Vampire Dream

Snow, snow, and more snow outside.  Meanwhile, inside under a mountain of blankets, I dreamed about vampires.

I'd been invited to stay at my Great-Great-Uncle Harry's home for the week.  I knew absolutely nothing about him, other than that he lived in a huge victorian house in the country somewhere outside of Chicago.  The year was uncertain, but everything had a late nineteenth century feel to it.

My rooms were cavernously huge, though sparsely decorated.  Two beds that looked better suited for a hotel room were set against the wall on the left, and opposite them was a small table and chairs.  The far wall was made up of stained glass and warped glass windows, and a door in them opened onto a balcony overlooking a vast dining hall.

That night, Harry was hosting a private dinner.  I wasn't invited, but could easily watch unobserved through some of the clearer glass of the windows.  As they entered, it was like a parade of fashion from the 1920's.  I ducked away from the window as the server walked by, carrying a crystal punch bowl filled with a suspiciously dark red liquid.  I had the distinct impression that he knew I was there, but he said nothing as he served the liquid to the guests.  Nothing else was served, and the plates remained empty as they drank their dinner from champagne glasses and conversed politely, a picture of modern civility.

The next evening, I answered a knock at my door and was surprised to see Cris.  She wore a strapless green gown with a pattern of whorls and spirals that traveled all the way to her ankles.  In the excitement and fear of the night before, I'd completely forgotten that we had been planning to attend a formal dance that night with our respective partners.  Fortunately we had plenty of time before we were due to meet them, and she waited as I ducked into the shower and scrambled to figure out which clothes were my formal ones.

I had just finished getting into my suit when the lights in the adjacent dining hall turned on.  I immediately switched off the lights in my room and crept to the window with Cris.  The same server stood with his back to us just outside the window, with another punch bowl of red liquid.  "Want to try a glass?" he asked without turning around.  I put a warning hand on Cris' shoulder and remained silent.  Shrugging, the man carried the bowl down to the waiting guests.

That night, the dinner progressed with far more energy.  There was laughter and dancing as the guests drained their glasses with relish.  While we watched, the waiter came up to stand with his back to our window again.  "They aren't normally like this," he said worriedly.

I tugged Cris' hand toward the door.  "I'm getting a malicious vibe from them," I whispered.

"I know!" she hissed excitedly.  She looked at me then and I was surprised to see eagerness in her eyes.  With a jolt I realized that the thing I was afraid was about to happen, she was looking forward to. Cris liked vampire stories and had a large collection of novels and movies at home about them.  To her they were the inhabitants of a mysterious, darkly seductive world.

Somewhere deep inside, the part of myself that always remains concious yelled at me, You aren't in her dream!  She's in yours!  This world wasn't the elegant and sensual masquerade of the vampires.  It was the deadly and unforgiving existense of the vampire hunter.  Here, if the vampires caught you spying on them, they didn't initiate you into their ranks.  They killed you.

"Uh oh," the server said quietly.  Down in the dining hall, the guests had run out of punch.  They were now looking up at our window contemplatively.

I grabbed Cris' hand and dragged her toward the door.  There was a sound of growling and breaking glass behind us as we ran out into the hall.  I slammed the door and bolted the door, but not before catching a glimpse of snarling canine jaws and black fur.  The sound of claws scratching wood came from the other side of the door.

Cris glared at me accusingly as we leaned against the door.  "In any of your books," I shouted over the barking and howling.  "Has anyone become a vampire after being torn apart by vampire wolves?"

She thought for a moment before shaking her head.  "No."

"Okay then."  We ran.

After a minute or so, Cris stopped me.  She was having trouble running in her dress.  I pulled out my knife, prepared to slit it with a callous, hero-style disregard for its value.  Cris spared me a contemptuous glare before reaching down and revealing a concealed zipper.  It ran from the hem almost up to her hip, allowing for both fashion and freedom of movement.  I sheathed my blade and we continued on.

It became jumbled after that, as I was starting to wake up.  We got stuck in, and escaped from, an elevator.  Eventually we managed to escape the mansion in a coach.

I've had conversations with vampire fans before, and what would happen if they found a vampire in their room.  It seems to me that the natural reaction would be to fear for my life, but apparently their first reaction is excitement at the possibility that he might turn them into a vampire too.  The part that struck me most was the thought, You aren't in her dream!  She's in yours!  Maybe I should call Cris and ask if she had any weird dreams last night.