The Mistletoe

After a few days, a man arrived with several paintings, brushes, and other items, looking every bit a painter, carrying multiple boxes. I helped to carry some things, and they invited us to have dinner.

“Good Lord, young man!” one of the maids said to me. “You should have better manners. This boy eats for ten people, he’s going to bankrupt us!”

“It’s the work, ma’am, the work,” said the restorer while laughing with me.

We gathered in what they called the “atrium” to unpack the boxes.

Carmilla didn’t seem overly impressed with the paintings, and I had never touched a real painting before; at home, we only had digitally printed photos, mostly of our family members. While we unpacked some paintings, Laura’s father checked one that seemed to catch his attention.

“I’ve never seen this painting before,” Laura’s father commented while pointing to the painting to the restorer.

I sneaked in to look at the painting that Laura and her father were observing. “Marcia Karnstein, 1768,” I could read, while the restorer seemed quite proud of the portrait.

“Can you see, dear?” he asked. “This is a real miracle. It’s you, alive and smiling. It’s only missing the ability to speak. Don’t you find it extraordinary? Look, Dad! It also has a small mole on the throat.”

“Oh! Come on, they’re identical!” I thought. I recalled those memes and creepypastas comparing actors Keanu Reeves and Nicolas Cage with old photos, claiming they were immortal.

Laura’s father smiled and said, “Indeed, it’s an extraordinary resemblance.”

Carmilla just stood there, absorbed in her thoughts. Then Laura said, “May I hang it in my room, Dad?”

“Of course, dear,” he said. “I’m glad you like it. It must be more beautiful than I thought if it resembles your friend so much.”

Laura widened her shining eyes and asked the restorer, “Could you paint a picture for me?”

The restorer nodded, and Laura’s father seemed a bit bewildered.

“Miguel!” she exclaimed, excitedly taking my hands with her bright eyes. “I would love to have a picture of you too; it would be an honor for me to have your portrait.”

I hesitated a bit, but seeing Laura’s high expectations, I reaffirmed, saying, “Ok… I mean… sure.”

As the restorer set things up to paint me and Carmilla remained absorbed in her thoughts, she appeared, at one point, to slightly open her mouth and smile in what seemed like a kind of ecstasy.

“Now the name is readable,” said Laura. “It’s not Marcia. It seems written in golden letters. The name is Mircalla, Countess of Karnstein. Above the name, there’s a small Ravenn, and below an inscription: Anno Domini 1698. I descend from the Karnsteins.”

“Ah!” languidly exclaimed Carmilla. “I also believe I’m a distant descendant of that family. Are there any of their members still alive?”

“I don’t think anyone bears the surname anymore. The family died out due to the civil war, a very long time ago. The castle ruins are only a few leagues from here.”

“Very interesting,” Carmilla murmured absentmindedly. “But look at this beautiful moonlight tonight.” She looked through the half-opened door. “What if we went for a walk?” After a pause, she added.

“Tonight reminds me of the night you arrived,” said Laura and added. “And the night of our gentleman, Miguel.” Carmilla sighed, smiling at her, then turned her gaze to me, focusing on my eyes.

“We’ll go for a walk, Miguel; I’m anxious to see your portrait!” Laura said with a radiant smile.

Carmilla looked at me and said before leaving, “I doubt any artist can capture the true essence of our dear friend.”

While walking out with Laura, holding her by the waist, Carmilla gave me an intense look that made me truly uncomfortable. She seemed to be insinuating to me, and I was thoroughly confused.

As the restorer set things up and began his work, I stayed alert, trying to maximize my senses. Carmilla and Laura were alone outside, and I needed to be aware in case the Beast appeared and harmed any of them. However, I couldn’t help overhearing their conversation.

“So, do you still remember the day of my arrival?” Carmilla whispered in Laura’s ear. “Are you glad to have me here?”

“I am very happy, dear Carmilla,” Laura replied. “And you asked to hang that painting in your room,” she murmured, sighing. I could hear, but the context didn’t make sense to me yet.

“How romantic you are, Carmilla!” exclaimed Laura. “When you tell me the story of your life, I’m sure it will feel like reading a love novel.” Carmilla kissed her silently.

“I am convinced, Carmilla, that you have been in love,” Laura continued. “And I would dare to say that you are still worried about some love affair.”

To me, it was clear that there was something between them. I won’t lie, I felt a bit disappointed because I had been getting closer to Laura. But who am I to judge? Maybe I had gotten too attached to this girl, and it was better to distance myself.

“I’ve never fallen in love, and I never will,” Carmilla affirmed to Laura. “Unless I fall in love with you…”

There was a moment of silence that seemed uncomfortable, and then she continued.

“My dear! I live in you, and you will die in me. I love you so much!”

“Goodness!” I thought, “Victorians are so intense. Moreover, I suppose that these kinds of relationships were frowned upon in this era. Surely, if Laura’s father found out, it would be a big drama, but I can’t meddle, I shouldn’t.” Then, Carmilla added:

“Let’s go back. Let’s go home.”

The restorer interrupted me, saying, “I think it’s ready! I did what I could, but it seems to look pretty good.”

Before I could see the painting, I heard what seemed like growls, and I quickly saw Carmilla take Laura’s hand and take a few steps back. I immediately knew and jumped out of the window; I didn’t care anymore.

Among the shadows, I could see the familiar silhouette of the beast, its eyes fixed on Laura and then shifting to mine. Carmilla stood behind me, then wrapped her arms around one of mine.

“Let me go,” I murmured to her. “If it jumps, I won’t be able to defend you. Take Laura away.”

Laura’s father quickly went in search of the rifle, and I stood guard. Finally, the creature vanished in the blink of an eye, just as in the inn, during my first encounter.

“God!” Laura’s father exclaimed, pointing the rifle. “I can’t see it from here.”

The girls quickly went inside, and I finally joined after a few minutes. While they tried to compose themselves, Carmilla poured herself a glass of wine.

“It seems you’re unwell, Carmilla; you should have a little wine,” Laura said.

“Yes, I think so. I feel much better now. In a few minutes, I’ll be completely fine. Yes, I’ll have a glass of wine.” And, approaching the door, she added, “Let me take a glance; maybe it’s the last time I’ll see the moon with you.”

“Are you really feeling better, Carmilla?” Laura asked.

Carmilla affirmed, and for the rest of the day, the atmosphere was very tense. The Beast dared to get closer, just steps from Laura and Carmilla’s necks. Finally, both Laura and Carmilla were able to contemplate the modest painting that the restorer had made of me, and Laura hung it next to the one of the woman resembling Carmilla.

“It’s beautiful, both are beautiful!” Laura exclaimed with her bright eyes. She touched her cheeks with her hands, blushing.

“Pray tell, my dear Laura, which of these doth capture thy fancy the most?” Carmilla asked with her soft, melodious voice.

“I can’t, I couldn’t say. Both are precious! It’s like contemplating a beautiful princess and an adorable prince, like in the chivalric novels! I feel so happy.”

My face flushed, and I surely looked like a tomato about to explode. It was cheesy but flattering. Carmilla glanced once more at the painting and whispered in my ear, “Wouldn’t these two make a lovely couple, don’t you think, Miguel?”

I tried to ignore the comment, but something came to mind. “Girl from the past, boy from the future... How strange.”

I noticed that Laura had picked up the same habit as Carmilla, locking doors. I didn’t pay attention since I had nothing to fear, but I considered it, thinking that maybe someone had snooped through my things.

Carmilla appeared friendlier towards me, even preparing and offering me a cup of tea while we were alone. I politely accepted, and it was quite good.

“What type of tea is this?” I asked.

“’Tis naught but herbal tea, my dear, a concoction to grant thee ample vigor.” she said, elegantly smiling. I was grateful things were getting better. As dusk approached, I couldn’t stop thinking about the beast and how close it had been to us. So when night fell, I gathered my things once more, assuming the creature might be closer and encouraged leaving again.

When I opened the window, I heard a faint noise from Laura’s room. I didn’t want to snoop; it’s creepy to watch a girl while she sleeps, but curiosity got the better of me, and I approached. Peeking through the window, I saw Laura lying on her bed with closed eyes, and Carmilla was on top of her, kissing her passionately. I quickly descended from the place and felt awful. “I freaking knew it, they’re lovers! Why did I have to intrude?” I felt a pang in my heart and certain confusion. “No... it’s none of my business. It was too good to be true. Damn it! Snap out of it! This isn’t the time for foolishness! There’s a creature outside killing people!” I ran into the woods and began to feel the presence of the beast while my mind was still reeling from the scene.

And there, before me, imposing, was the creature. The moment had come, and we engaged in combat. The drums resounded in my head, and I threw myself into it. With a swipe, it threw me to the side, but I quickly regained my composure. With the axe in hand, I managed to wound it, but it moved swiftly and seemed to have good regeneration as well.

It clawed at me several times, like a tiger, and managed to make a few cuts, which I hadn’t expected. It was challenging to know if I could harm it because of its thick fur, but for every claw swipe, I countered with axe cuts.

I tried to surround it and attack from the sides, but it was fast. I leaped toward its face and cut one of its eyes, but it caught one of my legs with its jaws and shook me from side to side while I struck it with the axe in its face.

After letting me go, it lunged at me, throwing me aside, hitting me against a tree that broke and fell, making a loud noise. I tried to stand, but my leg seemed to take its time healing, more than usual. It attacked me again with its jaws, and I stopped it with the axe. In the struggle, the axe handle broke, and it attacked once more. I kicked and then punched, and it made some noises resembling a dog’s whines, while making sounds that seemed like laughter, similar to a hyena’s. In between each hit, it managed to bite my arm, and I screamed in pain.

“Ahhhh!” I yelled after it opened a deep cut with its jaws. Finally, it managed to reach my neck, burying its fangs in my right shoulder and starting to shake.

I heard shots in the distance and the sound of barking dogs; this scared the creature, and it ran off, disappearing into the shadows. A couple of peasants tried to talk to me and quickly took me in a sort of cart.

As I looked at the stars, I felt empty. My spirit was shattered, my heart was broken into a thousand pieces, and my body was a mess. I was losing consciousness, and from afar, I could hear a doctor fervently talking with Laura’s father, the maids shouting and moving around, and finally, sobs—the sobs of the first girl I had befriended, Laura.

At that moment, I understood that I hadn’t gone to fight the beast or save anyone; I had gone to die, to commit suicide. I have failed you, Dad. I have failed you.