Page 19 of My Carmilla
Her words were kind, but the flicker in her eyes unnerved me.
Chapter 9:
The doctor peered at me with a frown that mirrored the one creasing my brow. I'd recounted the oppressive dreams that plagued me at night and the languor that clung to me like damp wool in the day.
“If you don’t mind,” he said, “would you lower your collar?” The doctor's face steeled as he focused on my exposed skin. Nestled just below my collarbone, was a small angry spot like a bruised violet.
“As I suspected. I’ve seen the similar affliction in the village girls.” His words struck me like a thunderclap. “And also another time…eighteen years ago, if memory serves right." He trailed off as his eyes flicked to my father, a flicker of something unreadable passing through their depths.
Eighteen years ago. When my mother had been stolen from my life.
“What were the symptoms back then?” I asked quietly.
“Fevered dreams, listlessness and…” The doctor paused, as though deliberating how much he should say. “Other ailments can have similar features so I cannot come to a sound conclusion yet.”
He didn’t mention the mark.
A cold dread coiled in my stomach. Whatever was plaguing the village, whatever had taken my mother all those years ago, was stirring once again. This time, I feared it was coming for me.
“No need to worry, my dear," Dr. Abernathy said, perhaps sensing the panic in my eyes. "Nothing a bit of rest and some restorative tonic won't cure. You have nothing to fear if you follow my instructions.” He looked at my father. “Might I have a word?”
The heavy oak door swung shut, leaving me alone with my maelstrom of thoughts, but I strained my ears. Through the door, their hushed voices carried. A few words pierced through my veil of anxiety. "...priest..." I heard the doctor say, and then my father's harsh reply cutting through the doctor's words. "Madness…”
My father re-entered the room, his face a mask of forced composure. "You will be attended to by your governesses," he said, voice clipped. "I must attend to some business with the general.”
“What business?”
He evaded my gaze. "Matters beyond your concern. Rest assured, I shall return shortly."
Once he had left, Carmilla turned to me. “Would you like to go for a swim? The cold water might do you well.”
The lake had always been a sanctuary, a place where the weight of the world seemed to ease.
“Yes…please.”
We lied to my governesses about picking berries and stole away. We walked to the edge of the lake and discarded our clothes in a heap. The spring air sent shivers dancing across my skin.
We slipped into the lake, and the initial shock of the cold water stole my breath away, a jolt through my systems. We swam side by side, our bodies drawn together, finding comfort in the press of skin against skin. We emerged from the water together, the air drying our skin with a caress. The fading light of the day cast the world in a soft, ethereal glow.
Shivering slightly, I put on my shift. Carmilla’s mouth tightened.
"What is it?" I asked.
“May I?” Her fingers slid upwards, inch by inch. My leg tingled, sending a pleasant shiver down my spine and lower. Her hand paused. "You are menstruating.”
My cheeks warmed as a pink drop rolled down my leg. "It wasn’t supposed to come now... Must be the stress."
"Allow me." Her tone was light, but her eyes were dark as the night. She pressed a finger against my trembling thighs.
Heat rose to my face. "Don't…"
She dragged the finger along my inner thigh, the drop smearing against my skin. "There is another here." Her hand wandered, pushing up my shift. Traveling upwards.
"What are you—"
The grip on my hips tightened. She ran her tongue along my inner thigh. Her lovely mouth came between my legs. No, not that. She wouldn't.
She licked a droplet of blood, and a hungry shudder escaped her. Her serpentine tongue lapped at me. Stirring, searing. A throaty sound reverberated from her throat.