Author's notes: This chapter is an especial tribute to the readers who have played the videogame; just because I think first hand experiences like the ones the main character in Bloodlines has to leave one a good share of nightmares. If you guys like it, let me know and I'll be sure to put more nightmare chapters later on -maybe I'll do so anyways, this is my fic, after all ;-D

Lissa: Thanks for the review, I really appreciate them. You are right: the caretaker's actual name is Filch. I'll make sure not to repeat the errors you mentioned again, thanks!

Disclaimer: (Touches huge bump on his forehead) Errr... I think it'll be best for my health not to say anything... Can we just pretend I've already disclaimed what had to be disclaimed, please? (Tries to get up to get an aspirin, but slips up and ends with his butt on the floor) Ouch! What'd I do this time?

Kindred usually don't go to bed before making sure the area is safe and they aren't too thirsty. There's a reason to that: when a vampire is asleep, its internal defenses drop down and the beast may take over unless its instincts are satiated.

That is why I had told Slughorn I was thirsty and why I had locked the door to my office: now I was asleep, locked in a room too far away from any live being for the beast to catch any scent. For sure, the beast was now presumably controlling my body, but my previous actions were currently controlling what it did: without any threat to neutralize or any prey to hunt, the beast could only let me sleep.

And I did sleep, even if my sleep wasn't as dreamless as I'd like it to be: I was in a cab, paying the driver for the ride I had taken. I got out and, as soon as the taxi disappeared into the city's night, something hard impacted on the base of my skull, sending me flying three feet forward. Darkness.

I remembered fair well this event: it happened five years ago, not even a week after my embrace. I opened my eyes to see I was lying on the ground surrounded by three kindred, Sabbat, who were currently discussing what'd be the most painful fate they could place upon me: one suggested to stake me to the ground and leave me for the sunrise while another prompted to take my ears, tongue and teeth. I struggled to get up, in vain, and I decided to try and recall how did this event finish: Nines Rodriguez would show with a 45 and a grenade and scare the hell out of those losers...

The leader decided to drain me (although the Camarilla and the Anarchs find diablerie disgusting and revolting, the Sabbat do not share their point of view). Why wasn't Nines showing up? The leader had already grabbed me by the head and shoulder... He should have shoot the guy's head about thirty seconds ago... I realized number eight plus one wouldn't be showing his grenade tonight when I started blacking out as two sharp fangs pierced my neck's skin and flesh, entering into my jugular and stealing my precious blood: diablerie. Pain. Darkness.

I was now crouching, stealthily passing by a distracted police officer. The metallic walls around me were tainted with blood... Creepy. I went to my right, then up some ladders and left; to the ship's security room. I was aboard the Elisabeth Dane, following Prince Lacroix's order to find out what happened there. I introduced the password 'lighthouse' on the security server and accessed the deck's camera.

There it was: the Ankharan Sarcophagus. I knew it'd be closed, with blood everywhere, clean signs it had been opened from the inside all around, surrounded by the local authorities'... Corpses? What the..! The sarcophagus was open? With bloody footsteps directed towards the cabin... Someone, or something, hissed behind me. Oh, boy, this wasn't supposed to happen.

I turned just in time to see a walking, skeletal Antediluvian; provably the most powerful kindred alive and one of the first ever existed. Oh, man, he was supposed to be a myth, or to have suffered Final Death long ago... He disappeared from my sight and I could now hear him hissing behind me... This was bad... I felt something sharp stabbing through my spine and glanced down, only to see the Antediluvian's hand poking through my chest, holding my heart. My eyes widened in horror as I felt weaker than ever. A razor sharp claw tore my throat apart, causing my neck to become like a blood fountain. PAIN, in capital letters. Darkness.

I opened my eyes only to find myself on some sort of balcony, tied to the floor. What the? I had not a single memory about being tied on a balcony... Was I still dreaming? Or was it real? A man appeared in my field of view.

He was tall, thin, on his late fifties, wearing a brown coat and a crucifix around his neck. The scar on his right cheek I had inflicted him myself five years ago and his particular Russian accent left no room for mistakes: Bach! Grunfeld Bach... The vampire hunter smirked and, after telling me I was going to be cleansed, he sat down on a nearby chair. What the? I thought I had killed him on the Society of Leopold's underground tunnels! He sat on a nearby chair to watch this 'glorious moment'... My Final Death?

I struggled against my bonds only to find my efforts useless. Everything started to become brighter... The sunrise! I frenzied from fear and panic. The beast, along with even my conscious will, tried to break free, screaming and calling upon every thaumaturgy I could think about... But there was no blood to use.

I screamed as the first sun beams appeared from the horizon. I screamed as they touched my skin, scorching it without needing fire. I screamed as the sun filtered through my burnt skin and flesh into my bones. My throat was so sore I couldn't scream anymore as this process went from my feet upwards. I could feel the pain it all caused as the sun advanced to my chest.

Kindred who wish to end their unlifes usually walk into noon's sun and find a swift and almost painless Final Death, but the slow death caused by a sunrise is completely and horribly different, I found out. The sun reached my face almost an hour later, when I was ashes from knee-down. I didn't have any memory like this: was the pain real? Or just another nightmare? Was it... The end? Pain. I promised myself that, if it was just a nightmare, I'd never experience this for real: I'd suicide first. More pain. No... This couldn't be a simple nightmare: it was just too real, even for the nightmares I usually had. Higher levels of pain. Bach... Darkness.

So, what do you think? Is it just an innocent nightmare? Or maybe not? Will Robert Kellehan ever wake up? Should I change the chapter's title for 'The End'? Or maybe I'll just continue from another POV?

Mmm... Haven't decided yet... (Remembers the two reviews) Ok, ok, this fic DOESN'T end on this chapter; but I truly haven't decided how to continue it: you see... I'm trying to write without sticking to a previously made script (it killed my fun writing 'Knights of Redemption') and I'm also trying to open as many questions as possible before starting giving the answers; so I truly don't have the slightest idea about how will it all end...

Bah, what we all really want is the next chapter to come A.S.A.P., soooo... Starting writing chapter seven in 3... 2... 1...