Femme Fatale

Trouble

The crystals of ice crunched under the soles of her boots as she made her way through the frosted grass that led up to a house. It was big and extravagant, but it also showed signs of age. It appeared to be a very old house, perhaps even older than herself, and she was 113 years old. Carmen grabbed a slip of paper out of her pocket and glanced at it. It had Tate's last known address written on it in Carmen's small, cursive handwriting. It matched the house that stood before her. A soft sigh left Carmen's lips. Had she been human, she would have been able to see her breath in the air considering how cold it was, but that was not the case. She was technically dead, so she did not generate any body heat.

Ripping the piece of paper up and carelessly dropping it on the lawn, she went around the back of the house and opened an unlocked window that led to the kitchen, climbing inside the house and shutting it behind her. There didn't seem to be anyone home. There were no cars in the driveway, and no lights were turned on. Carmen strolled through the kitchen, her feet loudly tapping against the ancient wooden floor. "Tate, Tate, Tate.. where on Earth could you possibly be?" She called out in a singsong voice. "Right here." A familiar male voice replied, before he smashed a picture frame over the top of her head. The glass broke in tiny fragments, and created a minor head wound. However, it didn't slow Carmen down any. Her fangs emerged and she growled angrily, raising her leg high to kick him in the face. The kick propelled him backward, causing Tate's back to hit the wall roughly. "Who the hell are you?" He yelled. "Don't give me that crap. You know exactly who I am." As she raised her fist to punch him in the face, Tate grabbed her wrist roughly and broke it, a loud snap coming from her body. A loud scream of pain escaped Carmen, the fracture beginning to heal quickly. Tate slammed her up against the wall, grabbing her by the throat. Just as he did when he turned her.

"Who. Are. You?" He spat angrily, glaring at her. With the little oxygen that filled her lungs, she managed to speak. "Chicago. 1921. We met at a bar. You paid for my drink, and some guy attacked you with a knife. Yes, I'm aware you compelled me to forget that. That memory came back eventually. I tasted some of your blood, and when you drained me of all my blood, you turned me into a vampire." Tate was wordless, only staring at her with fury in his eyes. "So you do remember." Carmen's lips parted, smirking slightly. She then kicked him in the shin and pushed him off of her, backing into the living room. At least now, she was strong enough to push him off and defend herself. "I'm been keeping track of what you've been doing, Mr. Montgomery. It appears you haven't been the most well behaved boy, have you?" She taunted. Tate walked toward her. "I had my humanity off when I had done that. I didn't give a crap what I did, who I hurt." Carmen rolled her eyes, placing a hand on her hip. "Clearly. Even though being a vampire has worked in my favor, what you did to me was still wrong. What you did to other people is wrong. Which is why I'm going to kill you." She shot him a glare and charged at him, tackling him and knocking him to the floor roughly.

Taking a vase from a nearby table, Carmen smashed it against Tate's head and punched him in the face. Tate quickly overpowered her and effortlessly threw her across the room like a ragdoll, causing Carmen to hit her head on a glass table when she landed on the ground. A groan left her lips as she stood up. A stake fell out of the inside pocket of her jacket, and rolled towards Tate. Tate reached for it. "No!" She yelled, rushing to grab the stake from his hands. The two got into a struggle, pulling at the stake, hoping the other would lose their grip and give up control. Carmen backed him up against the wall, struggling to grab the stake from his hands. "You're a monster. You deserve to die." She said with a devilish smirk painting her lips. Carmen finally got the upper hand and managed to grab the stake out of Tate's hand. Carmen was about to plunge the stake into Tate's heart when Tate kicked her in the abdomen, knocking her into the glass table. The glass instantly shattered underneath her, and small fragments of glass became stuck in her skin. Carmen groaned in pain as Tate got down on his knees and hovered above her, forcefully snatching the stake from her hand.

Tate raised his hand, bringing the stake down towards her in a stabbing motion. Carmen stopped him before it punctured her, trying to push Tate away. "You think you can just come into my house and attack me? You're wrong, little girl. To tell you the truth, I regretted what I did to you. Regretted. Past tense. Not anymore." He said in a low voice. In between groans, Carmen replied. "I was supposed to have a normal human life, with children. I was going to have friends and a husband. You took that from me. You took my innocence from me." Carmen stole the stake back from him and was about to stab him in the heart with it before Tate plunged his hand into Carmen's chest, a firm grip around her heart. A gasp left Carmen, looking up at him with fear in her eyes. Tate roughly jerked his hand, ripping her heart out of her chest.

Carmen took her last breath, her eyes fluttering closed as any signs of life left her body. Her skin converted to a light grey color, veins popping through her skin. Tate stared down at Carmen's lifeless body, dropping her heart to the carpet. He pushed himself up off the ground, standing up. He made his way to the kitchen and turned on the sink, a comfortable mix of cold and hot water pouring out of the faucet. Using soap and water, Tate vigorously scrubbed the blood on his hand, which he was having a bit of trouble doing. Blood wasn't the easiest to clean off. Eventually, he got all of it off and he headed back into the living room, staring at the body in his living room. A soft sigh left his lips. He thought about what Carmen had said to him just before he killed her. "I was supposed to have a normal human life, with children. I was going to have friends and a husband. You took that from me. You took my innocence from me." She was right about that, whether he wanted to admit it or not. Despite having just murdered her, he did feel bad for her. Behind all of her pain and that sadistic exterior, she just wanted to be loved and live out a normal human life. Instead, she was doomed to live an eternal life filled with suffering and pain, where you watch your loved ones grow old and die while you're still there, not aging a day. Perhaps he did her a favor by killing her. Perhaps he ended all of her suffering. Tate leaned up and picked up her body in his arms, carrying her outside. He took her around the back and plopped her body down, grabbing a shovel from the nearby shed. Even though she had just attempted to kill him, she still deserved a proper burial. That was the least he could do to make up for what he did to her all those years ago.