I know I say it a lot, but bats alive, I appreciate you guys so much! I've had a lot of focus and attention problems lately (ADHD is fun) and just generally I am a basket case at best. So to everyone who sticks with me through this story, I love you dearly.

-YD-

Vlad had to fight not to hyperventilate. Had he actually dream-slain the Grand High Vampire and it somehow passed over to the real world?

"Dad, what's the Dream World?"

"Hm? Oh, yes. The Dream World is where vampires go when they sleep. Although not everybody seems to go there..." Vlad tried not to act too needy for information, but one of his fathers drifting tangents was not going to help him now. Thankfully, the Count got back on track "but every teenaged boy has a spell like yours, where the Dream World comes to them early. It is a vital part of our history, and it has been said through the ages that the Chosen One will be found that way."

Vlad frowned. Vampire history was weird.

"But... it's just that though right? Dreams?"

"Oh no! If you are slain in the Dream World, it's permanent."

His stomach twisted violently, and it was all Vlad could do not to vomit there and then.

"What about other vampires turning up there? I had dreams about... you! In the Dream World. What if I were to fight you there?"

"Why on earth would you fight me?!"

FIghting not to roll his eyes at his overdramatic father, Vlad shrugged.

"I don't. But just in case, what would happen?"

"Technically, they aren't in your Dream. So it should not matter. Now go and get some proper rest, I must read more about this slaying of the Grand High Vampire."

Vlad took the excuse, fled up the stairs to his room and closed the door as though it could keep out all the twisted the door. He wasn't going to be certain until he saw the article his father was reading, but that wasn't likely to happen before morning. Vlad went for a shower, hoping to ease the tightness in his chest with hot water and failing miserably. At least it got the smell of hospitals and the feel of clammy sweat off him, pyjamas a touch more comforting than clothes as Vlad crawled into bed, terrified to sleep again.

What if he hurt someone else?

Or was he just going mad, and it was entirely unrelated?

His dad had said though... the Dream World was looking for the Chosen One. And that was what his dream had been about. So did that mean he was? Or was it all just a vivid hallucination? He reached for the skin of his arm, pinched hard enough to leave a mark and still nothing happened. Well, his arm hurt, but that was to be expected. There were still pains in his wrist, multiple marks and aches from the slayers in his head.

Vlad tried and failed to fall asleep, too wired by the concerns twisting in his head and alleviated of the crushing exhaustion he'd started the day with. So he slid his feet into his slippers to protect against the castles chilled stone floor and gritty dirt scattered by Renfield, padding out and down the stairs with thoughts of a cup of tea. His father was nowhere to be seen, the newspaper left folded on his throne. Vlad grabbed it and headed to the kitchen, boiling water while he spread the paper out on the table.

His stomach sank with every line - no proof who did it, only an ash pile and the distinctive Crown of Power. Then lots of quotes of threats from the Vampire High Council, threatening vengeance before a small bit about the politics of choosing a new leader... though there were rules, rituals, a protocol to follow there. All things Vlad would eagerly be abstaining from, though as nobody had cause to suspect him (he hoped!) then Vlad ought to be able to stay absent all he liked.

Vlad hoped that prophecy was wrong about it all though. He didn't want to be cause for the 'bloodlines dropping like flies'...

"Vladdy! What are you doing up? At night! Finally feeling vampiric!"

His father turned up, a bloodied dead rabbit swinging from his hand and Vlad did his best not to look.

"No. Just getting some tea."

"Right, right. Well, if you change your mind, I'm happy to share!"

Stomach turning over, Vlad shook his head and poured the boiled water over a teabag, throwing sugar and milk in it as fast as he could before escaping his fathers messy midnight snack for the sanctuary of his bedroom again. His tea was a little weak for the rush, but Vlad wanted the warmth to soothe him, not the taste. He drank it slowly, staring at the window that exposed the night sky to him. It was a good view, little light pollution from sleepy Stokely to dull the stars.

He didn't have time for this... Chosen One nonsense, nor the slaying of the Grand High Vampire. He had Ingrid on and off his case, about to transform and the discovery of their blood relation still a heavy weight in the air whenever they were anywhere near each other.

"Ughhhh!"

Vlad groaned in frustration, glad he'd put the empty cup aside before he flopped back dramatically to his bed, staring up as though the canopy could hold answers.

"Master Vlad? Is everything alright?"

"Sorry for waking you Zoltan."

"Is no problem. Can I help with anything young master?"

He shook his head, reaching out to pet the taxidermied hell hound.

"No, but thanks. Go back to sleep."

Vlad tried to stay awake, terrified of what might happen if he succumbed to slumber again but no strange dreams happened during his fitful rest, and he woke with no new injuries and only the residual sense of dread he'd fallen asleep with. Had the Dream thing gone now it had told him what it needed to?

He'd been told not to go to school the next day by the hospital, but Vlad couldn't deal with spending all day in the castle. Outside under the sunshine, at least nothing vampiric could touch him as he walked. He wasn't tired anymore, so whatever it was that had been plaguing him yesterday, it seemed to have passed - no dreams, no exhaustion. Just the panic of possibly murdering the most powerful vampire in the world, and apparently being fated to replace him.

No big deal at all.

-YD-

I couldn't work out how to work Ingrid's part into this chapter, but she shall return next!