The village was sinking. The light of the fire left room for the light of the silver disc hanging in the sky, illuminating the enormous lake. At one end was the smoke from the disaster, the people were no bigger than ants seen from the opposite bank. The icy surface was the vampire's race track running away from the monstrous hairy shadows.

Clouds of smoke poured from her mouth, she somersaulted, avoiding the lupine claws, then two pairs of jaws attacked her, she spun with her torso parallel to the floor and her knees flexed, landing on the heel of her boots - unfortunately not designed for ice - it slipped off when hit by the shoulders of a hairy man.

He dragged her, rubbing the vampire's back on the ice by ten yards, but fell with the tip of Death Kiss cut him from the neck to the waist. Another six tore the dead fellow off to get their hands on the vampire, but smartly she used the dead body as a trampoline before being smashed; she swung backward, hitting the gauntlet on the floor, ending up on her feet.

"Then, who's next for me to kill?!" She whirled the sword between her fingers, her breath enlightened by the moon.

The pack of eleven wolves surrounded her, snarled, barked, drooled, bitten the air madly over the brunette's skin.

"Come on!" She challenged. Hilt between both hands, blade beside her face, the tip of the sword to the sky. "Bring it on!" Her eyes flashed crimson. The weapon devoured her.

Two attacked from the right. She ran against the first, whirling on his back, sticking the sword in the second's head, turned the blade, throwing the corpse over the first. Carmilla stared at the others. But her vision blurred and she cannot avoid the claws of a third wolf to shoot her three yards behind.

A cut on her hip made her roll over the ice, sword slipped off her fingers. Lying down, she saw the wolves heading up for her. Others emerged from the bank at the edge of the forest, mixed with grey Nazi soldiers.

The brunette looked at them. Thirst scraped her throat, scratching her fangs. She got up with that red yarn from the floor to her chin, feeling the taste of her own blood dripping from her lips, smiling sadistically at the situation, nobody would see or know - depending on the nighter, blood could deceive, but those last-rate werewolves like these the taste would be horrible anyway - scarlet and yellow on the promised night of liquid rubies. Looking sideways at every useless man in uniform and every disgusting furry, waiting for their end.

They attacked. It skidded between the legs of one, running to the middle of the lake.

"Death!" she called, and the blade launched into her palm. Another spin and she was in a fighting position, ready; but they slowed down. A howl erupted from a distance. Carmilla turned her face to the sound and the dining car window swallowed her, overturning and throwing the vampire everywhere among the Parisian porcelain crockery, broken glass and dining furniture.

The train wagon spined with the vampire, stopping when the ice broke and the wheels up. Carmilla found herself surrounded by water jetting up to her knees. She snarled loudly, looked for a way out as the floor tilted and raised the icy pool level - the window at the top was the only way out - she pushed the tables, used a bench attached to the wall as an impulse, smashed the window and jumped onto the ice.

But suddenly everything hurt. The vampire froze with a sharp pain in her back, added to the sound of a gun going off. Everything went cold and blurry. And the floor came up to her face.

***

"Stop playing with it!" She heard the werewolves.

Carmilla woke up after that annoying gun at her back. Cold and biting was the wind, the moonlight blinding her eyes. Or was it just an imagination? The vampire realized she had passed out on the lake minutes before. She tried to move, but train tracks tied her firmly to a wooden trunk buried in the snow. The werewolf stench was horrendous, smelled like a dog soiled with mud, dirty with old blood and garbage.

Her fangs were out, and a very bitter taste of gunpowder and metal made her tongue knot. She could barely see the city lights over the tip of the trees and an extensive white carpet interspersed with dark roads.

"Boss! She woke up!" shouted a shirtless soldier.

"Hello Mircalla," said the same voice as before, unmistakably repulsive, equally odious Doran.

"What did you say?!" asked one man.

"I said hello,"

"What?!" He turned his face to hear, Carmilla then saw the holes where ears were missing, in other dressings and, in Doran himself, they were missing the ears.

"No shit! You were the centurion!" The vampire woke up in an avalanche of laugh, that makes her belly ache. Those ears in the pot of Mina Halker were theirs. "I know where your ears are, but you'll have to take the train to get them back! It was you guys!" It was impossible not to laugh.

Brutes werewolves asking the 'hello' that one said, because they were deaf without their ears, cut by Fallvalion and taken away as a souvenir by the young judge. The werewolves jostled furiously. There were over twenty; some with full moon hair, others with weapons and military uniforms, a few without clothes and without lunar fur.

"You two settle that, didn't you?" Doran squeezed the prisoner's shoulder against the trunk.

Carmilla's laugh ceased at once. A burning pain dominated the brunette's back, running red across the back of her leg.

"What a fuck is this?!" The pain was like the Garu's dagger, sniffed metal and the werewolf master confirmed her suspicion.

"Sandstone bronze bullets, cool right." He showed the revolver with a long barrel and shiny brushed steel. "I had made it for me, in case of some problems," He said in a bitten end of anger. "She wants you in charge? So I'll prove to them you are a far worst choice than me. Imagine when they hear about the train, the men, the rumors. The night secret once again at risk because of you," He said, looking at the moon.

The furry ones drooled over her flesh.

"What command are you talking about?" Asked Carmilla.

"Don't pretend you don't know. It was you! The court came here because of you, you called them, and set me up, take the wolf out and put you, a traitor."

"Fuck off! The court came here for you. You and your agreement with growlers. It's your fault!"

"This is war Mircalla! War! Do you know what you have to do in times like these? I couldn't lose. You know what I had to do to get here?"

"Everybody knows," she laughed in a corner. "I always knew you were a coward. But, you got afraid of them, so you bowed to them," Doran held back his roar, but it make sense; since she met him at a ball in England, the smell of a coward was clear. "Tell me, is it true? No one ever believed, the sad and accidental death of the son of the werewolf lord, but was because of that unfortunate accident, that you became the leader. Was that really an accident?"

The furry chief laughed, threw the gun from one hand to the other, turned to the brunette and boasted off:

"Surprise," He said. "Sandstone bronze with platinum mint. In small dozen destroy our body, osteoporosis, symptoms and human diseases, in the right amount kills right on time," It was him, him and this gang he calls clan. "He was a pain in the ass, too big, too strong. Took more than a year for the poison to take his body," the wolves roared in brief laughs. They were all companions of the jerk chief they had. He had transformed them. It was almost an army, but because of the poor administration of Doran, half of them died stupidly.

The vampire took a deep breath; had no conversation with a stupid like him. Her body weighed more than lead. Her muscles slowly invaded by bronze and, thanks to her sword, she was even more thirsty.

"COME ON, YOU ANIMALS," shouted the chief. Three werewolves dug a grave. "When they realize, they will beg, beg for the great Lord Doran, the Schalf clan," He quoted to himself. "When the men ask about the train in the village, they go after you."

Carmilla laughed.

"You are really stupid. Use the train, the village's gone," she laughed, trying to hide the pain of the metal spreading.

"What?!" He looked at the other wolves. They cringed with the alpha's eye attack. "Okay, anyway, the purpose of that night was you, vampire. I hunted you all over town, but you had gone to the lake. Why?"

"Looking for me? Well, I'd rather stick my head in the embers than look at your face, that's why."

Some wolves listened and laughed. The osmosis of smiles swallowed others, leaving the alpha to choke on his own saliva.

"Dig deep!" He was tearing off the bandages to listen better.

Carmilla ignored the growls, thought about how to get out of there, looked over her shoulder, at the hands tied behind her, then her eyes darted to the grave. One more grave for herself.

"You know Mircalla, I always thought something could happen between us," He spoke without turning around and, from the speech. And green bolt climbed the bottom of the vampire's stomach, showing a nausea without size of all thought related to this imbecile and what he said. "Is it too late for us?" He asked in a breath.

Damn prom! Thought she must have killed that useless wolf, so she smelled that pampered boy. The wolves found the growler's body.

"What do you think, Mircalla? Together we could dominate Eastern Europe; you and me, I help you, you help me, together." He smiled like a teenager on an older girl.

"Tell me when you are going to that train stuff again, because I am going to fling myself under that train, better that to anything near you, Doran." The wolves laughed.

"I see. You like virgins; always liked, well she will no longer be a virgin after I visit her today. Who wouldn't notice Laura? Daughter of that surly old man, but that's okay, I kill him after taste his precious daughter," It was instantaneous, the vampire didn't have time to think, just her jaw tightened, her teeth sawed, her eyes thundered with angry red. "Don't worry, I'm not selfish. I know I must share with my pals. What you think, should we take turns, or maybe all at once?"

The metal squeaked on an impulse from the enraged brunette.

"Death!" she roared, and the blade jumped from the soldier's hand that held it.

"Boss!" said another soldier. He held the hilt, trying to stop the sword. In a second he collapsed with the blade devouring him and, leaving a lupine raisin on the floor.

"What did you do?!" Doran turned to the prisoner, pointing the gun.

Carmilla's left wrist burned, the bracelet cracked the tracks, releasing a wild vampire. The gun went off and grazed the brunette in the head, but it was too late, and she pulled two teeth out of that asshole in one punch. She called for the sword, but as soon as she wielded it, the bronze vibrated from her back.

The wolves attacked her. No options without Death Kiss. She dodged awkwardly; the metal was doing its job on her, remembered the strength that helped her, thought of Laura; she had to protect her.

"Fuck!" screeched. Put the sword in her belt, dodged another wolf, when she break the fury jaw. Haunted by the disproportionate strength - werewolves are physically stronger than vampires - she stared at her right hand fingers and saw the gauntlet wrapping itself around the wrist like a combat glove. "I can't pass out." She said to herself, with blood flanking her eye .

She punched two others until Doran roared, turning into a werewolf, and attacked her. He grabbed the vampire's leg and threw it into the trunk with the rails. Carmilla stared at the various enemies, when a strange silent wind engrafted them all in terror.

"AVALANCHE!!!" shouted a soldier.

The vampire took the cue, caught Doran's gun on the floor, shooting three soldiers. Once again, the alpha gave her a punch.

The brunette crossed between the trees and stopped on one of their motorbikes, knocking down ten others on the road. She jumped onto the seat, turned the key and pulled alway, accelerated to the end of the handlebars with the tire crumbling in smoke, the sound of the engine mingling with the silent crash of falling snow, the pale death dragging through the shadows. The other wolves were trying to get away in disarray.

"MIRCALLAHHH!!!" The name was spat out by the wolf behind her. She turned on the bike, aiming with the penultimate bullet in the revolver.

BANG!!!

Doran fell, but the bullet had grazed him, as the vampire was aiming at the tank of the first motorcycle in the line, making a domino of explosions muffled by the avalanche engulfing everything.

The road was almost vertical; Carmilla sped up by bending her body forward, the big white fall almost swallowed her up, when the road planned, an elevation on the right side led to a narrow passage through the side, but the speed was too much for a curve, then she felt her right arm tingle, and metal wires from the gauntlet formed curved spines like hooks on the side. The brunette reached out with the hooks on a log, turning the bike at once with the wheels in the air, jumped sideways until finally she was out of the white fall line.

The white flood covered part of the valley behind her as the bike followed a steep, narrow path in the wall. Carmilla tried to slow down, but she couldn't take it anymore. The vision blurred, and everything disappeared.

***

Everything was dark, Carmilla moved stunned from the numb limbs. She turned her face and a beam of light hit her eyes, closed yet, it was as if her eyelids were transparent. She grunted, pulled in the cold winter morning air. Her legs ached with an effort to bend them, her arms burned with snow, and her head throbbed from an undrunk hangover. With pain and everything else, she opened eyes. Turning on her back, digging herself out of the snow, saw the bare tree trunk and the gray sky.

"Fuck." The memories of last night fell like bricks at her forehead. She sat on the pine tree and saw the trail up to the motorcycle buried in white. "That's because I didn't drink last night." She made herself a grim joke. Massaging her head, she realized it healed the grazing shot. "Last night? How long have I been here?"

Questioned, but her head hurt too much and the body was too heavy for anything.

Dragging herself in pain, everything hurt, even her split ends of hair hurts. Lifted the bike and noticed her left arm that did not respond well. She snorted and hid her purple fingers inside the jacket. With her right hand started the engine, turned the throttle to Punkt.

As much as she wanted to drink, she couldn't. All she had left was to sleep. Carmilla went up the stairs, propped herself up on the corridor walls, opened the bedroom door without a key, locked it, and pulled off all that damp, cold and stinking clothes, threw the sword wrapped in her belt in a corner and, with no clothes more in the body staggered to the bed.

"Bed," Said like a sheep, when a throbbing filled her ears, her heart. "Come on," she whimpered and stumbled face down on the floor. "Laura?!" This last speech let the vampire astonish, surprise, and happy not manifested due to pain.

The blonde was lying in a sleeping bag on the floor.

"Carmilla?" asked in a sleepy voice, rubbing her eyes, the hair still stuck to the mashed face. "Carm? You're naked! Why are you naked?!"

"I think the question is: why are you dressed in my room?" Carmilla said with amusement in her voice, picked up her shirt from the floor and put it on her back, but she did not insist on buttoning anything for the blonde. "So, what are you doing here?"

"Can I stay?" Laura stared at the vampire's pants stretched out on the floor. "Well, I can't stay with Perry right now. She's already had to deal with the avalanche that covered half the house and, part of the city thinks I had something to about the fire on the village, so. I pay the time I stay here,"

Carmilla laughed at the situation. How could they be so stupid? Believing that this tiny human would do all that. Laura continued to talk without stopping, ignoring the nod of yes.

"You can stay," she replied, but Laura had not even listened since she was not silent and, still trying to convince the hostess of the room. "I said I can stay," Carmilla then lifted Laura's chin with the indicator. "You can stay," she spoke close to the face of the homeless journalist.

"Carm," Laura called.

"Yes cupcake,"

"You smell like a basement of an abattoir." Nervously, she looked in any direction that wasn't the brunette. "Where did you go to stay like this?"

"I was around, and where did you go to smell like a camel?" The vampire laughed. "There's a shower here, you know? Or you're going to tell me you stayed locked up in here for three days."

"I was, I couldn't leave, and if you came back and I wasn't here, if they hurt you," Said Laura blushed when saw the malice in the brunette's expression. "Hell no! It's not that. It's just that nobody would find me here, and you're the only one who would believe me. Because you were there, right? Nobody believed, I saw them, those things and the train, they asked me, and I told the truth. They also think that I killed that fisherman I found on the lake bank. It wasn't me, I did nothing, if you tell them."

"They won't believe. Man, don't believe in what they can't see. So take a bath cupcake, and forget about it, it's better."

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?! WE MUST TELL EVERYONE, WARN UP AND IF THOSE THINGS COME BACK? WAIT, YOU JUST DISAPEARED THERE, WHERE DID YOU GO? THOSE THINGS GOT YOU? MY GOD!" The blonde clutched her head in her hands, messing up the hair in need of shampoo.

"Laura," Called Carmilla, overlap the journalist's hands on an informations crisis, the most serious tone full of attention and affection made the Laura calm down. "Go take the camel off, then we'll talk," she said, going to the wardrobe. "What you waiting for? Want me to go with you?" Blinked looking at Laura in the interior mirror of the furniture.

Laura came out breathing heavily, carrying a towel which made Carmilla smile.

***

The vampire came out of the bathroom, drying hair. In a way she was grateful to have stayed in that state, smeared with dirt and stinking like a "slaughterhouse cellar" otherwise, all the marks of the almost healed wounds would show up to Laura. What worried most was on her back. It was sandstone bronze, but it wasn't as bad as Garu's dagger. Only her left arm didn't move well.

Entering the room, she found Laura on the floor in her sleeping bag.

"There's a bed over there." Pointed to the sheets.

"Have a good night there,"

"It's big enough for both of us,"

"What are you doing?!" questioned Laura when feeling the brunette's body next to her on the floor.

"You do not go to bed. As a host, I cannot sleep there. It would be unacceptable while a guest lies on this cold floor. I will sleep here then," said the vampire.

"Okay, we going to sleep in a bed," the blonde surrendered.

They went to bed, Carmilla took the left side, Laura took the right, almost falling over the edge.

"Will you stay there?"

"No, the bed is yours, and you need space," Laura replied.

"Either you. I'm going to squeeze myself on the edge with you, if you don't come closer," Intimated.

"Bloody Hell! What's up between us?!" snorted Laura.

"Nothing yet, but if you want to," smiled the vampire.

"Stop it! I don't know you, but is like I know you, and there are those things, and this desire to hug you, and," Carmilla threw herself at the blonde who hugged her. She hardly believed how much she missed that hug.

"We sleep, after we talk," she said, laying with her ear on the blonde's chest.

"But I want to. And between us,"

"Later, now I just can't take anymore."

Both can't, for lack of sleep, or fighting with a bunch of imbeciles, both needed rest. Laura pulled the blanket over the sleeping brunette's back and gave up on being awake.

***

Eight in the morning. The room remained in silence with the two girls on the bed. The gray light came in through the crack through the window, the curtains in the canopy lowered it even more. It was so warm, soft, calm, a peace once felt by the vampire. Carmilla opened her eyes grudgingly, but was glad to do so, as she found Laura asleep under her, allowed herself to smile with her portrait of closed eyes and messy hair.

"Could she be?" Her heart pounded. The one that once pounded for Ell.

"Who?" the blonde yawned.

"Good Morning,"

"Morning. So back to what we were talking, the creatures,"

"You just woke up, I haven't woken up yet," Carmilla hid her face in the journalist clothes.

"Yes, you woke up, you can begin the explanation," a growl in Laura's stomach cut off the conversation, embarrassing the girl and causing the brunette to laugh.

"We going to talk, but you have to eat first," she laughed.

They went to the bar. At the counter, it served them carrot cake, milk and sausages.

"Not eating?" asked Laura with her cheeks full of carrot cake.

"I have no appetite in the morning," she replied, disguising her desire for the delicious cake, but the bronze would prevent her from eating for a while.

Some men stared at the blonde, considered suspicious and guilty of a series of disasters; whispered mean words, they regarded her with contempt. Laura stopped eating, bothered by them.

Carmilla pulled Laura by the arm.

"Where we going? Wait, the bill," asked the journalist.

"Don't worry," the court's hypnosis still dominated the bartender.

They went across the street. More people glared at the journalist.

"Buckle up Creampuff," said Carmilla adjusting the mirrors on the bike. "You didn't want to talk? Let's talk, but it won't be here." People were whispering the horrendous words, so Laura climbed on the rump, laying her body on the brunette's back and hugging her waist. "Lets take a walk," she said calmly. Carmilla sped up by throwing small gravels and disappearing with Laura at the end of the street.

It would be a long walk for a delightful conversation.