"I mean, they say that after a while you just forget stuff," Laura shrugged as she pulled on her pajamas. "Do you remember everything or how does it work with vampires?"
Carmilla slid under the covers. "I guess whatever I've forgotten is just gone."
"I didn't mean it like that, I know my grandparents forget things over time, even my dad does and he's not that old. LaF reminds Perry and J.P. of stuff all the time." Laura climbed in next to her. "You should write down what you remember."
Carmilla pondered the idea and kissed her cheek while her wife cuddled into her. Carmilla closed her eyes to listen to her slow deep breaths until she finally slumped against her side, Laura's arms instinctively wrapped around her. It almost broke Karnstein to think about how much they had been through only for her to possibly forget their time together if her humanity didn't end up working out. Even though only a year had passed since her heart started beating again, she couldn't see a difference in her face or skin like other humans. She still looked like that eighteen-year-old getting presented in Holy Rome's Vienna.
After she gave up on her sleep that night, Carmilla slipped from her wife's grasp. She stole an empty journal from their desk along with one of Laura's nicer pens. She crept from the bedroom to their kitchen and flicked on a low light where she pondered how to even begin. She unclicked the pen and closed her eyes while she put her memories in order.
Looking back on my life everything flashes by too fast for me to truly recall. Every time I focus on a moment, it instantly connects to another and I blend them together into a Frankenstein's monster that I can't always make sense of. From my life as a human, I look back and I see just how simple it all was. My childhood, or what was considered one with my status at that time was full of lessons with my siblings to make me a well-rounded wife to marry off. I recall the little power I had in turning down suitors - which I always did. I'd find any reason no matter how minor and being so young, my parents didn't find it concerning. I was the youngest, they had no reason to be concerned with my future status as my brothers and sister married up.
I do recall my birth mother accusing me at times of being fickle but as I grew older, she found that her words had little influence over me. Instead, she chose to introduce me to court, hoping I could happen upon someone in our social circle. We started small at parlors in Austria but when I proved too critical of our peers at home, she began taking me across Europe. They always left with a new suitor to contact and I have no regrets about letting them down or outright rejecting their calls. My cousins made a game about it and I played along until one of them introduced me to one of their private parlors. It was there I learned who I was and they taught me how to safely be amorous. I took advantage of the trips away from home and found ways to distract whomever my guardian was to have fun.
An adventure I remember fondly occurred in France, 1697, as a seventeen-year-old too confident for herself. It was a Christmas party at the Château de Versailles. People crowded the palace and spoke loudly over the music and entertainment. Food lined the grand tables until they covered the ornate details artists spent months adding. Everyone dressed their best including servants who wore pure white garments that glowed against the heavenly lights.
My family represented the Austro-Holy Roman Empire that night but I felt all too overwhelmed by the whole experience. While I was well-versed in popular events, I had never been to something as busy as that. I soon got lost in the hall of mirrors. The crystal chandeliers that hung low in the room glittered across the ground as the sun set, reflecting in the tall mirrors to paint unique oranges, pinks, and reds across the room as temporary wallpaper.
I walked through the halls of the Château where I took time to appreciate the golden statues in all of their glory. I took in their anatomical detail and imagined how skilled the artists must have been to even be considered for this opportunity. Every inch of the palace from floor to ceiling was lined with signs of immeasurable riches that their guests yearned for, despite their political leanings. There is no tour now that could truly paint a picture of how glamorous the parties were.
Everyone was lively, no matter what mood they entered the party in. There was an immense spirit of hope that filled everyone and deadly secrets filled the air and hid in the walls. Every meticulous detail was indescribable as if the architect knew how to distract the eye from any awkward conversation between diplomats.
I recall running into someone whom I fervently apologized to only to come face to face with a glorious woman who had the most intoxicatingly perfect grey-blue eyes. She had a strong and fierce look that truly took me aback. In her hair were velveteen flowers of violet and gold tucked perfectly in braids tucked into a bun that matched her dress perfectly. Through her impenetrable aura, she also looked vulnerable and shaken by our sudden meeting.
"You look too afraid," she suavely recovered in French, "I take no offense." She took a sip from her glass and glanced around the room. "Is this your first party?"
"At this palace, yes."
"Who do you represent?"
"Austria."
"Ah, so you are a representative of the Holy Roman Empire," she assumed. The way she looked at me was offputting yet all the same endearing as I felt paralyzed by her warm gaze. She finally teased, "Are you a lost puppy?"
"I guess so."
"What do they call you?"
"Mircalla, Reichsgräfin of Styria. What about yourself?"
"I am Anne, Princess of Denmark. I could introduce you to some people I know," she offered to my pathetic attempt at following Western etiquette. "Play a bit of politics while the night is young?"
"I don't believe I should. My guardian should be in charge of those interactions."
"Being royal is all about politics. In time it will become your duty, why not learn sooner rather than later." She led me to the far wall of the hall of mirrors. We kept our backs close to the intricate frames while she tried to find something to show me. "Do you see the royal in red by the drinks? He is a Duke of Beja from Portugal. The other man he's speaking with is the Lord of Biscay of Spain. Over there," she pointed at my eye level, "is almost all of the French Court cornering a Boyar of Russia. Oh my, watch, a Prince from Latvia is making his way to them," she snickered.
"How do you think this will go?"
"We'll have to wait and see."
"What is their history?"
"Well, being on opposite sides of Europe, the biggest problem they have with one another is trading rights but Latvia and Russia, well, that is something entirely else."
"Do you think they will make an argument?"
"No, but what happens after tonight is up for debate."
"What do you mean?"
Anne set her now empty glass on a passing server's tray. "Why create gossip in front of the world and seem… common, when one could simply have a professional fight behind closed doors?"
"You are quick to judge on royal conduct."
"Well, I have a few more years of experience over you. I know you meant that as a compliment, though. If I were you, I would focus a bit harder on your French lessons, darling."
I was so timid in her presence. As experienced as I was in this world and with women like her, there was something so intimidating about her that I couldn't shake. Whether it was her power, her beauty, or her spirit, I felt helpless and unnatural by her side. I knew she could read me clearer than I wanted and there was no way to leave the company of such an important person.
"Your French," she proceeded. "It is fine, but more practice would do you wonders."
She had the gall to criticize my third language and no less over the prying company of my peers. Even from my influential home, I looked weak by her side and it made me indignant. I was young and couldn't hide my fire and she fed off of my flames like the devil. Anne smiled down at me as she dangled her power of the interaction over me.
"Would you care if I stole you away for a moment?"
My words caught in my throat and I found my head nodding along to her advice. She swept me away, her hand initially at my elbow before it eventually slipped down my arm to my hand. We passed maids and servants who busily worked the event and paid us no mind. Anne brought me to her room and I finally found my voice in the cold vacant chamber.
"My French is fine enough. You understand me, why do you mock me so?"
"I have heard of your fire, Reichsgräfin Mircalla," she admitted.
I wondered how such as woman could know me like that. In my tight-knit circle, I had never been recognized in such a way. I felt embarrassed and infuriated, oddly enough. I wanted to protect myself but she had a way of making people feel vulnerable in a way I had never experienced. I wanted something I just did not need, she made me feel safe and caught in the high of our conversation and excitement from the party we collided.
Being seen by a familiar gave us both the confidence to act upon the whimsical beauty of the night. She was so quick with expert fingers that beat the deftness of my hands. Anne was more assertive about what she wanted. She grabbed me tightly by my wrists to keep them at my side while she undressed me. Despite what she had heard, she wanted me off my game.
I couldn't just give that up, though.
Anne laid kisses across my neck and chest which left red marks from her makeup. When she focused back on my lips, I pushed her harshly against the standing wardrobe to get an edge over her. The clattering of the wood and wall briefly shocked her and gave me time to unhook her chestpiece. Her clothes quickly bunched and gathered on the floor. Anne pushed back but I kept her flush with the freezing furniture which spread goosebumps across her pale skin.
Not that I'd criticize someone who is actually alive and happily with me, but Anne was unique in her charisma and obnoxiously endearing personality that budded with me perfectly at that time. I was so hot-headed and she knew how to push my buttons. We would crash into each other and spiral into another night full of spite and fun. I tried to keep up with her over the next year, using the cover of traveling and tutoring to cover what we did behind closed doors. We played a dangerous game and I soon became a pawn in treaties I had no idea about. As furious as I am now to learn of her intrusive tactic of diplomacy, I wouldn't trade a shred of that time with her. Not even my final night as a living human.
That evening is burned into my brain more than anything else including recent events in my life. I remember getting tied into my dress speckled with indigo accents and pearls, meant to look richer than they were, sewn into the collar by a seamstress Anne sent my way. My father was unable to attend that party so I was left alone for the first time with only our maid and groom. It was a silent ride without good company, but the promise of being given the opportunity and trust to represent my family made me feel proud to be a Karnstein for the first time. Once we arrived, I found Anne in the foyer at the top of the staircase. She was announced by the herald and descended with such well-practiced grace and confidence no one else in my circles of the Holy Roman Empire mirrored.
I waited patiently to pull her aside, to the minor shock and impression of the other Holy Roman representatives. She seemed shocked at my presence which subsided quickly to match my amorous inclination. Anne took my hand once again to escape further down the corridor.
"If I had known you would be attending, I would have worn something else," she insinuated. "I'm still working on my German, George thinks I'm doing so for William."
"How is it?"
"I don't know, it's embarrassing."
"I'll try not to laugh."
"Okay. Du bist so hübsch. Sobald wir uns versteckt haben, werde ich deine kleidung abreißen."
"Just meine dress?"
Anne played with my jaw before she finally kissed me.
I let her hands wander their usual route but in the less-than-private corridor, I asked, "Was ist, wenn uns jemand erwischt?"
"What if someone what?"
"Finds us."
Anne soothed me with a shake of her head and continued to kiss and bite my lip to shut me up until she was called away. She pressed her full body weight against me as she decided whether or not to answer back. Anne stole a lingering kiss.
"I will be back, I promise."
"I'll let you find me first," I offered.
She pressed one more bruising kiss against my lips and went back down the hallway. I watched her escape to the festivities as I righted myself and followed a while after. In a moment to catch my breath, I found myself in darkness, I stuck close to the wall, gazing at the massive portraits along the hallway of the manor's past occupants. I found the way to my family's room to spot a figure on my bed.
"Mircalla?" they asked in a falsely curious voice.
"Yes?"
"I thought you would come by at some point," they explained. I kept my distance as I waited for them to identify themself. "Nothing to say?"
"Who are you?"
They stood, a shadow of intimidation as they approached me. I could tell by her features and in her voice she had a feminine tone as she swiftly closed the door in an inhumanly fluid movement. "A shadowy gift."
I turned to face her again but felt a rough hand wrap harshly around my arm to tug me against their frozen body. I was too shocked to pull away and even when I did, I couldn't break her vice grip. The moment went by as an eon as she pulled back a thin veil. I could only make out her white teeth in the glistening moonlight that cracked through the curtain before she wrapped her hand around my throat where she sank her nails deep into my neck. As she punctured my neck, I could feel her teeth quickly cover the gash she had created, and searing hot blood trickled into my dress. I could taste the vulgar iron of my blood slowly filling my throat as she sank her teeth even deeper into my skin until it felt like she could tear my flesh off. An indescribable sensation shot through my body with white-hot pain from my neck tearing down my arteries and into my heart as her venom overtook my body.
In mere seconds I fainted only to awaken sick to my stomach in an unfamiliar room where a dark figure I initially mistook for my assailant watched me unwavering like a statue. She approached a vision of beauty that rivaled those I spent my nights away from home with. Her skin was darker than I had ever seen and as she knelt before me, I couldn't help by feel entranced by her.
"Welcome, Countess Mircalla," she greeted. When I tried to move, she held me in place with a firm hand. "I am Matska."
"What is this? My head's spinning."
"You will feel like that for a while," she calmly explained.
"Where am I?"
"In a safe place where you can learn your new duties."
"Do my parents know?"
"They believe you to be dead, which is for the better."
"Dead. How long was I asleep?"
"Longer than most."
I couldn't understand then, but I had been under for months. "What in the world?"
Matska knelt beside me to wrap a kindred arm around my shoulder. "I am sorry for your loss of mortality, but you have been reborn."
"What do you mean?"
"You have been given a second chance at life as a vampire."
"What do you mean?"
"You are undead after an attempt made on your life. I know this is a lot to take in, so I will be back."
Matska let me rest, so I took a moment to look at myself in a mirror across the room. My new self was paler than before and completely emaciated. My hair had gone sleek from months of oil and my eyes were brilliant red. I looked like the devil incarnate and felt terrified of what my second life created. Matska soon returned.
"I can only imagine how hungry you must be, so I've brought you something," she tempted me.
In her hands was a goblet full of an enticing liquid which gave off an overwhelming aroma that I couldn't resist. I hungrily took it from her and downed it before I could control myself. It was sweet and glistened in the midday sun. I couldn't help myself and satiating my initial thirst only made me want more. I licked my hands clean and pushed the contents into my mouth until I had consumed it all. There was nothing like that first drink. As I became more killed, my tastes became refined but that first meal is something I have never truly matched in my centuries of existence.
"Will my eyes turn back?" I asked.
"After your first kill, yes."
"I don't want to kill anyone."
She nodded but segued, "You aren't confined to this room, but I would stay in the house until nightfall."
"Thank you Matska," I called after her.
"Mattie," she corrected before she left me.
Initially, I had no control over myself. I thirsted for anything that moved or breathed. For months, Matska would correct and teach me how to ignore the temptation. As I gained any sense of self-control, she would take me out on tests where I finally got to see where I had been taken.
We walked through the rich streets of Soizbuag where she brought me down the streets in dark alleys. I spent most nights counting the passersby to busy myself.
"Stop tempting yourself," Matska reminded me. "Look at the shops and lights. The more you look at people, the more you'll want to feed, trust me."
I nodded and tried to follow her advice. While we were stopped at a cobbler's shop, I was taken by a young woman working in the back. I could smell her sweat from the counter and my eagle eyes captured the intoxicating pulse from her neck while she hammered away at a pair of shoes. The door closed, to the woman's surprise, and Matska nudged me.
"Stop, they work for us." Once the shopkeeper disappeared, she continued. "We'll find you a target tonight, okay? After rounds."
"I don't know why, I'm not hungry at all but I just want to feed."
Matska nodded, "It's normal, your body wants more than what we're giving you."
"I'm sorry," I apologized as the shopkeeper returned.
She paid him, "I know, don't make me sorry."
I silently promised her and waited patiently. The thought of killing was something I couldn't appreciate that early, I was like a child. I had seen my parents and peers sentence people to death but I had never been the hand or voice who ensured it. Matska paid the cobbler so we could go back to our apartment. Again, she tested me on the walk back by steering me towards hoards of drunk humans, with bodies rank with alcohol but all the same sweet to my new nose. She watched my mixed reactions and impossible restraint with a smile that made me feel tortured until we got home.
"I have a surprise for you, my dear," she enticed me. "I always keep my nose out for news of battles and sieges and I may have found you a chance to earn your right in Tønning. I know it's a long way from home, but it's worth it and our carnage will blend in with the rest."
She brought me to the back door and we transformed to make it to the bloody field. From Austria, we tore through the dark villages and countryside, traveling over hills and past mountains until I followed the flock of crows to a rank smell emitting from the burning city of Tønning. I recall the horrendous smoke and metal that covered the smell of death. We hid in the shadows far from the Saxon camp.
"I want you to go feral, Carmilla," she encouraged me. "I will stop you if you go too far. Are you ready?"
I nodded as another shell hit the city walls and followed Matska into the heat of battle. Everything rushed past me as we delved into the violence and carnage. She led me to the bloodiest part of the battle where everything would be too confusing for the soldiers to remember. I pounced on one man clad in Saxon garb and tore out his throat, blood pouring from his body in a glorious geyser where I fed until he couldn't bleed anymore.
I moved on to another man, tackling him from behind for another kill without thought. My hunger and patience paid off with the gift of fresh kills that filled me with carnal rage. My mind rushed with excitement even as I became a target, but in the mess of battle, I couldn't care less about their threats and attacks, they just became another snack.
Only a few minutes passed until I felt satiated and slunk back into the woods where I waited to heal from my wounds until Matska returned. When she did, her crows collided and she appeared from them a bloody mess with a wide grin on her face. We laughed in our drunken fever and rested in the glades until the buzz of our massacre finally subsided.
She turned to me, "How do you feel?"
"Happy. I didn't think I would be able to say something like that, but I feel amazing!"
"This is why I attack in massacres, there's nothing more exhilarating!" She wiped the blood from her mouth and rested on the plush grass again. "We'll go back home in a while, I'll let you hunt a bit more if you'd like, just let me know."
"Is there a catch to you?" I asked.
"What do you mean?"
"You're training me, but what for?"
She turned on her side again and deeply considered divulging that information. "There is a catch to Mother but not to me, no. Every twenty years we must participate in a sacrifice to protect the world from falling into utter chaos. I know vampires and other creatures like us are painted as deadly monsters but we have reasons for our actions."
"Is it worth it?"
"Yes and in turn, we are rewarded with immortality."
I don't know why, looking back, that was comforting, but the promise of life was comforting. A part of me wishes I had escaped their grasp but I understand now how vital my role was as depraved as it was. It was after that massacre I met Mother, the intimidating figure who turned me for her own gain. I had no other family besides Matska and there was no reason to leave.
As the century quickly came and went, I became a star in supernatural high society. Countess Mircalla Karnstein had long since passed and a new ever-evolving vampire rose in her place. Her innocent features became dark and nihilistic and I don't know if I could recognize my human self now. I thought life was easy with constant hunting and partying that led to grand feasts that gave me the chance to play and take on skills more akin to what my new duties were. There were galas every night with new people for me to meet and learn from but I was disheartened when 1714 arrived and I was privy to my first sacrifice. Matska and Mother took me to Silas where we stayed in a grand palace alongside other ancient beings tasked with protecting and being privy to the curse of protecting the world.
The building's foyer was crowded and a massive bonfire took place outside of the manor where all forms of debauchery took place. I quickly got lost again and felt overwhelmed as the memories from nearly two decades past returned in all of their glory. The night I died plagued my mind even with the joyous attendees and promise of not getting assassinated this time.
"What is such a cute creampuff such as yourself doing here alone on such a glorious night?" a soothing voice asked over the noise.
I turned to face another impossibly beautiful woman whose stomach was bare in a risque display paired with very little clothing covering her lower half. She had a sinister, yet inviting, smile I couldn't resist.
"I have never been here, it's a lot," I admitted. "I guess I don't know what to do?"
She held out her hand, "Then let me show you."
"I don't even know your name."
"Nanaya."
"My name-"
"Mircalla, I know, I know everyone, sweetie."
I took her hand and she led me deeper into the hoard of sweaty dancing creatures of the night by the bonfire. Beating drums echoed in my chest and accessory instruments filled my ears while an air of ecstasy overtook my emotions. Nanaya began dancing to the pagan music like the commoners I would see in the villages my odd family ravaged.
She took my hands but she soon wandered to my shoulders until our bodies were too close together. Nanaya's eyes were suddenly even more entrancing than I had perceived and I let her take the lead. I tried to copy her practiced movements but it all felt too awkward and I was too high to know what I was doing. She was quick to pull herself close enough for her knee to find its way between my legs.
From the heat of the fire and our intimate contact, I began to sweat. Her hands had managed to find their way to my waist and I hungrily kissed her. During my time with Lilita and Matska, I hadn't been allowed this kind of intimacy between learning how to flirt and manipulate virgins to sacrifice and hiding from my failures.
Everything I had suppressed I let free. Her firm grip was enthralling and I didn't want to pull away but in an instant, I felt the outermost layer of my skirt get torn from the seams of my dress which gave her a chance to add more pressure.
I don't recall the exact specifics after that moment, it was an exhilarating blur that ended when Matska pulled me from the bonfire at the end of the night.
"It was fun while it lasted," Nanaya grinned with a final kiss.
My sister fumed at the interaction, "Don't trust the creatures here. I normally hunt, it's more invigorating on this night."
"What is she?"
"An ancient one who throws the event with Mother."
That final memory overwhelmed Carmilla and she turned out the kitchen light to join her wife in bed. Looking back over her early years felt odd and as she looked at Laura, she couldn't help but feel fulfilled in her control and mistakes.