The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

It Was Only A Dream…..




I walked the streets at midday. The city was grey, all grey. All the time. Nothing seemed easy to differentiate here as even the sky itself was grey, threatening to open with a bang and the faint subtlety of rain imposed itself upon my consciousness. I will not melt. Am I the wicked witch of the West? No. Witch, maybe wizard. Still old beyond my years. Youthful vigour silently disguised ancient thoughts and wonderings. How old? As old as the hills are young.
Witchcraft and wizardry were my only companions that remained no matter the circumstance. Long had I felt the tang and smelled the sweat of loneliness yet still I remained and slowly, steadily my abilities grew in strength and in number. Witchcraft had always come naturally to me. In my life it was a subtle manipulation of energies surrounding a focal point such as a herbal tincture or other concoction, crystals, rocks, plants, water, fire, earth, air. The energy always seemed to be a part of my essential nature, as in my spirit itself. There had always just been a knowing within me of what to do to achieve what I wanted in the moment. It was only through later reading that I learned the rules to responsible magick and that opened my eyes to what a true craft and art form it is.
Wizardry was like that too, only wizardry in it’s true sense is the conjuration of demons in order to subjugate them for personal use. Subjugation, ha, ha! That word makes it sound so easy. Easy it is not and I have wrestled with some powerful entities that have brought nothing but ruin to my short and painfilled life on many occasions. In the end though, I have usually overcome although on a number of occasions I have had to employ the crafty ways of a white witch or Lightworker to dispel the entity in question. Such has been my thirst for knowledge that any and all forms of magickal expression have entertained my thoughts, my dreaming and my waking moments.
My faery lineage and Tree family roots run deeply through my soul and fill my dreaming awake life with wonder and magicks. I am of the Oak tree family and my clan traces it’s ancestry through the High Kings of Ireland back to Adam himself. There is also the feminine connection through King Hakkon the First, Hakkon the Good of Norway. That lineage begins in the mists of ancient Sweden and individuals that today are regarded as gods. Namely with Freyr and his father before him. Freyr was given Elf home ( Elfheim ) as a present when he was born, which is part of the forests of modern Sweden, while the first Celtic High King of Ireland intermarried with the Sidhe he defeated.
Faery, witch, wizard…. All past experiences really. Past lives intruding on present day realities.
But now I walked. Cold wind blows softly through my long dark blonde hair and my blue eyes see nothing but expressionless grey concrete and the blackened arteries of this once graceful city. It is a dirty place. Decades of smog saturate the air I breathe and paint the walls of every building with a black grime that is virtually invisible except to the touch of a wandering finger or palm of a hand. So bland. So tasteless. So devoid of joy or excitement. It is easily the most depressive place I have had the displeasure of inhabiting in my dreams. I hold on to the fact that I will only be here for as long as my eyes are closed to the so called reality of my waking self. The dreamlands are so much more satisfying.
Walking, the wind suddenly picks up and the rain begins to fall. My hair quickly absorbs the water spattering upon my head, but my face lets it roll slowly off. Magnetic the water is. It sticks to things so easily, grips with it’s cold embrace. I look around for some shelter, anywhere to get out of the cold. I glance to my right and see a staircase leading downwards toward a door. Above the door are what I can only describe as words and yet they are written in glyphs that I have seen before in other dreamings, lightly glowing neon violet. I recognise the shapes and a knowing fills my mind. It is Dragon script. Noble script of a long dead language, at least dead to the world. Not the underworld though. Thoughts of past dreams ripple through my mind, myself as a vampire hunter, deciphering such glyphs and in a moment I realise “This is a vampire club here.”
I consider my options and quickly assess the situation. Once a hunter always a hunter and yet I was weaponless here. Tired also. Tired of fighting people that simply lived a different lifestyle to my waking reality. Sick from the amounts of blood shed with my sword, dagger and spear. Speechless, I descended the stairs and stepped through the threshold.

Music was softly thumping in the main bar. A few eyes were quickly drawn towards me and I smiled innocently in their direction. I had no intention of fighting, I simply wanted to know. What were they really like, what were they really about? I bought a couple of drinks at the bar. Red wine and a scotch whiskey. Nervously, with slightly trembling hands, I swallowed the whisky neatly then asked for another. “Hard day?” asked the barman. His eyes gleamed in the twilight atmosphere. I pulled a packet of Camels from my coat pocket and slowly, deliberately lit one. Drawing back upon the nicotine rich flavour of the smoke I exhaled and replied “Something like that.”
He smiled without humour. “Why are you here? You’re not like the rest of us?” “I’m curious.” I replied, taking another deep drag, “What’s to do in here?” “Anything.” He replied, “Depends on your hearts desire.” I drank my whiskey quietly asking no further questions, picked up my glass of wine and walked further into the half-lit rooms. I felt hypnotised by the music and also exhilarated at the feeling of being somewhere forbidden. Walking slowly and deliberately past some tables, I was greeted with stares, grins and sharp teeth.
I found the dancefloor and began swaying to the music. I felt exhilarated and drugged with a desire to explore a new perspective. I danced and soon others began dancing with me, the energy between us slowly building. Dazed yet not confused, I walked towards a table where a group of people were laughing and joking, drinking in elated spirit. Quite suddenly I climbed onto the table and began dancing. At first they seemed quite annoyed at me but something in their eyes suggested that they were as hypnotised by me as I was by them. I danced for a while, slowly slipping down upon my knees moving in a suggestive manner. I swallowed the last of my wine and lay down on the table, thinking “I want this. I am yours now. Take me or leave me.”
The last thing I saw was everyone at the table biting my exposed flesh, exposing my body and drinking deeply upon my blood and slowly I faded out. Waking to the ‘real world’, knowing everything had changed. My psyche, my soul, once human, now something else.