The Dream

I didn’t know who I was.

My hair was no longer the waist-length brown I remembered, but short jet black. My eyes were big and violet, unlike the narrow onyx I knew. I was wearing a mini skirt and a V-necked shirt, which both did not belong to me, nor had I ever seen them.

Secondly, where was I?

The surroundings were foreign and alien to me. I was alone without any company besides me, including animals or insects. The sky was gray and gloomy. It was obviously night, but the silver moon was nowhere in sight.

Standing in front of an old wooden door, I pondered should I knock it or not. I raised my head, inspecting the Gothic castle which was standing proudly among the dead. It was enormous, and spooky. I could almost hear high-pitched screams of the dying, and imagine swarms of bats flying out from one of the tall pointed towers; even the tress seemed to be waving their leaf-less claws at me.

I wandered into the living room cautiously after I had discovered the door could be opened easily with a light push. I knew that I shouldn’t have entered without the owner’s permission, yet it was as if I was hypnotized, my legs moved regardless of my will to stand still. I tried to pull back, but I failed as my body continued to disobey my commands. I was controlled by something, or someone. Step by step, I journeyed further in the dark citadel.

As I carried on walking in the castle, I began to gain my control back slowly. By the time I had finally gained back full control, I had already reached the inner living room, though I didn’t run out of the place like I had expected myself to do. Instead, I was admiring the room. It was gorgeous, like it was from the seventeenth century, England—my favourite style: Tall ceilings with crystal lamps, silken curtains lapping over one another in front of largewindows, sculpture-like furniture covered by gold and silver cloths. Somehow, I suspected that this was not real, yet I didn’t want to wake up. This dream was too good to let go, I wouldn’t mind sleeping forever.

‘Greetings, milady.’

I stiffened immediately, shocked by the sudden presence. I didn’t feel his approach at all. Was it because I was too absent-minded, or was he really that stealthy?

Despite the man’s (who was also possibly the house’s owner) voice was husky and seductive, I was not affected by it. This kind of stuff never did. Perhaps it was due to my non-existent hormones. Who knew? Taking in a deep breath to calm myself, I turned around to face the mysterious man, preparing for tons of questions being thrown at me.

I was stunned by his appearance. Ample emotions coursed through me as I took in his profile: surprise, fascination, fear…The man before me was absolutely breath-taking.

He was as pale as, if not, paler than snow; shoulder-length hair was tied into a pony tail; his eyes were glowing vibrant red, like a dangerous predator; dark eyebrows adorned the rubies, adding a touch of firmness in his elusive features. He possessed an aura of a royalty—noble, dignified, yet he was also the definition of beautiful. His face was firm and sharp, at the same time, it was soft and elegant. He looked like he was a character from some teenage romance fiction, too perfect to be true. How could such a person exist was beyond me.

Apart from his heavenly looks, his clothes were nothing ordinary either. He wore a shirt of the purest white, antique tuxedo, and (oddly) a crimson cape, which covered most of his body, though it did not taint his divine form. However, my brain appeared to be incapable to appreciate the situation of meeting someone like him and ruined it by blurting out my first impression on him.

‘Are you Vlad Dracula?’

The man raised his one of his eyebrow in hilarity while his lips tugged into an amused smile. Embarrassed by my words, I flushed deep scarlet and fiddled my fingers, finding the floor was indeed as interesting as it was rumored to be.

‘No! What I mean was…er… that I…’ Unable to find an excuse, I sighed in frustration, hiding my face behind my hands. Idiot! I shouted inside my head. It was, in a way, the most humiliating thing ever happened to me. Honestly, Vlad Dracula? I hoped he wasn’t offended by my big mouth.

Delighted laughter rang in my ears. Feeling a bit light-hearted, I glanced at the man. Although he was trying to hold back, he had obviously enjoyed my…antics.

‘It’s all right, milady. You are not the first one to have mistaken me for the infamous character,’ he explained. Relief washed over me, knowing that he was not upset by my comments. ‘Let me introduce myself. My name is Andrew.’

Andrew? I liked the sound of his name. Andrew, Andrew…He stared at me, as if he was waiting for something. It was then I realized he was waiting for me to speak. ‘Oh! Um, good evening…’ I paused slightly. ‘Andrew,’ I pronounced the word with care, rolling it over my tongue slowly. That moment, I decided Andrew was the best name of earth. ‘My name is Amelia.’

‘What a wonderful name, suitable for someone as gorgeous as you. ‘He praised. ‘Well, Amelia, shall we?’ I blushed when he said my name, I never noticed it could sound so wondrous. Andrew extended his hand to me, inviting me to follow him. I hesitated. Gone was the adoring interest, replaced by the dubiousness that should have appeared long ago when I spoke to him. I didn’t know if I could trust him or not. As if he knew what I was thinking, Andrew’s eyes softened, and smiled encouragingly. Feeling better, I reached out and placed my hand on his, and almost withdrew my hand when I touched his ice cold ones.

I must have showed my shock, because he held my hand firmly. ‘This way, milady.’

Who was he, this Andrew…person? How could I go with a stranger who I’d never met before, and who was possibly a whacko too, considering his interesting outfit. Yet, I let him to lead me, bringing me to some unknown place. Strangely, I was content.

I followed his to a garden outside. The skies had cleared, showing it original color. Silver moonlight illuminated the garden, giving the rainbow-colored flowers a hint of celestial glow.

Andrew led me to a fountain, which consisted of a statue of a Greek woman holding a jug in her arms, streams of water poured out from it.

We sat by the masterpiece-like fountain. Andrew released my hand, placing his on my head, tilting it until I was leaning on him, resting my head of his shoulder. Dumbfounded by his actions, my heart sped up, pumping twice as fast. Blood surged through my veins with every beat, and concentrated on my cheeks.

‘An-Andrew…’ I stuttered, barely able to speak properly.

‘Hush now,’ he murmured in my ear. ‘Hush, my dear.’ He lowered his head, coating my neck with his breath.

We stayed in that position for a few minutes, none of us moved a single bit. I kept reminding myself to breath as I held it unconsciously when Andrew inhaled in me. Each breath was shallow and shaky, just enough for me to stay awake, but no enough for excessive use. I squeaked when I felt his soft lips on my neck. Holding my breath, I dared not to move, waiting for his next move. Petal lips gave way into nibbling teeth, biting tenderly of my flesh.

The pain on my cervix set off the alarm bells in my head, ridding all the complex emotions. Blank. Empty. Angry and mortification were the first things I felt after I recovered. I snapped.

My left hand flew to his face, as if it had a mind of its own, and slapped him. Hard.

Yes, I was thrilled that someone like Andrew would be interested in me; yes, I was flattered when he called me ‘milady’ and ‘my dear’, but when it came to nibbling…now, that, was disturbing. Did I look like a slut to him?

‘Pervert,’ I muttered, glaring at the culprit.

Andrew blinked; his face was still facing the right, eyes widened in disbelief, bewilderment colored his crimson orbs. ‘You slapped me,’ Andrew whispered, his voice was peaceful and flat—the same as his facial expression.

‘Y-yes,’ I replied quietly, like I was mumbling to myself, my voice scarcely audible. I was beginning to worry. It was not, correction, never a good thing if a guy does not show anger after being smacked, especially by someone he was trying to seduce; of course, unless he had a mild personality. To be frank, Andrew did not appear to be the case, in spite of his gentleman-like exterior.

I observed Andrew’s form as I was standing up. He was in deep thought, or deep shock. I couldn’t tell, but the later one was more likely.

‘She slapped me…’ the confused man carried on to repeat the words, like he was going mad, or already insane. It made me want to run away from him, to escape from the castle as the creepy atmosphere sank into me, sending a chill down my spine, fear struck my very core.

Just as I was about to flee, my hands were seized by Andrew, who had moved so fast that I did not know the when he had stood in front of me. I looked up. His eyes were blazing red, clouded with anger, annoyance, and…loathe? His delicate lips pulled back into a snarl, Andrew bared his pearly white fangs at me. At the sight of the ferocious sneer, I whimpered piteously.

A vampire…

‘You’ve defied my will again, mortal,’ Andrew tightened his grip on my wrists. ‘However, you won’t be escaping me.’

Frightened by the abrupt change of Andrew, I shook like a dying leaf in fall. ‘W-what are you talking about?’ I managed to choke out the words to him, trying to pry off his hands.

‘You’re the first prey that has been able to survive this long, but tonight, you will die.’ He rasped.

Despite I knew that it’d be impossible, I continued to struggle in his strong grasp. I refused to give up, refused to submit like this. Yet Andrew didn’t even budge, not the least, his strength was too overwhelming.

My captor chuckled at my fruitless attempt, he watched me thrashing about with glee, smirking. It was as if I was the terrified little mouse while he was the sly, cunning cat, playing with his prey until he finished me off.

He slammed me against a tree nearby. Clasping both of my hands above my head, Andrew closed the space between us, caressing my cheek with his free hand. I shivered uncontrollably as I felt the spongy, lithe muscle slid across the small wound he had made not too long ago. He chuckled at my feeble form.

‘Delicious,’ he purred. ‘Any last word, Amelia dear?’ Andrew stressed on my name, taunting me, but I knew better than to answer him. What good would it do? It wouldn’t make any difference. He was intended to drain my blood and leave me to die. End of story.

I now announced that Andrew was the worst name. Ever.

Seeing I made no movement or reply, the vampire put on his gentleman mask again. He lifted my chin with two fingers, forcing me to look at him.

‘Well, milady?’ his tone was no longer polite, but in mockery.

This time, however, I paid no attention to him as something else had caught my eyes. A shadow was lurking behind Andrew, creeping silently toward us. I thought about warning Andrew, but chose to stay quiet in the end. If he was attacked, then I would be saved. Therefore, I should be glad, right? A part of me disagreed. My gut feeling told me that the newcomer would be worse than this supernatural being. Nevertheless, I was willing to take a chance.

As I had expected, Andrew was no oblivious fool; he had noticed I wasn’t staring at him, but behind him. Andrew narrowed his eyes in suspicion; he was wide alert, anticipating for any ambush of sort. The intruder accidentally stepped on a branch, snapping it in half, notifying Andrew of the interloper’s uninvited arrival.

The vampire loosened his grasp on me, whirling around immediately, but the stranger was even quicker, flinging Andrew away from me. Before I could thank my savior, I was lifted up by the foreigner.

‘Tsk, tsk,’ a melodic voice teased Andrew. It was a male voice, unearthly like Andrew's, yet they were totally different. While Andrew's voice was dark and smooth, the outsider’s was light and even. ‘It seems that you’ve lost again, little Andy.’

Little Andy? I would have laughed out loud if wasn’t for this grave situation. So, he wasn’t an outsider after all. They knew each other, at least, he knew Andrew.

I looked up at my savior. His hair was golden; his eyes were bright emerald, and he was as perfect as Andrew was. Another vampire I presumed, but why would he save me?

‘Put her down, Trevor.’ The dark-hair male snarled, crouching down, ready to bounce and pounce on Trevor any time.

The said vampire smiled mischievously. ‘Aw…Is little Andy jealous?’

‘Bulls!’ Andrew barked, glaring at the blond.

‘Then you won’t mind if I take her with me, will you?’

There was no reply, because Trevor had already flown away. Wind filled my ears, blocking out any other sound. Cold air hit my face mercilessly, cutting my cheeks. Warm liquid dripped from the wounds, staining my shirt.

Slowly and without doubt, I felt myself slipping from Trevor's arms. I reached out to the flier, but it was too late. I fell. Trevor was turning into a mere small dot in the night sky. I glanced below me, and saw the ground was coming nearer to me with every passing second.

Nearer, and nearer.

I was about to collide with the cold earth…

I snapped open my eyes.

Panting, I put my hand on my chest in an attempt to sooth my overloaded heart. Sweat rolled down from my face, soaking my pajamas. I peeked at the windows; the sunlight had fully penetrated the thick clouds by now, spraying its golden light through my curtains. It was morning. Lying on my bed, I thought about my dream: the girl— Amelia, the castle, Andrew, Trevor, etc.

I sighed, exhausted by the exhilarating dream. The falling part was too much…

No more movies before bedtime.