Dream 33: Royal Vampiress 2

This dream was similar to the one I had the other night.

I was a royal vampires again. Torches lit the halls in the castle. Victorian-era. I was wearing a deep blood red velvet dress and the ruby necklace again. Hair done up. It's midnight. I find a man with a young girl I know I'm protecting for some reason but can't recognize her. He is going to rape her in a cage in the dungeon. I use the skeleton key in my pocket to open the dungeon door and get inside. I open the cage and yell at the man bearing my fangs. I pull the girl away and let her escape. The man just cowers and begs as I yell at him. I left the cage with the man inside and lock it up. I leave him there for a day or two to punish him. He cries out for me to let him g, and I refuse. I walk away leaving the dungeon. Then I woke up.

Dream 32: Royal Vampiress

I was in another time. It was almost 500 years or so ago. Victorian-era, I guess. I was dressed in royal clothing. I had a ruby necklace around my neck. My hair was done up. It was midnight, and there was a masquerade party going on in a basement-like area of the castle. It was done there so no light would come in no matter what. I noticed that everyone there, including me, was a vampire. I had fangs, as did everyone else. Everyone was royalty. Even the help. I was in love with a man who loved me in return. The castle we were in was stone and old. Red velvet fabric everywhere. Curtains and all. All I could think of was the man that I loved. Where was he? I was searching for him all over and still no sign. I walk by some men who were drunk and fooling around. One man pushed the other into a pool of water on the floor. The men just laughed. I finally found my love. We kissed and licked each others' fangs. I could feel the heat in my veins. It was like liquid fire. Passion and lust burning through me. We were heading to the bedroom. Once we arrived to the bedroom, we opened the door, and I woke up.

Dream 31: Not So Reel

It looks like an old time movie. A film reel rolling. You see the dust and dirt on the images as it plays. It's not black and white. It's sepia colored. Like a western movie. It's no western movie.

It's of a girl in a white nightgown. She's bound to a chair with white fabric. About 18 years old and petite. She looks around. She can't tell where she is but she knows there's someone there. Someone watching. The room is dark all except for the tiny light from the half-painted window. All I see is her face, and she's afraid. Tears forming in her eyes. She knows she probably won't survive.

She hears the sound of a saw running outside. Something moves in the dark corner of the room. She feels herself being pushed off the edge. The white fabric snags on the ledge as she falls. She's just hanging there. Praying for someone to save her. The floor below her disappears and that's when she hears him behind her up on the ledge. He just smiles as he rips the cloth, freeing her, and watching as she falls to her death screaming.

Dream 30: The Artist

He welcomed us into his world. He wanted to show us his works of art. It was a storage facility in the middle of nowhere. He opened the door and the room was dark. We walked in as he shut the door. He finally flipped a switch lighting up each of the glass displays. They were big enough to be bedrooms.

In each display was a person. Not just any normal person. They were people who he experimented on. One woman I remember particularly. She was naked. She had beautiful long brown hair but the right side of her face was sewn to her right shoulder. The inside part of her arms were sewn to her sides. Her left leg was bent at the knee and crossed behind her right leg at the back of her other knee where it was sewn together.

The man just looked at the people in awe. He was so happy. He walked along the room in front of each display admiring each "piece of art".

I wanted to cry just seeing all of these people like this. The woman who came with me spoke up.

She said, "How could you do this to these people? What makes you think that this is art? This is torture! You're a fucking psycho!"

He just turned and looked at her. All I saw was the knife he had in his hand. With one quick slice of that knife he cut across her entire stomach. Everything just started falling out of her. She started to fall back, and I caught her. I held her as she took her last breath.

He looked at me, and I was scared. I thought I was next. He then leaned over the woman in my lap. He was admiring her wondering how he could use her in his next piece.