After school and work that following day, Clara went right back to her apartment and to sleep as soon as she could. Attacks often left her tired, especially one as sudden and intense as her last one. Hallucinating, she supposed, might also be making her tired. Going completely and utterly insane may too be contributing. None of it made any sense. Nothing mad any sense so Clara decided she needed to ignore it else she really go crazy. And maybe she was getting sick. Maybe she just needed some sleep. Julie seemed very concerned for Clara's wellbeing when she came home from work and went right to her room.
"Are you all right?" Julie asked. She'd walked into Clara's bedroom without permission. That seemed to be a habit of hers. Again, without permission, she'd come and sat next to Clara on the bed.
"I'm fine." Clara's voice was muffled by the pillow so it sounded more like: 'M fah.'
Julie sighed, "I'm sorry about last night."
"It's not your fault," Clara yawned. She shut her eyes and hoped Julie would get the memo. She did not.
"Well, I'm sorry regardless. And I'm sorry about Christopher. That was weird."
"It was fine," Clara said just to calm Julie down. "I probably couldn't have walked upstairs anyway, but you know how stubborn I am." She sighed, "It's good that he was there."
Maybe it was, but she couldn't escape that feeling she got whenever he was near. A warning almost. Something in her told her he was dangerous. Then why was she so drawn to him? Why did another part of her tell her that he was her friend? A very good friend. It was like she was in love with him and terrified of him all at once. Which made no sense.
"I'm really tired, Jules."
Julie jumped up, "Yeah, of course. Sorry."
"No problem."
"G-night, Clara."
"Good night, Julie."
OOO
Clara was dreaming.
She was pretty certain she was dreaming. If this were real life, she would not be so fearless. Clara was not one to sit up and go investigate a noise in the middle of the night. The slamming door was one thing. That was not a sinister sound for Clara knew why the door had slammed. This noise, however, was something Clara would usually ignore and try to sleep over. The sound was someone rapping at the window. Knocking at it so lightly that it could've easily been rain or leaves or any number of things. It was not something Clara would've woke up to check upon, so this had to be a dream.
For Clara did get up to check upon the noise.
Her room had a balcony. It was not an accessible one, so she did not know how anyone was knocking upon it. Yet she felt no fear as she went to open it. Where, if this were not a dream, she certainly wouldn't have opened the balcony door in the middle of the night. Not in the fall, especially. The nights could get so very cold.
Clara opened the door and standing there was him. She could not remember his name, but this was someone she'd met many times before. This was someone she'd dreamt about ever since she was a child. This was him. This man she knew and did not know. This man that terrified her and excited her all at once. She did love him so much, this man. She just couldn't remember his name. His name didn't matter. She loved him.
"May I come in?" He spoke in that low voice she'd heard in her head all her life. Dream Clara spoke an invitation and the man came inside with one step. What was she wearing? She felt like she were naked; it was so cold outside. The door shut behind him as he came nearer to her. He did not even turn around to close it.
They were standing very close and Clara felt very small next to him. He was so very tall. Tall, strong, ad very powerful was this man and she liked being so near to him. Clara was certain she had not stood this close to anyone before. Clara did not like standing too close to people; it usually made her uncomfortable. This man did not. Standing close to him did not feel strange. It felt a bit terrifying, but it did not feel strange. She looked up at him and saw that his eyes were red. That too was terrifying, but it did not scare her. He reached his hand and brushed her face as softly as if it were his own skin. Then his lips locked against hers but that didn't scare her either. Clara had not been kissed before, but she had kissed this man many times.
They kissed for such a long time but Clara did not grow tired of it. She wanted to keep kissing him forever. It had been such a long time since they had kissed. This was a dream anyways, so it did not matter. They could kiss the whole dream away for all that she cared. She liked having her arms around him. She knew him very well.
"I love you," the dream man said to her in between kisses. "I have missed you."
"Missed me?" Clara asked dreamily. Her fingers played with his hair. To be a dream he felt so very real.
"Terribly," the dream man breathed into her ear.
She wished he'd kiss her again, but they began moving. Moving closer to her bed, she noted. Soon she was sat upon it and he knelt in front of her. Clara put her hands back in his long, dark hair. She wished she could remember his name. His name felt very important. His red eyes studied her strangely as she sat upon her bed. The strap of her nightdress fell; she felt it on her shoulder. If it fell further she would be exposed. Yet that thought didn't worry her as much as she felt it should. He just kept staring at her so intently. What was he thinking?
"God, I want to—" The dream man sat up on his knees like he was going to kiss her again. It was almost like he was going to push her back on her bed and kiss her. Clara would not have been averse to that. His hands sat now on her thighs and that didn't scare her either. His red eyes were nearly level with her own now.
"I'm in Hell wanting you." His voice was so low that it made her tired again. It would be very nice to rest in his arms, she thought. His hands moved to her waist, then her breasts for just a moment. She thought he was going to move them, but his fingers began brushing her small breasts softly as she sat there. It did not make her uncomfortable, for this had happened before, she was sure. Happened before and she had been so happy about it. When was that? She could not remember.
Clara liked him touching her. His touch was soft and gentle and he didn't seem to care that she had such small breasts. Clara felt her sex growing heavy and warm and should've been more alarmed by that but was not. He came and kissed her again and Clara needed him. She had been with this dream man before, she knew it. He had loved her some very long time ago. She could not remember when.
His hand moved between her legs in this dream and slid beneath her underwear. It did not frighten her for him to touch her, for he had touched her before. He touched her softy there, like he thought he might hurt her. He could not hurt her. He was her own. He was her own soul. Clara pressed her lips against his and her sex against his hand. She did not want him to stop. He needed to never stop. They kissed as he touched her as he'd touched her before on that day she could not remember. She loved him so much. Her Vladimir. Her Dracula.
Yes. Yes, that was his name. The name sent shivers all over her skin and a sudden prick of fear in the back of her neck. Dracula was an enemy. Dracula was not a friend: they had warned her. He was not to be trusted. She should not be kissing him. His hands should not be upon her. Clara knew all of this and yet could not allow it to stop. She did not want it to stop.
He pleasured her until she climaxed and he slowly removed his fingers from her. She felt strangely robbed of their space when he took them away. He could not just leave now, though Clara knew he intended to go.
"Please stay," Clara whispered in his air as her fingers scratched at the hairs on his neck.
He kissed her, "You'll see me again tomorrow."
"Stay with me," she pleaded. It felt desperate, but she did not care. "Make me yours again: I want you. I've missed you."
"My angel," he breathed as he traced her outline with his hand. He kissed her lips strongly and she wondered if he might heed her request. "We'll be together again soon."
"I love you," Clara replied, but the dream had already ended.
OOO
Clara woke in the morning to light coming in through the curtains. She remembered the dream clearly, but could not remember the name or the face of the man in it. It had been a nice dream and the feelings had felt real. Clara had had dreams like that on occasion. It usually meant she hadn't pleasured herself in a while. Perhaps that was something she needed to do today.
Saturday. Clara already had far too many things to for a Saturday. She needed to clean, for one things. Run errands as well. Boring things to do, truth be told, but things that needed to be done. Clara awoke too early for Julie to even dream of being awake and started on her errands. It was nice to occupy her mind for a while. The tedious chores kept her mind free of all the strange demons that had been chewing at it.
She called her father and talked to him for a while. Clara's mother had passed away long ago, but the loss was still a sting she felt from time to time. Her father and she were rather close, but her father was one she did not see often. They were both too bust for frequent visits, but Clara didn't mind it. He was always just a call away should she need his voice. She had needed his voice then. The panic attack was not something she spoke of. Nor were the hallucinations. He would just worry, she was certain.
During the call, Clara's phone had dinged quite a bit. The group message of her friends was rife with texts. There was some party tonight, apparently, and they had all elected to go.
Julie was awake when Clara came back from the grocery store.
"Come to the party tonight," Julie instructed before Clara even set down her bags.
Clara huffed, "I've got papers due Monday, Julie. So do you."
"Oh, shut up," Julie groaned. "I know you're not even going to do homework. You're going to watch Netflix or YouTube or read a book and then go to bed before midnight. You won't even touch your homework until tomorrow, so come out with us!" Clara stared at her blankly as she began unloading the groceries. Julie bit her lip like a child.
"Ugh, fine," Clara relented and her friend cheered quietly. Why not? She did not like parties, but why not go? It might make her feel less crazy to go. It might make her think less about the hallucinations and the visions and whatever the Hell else was going on.
Julie beamed, "It'll be so fun, Clar. We'll get ready together. Katie and Samantha are going to meet us here and then we'll head over."
"M'kay," Clara said as she began to put groceries away. A party. Yes, a party could help. A party should help. Anything to help would be greatly appreciated.
As Julie prattled, Clara found herself glancing to her friend's neck and finding nothing there. Julie had not mentioned it, Clara knew. Julie had not seen or felt anything, so Clara had to have imagined it. She'd been watching too many scary movies. She'd been reading too many weird books. There had been nothing outside with Julie.
Christopher had not called Clara a pet name. He had not kissed her forehead.
Nothing at all strange had happened.
And nothing at all strange would happen.
OOO
The universe, it seemed, blatantly refused Clara's wish for nothing strange to happen. Strange things began happening before Clara even left the apartment. Julie was very insistent on dressing Clara up like a Barbie doll and Clara let her do so because it made her happy and Julie had seemed a little stressed of late. Maybe it was because of the monster in the parking lot, but it was probably because she and her sister had been fighting again. They didn't really talk about it, but Clara knew. Julie hardly discussed her problems, even with Clara.
But Clara could not deny that Julie was acting a bit strangely. Julie was drifting off into her own mind far more frequently than she ever did. Clara was the introverted one, not Julie. Julie fed off of energy and life and people; it was peculiar that she had gone quiet in the last few days. Clara's mind went back to the monster in the parking lot that could not be real. It cannot be real.
At the end of Clara's make up session, she looked more or less the same. Which she liked. Her lips were red though, that stood out. Her blonde hair was curled and half up in a way that looked more romantic than Clara had anticipated. She sort of expected some crazy party girl music video look, but found this one suit her more. As she looked at her reflection, Clara couldn't help but think she looked like someone she knew. She could not remember who though.
"What do you wanna wear?" Julie asked as Clara studied her reflection in the mirror.
Clara shrugged, "What are you wearing?"
"Shirt, crop top, boots." Julie held up the items as she listed them. "I know you don't like crop tops. We'll find you something."
The 'something' they found turned out to be a white lace long sleeve shirt and some black shorts of Julie's because apparently Clara's were too long. It was a nice outfit. It showed enough skin but didn't make her uncomfortable. Again, Clara thought she looked like someone but didn't know who.
The party itself was not all that riveting. A house party, so everything was close and cramped which Clara was not a fan of. At least there were friends to talk to and that made it all bearable. Clara couldn't even remember what they were talking about. She had a few drinks; not enough to be drunk, but enough to no longer be sober. No one was weird or creepy like they were in movies, but Clara supposed that would happen at a party larger than this one. Besides, Clara made no real efforts to talk to anyone she did not know all too well.
About two hours in Clara regretted having gone. The party had grown a bit dull. Clara was not as drunk as those around her. Everyone soon became interested in either making out which each other or flirting with each other and Clara wanted nothing to do with either of those things. That loneliness she had told Christopher about flooded her system all so suddenly. Christopher. God, she didn't want to fucking think about him. What was his problem, making her feel so goddamned stupid? He made her so weak, so girlish. A crush. Clara never had crushes. How dare he be so attractive and scholarly and handsome and gentlemanly and…
"Jules: how late are we saying?" Clara asked her friend when she found her alone in the kitchen. Julie made a sound between a sigh and a cough and Clara knew her friend was drunk. Very drunk. What the fuck? Julie was driving. Julie was driving and said that she wouldn't drink that much. Julie wouldn't be sober so several hours if she was as drunk as she seemed.
Clara loved her friend dearly, but Julie could really be a dumbass sometimes.
"You said you weren't drinking," Clara spoke coolly. She suddenly felt a lot more sober.
Julie laughed, "It's fine, Clar. We can stay the night!"
"Stay the night?" Clara said and instantly that flutter in her chest struck up again. No. No, goddamnit it, no! She was not going to have a panic attack here. What the fuck were these panic attacks? She hadn't had one in nearly a year and then two in one week? Clara told her hormones to mind their own damn business but knew it would not hold out for long. Stay the night. Clara would not stay the night with a stranger. It took Clara until she was fifteen to just stay the night with friends!
Clara shook her head, "No. No, Jules, you know I can't do that."
"Right," Julie hiccupped. "Sorry."
"It's fine," Clara said, even though it was not. Her mind was turning for some sort of a plan. Her friends were here, so she couldn't call them. Perhaps one of the others could take her home, or she could get a cab. But she needed to get home. Clara did not want to stay in this house that smelt like booze and sweat any longer: she wanted to go home. Clara treasured that time at night that was all her own. Those hours before she went to sleep were her own and not be shared by anyone else. A feeling like panic seized her: she needed to go home.
That was when the odd thing happened. Clara unlocked her phone and found it open to Christopher's contact. She did not remember opening that before. Perhaps she had drunk more than she meant to. Maybe she had meant to text him. God, had she texted him? Clara meant to look but found herself staring at his contact. Maybe he was awake. She thought he'd be awake. He was like her, she thought, a night bird. A quiet night bird like her as well. He was waiting for her to call him. Clara needed to call him.
Julie hiccupped again, "What?"
Clara breathed, "Nothing. I'm gonna get a ride home, okay? Be safe tonight."
"M'kay," Julie agreed as she left Clara alone in the kitchen.
That was when Clara did the stupid thing.
OOO
She stood in the front lawn of the house and looked so much like her old self that his heart seized in his chest. This had been an addition to the plan, he supposed, but it tugged at his chest like none other to see her looking so like she had before. Clara gave a small wave when she noticed his care, looking absolutely mortified that he was picking her up. Don't be frightened, he pleaded but knew she could not hear. She looked so terribly beautiful.
Christopher parked the car and stepped out, walking to the passenger side and opening her door for her. She blinked, obviously surprised by this, but said a quick thank you and ducked into her seat. Some strange pleasure came over him that she was alone with him again. Even if she did not know yet… Christopher shut off the thought as shut her door. Such thoughts would only make the feelings inside of him worse and they were already rising at an inordinate speed. He retook his spot at the driver's seat.
"Thank you," Clara said the moment he put the car into drive. "I know it's late and this is really nice of you. I'll give you money for gas. Or buy you some Starbucks or something."
"It's not a problem," he tried to speak as coolly as possible. She seemed on edge, which he understood. Clara was always so on edge around him. A side effect of everything, yet he wished she'd be more relaxed. Christopher needed her trust. Clara need not be frightened near him. As they drove, he wished to take her hand in his but knew such a thing would be bizarre to her. She did not remember. Clara stared out the window and she did not remember. After several minutes of silence, she finally spoke again.
"I'm sorry I called you." Her fingers fiddle with the lace sleeve of her shirt. "I should've just gotten an Uber or something." Her eyes darted to the dashboard. "It's one thirty in the morning. I'm so sorry. I-"
"It's really not a problem, Clara," Christopher replied with a light laugh. That seemed to soothe her, for she exhaled and leaned back against the seat. He wanted to turn and to look at her but knew such a thing might frighten. He should just focus on the road and forget that they were alone together. He should just forget everything. But, God, he could not forget anything. Every moment sent his skin on fire.
They were alone again. She had seemed so disgusted by him two nights ago. Clara must know. Deep down inside of her soul, she remembered what he was. His darkness she remembered at least. She remembered that monster she saw with Julie. The monster that lived inside of him and was now burning to come out again. Such terrible visions played in his mind as he drove upon the dark roads. Alone with Clara. He could have her. Have her tangibly and not just in her dreams. In her dreams she never was fearful of him. Ever since he came to her, he visited her every night in her dreams. She'd beg him to stay or to take her away. Every time it was harder to say no to her.
But if his plan worked, then perhaps he'd have more time with her. Time for her to remember, perhaps. Maybe then time for them to be together again. Even if she didn't remember, they could still be together. She was attracted to him, he knew, yet horrifically frightened of him as well. He could feel her heart pounding and it was pounding to drive him absolutely mad. Yes, yes maybe tonight she could be his again regardless. Short time with her and kisses in the night were no longer sating him, not when she was so near his grasp.
The monster was forming deep in his chest. A monster he had lived with for a thousand years. Take her, the voice hissed. He recalled his time with Mina from years ago. She had given him her blood, her bed, her body. All of her soul was his and all of his soul was hers. She saw the monster within him and at first she was frightened. Mina had been terrified of him until she gave into her passion. Tonight, again, such a thing might happen. She is yours. Do not waste time. Christopher did not intend to. If his plan fell into alignment, no time would be wasted.
"The party was kind of stupid," Clara spoke, thankfully saving him from his not so savory thoughts. "I mean, it was fine." She sighed, "I guess I just still don't like them very much."
"Some are better than others," he said plainly. He was going to ask if all of her friends were staying the night, but that sort of made it sound like he was aiming to murder her so he let the question float away. "Are you feeling all right?"
"I didn't have that much to drink," Clara answered immediately. "I just thought I shouldn't drive. Mostly that was because I almost had another attack. I'm fine. I've got medicine in my bag anyway." She paused and another panic seemed to seize her. Though they were on the highway now, he glanced over to she was all right and she seemed certainly not all right.
Christopher spoke, "Clara?" She made a noise that sounded like she were in deep pain. He wondered for a moment if she was.
"I left my bag in Julie's car." Clara's head fell back upon the headrest. "My keys are in there too. Damn it."
"We'll go back and get it," he immediately offered. Yet in his chest a new feeling of anticipation was swelling. It was working. The plan he'd set was working. Christopher had nearly believed the friend had not done her part in it, yet it seemed she'd played the role beautifully. If Clara said her lines right then everything would be perfect. Everything would be as he wanted.
Clara huffed, "I can call the landlady…she's out of town til Tuesday. Shit." He could hear her heart pounding to burst open her chest. "God, I hate to have you drive me back. We're already nearly there. But I can call Julie I guess… But she said her phone was dead. Fuck."
"You're welcome to a guest room in my suite."
There. He'd said it. His plan. His risky plan. Damn the risk. She is yours. Your love, your Mina, your soulmate. You should feel no qualms in wanting her.
He continued, "There's four of them and no one uses them. You're more than welcome to one if you think getting your keys back will be too much of a hassle." Clara didn't say a word. "If you're comfortable with that, of course."
"Um…" Clara stammered. Trust me, he tried to will his way into her mind. Such things worked better when the victim was asleep, but sometimes the cover of night helped as well. A close kinship helped too. Trust me, my darling. God, he wanted to touch her. To kiss her. To have her. The monster was rearing up in his chest again and he tried to curse it away. He knew it would not stay away for long at all.
"Sure," she agreed and the monster growled in triumph. "If that's okay?"
"Of course," Christopher agreed coolly. Alone with her. Finally alone with her.
Perhaps he could get her to remember.