The mansion was filled with distant screams of pain and torture from somewhere in its deep reaches. Yvette was alive, but nowhere to be seen. I wondered what Rhoda thought of the disappearance of her friend, her confidant, and how she felt about those far off shrieks of agony.
Though there was plenty of bustle around the estate of from the servants, there was still no sign of our supreme queen and dictator, the governess. She had been locked up in her den since the night of Yvette’s debut.
I waited eagerly that evening in my room and watched the sunset fall below the horizon. As the tip vanished, Charles was there. The second night was far different than our hard-faced and dour conversation from the previous. We just sat on my bed and caught up.
He told me of London, and all of the things he had been up to with his blonde friend, the doctor, whose name I still had not been told. Perhaps he didn't wish his name to be shared in a place like this. I could listen to Charles go on all night so long as I could look into his eyes when he spoke. The color of his eyes wasn’t even a factor anymore when it came to what I noticed about them. What I saw in his lovely eyes, framed by thick wheat lashes, was the way that they became a part of his smile when his lips curled up in the corners.
The third night, he explained to me that my life as a mistress of darkness was going to be a very difficult and empty existence, but it was still possible to have a social life, with or without human interaction. He told me that I would be a killer, and this much was unavoidable.
By the fourth night, I was fretful as I thought of how little time I had left of my human life. Also, Charles was unusually silent. We laid on our sides on my new bed, facing each other, but neither of us spoke until my curiosity burst from my lungs and I had to ask what was the matter.
‘It’s nothing,’ he told me.
‘Charles, please don’t lie to me. You’re the only person I trust, the only man I can talk to. How am I supposed to know where I stand on a road of secrets?’
‘I would rather not talk about it.’ Charles frowned deeply. ‘But I fear I must. After all, it involves you and your future. But it is not a pleasant thought, let alone an appropriate conversation topic to hold.’
‘Is it really so horrible?’ I asked laughingly. We'd already discussed my murder, what could be worse?
Still, his face was grim.
'It's worse than horrible, it’s a tragedy,’ he said, morosely.
He ran a hot stone hand across my face, and I eased into his touch. I so loved the smooth glide of his marble skin against whatever part of me that he touched. There was no resistance there when his skin ran smoothly over mine, just like my gravitation toward him.
‘Do you remember Carmilla?’ He asked. I nodded, instantly recalling the face of the woman who had won the auction over Yvette’s life.
‘The lesbian?’ I asked.
I’d heard of such women, and even men, but never thought that I would actually see the sight of a woman kissing another woman intimately, as I saw Carmilla kiss Yvette’s frightened and shivering mouth.
‘When Carmilla was… changed, she had never been touched by a man. She was young, and was not soiled because she was not the type to flaunt and flounder about. But because she became what she is without that experience beforehand, she will forever be… unable to partake in that life experience.’
Charles struggled with his words, and I sat up and leaned over him in disbelief.
‘Are you telling me that she was made while a virgin, and she will always be a virgin?’ I asked.
He seemed a little disapproving of my blunt question, but reluctantly nodded with a grim and fowl expression.
‘Once changed, our bodies cannot adapt. If not broken while human, a woman will never be able to. She will never be able to mate with another,’ Charles explained. ‘This is why she chooses female encounters, and has apparently chosen to purchase a mate from the governess, your unfortunate friend Yvette.’
Charles sullenly stared ahead of him, his eyes, though facing wall, saw horrors of which I'd only just tasted the night that Yvette had been sold.
‘Because Yvette was turned before she had ever lain with a man, she, too, will be a perpetual virgin. Carmilla has done this will countless young girls... She will end up casting Yvette aside, which will leave the girl feeling open, used, and abandoned… Fate directs cruelly, and it is a truth I'd hoped to spare you.’
‘So I will never be able to lay with a man?’ I asked.
Charles nodded silently, guiltily.
‘And I can never have children?’ I pressed on, to which he nodded once more.
There was a heavy pressure on my chest as I laid my head upon my pillow, staring up at the lofty silk canopy above us. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I hadn’t thought of lying with a man, taking a husband and experiencing the joys of intercourse before now, nor of bearing children of my own. But now that I knew that these options were going to be taken away from me, I had to think about how I felt.
‘I will be a virgin forever,’ I mused, still uncertain. Would it bother me? Say I fell in love, would it bother my partner? Would the demon lover who chose me still wish to stand by my side if I could not satiate his lust and desires? And what about me, in the vice versa situation?
I supposed the question I had to ask was: could I, as a demon, ever find love to begin with?
The thought didn't seem realistic, not at all believable. None of the demons I'd seen were capable of love - the governess, Camilla, the entire room of their peers. For what use had a demon with love? I would be a coldhearted creature of ash and despair. The only thing I would be able to do with love in my hands would be to kill it in my palms and then crush it beneath my feet.
And then I looked into Charles' troubled eyes, and I felt all of those previous assumptions trickle through my fingers and out of my hands.
‘I’m sorry, Wilhelmina, but you will be,’ Charles said. ‘I am so very, very sorry, I truly am. There are no words that can express how much I am taking from you, nor how I feel about being the one to rob you of all of this. I understand if you never want to see or speak to me again after the transformation has taken hold of you. I can’t ask you to forgive me, but I hope that one day you can try to understand how I feel about this moment.’
I would have cried, but I was beginning to feel a great deal of apathy toward life and all of its burdens and conditions. They never ceased; whenever things were looking up, something buckled my knees and I was back in the mud of the garden shed again, battered and broken.
‘Please, try to understand,’ Charles whispered. ‘I am sorry.’
‘There’s nothing to apologize for, Charles,’ I told him from an inner distance as I contemplated life without being able to please another, to be whole and complete with that significant other.
As much as I would like to say that things didn’t surprise or bother me as much, that my emotions were numbing around the edges, I still had to work very hard at that moment not to feel anything when reality began to settle in.
In the end, I cried. Charles was kind enough to hold me against his soft form, stroking my long hair as I soaked his shirt.
6. A Honeymoon, or a Funeral?
That was the question teetering back and forth, with me at its equinox. It was a delicate balance, and the slightest mistake could mean that I would quickly go from getting what I wanted to becoming immortally tied to Hades himself.
I couldn’t sleep after Charles left last night, but that was fine. It had given me so much time to think about what I’d learned. As the sun hovered over the countryside, and the willow’s shadows crept along the garden like curious little hands, I came to the conclusion that I'm certain Charles must have been expecting me to make. He would have to be headless not to realize what I was going to ask of him.
Thomasine was silent today, and I was a little absent minded, but at least the screams had ceased. They were finally gone, faded, but there was still no sign of Yvette. I feared and assumed th
e worst, of course.
By noon I was fast asleep, and gladly. I hated waiting for my time with Charles, and this solved my empty time space. At least then I could dream of him until he returned to me.
‘Wilhelmina,’ Thomasine shook me and I sat up, groggily but steady. The excitement in my blood wouldn’t let me roll back to sleep when I knew that Charles was coming. But as I looked out the window I saw that the sun was still up, loitering above the horizon. ‘You should get up and get ready; eat and change.’
‘I’m not hungry,’ I lied.
I was starved, but I didn’t want an unsettled stomach after what I had set out to do. Nerves alone would occupy the void inside of me until after it was done and over with.
Though I was quite anxious to see Charles’ kind eyes, and his endearing smile, I didn’t rush my bath. My nerves were bloating like dead weights and I was beginning to wonder if I had the courage to ask this task of him. Would it even be possible? Would he kill me before saving me?
I dried and Thomasine helped me dress, though she did most of the work as I was too distracted with the prospect of the night ahead of me. So there I sat, alone and waiting by the light of my sweet vanilla candles for Charles Abberdean.
And like a dream, a wonderful and terrifying dream, he was there. He took off his hat and bowed slightly, and I stood up to greet him.
‘How are you feeling?’ he asked, gently moving my chin to study my face in the light.
‘I’m fine, Charles, really,’ I assured him.
‘After our time together last night, I was afraid that you would still be shaken, upset,’ he said.
‘You were just being honest, which is all I can ask of you.’ I led him to the bed and, like a gentleman, he sat down only after I'd settled myself down first. ‘And that’s all I can offer, which is why I want to ask something of you.’
‘What is it?’ Charles asked.
‘Though I am afraid, Charles,’ I said. My stomach was in knots, but I managed to look him in the eye as I prepared my confession. ‘I’m afraid that you won’t grant me this one request.’
‘Wilhelmina, I am about to be branded your murderer for the rest of eternity; any last requests you have I will give if I can, and willingly,’ he said, and I smiled at the fervency in his voice but he was not prepared for what I was to ask of him.
‘You may not feel the same after you hear what I’m going to ask of you.’
‘Should I be worried?’ Charles asked in a low tone.
‘Perhaps,’ I mused. ‘I’m about to cross a boundary. I hope you’ll be there with me on the other side.’
‘Now I am worried,’ he said. I matched his smile to calm him a bit, to let him know that everything was still alright, but I think that may have prepared him for an ambush instead.
‘Charles, we only have tonight, and tomorrow night together before the governess expects you to change me. And then you will turn me into one of ‘the legion of the damned’, as you like to put it.’ I took his hand inside of my own warm palms, and held him there for a moment. ‘I will be immortal.’
‘Yes,’ he agreed.
‘Undying,’ I continued.
‘Yes.’
‘I will live on for centuries, thousands of years, and I will meet others like you,’ I persisted, trying to work up to my point.
‘Eventually you will find a mate, a man who loves you, who shares a bond with you,’ he added, which was exactly what I wanted him to say. Now he could better understand my request from a logical standpoint, even if I knew that he wouldn’t agree to it.
‘But I could never completely fulfill and satisfy my mate, and we could never completely be one and joined,’ I said.
Charles’ expression hardened, frozen with concern and, most likely, disgust.
‘Is it not enough that I must bear the fault of reaping you of humanity?’ he asked. His voice trembled, though out of nerve or anger, I couldn’t be sure, though I was very certain, by the crook of his brow, that he was irate. ‘Is it not enough to turn you into a monster in order to set you free?’
‘No,’ I said flatly.
His eyes flashed - he couldn’t believe what I’d just said, and neither could I.
‘It isn’t enough, Charles. If you leave me untouched I will have no choice but to accept. But if you won’t do this for me it never will be enough.’
He shook his head furiously, standing up from the bed and staring down at me with incredulity, so clear on his face it may as well have been written across his brow. He turned away, and I grasped his arm, afraid that he would leave.
‘Please, don’t go,’ I pleaded.
‘Wilhelmina, that is too much to ask of me,’ Charles told me fanatically. ‘You have no idea what you’re implying.’
‘I’m implying that you be my first,’ I said. I stood up and held onto his coat to keep him from running away as I forced him to look me in my eye. ‘I trust you, I want you to do it. After all, you’re going to change me, it’s only logical that you be the one.’
‘So it’s logical? It’s purely business, is it?’ he asked crossly. I swallowed as I realized that was not what he wanted to hear. ‘I think it’s best if we mark this as the cap of our visits until the night I…’
He never finished that sentence, he just left me sitting there. I should have gone after him, but instead I stared into the empty space in which he stood moments before. I was alone and rejected, but I knew that time was on my side. The present was a failure, but time was like a book of pages, of layers, and if I stood up now, I could run after him and change the story.
It was my story, and sitting here playing a damsel in woe was not how I wanted to be observed, to be remembered. This was not simply business, or logic, this was emotional. This was choice. I loved Charles so much I was going to let him kill me, both in life and in innocence.
I stood.
‘Charles!’ I called after him, rushing out into the hall. I ran and ran, though I had no idea which direction to go. I kept running and running, calling out his name with the hope that he would hear me.
I saw a lone figure in the garden, gazing at the moon, and my heart fluttered. I rushed out into the moonlight and stopped, taking in the vision of beautiful pale skin that glowed like a dove’s wings in the glorious sun. Eyes, red with wonder, immediately noticed my presence, and a familiar smile crept across the striking full lips of the seraphine girl.
‘Wilhelmina,’ Yvette whispered.
‘Yvette!’ I gasped. ‘Where have you been? What’s happened to you? I thought – I feared – I heard –’
‘You look so gorgeous,’ Yvette marveled, completely oblivious to everything I’d just said.
In the blink of an eye she was in front of me, brushing my hair out of my face and cupping my jaw line into her warm, hard hands. Hands like Charles; hands like the governess. ‘Your skin is so soft, so warm; your blood is so thick, running smoothly and coarsely at the same time.’
‘My blood?’ I asked her suspiciously.
‘I’ve already fed, but you just smell so… good!’ Yvette said with a grin. ‘That’s one of the things I’ve always admired about you, Wilhelmina. You smelled good every time you walked near, but now… now you smell so phenomenal, so warm, so wild.’
She gripped my arm and held my neck. She was no longer Yvette, of this I was certain.
It was comical, as I trembled in her grasp during the last pages of this chapter of my life, that I should fear this future. When it was understood that Charles would be the one to curse my soul, I felt nothing but understanding and anticipation. So long as it meant freedom from this life, and more time to spend with him, I could care less what type of monster Charles Abberdean would make me.
But in Yvette’s hold, I was terrified, trembling without control, because Yvette’s face wasn't a face at all, but a mirror. She dreamed once, she hoped once, and she used to be a wonderful person full of life. But all that remained in those demonic eyes was lust and desire, and she was no longer a pers
on, she was that lusts and desire.
I was looking into my own future, what would have been had I not chased away Charles; a soulless creature driven to wicked sin by feral cravings. But now I didn’t have to worry about that because I was about to die.
Her face blurred as she struck my neck with her teeth. I felt her silky jaw scrape my skin, but I was thrown up into the air. I flipped and spun through the air, wondering which direction the world was going to hit me. I landed in hard arms, and was almost immediately dropped onto the stone ground. A shadow leapt between me and Yvette, growling like a fierce mountain lion.
When I had my bearings, I sat up and saw Yvette’s angry face hissing back at my guardian. She was hard, aggressive, and purely untamed with rage. She shrieked and nearly flew toward my protector, and both creatures became a smear.
All I could see were white blurs of movement and the clashing sounds of granite limbs colliding. When everything stopped, I saw my harbinger of death holding Yvette’s head with both hands. She was on her knees, gasping for air as Charles stood over her from behind. His eyes were dark and beastly, and he gritted his teeth as his shoulders tensed, ready to do what in his own natural heart he would normally never dream of doing.
I watched, paralyzed, as small cracks spread like spider webs around Yvette’s neck. Dust fell from the fissures like a shattered brick and bright firelight shone from behind the ashen flesh. In one swift motion, Charles twisted the head of the succubus right off of her neck.
‘Charles...’ The voice that called to him was not my own. Out of the shadows stepped a pale figure, lithe with masculine grace as he stepped out into the night light. ‘Stop.’ He held one, solid hand raised in his direction.
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