn't answer, and Elle took another bite and raised her eyebrows, growing impatient with Carmilla.
"It's nearly instantaneous," Carmilla informed her at last, still staring at Elle's reflection. "Within a few minutes at the most. It depends—"
"I didn't even see you put it in," Elle continued as she chewed. She sounded anxious.
"It's not in the egg," Carmilla finally told her, raising her gaze to Elle's eyes. Elle stared at the glass in front of her.
"You got this water straight from the tap," Elle argued, taking another sip. "I saw you."
"The ice, Elle..." Carmilla whispered. Elle swallowed quickly. "The poison is released as it melts. That's why I said it depends—it depends on how fast the ice melts and how fast the target drinks it."
"B-But... you made those ice cubes weeks ago."
"I did," Carmilla nodded. "Everything I've done so far has been premeditated. Even agreeing to babysit."
Elle sat and struggled to process the information, both because it was a hard thing to swallow and because her brain was already dying.
"You truly are a monster," she quietly commented.
"I know," Carmilla answered emotionlessly before watching Elle fall from her chair, dead.
