Tonight I dreamed of vampires, boarding schools and rebellion, so I wrote this little piece (a bit sloppy because it’s late and I’m sleepy). Hope you like it.
Tonight was the night. They would try to rise, and if they failed at least they would finally fall. She stopped for a moment, peeking out through the crack in the door. The stairway was empty, the lights off. The moonlight that came in through the window reflected against the carpeting, against the painted wood paneling and the handrails, bathing everything in a vague green light. She slipped out, carefully closing the door behind her, and tiptoed across the landing, down the stairs and up to the door at its base. Fingertips against the wood, she gave a gentle push. Thank goodness for old houses. All the little noises are so frequent that the tiny creek of the door caught no one’s attention. Her heart raced she looked around the living quarters. She heard the sound of the TV in the distance, emanating from the master bedroom. So someone was there after all, probably the professor himself or maybe his wife. She had hoped they both be at the faculty club with the other staff, enjoying the night’s festivities. Still, Charlie had warned her that his father might be home. She inched further into the room, trying to force her breaths to slow but it was difficult, all the muscles in her body tense from her dangerous trek from her dormitory up in the attic, all the way across the school and down here. She stayed in the shadows of the far side of the room, slowly moving closer. Finally he came into view in the doorway, a figure slouched on the sofa. The light from the TV danced across his face, the stern jawline relaxed in sleep, mouth slightly open and fangs clearly visible even from the distance. His feet were up on the coffee table. It sounded like some kind of action movie. Well, there would be action soon enough. Three steps would be all she need to get past the doorway and back out of sight. A deep breath, and she darted towards the smaller bedroom on the far end of the flat.She found the stash easily, hidden under a false bottom in the closet just like Charlie had said. The liquid inside the bottles was sluggish, disgusting. She loaded them into the canvas bag, and then it was back out the door, past the sleeping tyrant. Now she just had to make it back up to the dormitory, and then it was time. Tonight was the night.
I might turn it into something longer, later. There was more in the dream.