“I p-promise you..” She said through the pressure on her airway, words wheezing out.

The grip tightened as her nails dug into skin, a mark surely to be left behind. The red-hair woman grimaced as her lungs shuddered from the lack of oxygen, but she tried her best to seem unaffected by the assault. Eyes narrowing as she tried pinpointed the gaze of the woman, but her black cover did its job in not revealing her scrutiny.

“Prove it”

“H-how?” What did she want from her? To fight back? To apologize?

A tense minute passed, her lungs screaming. Finally out of desperation she began to claw at her hands. She was able to hold her breath longer than any human, but being held a good foot from the floor, her body to ached, her torn abdomen howling for reprievement. But she kept her glare strong on the woman. The black veil tilted slightly, as if she was in deep thought.

“Don-Don, I have an idea,” The doll from earlier said, waddling to the woman’s skirts, tugging at them to get her attention. Confused, the wounded woman’s eyes flicked between the pair. Silently, the lady took her focus off the other to look at her companion, prompting for the doll to continue.

“She can play with me for tonight and leave tomorrow morning.”

Brows furrowed at the doll, what would she gain from that? The grip on her neck brought her back to the present. She regarded the woman with a meek frown, nodding in blind agreement with the dolls proposition.

“She’s hurt too,” The doll said, pointing out the red pool of blood trailing down her pants.

This “Don-Don” woman shot her focus to the torn flesh of her stomach, her clutch loosening, allowing her to breathe again. She let her fall to the floor. She gasped out in pain as sharp crack sounded in the room, skin tearing as more blood spewed below her.

“What’s your damn problem?” She gritted out, heaved herself up to a half-way sitting position, her right hand cradling her rips. One had broken, that much she could tell when her inhale felt like stabbing knifes.

“Don-Don” puffed out a frustrated sigh and turned on her heel, her steps clacking away as she disappeared into another door. Leaving her alone with the doll that may have just saved her life. Her gaze hardened when she caught sight of the toy figure circling her in curiosity.

“Now that you’re stuck with me, you’ve gotta introduce yourself,” It said with an enthusiasm that didn’t quite match her bitter mood.

“You may have just saved my life, but I’m not getting all friendly with you.” Her teeth grit together when another wave of pain hit her when she tried straighten up.

The doll’s head tilted, but it just shrugged. “Oh come on! I cant just call you trespasser, can I?”

The woman’s face was stone cold, not budging on a single word. The doll stood silent waiting for an answer but groaned with a head shake.

“Fine, the name’s Angie,” She said, nearing her with a step. Flinching back slightly, the woman glared harder. Getting the hint, she backed off.

“So, human”

“M’ not human,” She blurted out.

Angie looked at her, her jaw opening, baffled by her confession. “You’re Kidding! Does that mean you’re immortal?” Her glass eyes gleaming in raw excitement.

“To an extent.”

To be fair, she didn’t know what she was completely. Her knowledge was very limited to the secrets of her origins. All she understood was that she could endure close encounters with death, each time being more fatal than the last, and managed to bounce back every time. Not to mention her rather unorthodox appetite for flesh and ichor. She’s lost so much blood, but could still function enough to chat up a doll, and take a strangling from someone.

Speaking of functioning, the dull aching of her muscles came back full force, causing an influx of nausea to disorient her. She cupped her head into her palm, the floor feeling as if it was tipped upside down.

“Fuck,” She hissed through her teeth.

“You don’t look too good,” Angie pointed out, her little body waddling closer, but not by too much.

“Nope,” She huffed out as she tried her hardest to stand. Ultimately almost failing from the vertigo. But she managed as she used the wall to haul herself to her feet.

“I can getcha a first aid kit…” Angie offered as she watched her struggle on her feet. She could only nod, her voice surely too strained to say anything.

“Follow me!” She said before already prancing her way out a doorway, making it difficult for her to keep up with the lanky doll. They made it through rooms and corridors, passing by peeling wallpaper, and gray windows.

Finally managing to shuffled into a cozy lounge room, she leaned on the doorway, letting out a heavy cough

A boisterous fire warmed the room, a full sized couch positioned before the fireplace with a side table. Moving more into the room, she spotted an open book and a waning candlestick sat upon the table.

“Usually Don-Don is the medical nerd, but she’s been in a bit of a particularly bad mood lately,” Angie’s voice filled the room, having her refocus on the doll. She guided her to the sofa, allowing for her to sit down. Warmth from the fire sent a pleasurable wave of relief through her bones, alleviating chilled skin. It was a nice change from the earlier events of peril.

“I guess that explains her nearly asphyxiating me,” She said sarcastically.

“Well you kinda deserved that,” The doll chided. She wasn’t wrong, she did punch her in the face, and kind of broke into their home.

“Yeah, I guess I did.”

Angie left her line of sight for some moments, allowing her to stare blankly at the floor. Teeth nibbled at her lip, thoughts beginning to spiral.

She didn’t want to admit it, but the supposed owner of this home intrigued her. She’s never seen such power from just one woman other than herself. Was she not human either? Was she not alone?

Little taps of feet broke her from her speculations, seeing Angie round the corner with a large mason jar, clean gauze, cotton wool and a bottle of assumed sterile saline in her grasp. She set them down and stared at her expectantly.

“What?”

“You’ve gotta strip off your shirt,” She said exasperated, as if that was the most obvious thing. Looking at the makeshift tourniquet of her top, her fingers attempting to pry apart the tight bonds.

She eventually grew frustrated with the stubborn fabric so instead she ripped them apart. The cuts adorning her skin stinging as the air hit them. Angie visibly cringing from the swollen wounds. The surrounding area was inflamed and colorfully covered in bruises. Her body hasn’t done much to recover, the blood still fresh and just barely beginning to clot again.

“Its looking infected.” She said, prodding at a large bruise just to the side of her bellybutton.

“What did that to you?” Angie asked in a hushed voice.

“Lycan.”

“Makes sense, you must have really pissed them off.” Angie said with a half joking tone.

She shook my head. “It was unprovoked. I look like any other human, they must have thought of me as another meal.” She explained as she slunk further into the couch.

With a shrug, Angie began to work by soaking the cotton wool in the saline before handing it to her. “You gotta clean it first, it won’t do any good if there’s debris,” she said with a new softness to her voice.

She appreciated that Angie dropped the subject. Now following her instructions, beginning to dab away old and new blood. The occasional sting of pain making her clench her teeth.

Once she got to the worst part of the wound, she barely contain the agony, a rag now clenched in her jaw. Her head flung back as a particular area jabbed out, making her growl through the gag.

“Arrghhh!” She screamed out. “Fuck,”

“Well if you weren’t so heavy handed you wouldn’t be in so much pain,” Angie taunted, before ripping the cloth from her grasp. She shot a glare at her before spitting out the fabric.

“I wasn’t done.”

“Yeah well, I was done watching you,” She replied as she shoved the mason jar her way. She took it without complaint, eager to get this done. With that, they sat in silence as she tended to her wound. It wasn’t until she had finished wrapping herself up that her stomach began to grumble in hunger.

“Fuck, forgot about that…” She grumbled out, the hollow hunger in her crawling away at her sanity. Angie picked up on her discontentment, and hopped from the sofa, dusting off her dress.

“Let me take you to the kitchen,” She said with a refreshed lightness. The red head nodded as she wearily stood from the cushions and began to follow Angie out, but something had caught her eye; it was the open book from the side table. She shuffled to it and skimmed her fingertips along the parchment. Some spots in the text were warped, as if water, or even tears, had been spilt. Then her eye stopped at a name in ink. A breath caught in her throat as she brought the book to a close, reading the title in bold font. Carmilla.

‘A book with my name on it?’ She thought, the circumstances of this happening a little too suspicious. Startled by the discovery she left the room in haste, the pit in her stomach leaving a foul taste in her mouth.

No idea why, the feelings of rage and remorse filled her entire being. As if she could feel the anguish of another. A secret must have been buried deep into that book. She followed Angie through the dreary halls to distract herself at best.

“We’re here~!” Angie proclaimed in a sing-song voice, her hands above her head as she did jazz hands, as if to show off the kitchen in its glory. There wasn’t much, it had definitely seen better days. The scullery was blanketed with a dim warm light, the counters lining the walls. A long center island filled the rest of the place, pots and pans hung from a set of hooks. The place was relatively organized, but something still felt a bit off. It looked to have been out of use for so long that thick sheets of dust lined the surfaces.

Just off to her right, there was an old-fashioned stone oven and large basin sink, beside that there was a fridge that looked to have been pulled straight from the 40's. Mysterious brown streaks running down from the freezer door, and the paint job began to rust and yellow out.

Angie waddled to the fridge and hopped to hang on the handle, her feet planted onto the door as she tried to pry it open. A slightly terrifying fear came to light as Carmilla watched the doll struggle. Outrageous as the image of doll parts in the freezer, there could be a possibility. After a few curses from Angie, she finally managed to open the fridge. Almost being flown off as the door flew open, taking her with it. A flickering light from inside illuminated a seemingly normal amount of contents, packaged cheeses, fruits, and a milk jar.

“Take your pick!” Angie said as she gestured to the foodstuff. Feet stumbled as Carmilla neared the human food, her insides twisting with disgust.

“Do you by chance have any… meat?” She looked to Angie with an apprehensive stare, afraid she’d deem her as egregious. Angie stood with a blank face for enough time for her anxiety to grow before she reanimated.

 “Well yeah, but it’s all frozen.”

Carmilla nodded as she went to open the freezer door, but was halted from Angie. “What are you doing?” She said with a confused raise of her voice.

“I don’t eat human food,” She explained, misted air swirled out from the ice box, revealing sealed packages of what she assumed to be the meat. At this point Angie had become antsy as she bounced on the balls of her feet, trying to get her attention. She ignored her as she looked to the back, finding a suspicious black garbage bag with an equally dubious red tag. She dug it up and brought it to light to make out the perfect handwriting.

“Luthier Key?” She read out loud.

“Put it back!” Angie yelled out, her spindly fingers grasping for the plastic bag. She managed to get a clasp of it, making it tumble from Carmilla's hands and land on the floor with a wet splosh. She looked at Angie in disbelief, her brows furrowing in question.

“What wa-”

“Put it back before Don-Don sees it!” Angie warned as she bent down to pick up said object of suspicion. Unsure how to process what she just saw, Carmilla took the oddly firm bag from Angie and threw it back into the freezer, all the while looking at her with a look that said ‘You satisfied now?’Angie relaxed, seeing that it was now hidden.

“I’m not going to question what that was,” She said as she plucked a different bag. “We all have our secrets.” Those words seemed to reassure Angie, as she settled down.

“What are you even looking for?” Angie asked as she made her way on top of the island and sat down, her feet swinging off the side.

Carmilla followed closely behind her and slammed the bag onto the surface, her hands working fast to pry the tether open. “Like I said, I don’t eat human food.”

She tilted her head, Carmilla's answer not quite answering her question. Angie’s glassy eyes watched as she finally opened the bag and shoved her hand into it to pull out a piece of tissue. Sweet aromas of blood wafted out and into her nose, making her stomach lurch in anticipation. She sighed heavily as the frozen chunk met her warm tongue, flavors slowly becoming present as the ice melted away. All the while, Angie gagged to the side.

“You’re not gonna at least cook it?” She asked, her question laced in repulsion. Carmilla looked at her as teeth chipped away at the solid muscle and shrugged.

“Normally I’d eat it raw,” She countered back, slightly to taunt her.

“If Don-Don heard you say that, she’d have your head,” Angie said with a seriousness that had a chill run down her spine.

“Don-Don this, Don-Don that, she’s not my boss,” She said with a dismissive wave, scowling at the reminder of the woman who nearly killed her. Angie sighed as she shifted to lay on her stomach, her feet swinging behind her as she waited for her to finish.

“At least she hasn’t strung you up in her workshop…” Angie said under her breath. She pretended to not hear her terrifying comment and just chewed more fervently. The background noise of the fridge became louder in her head, its humming now filling the silence.