Guided by instinct, like a cursed moth chasing darkness, they arrived at the mouth of a cave. Thick vegetation draped the stone wall, veined with moss and vines nearly erased by time.

  The air smelled of old earth and damp iron; the trees themselves seemed to bend, watching like an eternal jury as the two intruders approached.

  “It’s here,” she said, placing a pale hand against the runes carved into the stone. Her fingers traced a slow caress along the faded circles etched with symbols from dead tongues. “Theo, step aside.”

  He nodded quickly, backing away. Carmilla stood before the sealed stone gates. From her coat pocket she drew a pendant—a golden medallion dangling from a chain. It bore a scalene triangle within a circle, inscribed with words so small they were nearly unreadable. The script matched that of the runes before her.

  She lifted it toward the entrance, as though presenting a chalice at a sacred mass.

  “Opna, Swar Beforan.”

  Theo’s eyes widened as golden light burst from the pendant. A beam shot forth, striking the gate with a resonant hum that sent the surrounding leaves swirling. The runes along the doors came alive, their yellow glow threading through every groove like blood through veins.

  Carmilla stood steady, the medallion raised, letting it work until its glow began to fade. The light reflected in her golden iris, making her seem, for an instant, part of the spell itself.

  Theo held his breath, jaw clenched, sweat dripping down his temple. His fists tightened until the gloves squeaked faintly under pressure.

  With a grinding rumble that shook the soil beneath their feet, the doors began to part. Vines snapped, and dust rained from above, revealing a perfect black void beyond.

  A dry wind spilled from the opening, carrying the scent of ancient stone and forgotten ash.

  Carmilla turned toward the boy as she tucked away the medallion.

  “Light,” she ordered, her face impassive, her posture regal and unyielding as she prepared to step inside.

  Theo blinked, startled. Quickly, he conjured a white spark between his palms, forming a glowing sphere that floated beside them. The orb hummed faintly—as though even its magic feared the place it entered.

  With her hands clasped behind her back, Carmilla advanced in solemn silence. Her black boots struck sharply against the cracked concrete, echo after echo. Theo followed close, keeping the orb steady.

  Behind them, the gates began to close again, sealing off all connection to the outside world.

  The boy swallowed hard. He forced every ounce of willpower to keep his lips and legs from trembling.

  “Are we…trapped…?” he whispered, eyes wide on his superior.

  Carmilla said nothing. She ignored him completely and kept walking.

  The darkness ahead was endless. It devoured everything. From the ceiling came a steady drip of water—an eerie rhythm without a clock.

  The glow from the orb illuminated just enough to make the small spiders scurry into the cracks of the walls. A tall, endless corridor stretched ahead—wide enough for entire squadrons to march through.

  “I thought it’d be like a dungeon or something. You think the High Elves actually used this place thousands of years ago?” Theo asked, his voice softened by Carmilla’s quiet. “I don’t see many side passages or traps. Looks more like an escape route.”

  “No. It’s not an escape route,” she corrected coolly, keeping her golden eye shut. “It’s a prison.”

  Theo froze mid-step. “A… prison? If it were, we’d have found cells by now—or bodies.”

  From the far end, a heavy impact shook the walls and ceiling. Dust rained down over them. The jolt startled Theo so much that he instinctively grabbed Carmilla’s arm. She didn’t react—her calm was absolute, untouched even by the boy’s muffled whimpers.

  “This one isn’t ordinary.” She smiled faintly. “It was built to contain a single creature.”

  Theo’s eyes went wide. “Wh-what kind of creature?”

  Another impact, harder this time, rattled the stone beneath their boots. The dust curled into brief, human-shaped silhouettes before dissolving.

  “One they couldn’t kill.”

  Carmilla’s smile deepened in silent delight as she strode ahead. Against the dim, floating light, her silhouette looked like the outline of a crowned specter.

  Theo hunched, trembling, summoning a blade of azure mana that he swung at every moving shadow cast by the sphere ahead. Each echo of their steps sounded like the breath of something unseen. The vibrations grew closer with every strike from below. Whatever prison this was—it was welcoming them.

  By mistake, Theo stepped too far. He screamed, realizing too late his fatal error: he hadn’t looked ahead. Just before the abyss claimed him, Carmilla seized his tie. With effortless strength, she held him suspended in one hand.

  Theo flailed, arms spinning wildly until he steadied himself. He muttered his thanks again and again, while she simply gazed into the massive pit. The tremors were coming from below.

  “Hmmm. I see,” she murmured. “Must be an Isdran Sentinel…”

  She opened her mouth. A black spider waited patiently on her tongue. She plucked it out between two fingers and tossed it into the abyss without warning.

  “Expand,” she commanded, extending her index and middle fingers in an arcane sigil.

  The small spider ignited in black fire, swelling grotesquely until it was the size of the car they had arrived in. Each limb cracked like breaking bones as it grew.

  Carmilla grabbed the amazed and stunned Theo by his tie again, dragging him along as though walking a reluctant dog. She leapt onto the spider’s back, which shifted obediently to receive its mistress. In quick zigzags, the massive arachnid descended along the wall.

  The echoes of distant impacts grew louder. Theo clenched his teeth, shivering as the spider’s coarse hairs brushed his legs. For the first time, he saw a human expression on Carmilla’s face: seriousness. He swallowed hard.

  I wanna go home…!

  He pleaded inwardly. If something could worry Carmilla, that meant danger. Something greater than her. That terrified him most of all.

  Her grip around his necktie stayed firm as she stared down at the light growing at the bottom of the chasm.

  The enormous spider finally reached the ground. They arrived in a ruined arena surrounded by broken columns. Carmilla leapt from its back with practiced grace, landing atop a carpet of bones draped in torn robes and rusted armor.

  Theo crashed down far less elegantly, sprawling across the floor. Groaning, he opened his eyes—only to be greeted by a skull inside a corroded helmet. He screamed and flung it away, scrambling upright.

  Carmilla was already inspecting the dark arena with meticulous calm. The glowing orb revealed little beyond layers of dust, shattered staffs, and rusted blades. There was no sign of the tremors’ source. The shadows devoured everything.

  Her golden eye darted from side to side, sharp and focused. Then came silence—dry and unnerving. She felt the predator’s presence before it struck.

  Her brow strongly tightened. In an instant, she seized Theo by the arm and hurled him aside like a rag doll. She dove in the opposite direction.

  SPLASSHHH!!!

  A colossal sword crashed down, crushing the spider behind them.

  Greenish blood and entrails splattered across the ground like a bucket of paint spilled over white linen.

  Massive torches flared to life along the walls, revealing not one but two towering stone knights. One wielded a sword and shield, now dripping with viscous green ichor. The other raised a gigantic axe in one hand.

  Theo couldn’t help himself—he wet his pants at the sight of those massive, moving suits of armor.

  “The magi of old truly knew how to make their Sentinels last,” Carmilla mused with serene amusement. “Too bad the craft’s been lost…”

  The knight with the axe advanced, each thunderous step shattering what remained of the columns. Its target was clear: the boy cowering on the floor, crawling backward in terrified desperation.

  It raised the huge weapon, ready to strike. Its twin with the sword and shield turned toward Carmilla.

  “WE’RE GOING TO DIE!” Theo screamed, covering his face. “I DON’T WANNA DIIIIE!”

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  He squeezed his eyes shut, teeth clenched, resigning himself to fate.

  Carmilla smiled—confident, almost entertained. She extended her arm toward him.

  A muscular black limb of dark fire materialized, grasped the boy by the torso, and flung him aside once more. Saving his life, albeit with the tenderness of a collision against marble.

  Theo’s back hit a pillar hard enough to make him cough blood. Pain flared down his spine, dazing him. Through blurred vision he saw the two knights closing in on Carmilla, their synchronized march heavy enough to make the air itself tremble.

  “C-Carmilla…” he gasped, stretching out a gloved hand, trying to conjure an escape portal, but the spell fizzled uselessly. “Please, run…”

  Instead, the woman remained still. She didn’t move an inch. She tilted her head slightly, lips curling into a sly, feline smirk.

  An arrogant smile.

  “Let’s not waste time,” she said with a low chuckle. “Such a shame to destroy such craftsmanship.”

  With one hand, she removed the patch from her left eye, revealing a vertical scar sewn shut with fine stitches. She cast aside the black fabric like it meant nothing.

  In that instant, the atmosphere changed. The torches flickered violently. The flames themselves seemed afraid of the cursed power beginning to radiate from her.

  Theo, forcing himself to stand amid the debris, felt a shock of raw, negative energy surge through his body. He couldn’t describe it. He only felt fear. Overwhelming, primal fear. His heart pounded erratically, breath coming short and ragged as the woman opened her sealed eye.

  Each tremor of the approaching knights made the scarred eyelid twitch, parting bit by bit.

  Carmilla clasped her hands together in prayer—palms fully open.

  “What the hell…? WHAT THE HELL IS THAT MANA?!” Theo screamed.

  Sword and axe rose like twin guillotines.

  Carmilla didn’t care.

  “Final Style.” she firmly said.

  Slowly, unbearably, her eyelid lifted—revealing a black sclera and a deep violet iris that gleamed like poisoned crystal. Black flames erupted around her. A void swallowed all light in the arena. The fires died with a single, icy breath that nearly split the boy’s soul in half.

  A woman's scream echoed—piercing, otherworldly—bouncing through every inch of rock and earth. Theo clamped his hands over his ears, eyes shut tight.

  Behind Carmilla, a skeletal figure appeared, cloaked in black and wielding a scythe burning with purple fire. Red light pulsed from its hollow sockets.

  "Hi, mom~!" She said as casual as ever. "Care to help me a little?"

  It lunged forward, the blade arcing toward the advancing statues—

  Impact imminent—

  SSSHHHHIIINNNKKKK!!!!

  After the shrill clash of metal against stone, the spectral figure dissolved completely, leaving behind only the flickering traces of its purple flame as it faded into nothing.

  The torches reignited. Theo gasped for air, trembling from the terror of having witnessed such an invocation up close. When he finally looked up from the ground, he saw the statues—frozen mid-swing—begin to split apart vertically.

  The knights, along with their weapons, were cleaved clean in half by a single, perfect strike. They toppled with an earth-shaking crash, raising a voracious cloud of dust and shattered debris.

  From within that thick haze emerged Carmilla, walking slowly, a polite and satisfied smile on her lips. Almost innocent in its contradiction.

  Theo coughed several times, shielding his eyes from the dust. Perplexed, he stared at his superior—untouched. Not a single scratch. Her boots barely stained with dirt. The coat still draped across her shoulders like a loyal servant.

  When his gaze met her violet eye, he screamed from the tearing sensation that ripped through his soul. Nothing had touched his body, yet his spirit was being stabbed in a dozen places at once just from looking at her.

  Carmilla sighed, rolling her eyes with a disappointed tilt of her head. She twitched her fingers, and from the shadows manifested a strip of black fabric, which she used to cover her cursed eye once again.

  She looked down at her subordinate sprawled on the floor—blood in his mouth, dust in his hair, chest heaving. Taking him by the back of his coat, she began to drag him across the ground as she hummed a careless tune, pulling him like a sack of potatoes, not even bothering to heal his wounds.

  Theo pressed a shaking hand to his chest, trying in vain to heal himself. He cast a miracle spell, but his catalyst gloves sputtered erratically—the mana of his soul wounded, unable to flow after being shredded by that gaze.

  Carmilla, faintly smiling, carried on toward the far end of the arena, where a metallic gate of blackened steel awaited them. She lifted his exhausted hand, removed his glove, and tossed it aside.

  From her pocket she drew a small folding knife and flicked it open. With a swift motion, she cut across the sweaty palm of the boy’s hand.

  Theo yelped, cursing through clenched teeth. His fear and confusion boiled into fury and resentment. Still wearing that small, patient smile, Carmilla pressed his bleeding palm against the center of the door.

  “The blood of a pure heart, spilled to release a corrupted beast,” she murmured as the runes on the metal flared crimson.

  They twisted and unlocked with a deep mechanical groan. The doors slid open, revealing a sterile, dark chamber.

  Inside, a creature lay wrapped head to toe in tight white bandages. Like a spider’s prey. Dozens of chains bound its neck, pinning it to the floor. It was motionless. Unalive.

  Carmilla released Theo’s arm, discarding him like a used napkin. Her shoes echoed across the cursed cell, empty of all life.

  She smiled faintly at the sight: a human-sized cocoon wrapped in ancient-printed cloth, the faint shape of an adult fetus pulsing beneath.

  Carmilla sat beside it, her posture calm, reverent.

  Theo watched in horror, his trembling legs barely able to support him as he slumped against the wall.

  She lifted the cocoon into her lap like a newborn, cradling it with grotesque tenderness.

  “Shhh… Mommy’s here,” she whispered, voice dripping with sickly affection. “Mommy’s here now…”

  With deliberate care, she began unwrapping only the head, revealing a skull crowned with long, dark hair. Mummified skin clung to bone.

  Theo’s eyes widened in horror: the jaw bore sharp fangs, the eye sockets were hollow, the flesh cracked like concrete left too long under the sun.

  Carmilla bit her thumb until violet blood welled out, unfazed by the wound. She pressed her bleeding finger to her own forehead, marking it with a cross—then did the same to the corpse’s.

  Drops of that twisted liquid fell into the creature’s gaping mouth, seeping down its dry throat as she muttered a prayer in a tongue long forgotten.

  Silence followed.

  Theo, clutching his abdomen, forced himself to stand, his back screaming in pain.

  “What the hell… is that?!” he spat through his teeth. “Are you insane?! You—you almost got me killed!”

  Carmilla ignored him entirely. His angry shouting echoed uselessly off the stone walls. She only continued to cradle the corpse, rocking it gently.

  Theo fell silent when he heard it. A low, dry voice rasping from the mummy’s throat.

  “...Blo… od…”

  His eyes bulged.

  Carmilla smiled faintly—and without hesitation, drew the same knife across her own neck. Positioning herself above the creature, she let her blood flow freely into its mouth.

  Their eyes met. Her calm, serene smile never broke as her lifeblood poured. Theo couldn’t process the image of her suicide.

  Each drop that landed revived the thing in her lap.

  The mummy began to twitch, then convulse, straining against its cocoon until the bandages tore apart. Black claws burst through. With a hideous roar, the creature lunged, tackling Carmilla to the floor and sinking its fangs into her throat.

  “Yes… eat,” she whispered with a blissful smile, stroking the creature’s matted black hair as it bit deeper, drinking greedily. “Let me feed you…”

  Her mouth overflowed with blood, yet her expression was one of peace.

  Theo gagged, nearly vomiting, stumbling toward the exit. He searched frantically for his missing catalyst glove.

  “I QUIT! I’M DONE!” he screamed, limping through the rubble in shock. “I FUCKING QUIT!”

  The sounds of devouring echoed behind him—the chain’s rattle, the wet tearing of flesh, the beast’s guttural growls feeding its strength.

  Theo dropped to his knees, hands trembling as he pawed through the debris. When his fingers finally closed around the glove, the chamber had gone silent.

  His heart froze. Silence meant only one thing. She was dead.

  Praying to every god he could name, he poured all his mana into forming a portal—anything to escape. He gritted his teeth, veins bulging, shouting as the blue vortex spiraled open. It didn’t matter where it led—an island, a wasteland, the ocean, the void. Anywhere but here.

  Panting, he staggered toward it, laughing shakily through his panic.

  “Thank you for your services, Theodore Myers.”

  Theo’s legs locked. That voice—Carmilla’s.

  He turned slowly, his expression frozen in horror.

  She stood there. Perfectly alive. Not a drop of blood. Not a wrinkle in her clothes. Smiling. Content, radiant.

  “I couldn’t have done it without you,” she said softly. “Of all the operatives, you were the only one with a pure heart. Kind. The only one who never killed or harmed another soul.”

  She chuckled, savoring the young man’s terror.

  “However, I’m afraid… we’ve just found your replacement.”

  Before he could react, something slammed into him, pinning him to the ground with inhuman speed and strength. The portal closed.

  He struggled violently—and froze when he realized what it was. A woman, nearly naked, wrapped in torn bandages. The same long black hair, the same fanged mouth as the corpse from moments before.

  The feral woman, eyes glowing violet, turned toward Carmilla with a manic grin. Carmilla nodded once.

  At her silent command, the creature grinned and sank its teeth into Theo’s neck.

  “AAAGHHHHH—! GHHHAAAHHHH—! N-No—nononono—STOP IT, PLEASE—AAHHHHH!”

  He screamed—a raw, animal shriek—as she tore into him again and again, biting through flesh, muscle, tendon. Swallowing mouthfuls of him with moans of savage pleasure.

  “GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF ME! CARMILLA—! CARMILLAAA—AAAHHHHHHHH! NO MORE—NO MORE—PLEASE—I DON’T WANNA—AAAGHHH—!”

  Theo kicked and flailed, choking on his own blood. The woman pressed his head to the floor with a hand and, with one final violent jerk, ripped out his larynx completely. A wet snap sounded. A hollow choke followed.

  “Ghhk!!!—ghrrhhkkhh…”

  Then only the hiss of breath bubbling through blood, and silence heavy enough to drink. She raised her head, face drenched in red, chewing the pulp between her teeth. Theo’s body lay still, eyes wide. His last sight was the calm, smiling face of Carmilla watching from afar.

  “Elfrana,” Carmilla said.

  The feral woman turned, gnawing, eyes gleaming.

  “You may devour all his body. If you’re still hungry, I’ll grant you his entire family.”

  The voice carried an otherworldly resonance, vibrating in Elfrana’s skull.

  She grinned once more, fangs slick with crimson and violet.

  Ripping open the boy’s shirt, she clawed into his abdomen, pulling free his intestines in a wet cascade. Moaning with obscene delight, Elfrana devoured every strip, holding handfuls of the viscera like sausages between her fingers.

  Carmilla watched her new pet feed, pride glinting in her eyes.

  “Soon you’ll hunt a little girl for me.”

  Her smile deepened.

  “But I won’t allow you to eat her.”

  …

  …

  …

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