Her first touch with reality after a lifetime is a five-inch fall out of thin air as she drops onto the dusty smelling carpet floor in wagon 7 of an intercontinental train across western Canada in torn and muddied clothes, twigs tangled in her hair and a crushed primrose flower in the confines of her left fist.
When she wakes up, they tell her that her name is Laura Hollis and that she’s been missing for three years.
There have always been time travellers.
As far as humanity reaches back, there’ve been stories of the ones that can walk through time. No one knows much about them - there’s talk about creatures with too long limbs and too sharp teeth, claws instead of hands that can rip out hearts with a sweet-tongued prayer and the lines they write with their own blood to mark the things they change.
And change they do.
It is like a universal rule that the world requires balance and that consequently, every action leaves its traces.
(Laura has worn hers since birth.)
Laura keeps on meeting a mysterious girl everywhere and weird things happen as they try to figure out how they are connected to each other.
Hopefully before it kills them.
“Do I look like a good person to you, sweetheart?” Carmilla bares her teeth in the facsimile of a smile, her canines just that bit too sharp in the way they catch the sunlight to be human and it’s obvious from the wariness in her eyes that she’s expecting Laura to jump up and run away screaming.
Laura, however, leans in curiously, tongue peeking out as she focuses on Carmilla’s face and while the object of her interest visibly holds her breath, Laura pokes the sharp tooth with her index finger as if to test that it’s real.
The dark-haired girl reels back, utter bewilderment written plainly across her face. “Do you want to get bitten, cupcake?”
Laura just grins smugly. “Yeah,” she says, putting the sunglasses back on Carmilla’s nose where they promptly slip off and drop to her lips. “You’re very scary.”
Everyone's afraid of Carmilla and new student Laura Hollis just Doesn't. See. It.