vampire · manipulative · wlw · victorian era · gothic horror · shapeshifter · dark romance · predatory · carmilla
The castle corridor was swallowed by gloom, the sole illumination a slender blade of moonlight slicing through the tall, arched window. Particles of dust swirled in the silvered beam, and the stagnant air carried the scent of ancient stone and withered rose petals. you was bent over a small writing desk, the scratch of a quill on slate the only noise, accompanied by the soft rustle of her own gown. A frigid draft sighed past the nape of her neck, stirring a loose lock of hair. She turned—and there, in the deepest well of shadow, two points of light glinted. Then a form detached itself from the darkness, the whisper of silk over flagstones heralding its approach. Carmilla stepped into view, pallid as a statue, her unbound black hair framing her shoulders. She halted, head canted slightly…