[Illa, Our Suspcious Ginger!]

  Illa fell to the ground in a tangled heap, her mind in total rejection of reality as laughter bubbled out of Belleza and her children.

  “She killed herself! She actually killed herself!”

  All Illa saw was Scarlet’s hollow eyes, blood now freely flowing out of her chest, soaking into her dress, and running down her legs to pool along the floor.

  “What… No, Scarlet… Why?”

  With the mist no longer blocking her, she tried to get up, but Kastilla suddenly sat on top of her, the ugly bag of bones restricting her with her own powers.

  “Aww. Look, the pet is heartbroken.”

  Her father materialized in front of Scarlet, laughter in his throat. “Clearly not as much as her master. Hahaha. I wonder what she tasted like—”

  “Don’t…touch her!” Illa yelled, strength flooding her limbs and heat rising in her chest. The man stuck his finger inside the hole in Scarlet’s chest with a taunting chuckle. “Get—off me! I said, don’t…”

  Kastilla chortled and playfully patted her shoulder, the blow dislocating it and likely causing bone damage, yet her mist kept Illa from collapsing. However, her struggles soon ceased. But it wasn’t from the bone-cutting pain or the desperation clawing at her chest that said she was going to die; it was the forgotten words that budded within her breast—the words her mistress spoke to her the day before meeting Scarlet. A switch flipped.

  “Carmilla, there is a chance this will not go our way. The Tower needs your talents, so should you truly think your life is about to end, then you know what to do… Return to me.”

  Her cold blue eyes lifted to Scarlet’s dead corpse, unease settling inside Carmilla’s breast, and her emotions settled. Her focus sharpened while taking in everyone in the area. Illa was awake; she was the Myth of Carmilla…a Dormant Seed awakened by her mistress. The only image she had of the elegant woman was that of a devilish outline.

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  Elizabeth isn’t afraid, she quickly assessed, seeing the helpless child-like countess flexing her fingers. They’re distracted, and she’s going to attack when…something happens. Scarlet isn’t dead… She told me to run.

  “W-What?” Kastilla snarled.

  A smile lifted Carmilla’s lips, revealing her fangs as she transformed into fog, slipping through the gaps in the vampire’s own mist to reappear beside the door. Kastilla was right beside her, somehow having gained Leopold’s sword that was now held at her chest—these monsters were the real deal—she didn’t stand a chance.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t be worried about me,” she giggled as the haunting shrill of the castle’s music returned through the walls; the fog around them thinned as a warm pressure eased out of Scarlet’s corpse. “Your father seems to be having some trouble removing his finger.”

  “Father?” she asked, her brother and mother now focused on the man's stiff frame. “My spiritual force is…being overshadowed?! Mother!”

  Scarlet’s hand slowly lifted to close around the man’s wrist, but Carmilla was already sure he was dead when the blood entity lifted her illuminated crimson eyes to the mist fiend. Sweat broke out across Carmilla’s body as those all-encompassing globes slid from her to the petrified man in front of her; whatever this was, it was not the Scarlet she’d been chasing after all night.

  In a voice totally unlike the timid, unsure girl she’d clung to, Scarlet hummed while staring right through the man. The mist dissipated—more like it was smothered. No one moved. No one could move.

  “You dare touch my soul?” Scarlet whispered. “Very well. Then feel its weight.”

  “I’m sorr—”

  Carmilla flinched with everyone else as the vampire exploded into bloody mist before being drawn into Scarlet’s open mouth. Elizabeth slipped out of Belleza’s trembling grip, clearly shocked that she was trembling by the look on the bony vampire’s face—her husband had been slaughtered in an instant, and she doubted it was only his body that was crushed.

  One thing shook Carmilla to the core, though—one reality—she didn’t gain any experience from that kill. She should have gained a level—likely two or three from a vampire that strong. Whoever this Scarlet was, she did not see them as friends.

  Run! I need to run! Move! Why…can’t I move?!

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