Its eyes lifeless as it lied still, its beak open as if it was about to sing. She stood there frozen, the beginning of a sob forming in her throat. Sadness threatened to pull her heart through her chest for the poor bird, but she was derailed from that as the woman hobbled up to her.

“The castle bell heralds danger,” The lady said before her, now just a few feet away. Her face stiff, a smile perpetually stuck in a sickening grin. Her pale eyes bore into her, while also seeming a hundred miles away. Carmilla staggered back, her lips forming a tight line.

“Who are you?” She asked harshly. The old woman’s smile grew impossibly wider, perfectly white teeth that did not match her appearance peeking through wrinkled lips.

“Through life and death, we give glory—” She cut off her chant, her face falling as another ballad of chimes rung out in the distance. The air around them torrid as she stood still, a winter wind freezing Carmilla’s head to the point of a migraine. Finally, the lady moved, her head falling back as she howled out. Carmilla stumbled back, the laughter shooting daggers right into her skull.

“The bell tolls for us all!” She shrieked out, straining her lungs in wheezing chortles. This lady was obviously deranged as she moved her neck abnormally to smile back at Carmilla, her eyes crazed.

“Do you need any assistance?” Carmilla asked politely after she was sure the woman was done speaking. If anything she was probably lost and needed someone to help find her home, it was frigid outside too. The cold probably making her disoriented. The lady just stared, her smile stilling the air around them.

“Ma’am?” She waved her hand in front of her to get her attention, but she was motionless. She tried again to get her to break from her trance with a tentative hand to her shoulder. The old lady flinched away dramatically with a shrill mixture of rage and hysterical snickers. Carmilla jolted back as well, almost dropping Celeste. Her face peeking out from under her cloak, catching the old hags attention frighteningly quick. She pointed at Carmilla with a look of madness, her eyes bulging from her skull.

“You’re the child’s mother!” She raged out with an accusation Carmilla had no context to.

“What?” Carmilla hid the doll back under her robe, the sudden information hitting her like a brick. “Child? What do you mean child?” The allegation of hers causing a new string of confusion for Carmilla.

A chorus of crow calls rang out in a circle, the gaggle of birds now reminding her of their audience. The woman tried to shush them, her lips pursed as her arms waved above her head, silencing them. The abnormal control of those birds sending a rush of vigilance through Carmilla she witnessed it with horror.

“L-Listen, its getting late and I have to go. I hope you find whatever you need,” She said before whipping around to high-tail it out of there. The hag didn’t try to stop her as she just chuckled out before yelling another nonsense warning of sorts.

“They’re coming!”

Carmilla shook off the shiver that ran down her spine, her stomach feeling heavy with more dread than ever. Whatever that meant, she hoped it had nothing to do with her.

The sun had now begun to disappear from the horizon, the ice from her breath threatening to spread down her throat and singe off the tip of her nose. Her hands red as she tucked them closer to her body for warmth. The satchel now beginning to dig into her shoulder. As night was now approaching, more and more people shut themselves in their homes. Windows glowing orange, promising warmth that Carmilla did not have. Wherever this Elena was, she hoped she liked the winter air as much as any critter forced to endure it. She was now completely lost and needed a miracle to find the whereabouts of Elena’s residence. And if what just happened with that hag was considered normal here, there was no way in knowing what else was in store.

Carmilla turned another right, entering a larger street that had a large pickup truck. Its headlights on, well one as the other was smashed in. The driver seat opened as an old man stepped out, a lit cigar pinched between a frown. He hadn’t seen Carmilla turn the corner as he stepped out, but the sound of snow crunching underneath her boot had his head snap in her direction. She must have looked like an idiot as she stared back at him with eyes that resembled a deer in headlights. The darkness had deepened by the time she turned that corner, and all she could see was the hint of his silhouette as the truck light nearly blinded her.

“The hell you doin’ this late at night?” He said with an authoritative bark. She stepped closer by an inch, unsure if she should ask him for directions or tackle him to the snow with her teeth. Her tongue bled as she bit it hard, the growing hunger in her unnecessary as she had already eaten that morning. She could go weeks without eating, this was no time to drool over a lanky old man with leather skin.

“I’m a little lost,” She said, stepping right up to the trucks hood and looked at him pleadingly.

“Lost?” He quirked a brow, No one gets lost here unless they haven’t grown here.” His eyes looked up and down her body, sizing her up. Did he realize she was an outsider?

“Uh, well…” She avoided his stare, her attention just above his cap.

“Wait a minute,” He walked closer, his hands planted on his hips as his gaze was fixed on her face. His wrinkled features growing in recognition. Plucking the cig from his lips, he pointed the burning tip at her as his face warped in thought. He licked his lips reverently and got close to where retched wafts of cancer tar burned her nose, having her lean away to escape the miasma.

“I know that scare from anywhere,” The man growled, his pale face pulling back into a snarl. Milky eyes of his widening as he hastily stepped back to grab something from the trucks driver seat. Alarm shot to her feet, a large shotgun whipped out, the barrel nose to nose with hers. But she didn’t flinch in the slightest. Her trepidation swatted away as she caught onto his tight shoulders and his frenzied finger loose on the trigger. Confidence growing as the man before her clearly wasn’t sure if he should pull the trigger.

“You’re the bitch that attacked me a decade ago,” He barked out, his aggression only now daring with his firearm. Then did Carmilla step back, her brow rising an inch as her hazy memory tried to recollect his indictment. He followed her when she stepped back, the cool metal digging into her cheekbone. On reflex, her hand went to the metal shaft, her grip closing on it. The gun creaked as it was bent achingly slow. It was slightly straining for Carmilla, as her full strength hadn’t been fully replenished. But that was enough to make the old fellow loosen in horror. She smiled at that, his expression making the monster deep inside her awaken.

“So you’re the one to thank for my scar?”

“I knew it, you fucking witch!” He bellowed out, dropping his useless gun and lunging at her. Her fight or flight instinct kicked in, her mouth curling back from her teeth as she advanced the crazed man. Her fingertips burning as nails sprung out in attack. But a pair of hands pulled back the man, halting her in action, a frantic voice calling out to him.

“Father!” A timid woman close to her age cried out, pulling him back by his arms. Carmilla shrunk away, her arms curling behind her to hide her elongated claws. She watched them both, her lungs catching up to her breath. The woman ignored her as she turned to her father, clear annoyance and distraught on her face.

“I thought you knew better than to threaten people!” She chastised him, gripping his hard. The man looked dazed, his anger now replaced with perplexity. She shook him by his shoulders when he didn’t respond, then sighed in defeat. Finally did she look over to Carmilla, an apologetic look in her eyes.

“Father go back inside,” She pushed him behind her, urging him to move. He walked off, grumbling the whole way, slipping into a small cabin just a few yards away.

“I’m sorry about my father,” The girl said, her arms crossed tightly over her chest to protect against the cold. Carmilla stood stiffly, her eyes ripping from the closed door the man stepped into and looked to her. She had a modest pony tail of ashen blond hair, her features soft and innocent looking. She shook her head, her nails digging into her palms.

“It’s fine, not the first time that happened…” She grunted out. The woman chuckled quietly and looked to her feet.

“Well unfortunately, it’s not his first time either. He tends to have these fits cause of his age.” She hugged herself tighter, her attention flicking to Carmilla’s cape. Recognition washed over her features, a heavy sigh escaping her lips.

To any ordinary villager, the sight of a cloaked woman with the demeanor of a ghost would arouse some fort of unease, but it wasn’t her decorum that had the the girl suck in through her teeth. It was the same reason townspeople avoided Carmilla like the plague all day. The silver broach that moved up and down proudly to the her breathing was the cause.

The woman bit her lip before politely holding her hand out. “You must be Carmilla?” She asked, her eyes never leaving hers.

“Yeah, and you Elena?” Carmilla held her hand out to shake hers, unperturbed by the blood pooling from her palm, unaware she had cut herself. Elena took it, oblivious to it at first, but yanked her hand back after the blood painted her skin. Red stained her apron as she wiped the blood roughly.

“Right yes, lets go and get you settled,” She said with a gulp, a forced smile on her lips. Boots crunched under her heel as she whirled towards the cabin, a small beckon of her hand for Carmilla to follow. With a shaky breath and her cloak being wrapped tighter, she trudged after her.

Rusty hinges shrieked as Elena pushed the front door open, yellow light pouring out onto frozen mud and sludge. Carmilla scowled to herself once she stepped in, displeased by the muck she tracked in. Elena didn’t seem to mind as she held her hands out.

“Let me take your cloak and bag,” She said, her stare pointed at the velvet garment. Implicitly, the shawl was taken and hung, much to Carmilla’s disdain. It had grown to be a sort of armor in the short time she had it. Her eyes trained on Elena as she reached for the satchel still hung on her sore shoulder, but she swatted her hand away. Elena flinched back, her face growing red awkwardly.

“S-sorry I-”

Carmilla cut her off, “You like your fingers right?”

Elena looked perplexed at that statement but she nodded, her lips tightening in a line. Carmilla’s face hardened, and Elena grew to understand the threat and stepped back. Satisfied, she removed the handbag herself and held onto it.

“Do you want to go to your room, or have me look at your hands. They look like they need to be cleaned,” Elena pointed out, her eyes stuck on the drying blood on the others palms. The cuts had already healed, but Carmilla kept that pieced of information to herself.

“My room please,” She said, her eyes fixed on Elena’s bashful posture. She gave a modest smile before turning to a flight of stairs to their right. Carmilla followed, maneuvering over the tight space of the living room. Around a table and over some rugs, they ascended to the second floor. Which was just a long hallway with three doors. Elena led her to the end of the hallway, a chipped wooden door with a dented doorknob awaiting them.

“Its not much, but it should be enough to make you feel at home,” Elena said over her shoulder as she slipped into the room. The first thing Carmilla noticed was the choking amount of dust, her throat short of air as she wandered further. A singular window sat on the opposite wall, a desk just below the sill. To the left was a twin bed with mismatched quilts, a ratty looking pillow, and a beside table next to it.

Artificial hair twisted on Carmilla’s forefinger, Celeste’s cool porcelain cheek cradled in her palm. “Its enough, thank you,” She said, going to the desk to set down Celeste, then looked to Elena. Her face full of questions as she examined the doll, but she bit her lip and nodded cordially.

“My pleasure,” She said lowly, stepping to the door, but pausing. “Its a little late, but you’re welcome to join us for dinner.” She must have already known Carmilla’s answer as her brows curled perceptively.

She shook her head, turning her back to Elena. “M’ not hungry, but thanks.”

Elena left quietly, shutting the door with a soft click. Now left in silence with just the warm glow of an oil lantern, she sat down on the bed. It creaked in protest, the smell of fresh laundry pervading the room. Humming serenely, she shifted her eyes to Celeste. The doll looked so peaceful atop the desk, her yellow hair flowing like gold thread.

“It isn’t so bad, right Celeste?” Her face dropped. A overbearing amount of despair squeezing her heart. She’s just a doll, not a companion to confide in. But the sight of her brought so much conflicting emotions, and now way for her to know why.

Her head fell onto the pillow as she kicked her boots off, burrowing herself into the blankets. Soon enough falling asleep with her heart beating to the memory of a black veil and a soft voice.