14 July 2012

A vampire's funeral

Lestat de Lioncourt
I'm listening to "Les mémoires blessées" by Dark Sanctuary... sounds that describe how I felt waking up this morning after a strange dream.

It was set in the future, yet with elements from the past.
This was the first dream I had of me as a vampire. I don't know who made me and I don't know what happened to me.

I am in a big city, walking along a sidewalk. It was night and I see crowds and crowds of people rushing past me to get out of the rain, but I didn't feel like I was suffocating. They are so weak.


I am walking past glass walls now and stopped to see my reflection.

It must be cold since the people are wearing coats and jackets. Yet in this reflection I see myself in a red summer dress and a black hooded poncho, which covers some of my grey skin. I cannot sense the cold.

I keep walking, aimless and wondering where am I going. My senses are of a magnitude not of this world. I hear what these people are thinking... their anger, sadness, worries, lust and secrets. Noise that is so loud, like a stadium full of people shouting, talking and whispering.

All I smell is their blood... So inviting and arousing. I can kill right now but then a strong urge tells me to stop walking. I am standing at a door that I must go through and as if it was a command, I walk in. It is even darker in there but I can see. No lights and I can see.

Steps. I take the steps leading me under ground.

Then there is a candle flicker... then distant voices that seem so near.
I come to a large hall and remain still because now I see the others.
My kind.

We look at each other and the voices disappear. Silence.
I cannot read them. I cannot hear them.
Then I think, I shall leave if I am not welcome.


Suddenly a hand touches me on my right shoulder. Stroking delicately. Soft lips touching my ear. A vampire. Old... tall... strong... kind yet intimidating.
"Come, my dear," he said. "You are... after all... one of us."

I look at the others; how they gently nod in acceptance and I hear them again. They are saying, Welcome and What a beautiful newborn and some think about making love to me.
The vampire led me to another chamber and it is filled with only luxury. Velvet curtains, velvet and leather furniture, majestic carpets, silk cushions, mahogany walls, candelabras and chandeliers. All this means nothing to me.

I sit next to him on a couch and turn to take a good look at him.
He crosses his legs and stares at the bowl of useless fresh fruits on the coffee table. He isn't looking at me. Without him talking I then hear him say, I know who you are, you need not tell me your name.
He pauses. 

I am Lestat.

What he said startles me. I must be dreaming, I telepathically respond.
Lestat smiles at the irony. Then he asks, Tell me, my love, who is the one who made you?
At that question I stop short and Lestat immediately knows that I am looking for answers.

Suddenly I hear a loud crash and the others flew into the chamber as though blown away from a large explosion coming from the hall. Everything is now happening so fast. A manly figure storms in and attacks Lestat. Another vampire. An angry one. Could it be my maker? Could it be that he is furious because I decided to betray him? With Lestat?

He claws at Lestat, clasps Lestat's head with two strong hands and rips it off at one go.
I jump in, the others jump in and we have our revenge right there and then. I am raging with nothing but the urge to kill. I tear at the body of this unknown murderer while the others bite. I pull off his arm while another his leg. We want him to suffer. And then he is dead.

But so is Lestat.

The others tell me that we have to immediately bury his remains at a secret place.
They carry his lifeless corpse while I cradle his decapitated head on some sort of a platter covered by silken cloth.

His blonde curls tickle me at my hands and sadness take over me as we make our way out, in the rain, into the darkness, to a secret place for a vampire's funeral.

The dream ends here and I woke up in tears.
Maybe I was heartbroken knowing of Lestat's death - one of the most important vampires in history, but maybe it was also an incredible relief knowing that I had met him, even in a dream.

And Lestat... he never dies.


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