Dreamscapes
Through the day she watched him.
He was drowning. Struck with a sudden need to breath, his mouth filling with blood, he coughed. Thrusting his head above the surface of the lake, he took in a lung filling gasp, only to find the air bitter with acrid smoke. He plunged beneath the surface and swam, his arms aching as he reached for the shore, a distant goal he never approached, no matter how long and hard he sought it. The blood was in his eyes, coating the lining of his throat, blocking his nose. He was choking, he was dying; suffocating in the life of every victim he had ever taken. Finally, after hours of struggle, he simply gave up, sinking beneath the surface. Laughter rang around him. Demonic taunts. He was dying, and it was good.
Until a slender, sun-bronzed arm broke through the surface of the lake of blood and pulled him up into the moonlight again.
Through the night he watched her.
The field was glutted with demons. They came, one after a thousand, as she fought them with fist and dagger, kicks and clubs. She could barely move, for with every step another fell beneath her, and yet their numbers never decreased. On she battled, through one day and into the next, the field awash with blood of all colours. Finally, after endless toil, only one demon stood before her. “Do you wanna dance?” he asked, shifting into the vampire’s ridges and fangs. She kicked, she clawed, she pummelled him, but on he danced, undaunted.
She didn’t know when she picked up the sword, but there it was in her hand. As she thrust it through his chest, the burning soul lit his eyes with glory. She dropped to her knees. “Not again. Oh god, not again,” she screamed.
And he pulled the blade out with ease. “Did you really think I’d ever leave you, pet?” He dropped to the gory ground beside her, pulling her tenderly into his arms. “Love you. No matter what, always love you.”
She sat on the bed, watching him. He sat beside her, looking into her eyes.
“We are real, aren’t we?” he asked.
“Yes, my love,” she replied. “We are real.”