seymoure

Chapter 18
“The Dream”

This was an abnormally short time of sleep for dreaming. Normally Ethel had to sleep a good five or six hours before getting to the depth that opened the door to dreaming. But, perhaps, there was something else going on.

This was a point of view dream, so she didn’t see herself, rather seeing everything through her own eyes.

It started as every one of her dreams began, she was kissing Steve McQueen. This time the star got out of the love seat and walked over to the motorcycle that was sitting in Muntz’s
mother’s home. With antiques all around, McQueen revved up the engine and then crashed through the wall.

“Don’t worry,” came the most beautiful male voice on the planet, “He’ll be back.”

She turned to see George Takai smile at her. “He loves you,” said the actor, “And I love you. You are the only woman on the planet that I love.”

She felt the blood rush to her cheeks.

At this moment there was a thunderous crash from above them. The roof exploded and a gigantic vampire bat flew in and roughly grabbed her around the shoulders and flew her out of the house.

Outside was black and foreboding, looking nothing like her mother’s neighborhood.

The bat flew at a speed that made the ground below rush past and made the wind around them like a cyclone.

With no transition at all she was in a castle, and at the end of the huge room was what appeared to be a throne. A man sat on that throne, but he said nothing.

From a distance he looked like Lon Chaney in “The Phantom of the Opera.” He slowly, regally lift a hand and motioned for her to draw near.

She noticed that she was barefoot, and the stones below her feet were cold and damp.

She walked past a torch that was hanging from the wall, it was only then that she saw that the stones below her feet were blood red. They seemed to be tacky, and she didn’t want to think that they were soaked with blood. But she did think it.

As she drew near the seated man he looked less grotesque. His smile narrowed to a human smile. His eyes were not bulbous and eerie, but now were deep blue and just a bit sexy.

His hair was black and wavy, just long enough to cover his ears and touch his massive, well developed shoulders. He held out an immaculately manicured hand to her.

She was now close enough to hear his breath. Somewhere behind him, she heard a movie projector whirring. She could smell the unmistakable scent of stage make up.

She stood before him and he smiled the kind of smile found routinely in romance novels.

She heard a switch flipped somewhere in the room, and then a row of lights went on somewhere to her left.

When she turned to look at the lights, she saw Claus and his group hanging from chains that reached up out of sight above.

They might or might not have been alive.

But, that wasn’t all. Behind them were, in single file, hundreds of others.

In the distance someone groaned in pain.

She turned back to the man in the throne.

“My name,” He announced calmly, “Is Damien Kane.”

He stood and took her hand, he then kissed the back of her hand.

She shivered in response for too many different reasons to name.

As she pulled her hand back, she looked at that hand and saw it covered with blood.

“What do you want?” Her voice quivered as she spoke.

“Want, I don’t have to want . . .” Said the creature as he sat back into his chair, “I have everything. I always have everything. I am power, I am strength.”

See looked back down the corridor at the seemingly endless row of bodies.

“And,” He brought her back, “Have no doubt about this. . .”

He stood again, as chains appeared around her hands and began to draw her upwards.

“I have you.”