Chapter Text
It is funny, I think, when people tell me that they believe that Laura was my beloved. Ha! As if! Why, the very idea is rot! That girl was a fool! An imbecile! All she ever was to me was a life force, extra potent merely because of the bloodline she shared with me. But no, I never felt any love for her. She was only ever a pet, a toy, an amusement. She was no beloved of mine! Perhaps I did care for her a little, once upon a time, but it wasn't nearly as much as you think it was. Instead, it really was the way one viewed a servant. She was lovely and sweet and delicate, just the way I liked, but she carried no real substance. She was nothing to me. She was only ever special in the regard that she escaped my clutches and published a tale about our time together. Had that book never been written, she would've been no more to me than her cousin or all the other young women with her blood that I had seduced over the centuries.
It really does amuse me that you humans think so highly of us. Does it please you, perhaps, to assume that we were lovers? Does it fulfill some strange fantasy within your minds to tell yourself that she and I were lovers? Or perhaps, is it merely because she wrote an epic love story about us that you assume we certainly had to be lovers. Perhaps I noticed her interests and perhaps I toyed with her emotions, but I assure you that I felt nothing more for her than what a man might feel for a woman at a bar. In addition, I know she was merely confused. There was no true feeling on her part either. At least, not the way she thought. Perhaps her attractions to me were real in that they were felt, but would they have lasted? No. I think not. There was far too much innocence within her. She would have never stayed by me had she known! She was simply curious. I was not.
So for all of you foolish people out there who believe that she was my beloved, I assure you she was not. She was no more special than any of them were. The only decent one I ever met was a couple decades prior to Ms. Laura. That woman was something special. She had a head on her shoulders that Laura did not. She was far smarter, stronger, braver and resourceful than my Laura. She nearly figured out my secrets and actually fought me to the death. A well-fought battle if I ever saw one! and from a woman, no less! She had been brilliant! Laura was not. Laura was a fool. An innocent, naive, idiot who didn't see what was right in front of her. That other woman was not. She knew and she flirted with it before ultimately fighting against it. I have yet to meet anybody as fiery as her which is both a pleasure and a disappointment. Paradoxical, I know.
But perhaps someday I will meet somebody again who will give me a challenge that I have not seen since. Somebody far more invigorating that Laura who was no different than the long line of other senseless, stupid girls I so easily manipulated. I just hope for your sake that my next "beloved" is not you. But if it is, please, do challenge me! Don't do what all the others did and sit idly by, making the game boring. I want you to find out. I want you to learn. I want you to fight. It makes things so much more interesting for me and it makes my victory all the sweeter!
Notes:
AN: This was just meant to subvert the old "Laura is Carmilla's true love" thing because we technically don't know if that's true. All we get is Laura's side of the story and she's certainly not a reliable narrator. Instead, this story switches things up and writes Carmilla in a darker and more "Prince Hans" light where she confesses she never loved Laura and, instead, only liked to feed off of her goodwill because, let's face it, book!Laura is basically 1870s Bella Swan. At best, Carmilla says that her capacity to love here is low and if you do want to be one of the girls she actually likes as a person, you'd better have a wit to rival her own and, please, don't be a Laura!
Chapter Text
"Love will have its sacrifices. No sacrifice without blood."
That is what I told them. How bitterly true those words turned out to be. For centuries, I had roamed this accursed world, looking for power, fortune, notoriety, pleasure, revenge… blood. But never love. At least not until I met her.
Oh, I had seduced countless girls in my day and I had intended to do the same with her, but something was different about her. There was something new and unique about her. Yet she also reminded me so much of all my other victims. Perhaps it was this delicate balance of familiarity and newness that drew me to her so much.
How it went was simple. I tricked her into falling in love with me and I used her for a time. Next, I was supposed to dispose of her when I grew tired of her, but that was when I changed. I had never imagined growing genuinely interested and invested in her, but that is exactly what happened. I fell more in love with her every single day. Now, I know that happy endings don't really exist, but I must say that this girl had marked me in a way nothing else ever had. Not even the Other Girl…
The Other Girl was a girl from centuries past. She had been beautiful, shy, sweet and kind. Her specialness stemmed not from any of these qualities, however. Instead, it stemmed from her response to me. As with all my other victims, I seduced her and she did react with the initial fear and disgust I had come to expect and even enjoy, but then, as time went on, I sensed a change in her and she began not only to enjoy my advances, but she began to return them. She was the first to ever do so and I had never been more in love than in that moment. I even planned on joining us together in eternity, that was how strong my love for her was! But then it all fell apart.
She discovered my true nature too soon and the rest of her family did likewise. When her family learned the truth, they came to destroy me. For a time, they had succeeded, but I managed to come back. Alas, I was still too late. The door to eternity with her had been shut from me forever. She would hate me now and although I would've rather have her come to death hating me than not coming at all, I was unable to complete my work. It was like something inside me knew that even if it was possible for me to achieve my goal, it would no longer make me happy the way it once did. So instead of harming her further, I decided only to keep silent vigil over her until she passed, which I knew would be soon.
It was during this waiting period that I discovered how deep her specialness really ran. She already had two counts now, being the first girl to ever return my affections and being the first person to ever survive my wrath and defeat me so soundly. I learned of a third count over the few years I watched over her before she died. It went like this: although I visited her every day (I was the light footstep at the drawing room door), I could not afford to stay with her for all that long. Because of that, I had not realized that she had written a story about me until after she had published it. It came as a great surprise to me to find out that my dear heart had written about me and I made great haste to find a copy of the manuscript for myself. I had never read anything so intently except for Monsieur Buffon's big book.
I found the writing to be touching, if confused. It seemed that, even now, after all I did to her, she still love me because her story spoke fondly of me and it had the grace to keep some of the secrets that we shared. The girl in question passed not long after publishing this story, having withered away pining for me. That was the third special thing about her. She loved me even unto death as I hoped, going as far as writing a book to explain this. Alas, I was still too late to truly unite with her as I had wanted.
So, for about a century more, I roamed the world and seduced several new victims, but not a single one was quite like her. In fact, her original manuscript became my most treasured possession. At least until now. The girl whose story I relate to you now is the one consider far greater than even my Other Girl. But sadly, she suffered a similar fate. I tell her tale only because she passed before she could pen hers. In addition, I see it as an opportunity to tell my own story beside hers and shed some light on who I am. Beware, however, that the name I use in this story is not the same the old girl used. As cruel fate would have it, however, her name remained the same. The girl of this story shares the name of the girl before: Laura. As for my name? Callmira.
Notes:
AN: My teacher wanted us to write an into to a story so this is just basically a Carmilla sequel set in modern day and narrated by Carmilla (who survives Vordenberg's attack). In it, we learn that while she did love Laura, the girl whose story she is about to tell was her true Great Love because, in all honesty, we never do find out if Carmilla actually loves Laura or not because the story is told by Laura and she doesn't know either. This intro is to a story that would've flipped the whole "Laura is Carmilla's true love" thing on its head and said "No. She was one of Carmilla's more beloved victims but she was far from the best!" Instead, it would've been this girl who, spoiler alert, dies as well, hence why Carmilla is narrating.
UKULELEWRITER on Chapter 2 Sat 07 Apr 2018 04:59PM UTC
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Irhaboggle on Chapter 2 Sat 07 Apr 2018 05:17PM UTC
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UKULELEWRITER on Chapter 2 Sat 07 Apr 2018 05:23PM UTC
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Irhaboggle on Chapter 2 Sun 08 Apr 2018 02:27AM UTC
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