“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?