At least a little bit of action starts here. Don't worry, real character interactions will start soon.
On another note, I'm surprised how quickly the Carmilla fandom emptied out after S3 wrapped up. I'm not talking about my lack of reviews (that's because nothings really happened yet I assume), but just in general how quickly things dried up. I suppose a lot of people didn't even make it to S3.
Laura waited.
But her captor never came.
She sat there upon the floor, watching as the wan light creeping under the door slowly faded to blackness. Hours passed, though she had no way to tell how many. It was honestly shocking to realize that whatever had kidnapped her had no interest in facing her. Not to interrogate her, not to gloat, not even just to check in.
"Maybe tomorrow. Wait a minute! Stay focused. This means I can probably escape. Now I know that I can probably chisel free uninterrupted."
The tiny girl tried to keep herself on track. She even tried to set to work on the project of chipping free. But after so many boring hours of waiting, and of course her run through the mountains earlier that day, she was simply unaware just how tired her body was.
Laura Hollis fell asleep.
She woke up the next morning, if the return of her small shaft of light was any indication.
After a brief ritual of yawning, stretching, and dearly wishing for a toothbrush and a shower she was about to set to work on her escape plan when she noticed something new in the cabin.
Her laptop computer.
There it was, sitting right in the middle of the floor. Comfortably within reach of her shackle.
"Why? Why on earth would my kidnapper give me my laptop? Not just leave it, but actually deliver it to me? Are they going to come here to explain? Do they expect me to do something with it?"
Laura pondered many questions. Ultimately, she concluded that the only way to figure this out was by checking out the computer itself.
She sat down and cautiously opened the laptop.
"No sort of trap on the machine itself. That's a good sign I suppose."
She booted up the computer. Obviously, the first thing she noticed was that the Internet (and Silas aethernet) was not working.
"Big surprise out here deep in the mountains."
Of course that made the laptop useless for contacting help. Ultimately, the only thing she could use it for now would be to pass the time. She began to check the files for any clue why her kidnapper brought it to her in the first place.
"Nothing. There's nothing here. What on earth is going on?"
Eventually though, Laura did notice something slightly different. Her shortcuts (which she never used anyway) had all been removed except one: Her webcam program.
"Why would they want me to use that? I can't stream or upload it. Oh well, whatever."
Laura set up her computer to catch the most of what little light existed in the room. After a few adjustments and a half-hearted attempt to straighten her hair to a presentable level of neatness she started the computer's camera recording.
"Hello students of Silas, who will in all likelihood never see this. I seem to have been kidnapped. I have no clues as to the nature of my kidnapper other than the fact that they have given me this computer. So, since I have absolutely nothing better to do, I might as well record this."
She leaned back against the wall and loudly sighed.
"Which is a really stupid waste of time. I should probably try escaping instead."
Laura shut off the camera before rifling around pockets to find the rusty nail she had saved the day before. With a resigned groan she began the slow work of chipping away the worn, dusty wooden floor.
She knew the process would take hours. A single bent lump of marginally pointed rust was only barely better than useless for any sort of job let alone chiseling. The only reason it was even remotely functional was the equally sorry state the floor was in. So Laura chipped, scraped, dug, and chiseled until her fingertips bled from gripping the rough rusted metal so harshly. She knew she might regret it later, but only freedom mattered for now.
Dying rays of orange sunlight creeping under the door gently heralded the news that she had worked the entire day away. Laura decided to take a brief break, her body had broken a sweat despite the cool mountain air.
Sometime, an indeterminate length into the break (telling time in anything but the most general sense was impossible, obviously), the door swung open. Laura almost did not even react she was so stunned, before scrambling to her feet.
She was ready, eager even, to finally meet her captor; holding scant hope that this could be any sort of rescue instead. She stood at the ready, slipping the nail in her pocket in case things got ugly.
Instead of a person however, a bag sailed into the room through the open door and landed in the middle of the floor. Laura gasped and recoiled instinctively as the projectile thudded to the ground.
She quickly regained her composure and waited though, rather expecting the bag's launcher—or somebody at least—to follow. Her hopes of confrontation with her kidnapper were dashed however when the door closed, seemingly on its own even, thus denying her a look at so much as her captor's hand.
"Wait!" She broke down, sick of the helplessness of not even knowing why she was taken. The isolation even from her own captor.
"Please! Just come back. Gloat, pontificate on your greatness! Taunt me for being kidnapped! Just please do something!"
No response came. Not even the sound of departing footsteps.
Laura slumped down against the wall in defeat.
"Hey, imaginary viewers."
Laura smiled wanly to the camera, holding a cookie in her hand. The light of day once again streaming into the room through the cracks.
"So, still working on that escape, but apparently the kidnapper knows my favorite foods. I just got delivered a mystery bag yesterday. It contained, get this: Chocolate chip cookies, soy milk—the real stuff, not blood—a box of cocoa powder packets, and a package of dried apple slices."
She took a bite out of the cookie.
"This proves my captor knew about me at Silas." She declared enthusiastically.
"Which means absolutely nothing." She sighed in defeat. "I mean, I only got kidnapped escaping Silas after killing its Dean and the ancient horror living underneath it. That could totally be a coincidence, right?"
One sarcastic eye roll later. "Obviously they knew about me. But since I barely scratched the surface of ancient supernatural threats here, it could be anything. I never even had to have met it for something to be coming after me after that debacle. And considering Carm survived the bottom of the hole…"
A smile burst onto her face as she snapped her fingers in success.
"Will! He was creepy, hardly ever talked, and could easily have survived if Carm did. If anything crawled out of there looking for revenge I bet it was him. He hated Carm already and tried getting to her through me once, now he can try again without the threat of the Dean holding him back."
Laura looked invigorated with a lead to follow. In all truth, she was already aware that her leaps of logic were resting on a vague hunch with no evidence at all, but it felt right. Besides, she needed something to work with.
"If it is Will, then he won't do anything to me until he brings Carm here to see it. He never wanted any kind of revenge on me. Hell, he never even noticed me. All he wanted was to work out his mommy issues by getting Carmilla out of the way so he could be favorite. That means I've got at least some hope of rescue."
Laura stopped to think for a moment. Clearly something had invaded her train of thought.
"See me." She mumbled, mulling the phrase over like a mystery unto itself. "Unless he could make sure she sees me without ever coming at all. Like a recording of his revenge. An actual video diary of the love of her post-life being held captive, going mad, and eventually-!"
She cut off visibly paled.
"Well, either way it shouldn't matter. I can just use this." The tiny gay held up he rusty nail. "To escape. Which I shall resume doing right now."
Leaning forward with a dramatic flourish, she turned the camera off.
A visibly haggard Laura stared into the camera once more. A stifling darkness betrayed the fact that it was night once more.
"I, uh-" She started with an almost incoherent mumble before her voice almost immediately faded out.
Tears began to stream down her face. She wiped them off with her sleeve revealing scratched, bloody hands.
"The nail plan won't work." She tried again.
She reached out, grabbed the computer, and angled the camera at her shackle.
"A cement foundation. Somehow this awful little shack was built on a cement block."
True to her words, the shackle was firmly embedded into a gray slab. Scratch marks surrounded the spot where metal and stone met and the now warped and fully broken nail could be seen on frame, betraying the likely source of her damaged hands.
"Did Silas actually have a shack built just for holding prisoners? I could believe it at this point."
Laura looked slightly calmer for talking to the camera when she finally angled the computer back at her face.
"It's funny, nobody is actually watching this to help me, but I'm so used to doing these I actually almost feel like somebody could stumble on this and rescue me."
She gently chuckled. "Not happening this time. No Danny bursting in to save me here. No Carm either. I'm chained to a floor, and I need to escape what is probably an actual vampire entirely on my own."
With a sigh, she reached forward to turn the camera off.
"Well, I guess I'll sleep on that. Goodnight nonexistent-viewers."