"Truth, love, faith and goodness shall always prevail!" Elle's father's voice echoed in her mind as she trembled under her bed sheets. Ever since that strange incident about three nights ago, wherein a strange but pretty lady had suddenly appeared in her room to snuggle with her, the young child had lived in fear of that lady returning. Although the lady had been very kind and gentle, Elle had felt the strangest sensations around her, all of them dark and almost foreboding. There was something suspicious, almost sinister, about that woman, sweet and pretty as she had been, and Elle feared the night they might meet again. But as she lay there, trembling alone under her bed sheets, she could hear her father's strong, comforting voice ringing through the darkness and bringing a small ray of light through the shadows and into her heart.
"God will protect those who are faithful to him and his angels shall always triumph over Satan and his demons. Evil shall perish at the hand of goodness and none who are faithful will ever be left behind or unprotected," her father's voice continued to speak through her memories and, scared as she was upon this dark and moonless night, a sense of peace settled over her. Even though she was worried that the strange lady might come back to her to haunt her again, with her father's gentle promises of eternal triumph for all those who walked on the side of goodness humming through her brain, the little girl soon fell into a deep, dreamless sleep and the lady didn't come at all.
"Do not worry, my child," Elle's father told Elle, caressing her long brown locks tenderly. "Mme. Perrodon will be ok, I am sure of it."
"But Papa, you've had every doctor within 50 miles come to try and heal her and she is still very sick!" Elle's little voice was shrill with fear and distress, tears threatening to spill from her eyes as she thought about the poor old woman resting in her bed upstairs. Mme. Perrodon had been stuck in that state for almost a month now, barely able to speak or move without great pain and effort and it burned Elle's heart to see her like that.
"Oh, Papa! Papa! Please say she'll be ok! Please say she won't die?" Elle begged, burying her face into her father's waistcoat. He could feel her tears through his shirt and his heart went out to her. He pulled her into a hug before offering up a few more words of comfort.
"Do you not remember what I told you before, years ago, when you were afraid?" he asked her gently. "Didn't I tell you that goodness and love will always triumph over anger, fear, sorrow and evil? Mme. Perrodon will live, God willing, and even should he choose to take her home to her place in Heaven, she will still have won, for the Devil won't have a single inch of her soul, and instead, she will have found eternal rest and everlasting peace and happiness. I promise you this, Elle, even if I can promise you nothing else," the old man continued to caress her hair.
Although he wished terribly that he could've given her a more concrete oath, he could do no more than remind her that Mme. Perrodon would get through her sickness, one way or another. Although one way was a little less pleasant than the other, he continued to hold his daughter close and remind her that even if Mme. Perrodon succumbed to her disease, she would not have lost. Instead, she would've been rescued in another way, taken to another place far more wonderous and happy than the one she was leaving behind. Once there, then, she would stand at Heaven's gates, with Elle's mother, waiting for Elle and her father to join them once again.
"It will all be ok in the end, my darling Elle, I promise you this, for the angels will always win..."
With a mysterious plague sweeping the countryside and Elle, herself, feeling a bit under the weather, Elle's father had brought in a doctor to come and inspect the young girl to make sure nothing was wrong. In the end, he declared her relatively healthy, nothing a few basic medications could not cure! But Elle hadn't liked this idea one bit, recoiling in disgust the moment the doctor mentioned a prescription to her. And Elle's father, who was in the room with them at the time, caught sight of Elle's grimace and chuckled warmly.
"Don't worry, my darling," he murmured to her, resting a warm hand on her shoulder. "It will not be bad, I promise."
"Are you sure about that?" the girl asked her father sarcastically, but she couldn't hide the merry light in her brown eyes as she looked up at him.
"Of course!" Elle's father replied passionately. "Remember what I told you, darling, that so long as you are good and faithful, nothing can ever triumph over you! No sickness or death, no monster or malady, will ever truly harm you in the end so long as you remember..."
"That goodness always wins," Elle finished her father's words. "You say that all the time!" she pretended to complain, but she was smiling.
"That is because they always work!" he replied convicted and Elle could not argue with this.
But she could argue with the medicine, however. It burned all the way down and left a foul taste in her mouth. It was only her father's continued, gentle reassurances that kept it down in her stomach after she had drank it.
"That's it! That's a good girl! That's my girl!" Elle's father murmured as Elle obediently, albeit reluctantly, drank down the last bit of her medicine.
"That was disgusting!" the girl muttered, quickly handing the now-empty medicine glass back to the eccentric doctor.
"Just remember, darling, that this medicine is only here to help you feel better," her father reminded her gently while she wiped her mouth.
"It will do you no good to get sick now, for then how could you spend your days with Carmilla if you were bedridden?" the old man added knowingly, and the moment he spoke the name of their houseguest, Elle's face lit up like the sun. Even though the foul taste of the medication refused to leave Elle's mouth, as thoughts of Carmilla filled up her mind, that taste became secondary and she began to smile wider and wider every second as she already ran through, in her mind, all of the various, wonderful little adventures that she her nearest and dearest companion could enjoy. Once said companion woke up, that was. She did always have a strange habit of sleeping in very late, but Elle didn't mind at all. She just couldn't wait for Carmilla to wake up again and spend time with her!
Meanwhile, Elle's father watched Elle's face light up at the mention of her friend and he, himself, gave a little smile. It did his aging heart good to see his precious child so happy! And once again, silent thanks and praise to Carmilla echoed around the man's head. He owed her a debt he could never repay, for she had made his little girl smile like no one else ever had. And since Elle's happiness was his happiness and Elle's happiness was all due to Carmilla, that meant likewise for him. See? Goodness would still triumph! Even in dark times like this, love would always win out and the angels would triumph over the demons, no matter what shape they presented themselves in!
"Worry not, Carmilla dearest," Elle found herself comforting the weeping girl and, without even realizing it, she began to use her father's words as her own. "For no matter what we may suffer through, it shall all work out in the end, for goodness and love always triumph over hatred and evil. Your demons will never defeat your angels!" the girl ran her fingers through her companion's thick, dark hair soothingly, cooing to her.
Carmilla was, in a word, mysterious, but even she was not above human emotion and connection, as evident in this one particular moment where she seemed to be mourning her absent mother. This mother, unlike Elle's was not dead, but she had left Carmilla at Elle's schloss for an indefinite time period and it seemed that Carmilla was beginning to miss her terribly. Now, out of instinct alone, Elle was comforting Carmilla and giving her the same promises and reassurances her own father had given her time and time again. They had never failed her, so why should they fail Carmilla? Or at least, that was how Elle saw it. Though it seemed that Carmilla had other opinions...
"Goodness? Love? Triumphing over evil? Bah! And my angels? I have none! Only demons! But what then? What do you say to a battlefield with only one army present? My demons are the only thing that have ever won for the are the only thing that exist!" the other girl spat with a sudden change in tone, tears practically forgotten in a moment of disdain and annoyance. She even shook her head as though she were chastising Elle, dark eyes flashing with contempt, tears totally gone. "Goodness has won no battle, and the angels will not triumph tonight!"
"No, Carmilla, my dearest, don't talk like that," Elle murmured, nuzzling the other girl's shoulder in attempt to calm her. Normally, venomous words like this would've shocked Elle to her core, being very blasphemous, but in this one instance, she chalked it up to Carmilla's distress. Along with probably missing her mother terribly after so many months apart, there was still that plague going around the countryside and even though Carmilla had seemed to be unaffected, no doubt the general stress about such an issue was taking a toll on her as well...
Elle continued to console and comfort Carmilla through her unhappiness. The other girl didn't really mean the things she said, right? Those harsh remarks were just a coping mechanism! Right? But instead of receiving an agreement from Carmilla, Elle only got another bitter look.
"Sometimes, the angels don't protect. Sometimes, love doesn't triumph. Sometimes, the demons win..." and even though it was a warm, summer day, the air around her and Elle suddenly felt much colder.
"LOOK AT ME!" Elle thundered. It was one of the few times in her life that she'd ever raised her voice, and one of the first that so much genuine anger and hurt had been in her voice when she did so. Her eyes, glistening with angry and wounded tears, pierced Carmilla's body and she extended her bleeding hand in the direction of her lover. Finally, forced into action by Elle's demands, Carmilla's own eyes slowly raised, and the moment they caught sight of that beautiful red liquid, dripping slowly down Elle's soft skin, a sudden fury washed over her face and she let out a horrific, snake-like hiss, two sharp fangs growing out of her canine teeth. Eyes narrowed and teeth, fangs, bared, she was a sight to behold.
She even took one hungry, threatening step forward, fangs seeming to glow in the summer sun slanting in through the window behind Elle. Elle, on a reflex, took one frightened step back as Carmilla's fangs became hideously clear to her. For a moment, Elle felt only fear, wondering if she hadn't just signed her own life away through provoking Carmilla in such a way, but then that fear turned to the purest and utmost betrayal.
When Carmilla made no further move to attack, choosing instead to try and hide her fangs behind her gloved hand, Elle lowered her own bloody one, a look of disbelief, disgust and dismay replacing her initial fear for her life.
"So, she was right... You're a monster!" the girl murmured expressionlessly.
"I can explain-!" Carmilla took another step towards Elle, but this one was pleading instead of threatening. Elle still took a step back.
"No! I've had enough of your lies..." now their roles were reversed, Elle's eyes narrowing as she took a harsh step forward, leaving Carmilla to drop her eyes in shame and terror as she tried to shrink away from Elle's fury. "All of your promises, all of your talk of a new life!"
What ensued was an argument, though it was highly one-sided, Elle screaming and crying, demanding to know how Carmilla could've been so cruel as to lie to her and hide this from her and do all of these wicked, sinful things to her in the bed at night without her knowledge or consent. Carmilla, meanwhile, tried to get her own word in edgewise, but a combination of Elle's refusal to listen her own fading courage silenced her until all of her arguments and protests were only clogging up in her throat, right behind her cursed fangs. While Elle continued to accuse, Carmilla could only stare at her in pain, accepting every barbed word in silence and guilt, clearly wishing to explain to Elle, but lacking the words.
"Don't worry," Elle muttered at last, eyes cold and dark as the last of her angry fire burned out into deadened ash. "I've told her where you are. She'll send someone to deal with you," then, without another sound or another look, she brushed past the girl she once adored more than life itself. Elle walked right out of the room, making sure that she shut the door behind her as one last, little message that all of her love for Carmilla had just come to a close, just like the door itself, the last of her fond feelings for her lover dying as the door clicked shut. It was a subtle but powerful symbol of a final separation between the two of them.
While Carmilla sank to the floor, sobbing into her hands, Elle continued to walk forward, fighting hard to keep the burning tears at bay. She bit her lip and dug her nails into her injured hand, trying to fight emotional pain with physical, silently berating herself for being an idiot and a fool. She continued to curse her own name as she walked away from Carmilla and the door that had separated them for the last time, commanding herself to not shed a single tear over the vampire.
As Elle walked away, however, right before she reached the door of her schloss, she thought she heard Carmilla call out her name. It was soft, almost a whisper, but so full of pain, regret and apology that Elle couldn't help but turn around. The way Carmilla had cried out her name had not been in a pleading tone, begging her to stay, but had been in a truly remorseful and wounded way, as though she were trying to acknowledge how much she had hurt Elle's faith with her lies. That alone had forced Elle to turn around and wonder. Maybe if Carmilla would be willing to take the blame and apologize fairly without begging her to stay or do anything in return, Elle could forgive her. But no, there was no one there. And Elle was certain she had hallucinated hearing that voice.
Then she thought she heard her father's voice, coming to her aid once more, coming to comfort her in her hour of need again just like always. Unlike Carmilla, Elle's father had never failed her. But even he could not help anymore, for even though Elle could hear his voice in her mind, promising her that everything would be ok no matter what, she couldn't help but whisper out her own disagreement with the absent man.
"No, Papa, everything is not alright, and for once, I don't think it ever will be again. You don't understand it, but how could you? This bond that we shared. This bond that she lied about. The one that never existed. For how could someone like her ever truly love someone like me? It had all just been a beautiful illusion, Papa. And this angel was really a demon all along, and sometimes, the demons win," then Elle exited her schloss, heading to the carriage waiting below.
Elle stood over a massive pit, a hypnotic white light glowing from the pit's stomach. The light wasn't too terribly bright, but at the same time, it was impossible to see anything else within the pit where it rested. All Elle could see was whiteness, and one black silhouette. The silhouette belonged to an intimating and powerful woman, standing beside Elle and staring into that impossibly white, bright void, only while Elle's vision was unfocused and dazed, the woman's was sharp and careful, analyzing every little last detail of the pit in which they stood. While Elle's thoughts were misty, hazy, wild and confused, the woman seemed to twitch in irritation and impatience, an intense gleam in her eyes.
At last, then, the woman flicked her hand towards the pit in a forward, gesturing motion. Elle's body obeyed that motion at once, moving closer to the mouth of the pit, closer to the endless light that lay within. Elle's mouth moved.
"I want to go to the party..." it was a soft, confused mumble, spoken by someone who sounded like she wasn't quite all there, but neither she nor the only other woman present to hear it made any remark about it. Instead, as Elle inched ever closer to the mouth of the pit, the woman's hand still silently gesturing her body onward, Elle's thoughts only became darker and more muddled. But then suddenly, when her toes were peeking over the edge of the pit, her sense of sanity had been restored to her with hideous and abrupt clarity. Suddenly, the gravity of this situation had sunk in and Elle finally began to realize that she was standing over a giant, endless pit, about to jump.
Elle could feel the way her legs were tensed that she was about to jump, but she wasn't even sure that she wanted to. All she knew was that her mind was too muddled to fight off that feeling in her body, the one that urged her to jump, even though someone in the very deepest, darkest recesses of her mind was begging her to stay. Suddenly, then, she began to panic. She heard one distant scream and she wasn't quite sure if it was hers or someone else's, but that didn't matter. What did matter was that that scream had woken her up and now, all the young brunette could do was scream herself, begging, pleading and crying, screaming for freedom and release. She demanded and bargained with her captor that she be released, that she not have to jump, that she be allowed to keep her life, but there was never any answer and although her mouth and mind were free, the rest of her body was still very much enslaved to this unseen force. She could tell that it was standing behind her now, but she could not turn her head to see. She could only continue to beg through her tears to be forgive, spared, saved.
Elle cried out for her mother, her father, her two governesses, for God himself, or for any of his many disciples, servants and angels, or anyone, to come down from up on high to rescue her, offer her salvation. But no one was coming, no one could hear her, no one would answer her prayers. Not tonight, or ever again. Then at last, with one dismayed, desperate and almost subconscious cry, she felt one final name tear itself from her throat. Carmilla. One name, short and sweet, one wounded howl, and it was almost like speaking that name was what killed her because, suddenly, all at once, Elle had returned to that zombie state. Her screaming ceased at once, the last of her tears rolled down her face and no more came to replace them. She stopped struggling, physically and mentally, suddenly gone again, dazed and half gone already. All of her feelings and fears had been silenced and muted again and despite being closer to death than ever, none of it registered with her. Her face went blank, eyes seeing but uncomprehending, but as her legs pushed off the cold hard ground and towards that beautiful, all-encompassing light one tiny, tiny sliver of sense came back to her for one last time and all she could think was, sometimes, the demons win.
After exactly 148 years in Hell, Elle had finally amassed enough strength and power of thought to plan her escape, and her revenge all at the same time. Disregarding all the other young girls trapped down here with her, Elle planned and plotted, mulling over thought after thought, eyes cold and hard as she schemed against the treacherous Carmilla and all of the rest of her idiotic band. Pacing around the shadowy reflection of her schloss that she was now imprisoned in, the young woman went from scowling to cackling. Slowly but surely, her soft, deranged chuckle filled the air and raced down the halls until all the other girls trapped inside with her were trembling from fear. They did not know why Elle had suddenly begun to laugh. All they knew was that it scared them deeply, and they all hid as Elle began to stalk the halls, almost triumphant, as she continued to giggle and cackle. But while they, maybe, didn't know why Elle was suddenly feeling so merry, Elle, herself, did.
It was because, at long last, Elle had finally come up with a suitable revenge plot and was more than ready to enact it, no matter how terrible, evil, sinful or morally wrong it was. She had long since forsaken her old sense of morality anyway, and neither honor or loyalty nor truth meant anything to her now. All that mattered was victory, and now at last, she had a feeling that her final victory was close at hand. For once, something had gone right in her miserable life and she was ready to collect upon it. This victory, she could feel, would mostly certainly be hers. Sure, she might have to break a few hearts, and a few necks, but that was just life for you! Who cared? Everyone did that! Besides, if anything, Elle felt that this sort of possibility of potential violence and cruelty only increased her odds of success. Why? Well, because, if there was one thing that life had taught Elle, it was that sometimes, the demons win, and this time, that was exactly what she was playing the game as!
AN: Just a random fic I wanted to write that chronicles Elle's descent into madness and disillusion. She goes from believing that good always triumphs over evil to coming to realize that, if anything, evil wins its own fair share of battles too, and this time, with her acting as a player of evil, she decides that she likes her chances of victory. If good little Angel Elle was always doomed to lose, maybe Demonic, evil Elle would win. Or at least, that's her logic by the end of the story.