She trembled in the hot night the hair on her body stood on end “I have to do this” she said to herself she walked up the steps to the mansion that looked to be in disrepair she walked to the front door she held out her right arm a blade of crimson generated she swung it in a downward arc cutting the door off the hinges. She stepped into the building, every step a creak. The foyer was dimly lit, with mattresses on the floor stained with dried blood. A musky odor filled her nose. She walked throughout the first floor of the building, stepping over puddles of crimson and severed limbs. A young woman with brown-red hair was lying on one of the mattresses, her body covered in wounds, healed and reopened scars covered her entirely. She walked over, sensing her vitality, and she reached out her hand to wake her. She rolled over eyes hollow as if the soul in the body had long been broken and scattered to the wind. “I'm here to help, let me get you out of here,” the woman whispered. Something. Carmilla knelt. “I'm sorry, can you repeat that?” the woman weakly whispered out once more. “Please kill me.” Carmilla’s body stood frozen. “I can help you. I'm here to help,” the woman whispered the same again, tears carved tracks through the dryness on her face. “Please,” She sat down, cradling the woman in her arms, “Shhh, it's ok now.” The woman whispered her plea again. She placed her palm on the side of the woman's head; her hair was sticky. Carmilla held back tears. “I'm sorry I couldn't save you. I'm sorry they hunted you when you couldn't even defend yourselves. I'm sorry, I was too afraid to fight him alone. I'm sorry, I was afraid he'd keep me mutilated in his room as a plaything again.” Her imposed stoicism broke, and tears flowed down her face. “I was afraid, but now I won't let anything like that happen anymore,” she flexed the muscle in her arm, a blade of crimson shot through the woman's temple and out the other side, through tears she said again “Im sorry, please know that the monster who did this to you and the others is gone, burning in the depths, i pray that his sins cause him an eternity of damnation in the lakes of fire”
She cried for a moment and then stood up, laying the body of the young woman down gently before closing her eyes. She walked towards the basement of the mansion, her green eyes shifting to crimson in the dark. She saw torture implements stained red. The floor was sticky with every step pulled on her shoes. She walked through, found a pipe in the basement, and pulled it clean off the wall. The room began to fill with gas. She walked back up the stairs and up to the room that once belonged to Grigori. She kicked the door off the hinges and a bed in the shape of a heart on the floor of the room, stained crimson. She walked through the room, pictures hung on the wall, littering it from floor to ceiling. “His victims,” she said under her breath, voice trembling, a large hook hung from the ceiling, she touched it gently, flashes filled her memory of her missing her arms and legs, hooks driven through the flesh under her clavicles. She raised her other arm to feel the area on her body she touched, feeling the soft skin there. The memory of unbearable pain seared onto her mind, and she also saw his memories, the sensation of satisfaction in his mind, seeing her there defenceless a plaything to be used as he saw fit. “Never again, I will never bow ever again,” she saw in his memory again her hand from the hooks. “It's better when you struggle, reminds me you still fight, makes you better prey than most.” She pulled the hook down from the ceiling
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“Burn o purging flames, purify that which is unclean from this world, destroy the darkness that encroaches on existence.” Carmilla held out her hand mimicking the image of a firearm, and pushed her thumb down; the mansion exploded outwards in a ball of fire. She sat down on the side of the road and pulled a cigarette from one of her pockets, her hands trembling as she raised it to her mouth. She raised her hand to a small mote of fire, lighting it. She inhaled and started coughing, the cigarette falling to the ground. The sight of it made her laugh. She placed her hands on her knees and stood up through tears. She shouted, “I'm free,” staring into the sky, she shouted, “I'm FREE.” She wiped the tears from her face and stood there for a moment, looking back at the ball of fire and smoke behind her. She raised her foot before stepping forward. She said quietly to herself, “If you who didn't make it out of there can see or hear me from beyond, please know that I now walk in your name. I will not let the same injustices that befell you in your lives, no matter how short to happen again if I am able.” She walked forward away from the mansion, back to the city.