won't forget, Seeker."
I watched him disappear into the mass of people as well. Realizing I needed to vacate before Jared decided to return, I pulled several bills from my pocket and dropped them on the bar next to my empties. It was time to go home for the night.
I really needed to stop coming to bars. Bad things always seem to happen. Chapter Claws and fangs ripped at me. The darkness seemed to swirl and fold in on me again and again. I
tried to fight it; I tried to get away. Swinging wildly, I only heard their laughter. I wanted
desperately to go home. I wanted to see my husband and daughter. They were all I could think of
as I fought. I had to get free of this place. I ran, screaming at the top of my lungs. Why could no
one hear me? Why would no one help me? I knew this place. I had seen it before. My mind started
to whirl as the darkness swarmed again. I felt a pair of arms clamp over my chest and razor-sharp
fangs sink into my neck again.
I sat straight up and realized I was alone in my bed. Nothing had changed. It was just a bad dream. Leaning forward, I placed my head in my hands. It struck me as slightly amusing that I, a Vampire, had a nightmare. I was supposed to be the stuffof nightmares, not having them. I let the thought fade as I turned and dropped my legs over the edge of the bed. Lifting my arms above my head, I arched my back and stretched like a cat after a long and restless sleep. Collapsing onto myself with a yawn—some things never change, alive or dead—I lifted the heavy curtains on my window and stared into the darkness. The lights of Glitter Gulch were sparkling brightly in the crisp night air, truly a sight to behold. It was true what they said: there really was no place on Earth like Las Vegas.
My mind wandered back to the dream. I hadn't thought about that place, that night in a long, long time. I felt wrong and I couldn't exactly explain why. I was just off slightly. My mind was somewhere else, somewhere dark.
Snatching my worn wool robe from the back of my closet door, I pulled it over my naked body and enjoyed the warm comfort it offered. The dark blue fabric robe was starting to fray badly after years of use, but it didn't bother me. I really liked it. After putting my hair up in a messy ponytail with a scrunchy I found on my dresser, I sauntered through the living room toward the kitchen. Still a bit groggy, I pulled open the fridge possibly expecting a miracle or hoping the grocery fairy had visited me during the day. Still empty. Good thing I couldn't starve to death. I would have to visit Brimstone tonight whether I wanted to or not. I had to get more blood. Pushing the door closed, I spun and stared at the mess on my kitchen counter. There was a coffee pot here ... somewhere. Turning slightly, I spotted Mr. Coffee's smooth, white top partially buried by a stack of unopened mail. Brushing the envelopes promising I might already be a winner, and the postcards claiming I could lower my home mortgage rate onto the floor, I pulled the glass pot from the base and walked to the sink. Popping the top and cranking open the tap, I wondered if the bulk mail companies ever did any research before they sent out their offers. First, I didn't have a house or a mortgage to refinance, and secondly, I was dead. That pretty much excluded me from any of their offers.
I watched him disappear into the mass of people as well. Realizing I needed to vacate before Jared decided to return, I pulled several bills from my pocket and dropped them on the bar next to my empties. It was time to go home for the night.
I really needed to stop coming to bars. Bad things always seem to happen. Chapter Claws and fangs ripped at me. The darkness seemed to swirl and fold in on me again and again. I
tried to fight it; I tried to get away. Swinging wildly, I only heard their laughter. I wanted
desperately to go home. I wanted to see my husband and daughter. They were all I could think of
as I fought. I had to get free of this place. I ran, screaming at the top of my lungs. Why could no
one hear me? Why would no one help me? I knew this place. I had seen it before. My mind started
to whirl as the darkness swarmed again. I felt a pair of arms clamp over my chest and razor-sharp
fangs sink into my neck again.
I sat straight up and realized I was alone in my bed. Nothing had changed. It was just a bad dream. Leaning forward, I placed my head in my hands. It struck me as slightly amusing that I, a Vampire, had a nightmare. I was supposed to be the stuffof nightmares, not having them. I let the thought fade as I turned and dropped my legs over the edge of the bed. Lifting my arms above my head, I arched my back and stretched like a cat after a long and restless sleep. Collapsing onto myself with a yawn—some things never change, alive or dead—I lifted the heavy curtains on my window and stared into the darkness. The lights of Glitter Gulch were sparkling brightly in the crisp night air, truly a sight to behold. It was true what they said: there really was no place on Earth like Las Vegas.
My mind wandered back to the dream. I hadn't thought about that place, that night in a long, long time. I felt wrong and I couldn't exactly explain why. I was just off slightly. My mind was somewhere else, somewhere dark.
Snatching my worn wool robe from the back of my closet door, I pulled it over my naked body and enjoyed the warm comfort it offered. The dark blue fabric robe was starting to fray badly after years of use, but it didn't bother me. I really liked it. After putting my hair up in a messy ponytail with a scrunchy I found on my dresser, I sauntered through the living room toward the kitchen. Still a bit groggy, I pulled open the fridge possibly expecting a miracle or hoping the grocery fairy had visited me during the day. Still empty. Good thing I couldn't starve to death. I would have to visit Brimstone tonight whether I wanted to or not. I had to get more blood. Pushing the door closed, I spun and stared at the mess on my kitchen counter. There was a coffee pot here ... somewhere. Turning slightly, I spotted Mr. Coffee's smooth, white top partially buried by a stack of unopened mail. Brushing the envelopes promising I might already be a winner, and the postcards claiming I could lower my home mortgage rate onto the floor, I pulled the glass pot from the base and walked to the sink. Popping the top and cranking open the tap, I wondered if the bulk mail companies ever did any research before they sent out their offers. First, I didn't have a house or a mortgage to refinance, and secondly, I was dead. That pretty much excluded me from any of their offers.