[Underworld] Circle of Hell

[Salem Renfield]

The black French doors slid open slowly, as in film slow motion. The sheer curtains that hung from the ceiling to the floor billowed mystically in the wind. They came to a stop before hitting the wall and, as it normally did, a white fog crept into the room from the patio outside. It hovered over the wooden floors, carpeting it in seconds, lazily floating towards her bed. She scanned the room, as she had always done at this point, seeing the full moon lighting up her room in the dark grey tint throwing objects into rough and frightening shadows. They were obscure and caused her over active imagination to make them move. Her eyes kept finding new things to fear.

A gust of wind filled the room, her curtains moving wildly and an unfamiliar scent to fill her senses. She strayed to find something in the shadows, parts of her room purposely being in shadow, black nothing allowing her mind to fill in the void with whatever she wanted. Her heart beat within her chest was pounding in her ears, she could see her white tank top moving from the blood that was being pushed throughout her hot body. Although she saw nothing, she could feel something, hear something, sense it. Her ears strained to find a noise, all it seeming to hear were faint whispers of nothing. She frowned and focused on the corners that were pitch black, empty, disturbing. She swore she could feel something crawling over her skin, all over her, but she was unsure of what it was. But it was something.

Salem looked right, left, behind her, anywhere she possibly could she study, put some sort of answer with. But it was nothing. Always nothing. She saw something move in the corner of her eye and she jerked her head to the left, gasping at the sight of herself in the mirror attached to her vanity. She sitting on the bed, her conforter at her waist, her hair flying everywhere from her disturbed sleep pattern, she glanced at the blackness in her mirror and saw what she had always seen, nothing. She heard her name being stated lowly and she quickly looked right and came face to face with the monster who gave her these night terrors. Piercing, pale skin, fangs that were sharp and ready to pierce the flesh he was seconds from. A grin of perversion, a look of sheer evil, it all seemed to tie together with what had been unfolding in her room. Hissing was low in her ears, causign the hairs on her neck to stand on end, giving her a shiver up and down her spine. She stared into its eyes seeing nothing but blackness, as she had in the corners of her room. Her mouth quivered with fright as the monster crawled towards her on hands and knees, licking his lips seductively as if she were to be the most tender piece of meat he'd eaten. As always, in reaction to his actions, she leaned back as if she could get away, but there was something holding her there. She breathed in deeply and was ready to scream, but she was unable to make the sound, unable to even try to make a sound. She watched him inch further and further till he was right there on top of her, like a cat ready to feed on its prey he leaned back and looked at her beginning to lowly growl. Unable to move Salem watched him with fear, heart beating so fast it would fly out of her chest. But suddenly she found her voice, found that she could scream and she did so quickly. But just as fast as she screamed, the man lurched forward even faster.

Screaming at the pain that was to come, Salem Renfield flew up in her bed, quickly grabbing her neck where she had felt the puncture of the fangs, the pain that was indescribable. She glanced at her body, praying that she had no markings on her anywhere. She looked up at the doors that led out onto her patio to find them closed. No fog, no hissing, no words, no darkness. The moon allowed her to see everything in the room. She looked to the left to see herself in the mirror and she realized that this had been another dream, another dream in which that thing was there pouncing her and killing her.

[Dai Yosada]

His lips curled up in a smile that would wake the dead. Eyes deep and endless and black. Skin white like the moon beaming down at him cheerily. How he hated cheer. Fangs, white and glittering, shimmered out from under the black hood of his long cloak. It was all perfect. Her screams, her desperation to be rid of him. Everything was going perfectly as planned.

"Angel," he purred, his black eyes shifting to the tall form leaned against the black Benz parked outside the apartment building. The man, slender, with white skin and whiter hair blinked his blue eyes from under the black fedora. He uncrossed his arms and fixed the black leather gloves back on his hands.

Dai Yosada turned from his spot and strode towards the car, pushing back his hood to reveal his dark hair, thick and choppy, with braids at random from his neck, white and black. His thick boots made a heavy clunking sound as he made his way to the car. His companion, giving him a fanged smirk, opened the door for him, allowing him to slide into the lush leather of the passenger's seat. The door slammed shut with an expensively muffled sound. Dai's eyes followed Angel as he moved around the car to get into the driver's seat.

Dai ignored him and looked out the window at the tall apartment buildings. The engine started and he listened as the wheels crunched on gravel in the alleyway. The apartment slowly moved from his view as Angel drove them out onto the road, empty and desolate.

"And?" came the smooth voice from the driver's seat. Dai licked his lips, hissing slightly at the interruption of his silence. He looked over at the white man, so young. He considered him for a moment before answering.

"Soon, my Angel," he muttered, looking back out of the window. "I'll have her soon."

[Salem Renfield]

She was tired, dead on her feet so to speak, but she wasn't really quite fond of thinking that to herself considering her dreams were becoming more violent, closer to a true ending. Most dreams she had ended when she was about to fall and hit the ground, or whene someone was going ot stab her, but these...these felt so real that she swore at any given time, she'd come to that point when it was stime to wake up, before those fangs entered her neck, that she would feel the pain. Salem knew that soon she'd probably never wake up. She jerked from the cold and felt her arm hit a crystal paperweaight. She gasped and literally flew over her desk to grab it before it crashed to the ground.

"Damn." She said to herself, biting her lower lip as she put it back onto her desk, mad that she had even said such a word, never being one for swear words. She sat down in her chair and leaned back, she was jupy today, far more than normal. She hadn't gotten much sleep for fear of having another dream, she was stressing over several tasks at the museum, her car was wrecked and in the shop, she had new items needing to be signed, and she was behind on her catalogging. Today was a long day, she knew, which was why she had already made a second helpiong of coffee.

Salem was needing to talk to someone about these nightmares, she had rid herself of them once she started college, but now she was starting to have them again, far more violent. She had been having nightmarse for almost a month and all of them starred one man, if she was so tempted to call him that. His eyes, his voice, the noises he made, the way he looked, and moved. It was all terror to her even if she knew it was a dream. She wasn't very gullible, but since she was having those dreams she was wondering if perhaps that person was real for she had seen him several times before.

The phone rang and she jumped high out of her seat, almost into the floor. She sighed out and reached over and grabbed the phone.

"Renfield." Her boss was informing her of either the lateness on her catalogs or a new shipment. The latter being correct. "Already? Yeah, I'll go down and sign." Salem hung up, wondering why she was suddenly getting so many pictures from some unidentified person. It was donations, more than likely, but she was unsure whether or not to open them considering they were addressed to her. It was the eighth delivery this week.

[Dai Yosada]

Dai slept during the day. Or at least, he usually did. But today he was reviewing a few photocopies of files one of his lackeys had retrieved from the museum in town. They were records. Records of a one Renfield, Salem. He had been learning about her the entire week, tormenting her for months. Her break would come soon, he just did not know when.

He sat at the table, the lap top screen glowing at him as the papers were proppe on his crossed legs. He had read these pages eight times already and was beginning to become exasperated by the fact that nothing new was coming out of them. He glanced up as he heard Angel turn restlessly in his coffin not five feet away. The younger vampire never slept well if his maker was not sleeping. Dai smiled lovingly at the casket before looking back down at the papers, then over at the computer screen.

He tossed the papers on the desk and began to type in the codes to hack into the museum's personnel files. It would take some doing, but he wasn't totally dumb to these sorts of things. He had been trying to get into the system for a week, but it had taken a special concentration for him to locate the codes and commit them to memory. He licked his lips as his black eyes scanned the page in front of his and he clicked the one for Salem.

And everything spread out before him. Birthdate, mother, father, blood type--oh, that intrigued him--address, phone number, office number, medical records, previous diseases, disorders--only night terrors, which made Dai smile--anything and everything he would need to know about her was right here.

He wanted to brush up on his knowledge of her before he actually confronted her to devour her.

Angel turned restlessly and sighed. Dai's eyes shifted to look at the coffin. He smiled.

[Salem Renfield]

"I-I'm sorry?" Salem would have normally been holding the clipboard in her arms like a precious and fragile child, but the moment when the news came as to what she was receiving she was clinging to it for dear life. She blinked over a million times, her mouth dropped open in bewilderment, the man with the large truck staring at her like she were psychotic. Most people would have normally accepted what he had with open arms, especially musuems, but this woman was not. She shook her head and glanced down at the sheets of paper with documentation and summaries of what was being carried. Salem shook her head again and again, her eyes scanning the pages one by one, shocked to see they were always signed with a decorative, elaborate, script M. It made no sense! She was getting all these things from this person and she was beginning to wonder if perhaps she should take some time to see what the objects were. Especially after this.

"I-I'm sorry." She stated again, letting three pages she held in between her fingers fall onto the straight board in her right hand. "This is...um...interesting." She scratched her brow and glanced around the back of the musuem where large shipments were brought in. Cameras, security, fencing, such measures that had been taken.

"Don't you have exhibits dedicated to mummies? From the Egyptian era?" Salem turned her head back to the delivery man. She cocked an eyebrow, her mouth probably still dragging the floor.

"No!" She said glancing down at teh clipboard trying to understand all of this. "We just particularly meet with people before receiving shipments on grand scales. But...this...isn't really in the Egyptian category." The man looked at the truck that held the contents inside. She could tell he was beginning to wonder if perhaps security didn't check the objects very well if this woman was not aware of the shipment. Salem was concerned with that as well, but this had been the eighth, now ninth, time this week she had received packaged goods from this so called 'M'.

"Especially a....Gothic...elaborate...gold ridden....velvet interior...coffin!"

[Dai Yosada]

Angel would be fine without him for awhile, Dai had decided finally. The younger vampire was still getting used the whole undead thing, and clung to Dai like a lover, but he would be sleeping till sunset anyway, and Dai would most likely be back before then.

Dai pulled on the black leather gloves as he moved towards the stairwell door that would lead him to the daylight outside. He donned his black fedora and buttoned the trench coat. He pushed out into the street.

Sunlight hurt, it was true, but with the shadow of the hat and the clothing over every inch of his form, it hurt very little. He had the ability to walk in the sun for short periods of time without consequence, and with this attire it would elongate his time he could spend. Luckily, the sun was not out today. It was hidden behind large grey clouds that threatened rain. All the lovely weather of London.

Dai opened the door of the black Mercedes Benz on the curb and slid into the driver's seat. He closed the door and started the engine. It purred obediently as he pulled off the curb and began down the road, only one place he needed to go to.

[Salem Renfield]

Salem sat in her office, biting her thumb nail, pensive on this whole situation. So she had been receiving gifts, if she could go so far as to calling it that. She had many packages, although tiny, but heavy sitting in the corner of her office. She had neglected them of attention due to the fact that she had other things that were needing to be taken care of, not precarious gifts that were blatantly labeled for her and not to eh museum. Being caught looking at such things would be on work time and she had always mindlessly left them there all by themselves when she headed home for she was having to take the tube home for her car had been gone for quite some time and she was sure a stranger didn’t want to sit on a crowded subway seat with boxes everywhere.

She sighed out and stood up, tugging on the tail of her white button up shirt, preparing herself for what was in those boxes. What if it were body parts? The person was needing her to assemble them and put them into a coffin? The horror that ran through her mind made her sit back down and try to figure out something else to do. She bit her lower lip. She was afraid of a few boxes! What was the matter with her? Salem laughed lightly, uncomfortably, as she glared over at the brown paper wrapped objects tied with brown decorative string. Whoever this person was they sure were bring out all the stops in decorating touches. Calligraphy lettering, beautiful wrappings, and strings. It was highly surprising.

Salem knew she needed to stop being a baby and go over and look at them for it was a gift. But who in God’s name would send her a coffin? She glanced at her desk at the object she was receiving. Photographs showing her the object. She sighed and stood up once more and walked out from behind her desk and over to the objects.

“It’s just a box. A gift.” Salem knew this was doing nothing for her fear. What was there to be afraid of! She had seen dead bodies, carcasses for her work. This would be a breeze, yet she was still scared of opening them. The mind always getting the best of her.

Kneeling in front of one box she picked it up and surveyed it, looking at its sides, its underside, the top, the wrapping, the string, it was all so perfect. She bit her lower lip and untied the string and began to rip open the package, surprised to find a metal box with decorative jewels. She frowned and let out a confused mutter. That was different. Most people would put something that precious in a large box filled with packaging foam. She glanced at the tiny handle on the front. It was some kind of emblem. She touched it and quickly heard a little tick. She saw the lid pop open slightly.

Salem looked around her office as if she were waiting for someone to pop out from behind her and scare her. She realized how stupid this was and shook the thought out of her head and looked down at the box and lifted the lid, hearing it slightly creak from age. She saw a few old photographs, very old, curved edges, creases in the paper. Faded as well.

“Interesting.” She said to herself as she picked the small bundle up in her hand and pulled off the string that held them together. She saw nothing but darkness, gray-scaled photo’s that were rough, deteriorating, aged. She moved one picture to another, laying them into the box as she kept trying to find something, but all she saw was darkness. Until the last photograph. Her heart stopped, her stomach sank, her head spun.

“You.” She said to herself almost afraid of her own voice, afraid that the picture would come alive! Suddenly a knock at the door broke her concentration and she fell onto her butt, letting out a scream of fear and surprise. The door flew open and a man stepped into view.

”You okay? The man asked. A co-worker. Salem did nothing but breathe heavily, holding a hand to her chest, the picture being tossed…somewhere. The man nodded oddly and thumbed over his shoulder. ”Your tour group. It’s here.” Salem’s eyes grew wide and she glanced at her wrist watch. She was fifteen minutes late to start the tour. She muttered a curse, followed by a growl. She stood up and brushed past the man at her door and quickly jogged down the hall. Whatever was going on, she swore it would be the death of her.

[Dai Yosada]

"Oh, are you here for the two thirty tour, sir?" said the cheery young woman at the desk, her eyebrows raised expectantly at Dai who was leaned against the counter. He gave a curt nod and produced the money from his jacket. The woman excepted it with a smile and handed him three booklets with the information. She pointed down the hall. "It was to start down that hall there, but it began fifteen minutes ago, so I'm afraid they will have moved on."

"I can find them, thank you, miss," Dai said icily, reaching up to tilt his hat forward a little more as he walked through the decorative doors and glanced around. He spotted the group of chattering tourists waiting for thier tour guide and he moved in with them, blending in with them. Any of them that looked at him would never remember him. He looked like everyone and no one, he was now just a face in the crowd.

And the face he awaited was moving closer through the door on his left.

[Salem Renfield]

Salem heard the crowd and she almost slipped and fell from her heeled boots. She had regained her ground and turned the corner, smiling happily as the people looked aggravated that she was late. She apologized quickly for the inconvenience and told them there was a technical difficulty, although she was sure nobody would believe her for she was such a horrid liar.

“My name is Salem Renfield, I am the museum’s historian. Today we will be paying close attention to a section on my expertise. Gothic art in Europe. Now if you will all follow me down the corridor we will see our first exhibit, architecture.” She smiled and clapped her hands together and proceeded to direct the group down the hall. She closed her eyes and triedto regain her breath, for she had lost it many times this morning, especially after quite a fright and then having to run down into the lobby.

The people chattered amongst themselves and when they reached their designated area she was quick to explain the archways, castle pieces, the history behind all those that were on exhibit. She was allowing them a grace period to glance around before moving on, wanting to give them extra time for what she caused them to lose, and also to get a feel for the dreary works that people had put into the items.

This was her favorite room, by far. The exhibits were dark and morbid, dreary and bleak. It was quick a frightful thing to see at night when she was closing down, but having known it for so long she was no longer afraid of the shadows and ornamented silhouettes she had become accustomed to. There were large marble pillars holding up the second floor, but in a way that fit in perfectly with the themed section. The lighting was even dark, dreary, and scary. She heard a few people commenting on how nice it all was and she smiled, answering a question or two about a few pieces.

This was also a good time to survey her crowd. She saw a few familiar faces who happened to frequent the museum a lot, but others she were mainly new. She bit her lower lip, again answering questions and warning them they were moving on and that they’d be able to come back after the tour was over. She scanned the crowd and frowned and almost faded in her words when a person of dark stature stood bulked up, looking down, hat covering the face. That was something she didn’t see everyday.

“All right, if you will, we’ll move on to the next room.”

[Dai Yosada]

She had seen him. And he had given the exact effect he wanted. Fear.

It was Dai's favorite emotion these days. Because fear gave him control, and control was something he liked to have over situations. The tour group began off in a different direction and Dai looked up his eyes fixated on the woman's back.

"How often to you look at these displays yourself?" he echoed in her head. No one else around them would be able to hear it, but she would hear it as clearly as if someone were standing right next to her...or behind her. He melted behind a younger couple, his form melding perfectly with thier shadows. And no one noticed that one of thier group seemingly disappeared, because he was totally unmemorable. No one but Salem would ever know he was there amongst them, a breath away from eating them all.

[Salem Renfield]

Salem paused in walking and turned around with a soft frown.

"I'm sorry?" She asked, glancing around at the group, seeing a few of them not even paying attention to her and glaring at flyers and pamphlets. "Did someone ask a question?" A few people glanced around at others and they all came to the decision that nobody had said something. Salem found the lone figure all the way in the back, still glaring down at the floor. Why wasn't he looking at her or other things? Why was he continunously staring at the floor? She shivered and smiled.

"My mistake." She turned and walked into the other room, explaining the gothic designs in furniture, seating, dining rooms, all were on display, roped off. The room felt cold, this was her second favorite room for it put the people in a certain setting. They were glad to look around and chatter about it and, again, she stood close by, watching those who were there.

Salem wasn't truly watching, of course, her mind trying to wrap around the familiarity of that voice, those words, the feeling she got. It made her cross her arms. Even though she was wearring dark grey pleated pants and a long sleeve shirt, it still felt cold in the room. Normally this was the warmest room for the false windows that were to mimick real live windows in houses and castles.

Salem knew that voice, but from where? She frowned and looked at the backs of people, finding everyone except the darkened person. She suddenly caught the scent of a man and her mind was brought back to the real situation. She looked beside her and saw a few older women talking and pointing at certain displayed artificats. That smell, where was that smell coming from? More like who was it coming from.

Suddenly she realized she was going in circles, trying to spot that scent. She followed a few people, noticing that they either had a different scent or none at all. She'd be caught and ask if they were needing to know anything, nothing out of the ordinary really. She just knew that there was something she was missing.

[Dai Yosada]

Dai was behind her now. She couldn't really see him, only smell him, sense him, know he was there, but never know why, or how, or where. He ran his tongue over his lips and lifted a hand. He ran a finger up her spine.

"Salem...don't you think you should come with me?" he breathed, his voice like fog, or smoke. There, but not truly there. You could see it, smell it, taste it, but never touch it, never know where it came from. He brushed back a peice of her hair before melting back into another shadow.

"Don't you think you want out of this stuffiness, hm?" he purred from the form of a pillar. "I'm your doorway to ecstacy..."

[Salem Renfield]

Salem stood watching the crowd, but before she knew it something was there, something was touching her, talking to her, covering her. She felt her spine tingle as if someone were running their hands up and down her back, she straightened up and quickly gasped and looked around behind her.

The words made no sense, not truly, but it gave her the feeling that she should probably be fearful of whatever kept taunting her. She glanced around, her eyes scanning one face after another, seeing nothing but people laughing, talking, moving...but she then realized...

Salem jerked her head around after she swore she saw the man in the black outfit stare at her. By the time she realized she had been stared at by the mysterious tourist, he was gone. Again she was confused. What was going on? Salem lifted her hand and proceeded to tell poeple to had out of the room to another. Artwork. It was her least favorite. The paintings were bland, faces that had been contorted with torture, sadness, agony, all the feelings of depression and the plague being painted with dull lifeless colors and all being displayed in a darkened room to convey the feeling.

She heard the man talk to her and she was looking right and left, all around her, spinning in circles. She'd see the length of the coat disappear behind a pillar, laughter filling her head, teases, taunts, hisses, chills, all pointing to her. She'd puase to talk to people, asking if anyone was talking. They'd look at her like she were crazy. She then would see him looking up, only to no longer be there when someone passed by.

"Impossible." She said to herself as she watched what was happening. It was like she was standing outside of herself and everyone was oblivious to her and to the person she saw. THERE! Her mind screamed at her when she caught sights of him walking behind a wall.

"Hey!" She said loudly to the man. People stopped looking at pictures to find their focuse on her. She looked at them and smiled. "Sorry. You all look around. If you have any questions, be free to ask. Excuse me." She smiled and walked fast paced to the wall where she swore she saw him leave. The wall was a corner that had a door that blended in with the dark maroon walls. It wasn't an exit for fires, it was a door that only employees could pass trhough. Much like a secret path to other parts of the building. It was mainly used nowadays for security reasons.

She pushed on the door and it popped open. She alked into the dark hallway that smelled of the man. There were small lights in the cieling, but very dim. Some had even blown out causing her vision to be impared greatly.

The door latched behind her and suddenly she felt claustrophobic. She looked in front of her seeing nothing but a few orbs of light on the dark cement ground.

"Hey! You cannot be in here!" She screamed out loudly, hearing herself echo down the hall. "If you don't show yourself I am going to call security!"

[Dai Yosada]

Dai was a shadow now, but at her call he melted from them a flash of skin in her vision before he was out of that hallway, moving away from her, and away from the crowd.

A satisfied smile curled around his dark features. He moved past the front desk, dropping the untouched pamphlets in the garbage bin and leaving. It had begun to drizzle outside, and the water seeped through his jacket until he got into the black Benz with a content sigh.

He pulled off the fedora, brushing back his hair, and fixing his gaze on the museum. He cocked his head a little, wondering how crazy she thought she was now. He smiled, then started slightly as he felt a buzzing at his hip. He reached into his pocket, bringing out his phone and opening it.

"Hello?"

"After the girl?" came a smooth, just-woke-up voice. It was Angel. Dai smiled as he propped the phone against his shoulder and started the car, pulling out into traffic and turning around.

"Yes, my dear," he said, soothingly. "She's almost broken. You must remember, my Angel," he said, a hint of sadistic playfulness in his voice. "Humans are just like cattle. Hit them enough, torture them enough, and they do exactly what you want."

Dai pulled out in front of a pair of young teenagers. The swore at him out the window and then began to follow him. He grinned into his rearview mirror.

"Are you hungry my love?" he purred. "Dinner is following me home."

[Salem Renfield]

Salem locked the door to her office and let out a sigh, running her hands down her face, trying to understand what the hell was going on. She had not just imagined this man? This person who strikingly resembled someone she had seen before. She just could not put her finger on it just yet. But it was within reach, she knew.

She glanced down at the box that had been untouched since she last left the room in quite a hurry. She bent down and grabbed the paper and searcehd for an snwer that had been written, but it showed nothing, nothing but the M. She tossed the paper from her and sighed out, angered that this was the most confusing day of her life. She stood up and walked over to the desk and dialed storage. it rang several times beofre a man picked up, his Cockney accent very heavy.

"I need to check out my box delivered to me today. Is it down there yet?" The man paused breifly and was quick to reply with the answer she wanted to hear. She hung up and ran to the door and then out of the office and down the hall.

She knew something was amuck, either she was being stalked or she was going insane. Did that person who had disappeared and reappeared have anything to do with the packages she had been receiving? She was unsure but she had to get to the bottom of this somehow. Salem made her way into the cellar of the musuem where the men let her into the room where her coffin was.

"What the hell am I going to do with you?" She asked the mahogonay coffin that was sitting on anelevated table, White tape securing the doors from being opened. She was quick to pull it off slowly as to not damage the coffin. It had pure gold handles, it was heavy and real mahogany, etched drawings around the sides, letting her know it was a time piece.

She bit her lower lip after running her hands over the slick, glossed box. She touched the cold handles and them grabbed the side and pushed up on the coffin, grunting at the heaviness. She felt it pop open, the whole seven foot lid, and show her true red velvet lining, even a pillow. She frowned and smelled the scent of the man again.

Salem was baffled. Why the hell did she get this? She stepped closer and saw a tiny little piece of paper with that letter she was getting all too familiar with. She picked it up and quickly unfolded it and saw romantic handwriting, script and fancy cursive. She looked around when she felt a cold chill, the room being dead quiet and still. She sighed out and tried to read the paper. She looked over at the wall and grabbed the telephone and pushed a few buttons. She bit her lower lip and waited for a response.

"Doctor McCallum, hi this is Salem Renfield at the museum. I am needing your help on translating some writing on a piece of paper."

[Dai Yosada]

Dai waited impatiently by the door for Angel who was still back in the back room. Dai listened as his offspring rustled around and then a moment later reappeared, pulling on his own black trench coat, and pressing his fedora to his head.

"Ready, my love?" Dai asked, annoyed. Angel didn't say anything but moved past him and out the door. Dai shook his head. His friend could be so difficult sometimes. Dai followed the taller vampire out of the door and into the dark streets of London. The moon wasn't out, it was a new moon, so the only light was provided by the city.

Dai began resolutely down the street towards the lot he had parked thier car in earlier that day. They were going to keep thier nightly post by Salem's apartment, Dai already prepping to delve into her mind again.

As much as it helped him with keeping people in check underneath him, Dai did not like going into other's minds. He had yet to figure out his own, and wandering about in someone else's was intimidating. And if he didn't do it right, he could get lost in there. That was where Angel came in. If the younger vampire notcied sign of him struggling to get out, Angel was responsible for bringing him out.

Dai breathed in a long breath and sighed it out. It wouldn't be long now before he could finally retrieve the goal he'd been so long seeking.

[Salem Renfield]

Salem sat on her freshly made bed, staring at the piece of paper that was now concealed in a plastic baggy, labeled by a number, and a handwritten translation right next to it. She had on her reading glasses and was sitting there hunched over, her elbows on her thighs, wondering if this was a threat or something else. She had been pondering on its meaning ever since the translation came about.

She drew in a deep breath and let it out, glancing up at the windows in front of her and the patio to the rgith. She quickly looked around the sand colored room, the only light being on was that on her side table to her right. The black iron art piece was small, but the lighting it gave off was huge and calming. She stood up and walked over to the window and grabbed the curtains with her hands and pulled them together. They were sheer and white, but it offered some sort of safety blanket for her considering she wasn't one who wanted to live in the dark.

She slowly walked over to the patio door and glanced out the many window panes. The only thing she hated about her two French patio doors was the fact that it was all windows, no coverage. Anyone could easily break into her house, luckily she was on the second floor. She opened the doors and stepped outside and glanced at the busy city far off. She wondered why she was having such nightmares and why it involved this unfamiliar person. Either way it made her chill. She turned around and went back inside, closing and locking the doors tightly followed by closing the curtains.

She made her way back to the bed and flopped down and grabbed the translation.

"Enjoy the new bed." She glanced down at the original and saw the M. "What the hell." She said to herself. Salem wasn't down on jokes, but if this was one...there would be hell to pay.She sat the two items on the bedside table and reached under the lamp and turned the light off. She took her reading glasses off and sat them in the protective case and put it into her table and was quick to get under the white comforter and snuggle into comfort.

[Dai Yosada]

Angel pulled them into the gravelly drive next to the apartment buildings. There was almost marks in the ground where they sat in the same place every night. The white haired vampired turned off the car and leaned back in his seat with the rubbing sound of expensive leather on expensive leather.

Dai watched him for a moment before pressing his fedora on his head and getting out, stretching his back. He shut the door with the thudding sound and hear Angel get out as well. Dai leaned against the car as his companion moved around next to him. Dai smelled cigarette smoke and glanced over to see Angel smoking luxioriously. He sneered and turned his attention back to the french doors on the second floor.

Salem thought she was safe up there. Thought that no one would ever break in and steal from her, or hurt her. But what she didn't know was that Dai Yosada did not need a ladder, or a gun to get into her home and frighten her. He did not need rope and tape to tie her down and rape her. He simply used his mind. The mind was such a powerful tool. Mortals simply did not know the extent and oly used a quarter of thier own. Vampires, however. They tapped into powers that mortals could only write fiction books about.

"She's not asleep yet..." Dai muttered, and Angel looked over at him. "We wait."

[Salem Renfield]

She tossed here and there in her bed, grunting as she slowl slipped into the sleep that she was welcoming for she hadn't been able to get a good nights rest in a long time. She was thinking good thoughts, thinking of something that made her happy, something that she could practically dream about. She thought of a hot actor, a hot singer, a movie she wanted to see, a boyfriend she was needing, a kitten, lavender fields. Anything that would ease her mind and allow her to sleep into a land of nothing but good dreams.

She felt sleep consume her and before she knew it her mind was hard at work, allowing her to dream of those lavender fields. But almost as soon as the image progressed, the sky that had been blue and crystal clear was quickly clouding. She shifted in her bed, sleep heavily veiling her. She moaned and flinched when the storm clouds rolled quickly, dangerously so. It seemed as if she were flying through the fields. Normally fear would have set in normally, but it was still a calming feeling, however it was becoming harder and harder to stay calm, especially when the scent of lavender was being replaced with that unfamiliar mans and her house was well in view.

[Dai Yosada]

Dai was waiting for her.

He stood in the window, watching as she inched nearer and nearer, the lavender fields surrounding the house, nothing else for miles. Storm clouds rolled angrily around, and Dai stood in the middle of her bedroom, waiting for her to come to him.

Even though she was frightened of what she saw in the dreams he gave her, deep inside she waited for them. Hoping that myabe that night would be the night she would recognize him, or know his smell, or understand it all. He saw her drifting nearer and he purred, slithering across the room, snakes, made of black smoke sliding from under the bed, writhing around on the floor, joined shortly by spiders of the same material, as Salem was in her room again, but in a distorted version of it.

The mirror on her vanity--it warped everything. The snakes slithered angrily around thier feet, the spiders surged and crawled over thier ankles and legs. Dai was concealing his features with a clown mask, his head tilted awkwardly to the side as he watched the woman.

"I'm your door to ecstacy," he whispered, the clown mask grinning wickedly at her. "Let me have your essence. Your blood."