Snow White Sorrow (43 page)

The movie in the mirror showed Snow White walking into a cemetery, now wearing warrior armor stained in blood, thousands of vampires lying dead at her feet. She stomped over an abandoned grave that was left behind with no care. Snow White kneeled down and touched the tombstone. Upon it, Carmilla’s name was engraved:

Carmilla Karnstein

The Queen of Sorrow

1777 - 1812

The Snow White in the mirror laughed in a tone very different from the way she laughed in real life. It was an evil tone. “I killed her,” she said. “I killed them all; I rid the world of all vampires, including my beastly mother.”

Carmilla shielded her face with her hands from the mirror. “No,” she said. “She wouldn’t do that.”

“Why wouldn’t she?” Bloody Mary wondered. “She is the chosen one, the Dhampir girl. It’s foretold in ancient books that she will be half human, half vampire, with extraordinary powers, royal blood, and undeniable beauty. She, your daughter, Snow white, will be the end of vampires in this world, for she will be become a deadly hunter, and a legendary savior of the world of humans. Even if she doesn’t, you will die soon when you start aging again and die because only one of you can live like the prophecy says.

“What do you mean age?” Carmilla’s face tightened. “This can’t be true. Angel tuned me into a half-vampire. I’m not supposed to age anymore.”

“Is that true, my dear Queen?” Bloody Mary mocked her.

The mirror then rippled again and showed Angel talking to the gypsies about her illness before transforming her into a half-vampire. The gypsies told him that Carmilla’s transformation was irreversible, and that turning her into a half-vampire was only going to save her for so long. Sooner or later, she’d start aging at a rapid rate until she would eventually die. There was no way Carmilla could escape her fate as long as her daughter lived. Angel had lied to her.

“I can’t believe this,” Carmilla buried her face in her hands, crying so hard her body shook. “I can’t believe Angel lied to me.”

“See?” Bloody Mary said. “You, my dear, are one of us now.”

“One of you?” Carmilla frowned, lifting her head.

“One of the Sorrows, the original ones,” Bloody Mary said. “You will become a vampire and you’ll belong to the Sorrows. Being a half-vampire does not ensure your youth and immortality. Sooner or later, you’ll need to complete your transformation in order to save yourself. Only then will you become the real Queen of Sorrow, ruler of the kingdom and ruler of your fate.”

Carmilla’s eyes yellowed and her cheeks were flooding with black tears. “Who are you?” she asked the mirror.

“I’m the one who can give you what you want, your majesty. You could have everything,” Bloody Mary said. “If you want to stay beautiful each day of your life—and stay alive—to experience the real powers a vampire queen should enjoy, be strong enough to face your daughter when she reaches the age of sixteen, and stop allowing her to suck away your energy. All you need to do is taste human blood.”

The images in the mirror turned back to the other vampire women, now swimming in the blood of their victims. Carmilla watched them. She licked her lips and ran her tongue over her fangs. The women were bathing in blood and honey, bending their bodies in total ecstasy. The mixture was healing the wounds on their skin, infusing sparkle into their eyes, and toning their smooth skin, making them look even younger than the young girls they had bitten.

Suddenly, Carmilla snapped, her face returning to normal. “No,” she said, taking a step forward toward the mirror as if wanting to fist fight it. “If only one of us can live, it should be her. I’ll die for her.”

But Carmilla’s words were meaningless. Bloody Mary reached her scarred hands out of the mirror and pulled the Queen inside.

“Enough,” Snow White said next to Loki with tears in her eyes. “I can’t take this, but I had to show you.”

“What happened to Carmilla?” Loki asked. Carmilla had been sucked into the mirror and was nowhere to be found in the room. He could only see the mirror’s surface turning red and hear screams behind it, as if the mirror contained a world of its own behind its glass.

“She came back as someone else,” Snow White said, “someone…evil.” The first thing she did was feed on the poor young peasant girls of Sorrow to complete her transformation as a vampire.”

Loki stood speechless. He was overwhelmed and confused. Part of him wanted to sympathize with Carmilla, and part of him couldn’t imagine the endless young girls she was about to kill. Loki imagined that this turned Carmilla into a vicious vampire eventually, and that she must have really tried to kill her daughter later. If only Snow White hadn’t gotten so emotional, he’d have asked her about what happened next.

“It’s OK.” Loki told Snow White. “You don’t have to show me more. I understand. Just bury your worries in my arms.”

“No, you don’t understand,” Snow White sobbed. “You have to see the final scene of the dream.”

The Wind of Change was transferring them to the final scene, which was where the dream had all started, back in Carmilla’s bathhouse.

“Do I really have to see this?” Loki said, standing in the bathhouse already. Loki pulled Snow White closer and hugged her tightly, chest to chest, heart to heart, and didn’t let go of her. Even if he had to see this, he didn’t want Snow White to watch the horror again, so he buried her face in his chest.

“Just close your eyes as the scene passes,” Loki said. It still confused him why she insisted to show him the bathhouse memory. Was it about that thing he felt she wanted to tell him but couldn’t?

“Everything changed after that day,” Snow White said in a muffled voice. “My mother made her full transformation into a vampire. Her craving for blood grew stronger. She bathed in blood of young peasant girls she’d lured into the Schloss. They were poor girls, orphaned, lost, looking for work and for a better life; young girls who were naively excited about meeting the enchanting Queen of Sorrow. She fed on their youth. The girls grew old instantly, and she gained their youthfulness. She’d become a beautiful vampire who sucked not only blood, but youth.”

Loki saw the Queen bathing in the blood of young girls she had just bitten. She sank her body into the apple-shaped tub full of blood, milk, and dark chocolate. She laid her head back and inhaled deep through her nostrils, and let out a long sigh of relief, staining the steamy air with circles of vapor.

Loki wondered why chocolate and milk with blood? Was this some youth preservation ritual?

But that wasn’t of importance now. He couldn’t believe his eyes, seeing this new Carmilla, having turned into a monster that only looked beautiful on the outside. The way she lay in the bathtub, enjoying it, was as if she was devoid of all heart and soul. She didn’t care about the girls she killed. She didn’t even flinch or feel sorry for them. She loved killing them, feeding on their youth and bathing in their elixir of life.

Loki tried to avoid staring too long at the horrible scene. He imagined there were dead girls—now old—lying on the floor somewhere and he was grateful he didn’t see them or he’d have ended up screaming and he didn’t want his presence to manifest itself in the dream. This newly turned Queen would be more than happy to kill him and Snow White in this dream. His eyes caught silhouettes of the poor girls on the floor, and his brain refused to comprehend. It was just a dream, he told himself. He’d wake up with Snow White when the Waker’s sand finished falling, and they’d both be both alright.

“My mother started breaking the spells she had created on the borders to occupy my father with the exhausting war against vampires. It diverted the locals from digging deeper into the mystery of the disappearing young women, focusing on the war instead. They thought the disappearances were caused by the few vampires sneaking into the kingdom.”

The Queen stood up in the tub. The servants covered her body with a white robe with pearls sewn into it. She pulled it closer with her chin up, sniffing the scent of blood and steam, feeling the power of youth running in her veins. A servant handed her the crown and she put it on her head before the servant started braiding it into her hair again. Another servant rolled her favorite mirror back into the bathhouse. The Queen stared at herself in it. Although her lips dripped with blood and her body was covered in it the mirror deceived her with the most beautiful reflection. The Queen’s mouth curved slowly into a victorious smile. “Mirror, mirror, on the wall,” she said slowly.

“It’s Mary, Mary, on the wall, my Queen,” Bloody Mary said happily.

“Who is the fairest of them all?” the Queen of Sorrow asked again.

“Finally, she could see her reflection in the mirror and indulge in her vanity,” Snow White narrated as Loki watched. “And of course, no matter how I sucked on her energy, she’d become immune as long as she was one of them and slayed more girls.”

“Horrible,” Loki said. “I just can’t believe this is the Carmilla who sacrificed everything for you and Angel.”

“She needed more blood, more girls, and another bloodbath. Like people addicted to drugs, she was addicted to her beauty and youth in the mirror. Sometimes, I think it was the only way for her to forget her evil nature. What good was immortality if it was without youth and beauty?”

“You my majesty are the fairest of them all,” Bloody Mary said.

“Her cravings grew stronger and stronger,” Snow White continued. “And there were side effects of bathing in blood. The more she repeated the bloodbaths the more her skin and health deteriorated in the absence of the ceremonies. One bloodbath would gift her with three days—a week at most—of prosperous health and exceptional beauty. Then it was time for another bloodbath or she would grow older, faster than before.

“Did she try to hurt you?” Loki asked, holding her tighter.

“Not then,” Snow White said. “She became selfish, and her bloodbaths killed her true heart. She didn’t realize she had become a killer. Black holes filled her heart day by day, a step closer to turning her into the likes of my immortal grandfather, Night Sorrow. She denied my father her blood, claiming she had become weakened by the process and being tired of it; that he had to respect her wishes and find a another way to feed himself. She wanted him weakened and hesitant of his love for her and his need for her blood. And he was so busy with the war that he didn’t see the big picture or her terrible plans. And of course, she had little time for me. She grew more distant, looking at me in strange ways and avoiding conversation. I think she was trying to find a way to fight her cravings, but was worried about her sudden aging whenever she stopped the bloodbaths. And then…”

“And then what?” Loki gasped.

“And then my famous Snow White journey began,” Snow White said. “She sent me to the Black Forest to collect roses and play with the wolves without me knowing what was really going on, why she suddenly hated me, why she was jealous of me, or why she wanted me dead. She sent the Huntsman after me to kill me,” Snow White lifted her head and stared into Loki’s eyes. She was sobbing harder, and Loki saw the air rippling around them again, the way it happened when they were close to exposing their presence to Angel and Carmilla in the cottage. “He’s a vicious person, full of darkness in his heart, and she told him to stake me in the heart and bring it back to her, along with my liver as proof of my death.”

Loki was amazed that Axel’s theories were mostly right. But digging deeper into the mystery of all those fairy tale characters was the least of his concerns. The air around him was rippling harder with Snow White’s continued sobs. He wanted to hold her even closer to his chest to muffle her cries a little. But he didn’t. He decided it wouldn’t be right to deprive her of expressing herself. Sometimes tears, although painful, wash the pain away, and he wanted Snow White to let it all out, even if it meant manifesting their presence in the Dreamworld.

“That’s how they thought vampires—Dhampirs in my case—were killed at the time. Her plan was to rid the vampires, and herself, from the threat I was imposing as the chosen girl. She also wanted to use my blood to bathe in, and gain my powers for herself. She was blinded by lust for beauty and power,” Snow White continued. Then she cried out her last words, “My mother had become my own enemy.”

That was when Loki saw the Queen of Sorrow noticing their presence in the dream.

Loki saw the air ripple like radioactive waves before his eyes. The Dreamhunter and the dreamer’s identity had been exposed in the Dreamworld.

In a flash, the servants tilted their heads toward Loki and Snow White. They seemed shocked for a moment…all but Carmilla.

She turned her head toward the intruders. She did it slowly as if she had all the time in the dream on her side. It was as if she’d been expecting them. A wicked smile curved on her fine lips as she looked at Loki holding Snow White tighter in his arms. It was as if he was protecting her from a hurricane that was about to huff and puff their lives away.

The Queen of Sorrow’s confidence was intimidating. Loki expected her to snarl at them with fangs and red eyes. Instead, she held her chin up high, brushed her hair back behind her shoulders, and looked down upon them like a lion watches its prey. Her face oozed with vitality, shining bright and deceivingly elegant as if there was no beast living behind her blue eyes.

A trickle of blood dripping from her lips exposed her disguise, and showed her wrath. Slowly, her tongue appeared from between her heart-shaped lips. It wasn’t a human tongue. It looked more like a snake’s tongue, forked and split at the tip. It was thin and it stretched long enough that the Queen managed to lick the trickle of blood from her chin. Drawing her tongue back, a smile curved itself on her face. She closed her eyes, swallowing the blood then opened them again. It was puzzling how she looked so beautiful and yet capable of doing something so gruesome. She wiped her lips with her fingertips, showing a pearl ring around her middle finger.

Loki was speechless, almost paralyzed, and unable to shake the Queen’s presence away. Carmilla was incomparable to all of the stories he had heard before. Her presence was powerful and unavoidable. Again, Loki experienced that strange feeling like he had when he was in the closet and felt the need to obey the Queen. It was a wicked feeling, as if she was able to control him in some way. It was if he had to obey her, and he needed all his strength to resist her deadly charms. No wonder they called her, ‘She Who Must Be Obeyed.’