Laura returned upstairs to the bedroom in which she'd found herself. The window was open, and the bed was somehow already neatly made, but she hadn't seen Carmilla go up to make it, and she did not remember ever having opened the window. She shrugged and then got down on her knees to peek under the bed. Other than her own things, the floor underneath was perfectly bare.

She stood up and went over to a dresser that looked like an antique. The surface was bare, but in mint condition, and when she tried the handle of the first drawer, she found that it was locked. She tried the rest of the handles, and all of the drawers attached to them were locked too. She sighed with frustration and scanned the room for anything else she could get her hands on. She spied the closet, and upon seeing that it was cracked open, she found herself smiling, pleased that the mysterious stranger hadn't locked that too.

She went over and opened the door to find a wardrobe consisting of mostly black and leather as well as several boxes and a few books that looked as old as ones she'd seen in museums. She picked up the first one, a green one, and thumbed through it, surprised to find that it was not written in English, but Latin.

MORS VINCIT OMNIA

Mala tempora currunt.

Magna di curant, parva neglegunt.

Laura squinted at the messy manuscript, but couldn't make anything more out. She put the book aside and picked up a red one.

IN MEMORIAM

Laura - Styria, Austria - strangled - 1698

Elizabeth - Yorkshire, England - slit wrists - 1720

Lea - Luxembourg, Belgium - beaten - 1744

Cristóbal - Madrid, Spain - mutilated - 1763

John - Middlesex, England - beheaded - 1792

Anja - Vienna, Austria - drowned - 1813

Sasha - St. Petersburg - poisoned - 1839

Margrit - Munich, Germany - suffocated - 1864

Laurence - Normandy, France - drained - 1888

Patricia - Verona, Italy - axed - 1902

Cassandra - Athens, Greece - stabbed - 1930

Helen - New York City - suffocated - 1932

1991

She stared at the first page in front of her as a chill went down her spine. The names, locations, causes of deaths, and years jumped out at her, and she wondered what the final year, 1991, meant. There was no name, no location, no nothing next to it. Only the year itself.

Hesitantly, she turned the page and found an entire passage about the first person on the list.

LAURA

killed my parents

i took her into the woods in search of a horse i did not have, and i beat her to the ground before choking the life out of her. she apologised, but i still killed her. i put her back home.

I truly am sorry for what I've done. And I realise now that... I made a huge mistake. A mistake... I will not... ever... be able... to fix. But my one wish... is that I... may have the opportunity to... make it up to you... in another life...Mircalla.

She began reading the next page about the next victim.

ELIZABETH

loved the fountain

met her there with her boyfriend, james. stabbed him, bled her out. she apologised as i waited for her to die.

Carmilla... I'm so sorry... Carmilla, please... no. No, no— How could you be so cold? How could you? I hope they catch you one day. I hope they hang you.

LEA

loved the forest.

beat her to death in her favourite clearing. wanted to feel her die by my bare hands. her last words were an apology. her blood was beautiful.

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry... Will that make it better? I'm so sorry that that happened to you. I wish I could change what happened so you wouldn't have to live like this. So I wouldn't have to die like this. I'm sorry.

Before Laura could look onto the next page, she heard a door downstairs close, alerting her that Carmilla had returned. She quickly closed the book, put the green one back on top of it as she'd found them, and closed the closet, making sure to leave it just as slightly open as it had been before.

She then made her way down the stairs to find Carmilla in the unlit kitchen, unbagging various grocery items and setting them on the table.

"You, uh... went grocery shopping?" Laura inquired. She could barely see the food labels in the dim light, but Carmilla didn't seem to have a problem.

"Yeah," Carmilla responded, never looking up.

"At this time in the afternoon?"

"Do you always question people's shopping time?"

"No..." Laura admitted, watching Carmilla put the perishables away first. As Carmilla opened the fridge, Laura noticed that nothing had been in the fridge until now. The inside looked pristine, as if the fridge had never held food before. The freezer looked just as neat; ice was only beginning to form. Had Carmilla only recently plugged the refrigerator in?

"Thirsty?" Carmilla asked. Laura blinked with confusion.

"I'm sorry?"

Carmilla pointed to the two glasses in the sink. Laura processed the information, realizing that Carmilla had only taken one glass out earlier and that she'd noticed the second glass.

"Yeah, parched."

Carmilla bunched all but one of the plastic bags up and stuffed them into the remaining bag before putting it away in a closet.

"So do you live here by yourself?" Laura asked, an attempt to make conversation.

"Yeah."

"Do you have a job?"

"No."

Laura studied Carmilla, unable to figure her out. Her eyes then wandered to a magnetic knife strip, which held all of the steak knives and larger knives on display. She tried not to let the space where she presumed one knife had been bother her. But then again, there wasn't a knife in the sink, and the dishwasher wasn't running. She wondered where Carmilla could conceal such a large knife if she did indeed have it elsewhere.

"You don't have to stay out here," Carmilla informed her coolly. "There's plenty of space in this house."

Laura examined her options. She could get out of the same room as Carmilla and put some distance between them. But if she did that, she wouldn't be able to see what Carmilla was doing, and she didn't trust her. At the same time, if she stayed in the same room with her, Carmilla would be much closer to Laura and have easier access to her.

"It's not brain surgery," Carmilla chuckled. "Either sit somewhere else or stay here with me. I don't care either way."

Laura forced herself to react by nodding.

"Yeah, sorry... I've been kinda spacey since I woke up. Probably the concussion," she joked, grabbing a nearby apple and yanking a knife off the magnetic strip. Carmilla stared at the knife, which was ridiculously large for simply eating an apple, but she didn't say a single word as Laura left the kitchen to go find the living room and sit.

Okay, so what do I know? Laura asked to herself as she cut a small slice out of the apple. I'm currently stuck in a house with some random girl who locks all the drawers on her dresser and stores creepy old books in her closet. One of which is in Latin—so she must know Latin—and another seems to be a list of victims. So she's either an immortal murderer, or her family has murdered for generations and generations. Or she's planning to be a murderer... Or she's a really method actor like Heath Ledger. Or maybe she thinks all those murders are connected and she's into conspiracy theories... But then again, there's also a knife missing from her magnetic knife rack—who knows where that went—and she apparently hasn't plugged her fridge in until just the other day, or so it seems, and she isn't a fan of turning on lights for whatever reason. Wack job.

It was then that Laura realized there was no reason for her to be sitting in the dark, so she clicked a nearby lamp on, chewing her apple thoughtfully.

She doesn't have a job either, but this house is nice and everything looks expensive and antique.

Carmilla made her way toward the living room, flinching once the light poured into her eyes. She wasn't used to having any lights on in the house. Meanwhile, Laura hadn't heard Carmilla come in, so when the girl appeared next to her, Laura jumped and dropped the knife, inches from Carmilla's foot. Had Carmilla not reacted as quickly as she did, the knife would've gone through her foot.

Laura offered a sheepish smile, to which Carmilla sighed and dislodged the knife from the floorboards.

"Trying to kill me?" Carmilla asked, brandishing the knife as she spoke. Laura kept her eyes on the girl's fingers and the way they wrapped around the knife's handle before coming up with her own quip.

"Are you trying to kill me?"

Carmilla stared at her for a moment before breaking into a chuckle and replying, "I asked you first."

All Laura could respond with was, "So? I asked you second."

Carmilla studied Laura before holding the knife out to her, tip pointed at the girl's chest. She raised an eyebrow as Laura stared at the blade just inches away from her.

"Th- Thank you," Laura stammered, taking care to reach over the blade and grab the handle, barely brushing Carmilla's fingers. Carmilla recoiled upon her touch before composing herself and nodding once at her.

"The fridge is stocked. And so is the freezer, I guess..." Carmilla mumbled. "Leftovers from earlier are in the fridge, too."

"Are you going somewhere?" Laura asked. Even though Carmilla's very presence made her nervous, the fact that it had become dark outside scared her even more. She'd rather have Carmilla around than no one.

Carmilla could smell the fear radiating from this girl, but she hadn't yet pinpointed what was freaking Laura out so much.

"No," she answered softly. She saw Laura relax and decided she'd done the right thing.

For once.

"Do you... watch TV?" Laura asked, resuming to eating her apple. Stupid question, she scolded herself.

"Not really..." Carmilla sighed. She saw a flicker of impatience in Laura's eyes, and realized she'd killed the conversation before it had even begun. "But we could... if you want to."

Laura patted the spot beside her on the couch, deciding she could trust Carmilla, at least for the moment. Carmilla plopped herself down as Laura found the remote buried between the cushions and turned the television on and began flipping through random channels. After a few minutes of flipping, she heard Carmilla's soft chuckle.

"What?"

"You don't watch TV either," Carmilla knowingly remarked.

"Guilty as charged," Laura sighed. She set the remote down and left whatever program she'd landed on to play. They both watched in silence as some unknown caucasian woman in a flower shop bumped into another unknown caucasian man and exchange apologies before staring deeply into each other's eyes.

I'm here looking for my girlfriend, he explained.

Looks like he found one, the woman's friend muttered under her breath. The woman nudged her with a chastising look.

Sorry about her. Lack of impulse control.

That's fine, he laughed. And I meant I was here looking on behalf of my girlfriend. But I can't seem to find the florist anywhere...

Oh the florist? That's me! the woman remarked brightly.

"So tell me about yourself," Laura spoke suddenly, desperately trying to not have to focus on a cheesy romcom. Carmilla, who'd grown increasingly bothered by Laura's chewing Sounds was secretly grateful for the distraction.

"Well, you already know my name..." Carmilla thought aloud. "I've lived here for about three years. I inherited this house from my..."

She paused as if she were trying to think of the correct word before settling on one.

"Mother," she said at last. "She passed... suddenly. So now I live here alone."

"So you live here alone and you don't have a job..." Laura commented. She must be loaded.

"Yeah," Carmilla nodded. "What about you?"

"Well, I ran away from home," Laura admitted for a second time. "My parents and I got into a fight. They kinda found out that I like girls, and that didn't really end well for me."

"I'm sorry," Carmilla responded. This was the first time Laura saw any sign of compassion in Carmilla. Even when she'd been helping her at the scene of the accident, she never once seemed to be bothered by any of it. All her actions seemed more... perfunctory.

"I mean... I knew they'd react like that," Laura shrugged, taking another bite of her apple. Carmilla contained her annoyance at the sound. "I was already packed."

"Headed anywhere?"

"Not really..." Laura admitted. "I was gonna check into a motel or something for a little while, figure something out. But no destination in mind."

Laura kicked herself for admitting that to Carmilla. If the girl had intentions to kill her, it was even better that no one was expecting Laura. Then no one would report her missing.

"What're you gonna do without a car?"

"I don't know," Laura sighed. Carmilla studied her for a moment.

"You can... stay here," Carmilla hesitantly offered. "You don't have to. And you don't have to stay forever, just... until you find somewhere else. Somewhere better."

"I appreciate your kindness," Laura thanked her. "But I think I've been enough trouble already."

"Not at all," Carmilla answered honestly. Laura picked up on her raw sincerity and shyly nodded.

"I might stay for a little bit," she replied, before a yawn found its way out of her mouth.

"Tired?" Carmilla asked, and Laura nodded. Carmilla reached for the half-eaten apple, and Laura handed it to her and thanked her.

"Goodnight, Carmilla..." Laura stated as she left the host alone in the living room. Carmilla listened to her footsteps go up the stairs as she sat and stared at the half-finished apple. Her eyes wandered around the room, appreciating how warmly lit the room was.

It hadn't even been a day but Laura was already changing her life. The refrigerator was running—Carmilla kept hearing it, wondering what the noise was, then remembering—and all these lights were on in her house. And the faint smell of spätzle still lingered in the air. For the first time in centuries, Carmilla felt almost human. Was this what it felt like to be human?

Carmilla took a contented bite of the apple before realizing what she'd done, and spit the piece into the palm of her hand.