The alley was bewitching. Cradled against the chest of the beauty, its paths gleamed under the moonlight and stars. Ravishing and enticing, it had always been a magnificent place for a girl so lonely in her gothic, fanciful castle to stroll. But near Carmilla, this place nurtured another kind of beauty—dreadful, before which we shiver but can't help but reach out.

Oh, how lonely you were! Not a soul in a league, trees looking menacing and dreadful, and not a single shoulder to lean your head on. Only you, your father, and a few servants remained. But her face, with its blossoming pink hue of blush, alive and glowing under the clear night sky, made your heart stutter and flutter, desperate to break free from the cage of your ribs. It seemed as though you had known her your whole life, or even longer—the curve of her lips and her hair tickling your face ever so subtly, like the kiss of life, as she leaned in to whisper something in your ear with a tone so melodic and sweet, even sweeter than all the fruits you'd shared with her...

Carmilla perched herself on the edge of the bench, taking a breath in. Slender fingers reached for yours, and she tugged you to sit near her, not letting the faint touch depart. "We are sealed together," she had told you. "Bound together, until the crow tears the invisible string of connection between our graves apart."

"Oh, how I love you, my dear!" she whispered, her voice warm against the skin of your face, her grip tightening around your fingers. "I would die for you, and you would do the same, wouldn't you? It feels like I have known you for years. Even death could not tear us apart..."

Sometimes she fell into a kind of seizure—languid and passionate at the same time—as she clung to you and declared her love all over again. Her eyes glistened, and her lips parted with a sigh, just slightly baring her teeth. After a moment, she pressed herself harder against you.

The vicinity was quiet.