The man, his prey, was asleep at last. A time when a mind was most vulnerable, because the consciousness was inaccessible. There was nothing to prevent one who was once worshiped as a god of sleep from entering his mind, and working his will. It was a more complicated and insidious method of thrall, by which a vampire could hypnotize its prey. The more prolific form of thrall was where a vampire simply overpowered the human's mind with pure brute force. Any master vampire who wished to could do this in his sleep…but Morpheus's method took years of practice and a keen intellect. He not only forced the mind into submission, he could read the deepest thoughts, and bring hidden desires to the fore.
Wesley, called Morpheus into the depths of the man's subconscious. Wesley Wyndham-Price. The sleeping man acknowledged his presence, knew he was being spoken to. Call out, Wesley. Say 'Enter, Morpheus,' and I shall make your dark desires a reality.
The conscious mind stirred a moment in protest of said desires, then settled down again. Morpheus knew the dreams of men, knew that even now some part of this man wished revenge against those who had hurt him, scarred him. Morpheus knew that Wesley would never, if left to his own, act on those impulses. He was a man of thought, of introspection…but when the situation called for it, he could also be a man of action. That was a good sign.
The more Morpheus saw of the man's mind, the more convinced he became that Wesley could become great among his kind. He saw great hatred—self-hatred as well as hatred directed outward, towards parents, towards Lilah, and towards his ex-friends. Hatred could be provoked into rage, and into pure vampiric power. And even as he hated, it was a cold, bitter hate—even more dangerous than hot hate, for the cold could wait, bide its time until it was ready to strike, and destroy utterly.
Come Wesley, say the words. You want to.
The ex-Watcher stirred fitfully in his sleep. He was attempting resistance; he had a strong will, for a human, but that would not save him from being damned. Morpheus was no longer doing this for Wolfram & Hart's benefit, he was doing it for himself, and for the creature that Wesley could become. He could not let a prize such as this, a power such as this, fall into the hands of Lilah Morgan. He would be wasted there, when he had so much more he could be.
Let me in, Wesley Wyndham-Price. I will change your life. You will finally be able to unleash your hate, to find your revenge. Tell me now if you do not want to be free, and I shall leave. But say me enter, and I shall make your dreams come true.
By now, as Morpheus could see through the bedroom window, the man was covered in a cold sweat, the sheets tangled about his legs. His mind was chaos, as the consciousness had again stirred to war with the subconscious. But it could not prevail. In the end, it was always the subconscious that won out, as it would be again tonight.
Wesley mouthed two words, barely any sound to them. "Enter…Morpheus," he sighed. But it was enough. The vampire released his hold on Wesley's mind, and walked to the front door, opening it with a thought. Grinning, he walked into the house.
