A knock at the door drew Lillik’s attention, her eyes turning from the potion she was brewing in the main room of the inn.

  She paused, listening. The heavy rain drumming against the roof and sloughing off the eaves made it hard to hear. Had she imagined it?

  She raised a leg, the sensitive hairs standing on end to taste the air. She paused. There was a person out there.

  Familiar.

  Another knock. Louder this time. Determined.

  Lillik shifted, her spider eyes flicking around the room, checking the shadows for traps. One eye remained fixed on her potion equipment, keeping part of her focus on the delicate brew.

  She approached the entrance, moving silently. She didn't unlock it. She wasn't foolish enough to break the sanctuary of the inn for a stranger.

  Instead, she slid back the heavy iron cover of the viewing slit at eye level to peer into the dark.

  For a moment, she saw nothing but rain.

  Then, a face appeared on the other side of the wood. Not a stranger.

  A single, emerald pupil locked onto hers through the slit.

  Lillik tried to flinch back, but her limbs felt suddenly heavy, as if filled with lead. The sound of the rain faded into a soft, rhythmic hum. Her eyelids fluttered and closed.

  Click.

  Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

  Lillik pulled the door open.

  Warm, yellow light spilled out from the inn into the dark, illuminating the face of a small, grinning child standing in the downpour.

  Lillik’s breath hitched.

  “...Hello, little one,” Lillik said, her voice tight, clicking slightly in her throat. “Why are you out at night?”

  The child tilted her head, staring up at Lillik with big green eyes.

  Lillik froze. The blood ran cold in her veins.

  The girl had messy hair and bright eyes. She looked exactly like Nomi—before the mutation. Before the wars. Before Lillik had failed to protect her.

  The Spider’s hand curled around the doorknob tighter, her knuckles cracking. She observed the child carefully—the way the rain seemed to slide off her without making her wet, the way her eyes didn't quite focus on Lillik, but through her.

  “...No.”

  Lillik’s tone was uneven, her voice clicking in her throat as she fought the urge to step aside.

  The little creature paused, her expression locked at neutral. The rain seemed to mat her hair down, making her look small and freezing.

  Lillik’s hand trembled, pulling the door wider.

  Then, she stopped. The smell of rot, hitting the tiny sensory hairs on her legs.

  Lillik’s eyes grew clear.

  “...Carmilla.”

  The little eyes hardened instantly. A small smile crossed the thing's lips.

  The illusion shattered like glass.

  Lillik gasped, her body jerking violently as she woke up.

  She wasn't standing in the open doorway. She was standing pressed against the heavy oak door, her forehead resting on the wood, her hand gripping the deadbolt.

  She had nearly undone the lock in her sleep.

  She looked through the viewing slit again. The monster was standing in the rain where the dream-child had been.

  “You.”

  Lillik slammed the iron cover of the viewing slit shut.

  She threw the secondary deadbolt, locking the sound of the rain out. But the voice carried through the thick oak as if she were standing right next to Lillik’s ear.

  Lillik watched the shadow pass the window.