The sun went down. Armastus sat sideways on one of the rafters of the old warehouse, his arms around his knee. Wearing his traditional vampire outfit, with his long, silky black hair put into a tight ponytail, with a few stray strands pushed out of his eyes, he looked contemplative, for he dreamt of Ivor. He positively couldn’t let Ivor go, but if he went near him, Ivor’s life would be at a high risk. “What the hell am I supposed to do? I love him. Why can’t they understand that!” Armastus growled deep in his throat, and changed his pose. “The stupid don’t know why they’re doing this.” Here he noticed the sun set, and very soon, the soft fluorescent glow of the moon could be seen through the small cracks of the old wood. The bluish light played against Armastus’ distressed features. He gave a wry smile. “Great. Night, at long last.”
Now, darkness again. An ominous darkness; only a few threads of moonlight piercing it. Ivor was lost and bewildered. Where is he? Why does it feel so weird to be sitting on a bed when he could swear only seconds ago he was walking all alone in the middle of nowhere? It was all as usual at his. Tired, Ivor subsided in the cozy armchair, when suddenly he heard a light knock on the window. He rose and went to the window. Nobody. Only the bleak trees waving and shaking under the cutting wind like sinister shadows of unknown fiends. Shuddering with chill, he was about to go back to the room, but the air was so fresh smelling of humid leaves and rain that he leant forward and closed eyes, only for a bit of a second. And at the moment he opened them, he was falling into a horrifying obscurity of an abyss. He felt his voice too weak to scream and body too benumbed to move. Can you ever imagine how frightening it is to realize that there might be something you can’t resist? Held down by enormous fear, he closed eyes and reconciled. But strangely, he never fell. He was carried away by something so powerful and yet so airy and weightless that he could only guess what it was. A shadow? A haunting spirit? He never knew. It was like the entire world around him turned into something uncontrollable and wild. All he felt was the wind in his hair, all he saw was the flickering light of cold and indifferent stars high up in the night sky and some blood chilling ghost-like creatures and innumerable eerie grey shadows who seemed to be everywhere. His frozen mind was incapable to comprehend, incapable to track the sequence of bleak and futile actions, and yet he found strength to try to scream again--and at the very moment he attempted that, all this mortifying madness was gone as though it had never existed. He felt myself lying on wet ground and heavy drops of rain falling on my face. Excessively high trees were bending, cracking and rustling under the gusts of wind. He got up and made a hesitant step. He had no idea where he was or at least in what direction to go, but he started walking. It was hard: branches closed his way becoming denser and denser. They scratched his face, ripping his light shirt, hitting hard, but he didn’t stop as though there was something mighty which was beckoning him to some mysterious place and whispering all the directions into his ears. These trees seemed to be living creatures, obstinate and willful. They didn’t want to let him go and at the moment when he was almost exhausted and lost all hope, at the moment when the wind became so brutal that the trees started crashing down with great roar and rumble--sudden silence--and he found himself standing on the soft grass, so pleasant to his bare feet. No trees at all. Nothing. Greenish sparkles were flying around like tiny fireflies. The air was heavy and hot as though before a thunderstorm. Unaware of anything menacing him, he made a little step and… plunged in water.
Flash of light -- and darkness. No air left. No, nothing I could do benumbed with fear. I had only myself to blame… Darkness. “Awake, awake!”
Have you ever dreamt like this? This night dream seemed to come to him from his childhood with the only purpose to turn him into a child, timid and weak.
Ivor didn’t know how long he slept when he looked at his clock. 11p.m. He rose from the low chair. Dressed, he was ready to go. He grabbed his jacket off the chair, and opened the window. There was a cool breeze outside, and it smelt of grass and wet leaves. The stars were bright, but nothing could compare to the magic light of the moon.