Upon Waking

Integra stood at the immense gothic arched window that oversaw the back lawn of her estate, complete with private lake. She thought she saw the wisp of a shadow of someone treading the grounds, possibly one of the minimal security left available to patrol. But that was merely a thought at the back of her mind as she gazed at the full white moon illuminating the landscape.

The dreams had become more vivid. She hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in over three days. Coincidently, it had been three days since her rather unnerving encounter with Alucard which had left her just as shaken as the nightmares, only in a very different way. But, even that took a back seat to the visions in her head, so very disturbing they were. Now it was a dark figure she saw, cackling and dancing amongst blue flames. And then, as it burnt away before her eyes, it revealed a scene of total destruction. A city in flames, people diseased and dying, impaled and agonized, wounded and broken. The devastation was massive and it made her want to weep like a scared child. And, just as she thought about those terrible visions, a precious few droplets emerged from her eyes and streamed down her cheeks. She wiped them with her right hand, while still holding her thin, elegant cigar, smoky plume emerging from the tip.

She then took the opportunity to put it to her lips and take a long drag of it. The smoke filled her lungs and passed down her throat, then back out through her nostrils and mouth as she exhaled. She removed the cigar, holding it between two fingers and returned that arm to its resting position with the left, crossed just under her chest. She still felt the strange tingle on her lips left by the tobacco. She licked them idly, almost mechanically, as if that would take the sensation away, but it only passed to her tongue and she swallowed hard as she studied the ripple on the lake and the strange patterns the moonlight made on its surface.

“I know you’re there. Don’t lurk about.” Her voice was low but echoed through the large office and reached the ears of her so-called “trump card” as she had sensed his arrival. She could hear the faint movements he made to make his presence known to her, though he often liked to pretend he was spying without her knowledge. His figure emerged from the shadows as if uncloaking and, though she did not turn, she heard his steps on the marble floor come closer to her mahogany desk. He stopped not too far from it, giving her plenty of space, as she was several paces away and at the window.

He bowed deeply and spoke, crimson eyes touching upon the floor briefly before returning to gaze at her back. “Forgive me, Master. I did not want to disturb you while you…” He paused and tried to pick the right word, “reflected.”

She huffed, almost laughed in a cynical kind of way. “Please, disturb me. I don’t care to reflect on these thoughts anymore.” As if she really had the choice, she almost dreaded going to sleep. The puffiness under her eyes betrayed the lack of sleep. However, she slept to face them, to assure herself of her own bravery, and to see where it would all lead.

“I can take them all away,” he whispered as he straightened and moved, like a cat, to stand just behind her so that she felt him as if he were an electrical current in human form, sending sparks down her spine. She suppressed a shiver.

“Stop it,” she replied with force in her voice, though it was that same soft tone they had been using. “I don’t care for your brand of therapy, Alucard. Simple dreams will not lead me to make such a rash and ludicrous decision.”

“But they are not simple dreams, are they?” His blood colored oculars had never ceased their penetrating gaze of her form. No view, however breathtaking, could replace his fascination with his Master. In any case, he’d seen all there was to see, he figured, and he could now see that Integra was suffering. Pain, fear, despair… the legions of evil feed upon such emotions. The cursed know suffering as no other being, and so they can smell it in the air, they can taste it on the wind. No one knows better of pain and loss and hurt than this centuries old being who has known the loss of all he would hold dear, his sanity to boot, and beheld death running from his very fingertips and trickling on the ground at his feet.

And so he spoke the truth and Integra winced as if the words were pinpricks. “I can deal with them, they are of no consequence,” she lied.

“I know what my presence does to you, as of late,” and he sneered as he could not help but recall that stolen kiss and her passion for him. “But,” he went on,” if you could find it in your grace to confide in me, Integra, I could provide you with an expert opinion. I no longer dream, but I happen to know they carry with them great power… messages, at times.” Rare was the occasion when Alucard delved too much into conversational subjects, but he genuinely wanted to help her, to somehow interpret what she might reveal to him and ease her mind.

“If my dreaming carries a message then…” and she paused considering all the awful revelations that her newfound visions could possess. However, she swallowed and continued in a lower tone. “I truly worry for our future, if we are to have one.”

“That bad, are they?”

“And much worse.”

To be continued...