During the daytime, my father usually liked to lay down and rest his eyes. Especially when it was before a meeting with his fellow Wiccan vampires. I gained a little time to myself whenever he took one of his naps, so I wasn't entirely bored. I usually locked myself in my bedroom and read for about an hour or so. After having worked all morning, I was eager to take a quick nap myself.
I was glad that my father allotted me time to rest during the day whenever we did any heavy physical labor. I was lucky we did that much work. Otherwise I'd be fat with all the desserts we ate. I didn't have the freakishly high metabolism that my father was blessed with, so I had to work at it.
There was something about sleeping that I didn't like too much. I always had a recurring nightmare that scared the bejesus out of me. Whenever I closed my eyes at night, I was almost always viciously attacked by this one nightmare. And, of course, it came back that very afternoon to haunt me again.
I found myself in a gigantic room with a cool marble floor, high ceilings, and walls made of rough cement. The ceilings had to be about a good fifty to sixty feet high. Two naked, dim light bulbs were suspended from chains over twenty feet long. The chains were rusty, kind of like the one bound tightly around my ankle.
I sat up, my clothes wet from having lied upon the soaked floor. There were shower heads on the ceiling, spewing out water at me. Pipes ran across the ceiling. I felt like I was in a gas chamber of some sort.
Wrapping my arms tightly around my legs, I shivered, frightened out of my wits. Wearing only a white robe, I discovered that I had no other clothes on other than that. It was flimsy, reaching down only a few inches below my rear end. My long, chicken legs jutted out from the bottom of it. There was a tingling sensation in my toes; it felt as if they were about to fall off.
I pushed myself to my feet and discovered that there was blood where I sat. The bottom half of my sheer robe was drenched in it, giving me the impression that there was a cut somewhere on my body. My legs were wobbling so much that I nearly went toppling to the hard ground beneath me again. I grabbed onto a metal railing, pulling myself along the wall towards the dark and frightening area of the gigantic room. Luckily for me, there was plenty of slack on the chain, so I could move around at my will.
Blood dripped from the bottom of my robe as I stumbled to the darkness. Water was coming down harder upon my head, raining down in thick sheets. I swallowed the golf-ball sized lump in my throat. I tried my damnedest to get through the thick wall of water that was spurting from the ceiling like a waterfall. The water was getting deeper. And deeper. It was quickly rising to my trembling thighs!
"Oh...." I moaned, trying to keep myself from being washed away by the current that was beginning to form under the surface. I could feel the coldness of the water as it quickly rose to my shoulders. Had to stay above the surface. A strange smell of gasoline was filling the air. A scream ripped from my throat as I thrashed around in the rising water.
I awoke and found myself in my bed, gasping for breath. Pressing my hand against my chest, I breathed heavily. I could hear my father's footsteps in the corridor. In moments, my door was pushed open and my father's tall, lanky frame filled the doorway, my mother standing behind him.
"Rune? What's wrong?" Father asked.
"I had that horrible dream again." I shuddered, keeping my arms wrapped tightly around my trembling body.
"Again?" Mother and Father looked at each other.
"Unfortunately."
Father sat down on the bed beside me and took hold of my trembling hand. "Don't worry about it, Rune. It was just a bad nightmare."
"I can't help but worry about it." My lower lip was trembling violently.
"I'll talk to Madira about it," Mother offered.
"Thank you," I whispered.
I only hoped that Madira would be able to find out why I was having such dreams so I could find a way to be rid of them for good.
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