The inspiration for this chapter goes to Carol (LadyLuck), where ever she may be since I haven't heard from her in ages. She had a dream that was like this and I liked it so much that I had to use it, and told her so! It's very elaborated on but the original idea came from her. Thanks Carol!
Detta lazily opened her eyes to a heavy blackness hovering over her. She turned her head towards the window and could hardly see outside. Without the moon and the stars, the distinction between the sky and the trees was gone. Everything was black. She smelled smoke. Cigarettes. Did she leave a cigarette burning? She tried to lift herself up but it felt as if she was weighted down. She was able to muster enough energy to prop her shoulders up against the wall so she was able to see more than just the ceiling.
In the corner of her room, she saw something burning, but not on the floor. It was feet above it, this burning tip of what Detta guessed was a cigarette where the smell was coming from. She became aware of the moonlight now filtering in through her room. It allowed the curls of smoke to be seen in the darkness. Only that and the burning end of a cigarette was what Detta could see. She was scared. She felt it but at the same time she felt useless, defenseless. Someone was in her house and she couldn't do anything about it. Had she been drugged? But when? It had been a few nights since the club and surely the drugs wouldn't have lasted that long.
She tried to lift herself up more but it was in vain. A last long drag was made on the cigarette before she saw it fly off to the side. And then nothing. No movement from the darkened corner but someone was still there. She could feel eyes on her. She heard a rustling movement and then a head lunged into view. It was David but the face wasn't his own. It was angular, severe, his eyes were a flaming orange yellow and his teeth, his teeth were fangs. And he was laughing.
Detta tried to scream but nothing came out. A hoarse scratching sound oozed from her throat but her voice was nowhere to be found. He emerged from the darkness, letting the moonlight wash over him. His laughing stopped as he stood, glaring down at her with a hungry look, the same look she saw deep within Marko's eyes but David's were sinister. Marko didn't look like he wanted to kill her, at least she thought.
David stepped towards her, his jacket moving slightly around his legs. Detta could feel her face contort in fear. She tried to scream again but she choked on her voice. Her body was paralyzed. Whatever little movement she had before was now gone as she watched David edge closer. She felt the bed sink as he placed a knee on it, climbing over her to rest his other leg on her opposite side, straddling her. Even if she were to regain her movement, she'd be powerless.
His hand, pale skin luminescent in the moonlight, reached for her throat, his nails clamping into her skin. Detta cried out in pain or would have if she could. He lifted her up by her throat and she could feel the blood dripping down her back. He grabbed her throat with his other hand, bringing the blood-soaked one to his mouth, licking his fingers clean.
Her arms were lead. She was prey for the vampire in front of her and any means of a fight that could have been in her body was absent. She tried to lift her hand, her eyes looking down at it, willing it up but it didn't move. David wiped the remaining blood on the side of her face. She shivered but didn't know if he could feel it or not. She barely did.
He sneered at her, shaking her to force her to look at him. "If Marko can't finish the job, I will."
Detta didn't know what that meant but before she could think, David snarled, bared his fangs and lunged for her neck.
She finally found her voice, her strength returning to her body. She screamed and flailed at the sheets around her, batting away the air. Tangled, she fell from the bed and groped for the light, flicking it on its highest power. There was no one in her room but her. She reached her hand up to her neck and felt nothing, no wounds, no blood. The spot tingled slightly but that was it. Her bed was a wreck, the sheets torn from the mattress and she was covered in sweat, cold chills running through her body. She walked into the bathroom and turned on the light, catching a look at herself in the mirror. Her hair was matted to her head and her tanned skin was now unusually gray. It looked like she had been frightened half to death, and she had. It was one of the most realistic dreams she'd ever had.
She walked back to her room and stripped the bed, the sheets too damp to sleep in. She curled herself up in a blanket like a frightened child, turning the lamp off so she could attempt sleep. As she lay in the now normal darkness of her room, that squealing noise haunted her once again. It carried in on the wind outside, permeated the walls. With it came a mirthful voice laughing at her, digging itself into her soul and nesting. Detta pulled the blankets up over her head before eventually falling into a restless sleep.
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