Hungerstone

by Kat Dunn

Carmilla holds an allure, like ghosting a finger around the edge of a flame: the temptation, the beauty, and the anticipation of pain. I should want her gone. And yet.

I killed my heart, the raw beating thing that cried in horror at the monstrousness of what had just occurred. I drove a nail through it and buried it in unhallowed ground.

Let me state what I want and watch the sky as it fails to fall.

What is a monster but a creature of agency?

In my mind, as clear as a bell, I see Carmilla, the heart of her face and the sharp snag of her teeth as she smiles, hear her cold, inhuman laughter.

matches the last sentence of the original!