Carmilla

by J. Sheridan Le Fanu

Reader, do you remember? Rather than endure the shame of being paraded around by Octavian, she took up an asp and permitted it to bite her. She invited death.

It was like the ardor of a lover; it embarrassed me; it was hateful and yet overpowering; and with gloating eyes she drew me to her. Her hot lips traveled along my cheek in kisses; and she would whisper, almost in sobs, “You are mine, you shall be mine, you and I are one forever.” Then she would throw herself back in her chair with her small hands over her eyes, leaving me trembling.