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Layla’s Dream Log

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I have had many disturbing dreams since I started spending time in the Brotherhood mansion. I thought it was because I have not had the company of my sisters, so I went to the Primale’s camp in the mountains. This, if anything, has increased my nightmares. The Primale brought Mary, the human shellren of the Brother Rhage, to speak to me. She suggested I write my dreams down. “Perhaps,” she said, “the log will give you space to look at the dreams objectively.”

The Werewolf Dream

There are many things to distract me at the Primale’s camp. I have taken to reading books called paranormal romance. At first, I enjoyed reading the human idea of vampires and found great amusement in pointing out the ridiculous concepts in these books to those around me. Then I read a book about werewolves, and this is where, perhaps, the dream takes root.

In the dream, I am a human married to a werewolf. As the saying goes, when you marry a werewolf, you marry the pack. Can you imagine being married to not only the male but also his entire pack? They are now my family. I am greatly in love with my male and we spend much of our days in bed. I particularly enjoy this part of the dream. The male touches me and I feel a joy incomparable to any. I become pregnant quickly and the males of the pack are happy for me. The pack is run by a very unhappy matriarch who does not like that her son married a human. She looks down on me. While we are all gathered in front of a fire she exclaims, “Can you imagine having but one baby? No litters. Just one mewling child. How disgustingly slow for you.” Her face is filled with contempt. The other females agree that I am a sad example of the future of the pack should the men continue to choose women instead of bitches. I direct my comments to the males,”Can you imagine only coming into heat once a year? I come into heat once a month. I can become pregnant every time. How sad for you.” I direct the last comment toward the females sitting around the fire. The males howl for they know my ‘wolf’ enjoys my fertility and has taken every advantage of my monthly cresting desires. I am lusty and wanted greatly by the males in the pack. Unlike that dry bag of bones they follow.

I awake feeling very sorry for the female werewolves. How wonderful that I am able to become pregnant every month. For a few moments, I forget that I am a vampire. I forget who I really am. I forget how often my kind are fertile and, sadly, what often happens during delivery. Once I remember, I spend the rest of the day depressed.

 

The Human Dream

I dream I am a human boy child. I run in the cities. I grab fire escape ladders attached to buildings and pull myself up the walls to the rooftops. I jump and find joy in the movement. I feel like I’m on fire. I hear the words “that’s why we banned you from here. You’re a troublemaker.” echo around me. I find joy in making trouble. Not “bad” trouble but I stir the coals. Make things warmer. At home, I find a hidden path between my mother’s closet and one of the hall closets. Sure, I’m behind clothing but I can see out and the entire path shows me what people are doing on the other side of the wall. How fun to gather information, be sneaky, and know what I'm not supposed to know.

Time jumps. I’m a teenager and I have a friend. He has dark skin and eyes that laugh. His name is Kai. We go everywhere together. He says I am fun. He reminds me of water. I joke that if we spend too much time together, I’ll make him boil over. He is there when I discover my parents fighting about taking me to a restaurant. They never take me anywhere. Mother looks like an actress in a movie I watched with my sisters, blonde and perfect.

Jump. My parents walk me into a restaurant unlike any I’ve ever seen. It looks normal on the outside but on the inside it is a wide open space with steel beams and stairs everywhere connecting everything. The walls are made of glass, as is the ceiling. I can see everyone and everything and it looks like there are no walls. Maybe their aren’t any walls separating the tables on the different levels. Maybe it's all just beams with glass platforms. I'm in such shock, not once do I think of looking up a woman's dress as she walks overhead. We walk in and go up a set of stairs. That is when I notice the huge “plant” in the middle of the room is not a plant but a monster with many tentacles. My Mother calls it Medusa and strokes one of the arms lovingly. She says to the people at the various tables, “How cruel! You have not been feeding it!” Then she grabs a hypodermic needle full of blood and plunges it into the monster. Suddenly, it’s moving. The other people quietly get up from their tables to leave instead of running in horror. “This is why we banned you from here, Fire. You’re a troublemaker.” My parents look pleased, self satisfied even as we leave. I meet a girl as we walk out who looks half Irish, half Japanese. She has long curly red hair and beautiful eyes. She says her name is Amy Fujiwara. She reminds me of air. I am enraptured by her.

Jump. I’m in a room with Amy, Kai, and other teens. Kai’s here? He’s been watching me the whole time that I did not know about the Society? I thought we were friends. Wait. Society? Oh yes, now I remember. I am part of the Society, as are my parents and the parents of the others around me. One of them is saying something mean to me but I don't hear the words. I can only see the look of contempt on his face. “Be nice to him,” Amy says, “He’s only found out what he is.” What am I? The secret society. The one where the whole object of existence is the manipulation of information but to look like normals to the outsiders. We are boring normal people. There is no reason to think we would do anything like research every last bit of information about you or understand how to create plant monsters.

I kiss Amy and suddenly I am alone with her. My hands do something I’ve wanted to do ever since I saw a female naked. As I stand in front of her, I touch her bottom softly, lifting up her skirt to find she does not wear underclothing. I run my hands along the sides and cup the cheeks before moving farther down, my hands coming together at the insides of her thighs. It is warm and wet there. I have kissed my way down her body to get my hands where they are now. What an odd sensation. Amy lifts my face to kiss me and, as I stand, she unzips my jeans. Her hand goes down my front to stroke my arousal. Oh yes, I forgot that I am male and that very maleness grows harder. Suddenly I am entering her and she is warm and wet and beautiful on top of me.

When I awake from this dream, again I forget for a moment who I really am. Reality is that I am this boy and I want to be in a woman again. I want to feel that soft skin between her thighs and it isn’t until I’m at the door of my room that I remember. But the memories of the boy have not left me. I go out to the forest and run. I haven’t done that before but quite enjoy the sounds the autumn leaves make crunching beneath my feet. I jump and lift myself up on a branch. For a moment, I remember running in the streets as a boy. The freedom I felt running across rooftops.

Do the members of the Brotherhood run across rooftops? I wish I was as physically strong a female as Xhex so that I might run the rooftops with the Brothers too.

 

The Baby Dream

I’m breastfeeding a baby. What a sweet face this child has. So earnest. All it needs, it receives from me. I am the beginning and the end. I smile as I look down into the baby’s eyes and feel my fangs brush my lower lip. Ah good. I am myself in this dream. The baby pulls back from my nipple and smiles up at me in return. I see tiny fangs and am horrified. My people don’t have fangs as babies. We don’t grow fangs until after the transition into adulthood. I look down at my breast and yes, right where the baby’s mouth was sucking on my nipple, there are the smallest of marks on my areola. Feeding a family member is a great taboo. I pull away and...

my hands are around the throat of the Scribe Virgin. I have no control over my body or the shock I feel at trying to strangle my diety would have loosened my fingers. Her hands are, quite rightly, around my neck. I’m on top of Her and yet She does not struggle. She smiles at me. How dare She smile. How dare She when She has made us into a people who can reproduce with each only every ten years. No, She made the women have their needing only once every ten years. Our males can reproduce with human women whenever they like. My fingers tighten on Her throat. She did this to Her females. She made our infants die in the womb. She makes our females so sick we die giving birth. Why would She make a race of people who would slowly die off? She smirks with the knowledge that I won’t break the taboo of daring to ask Her a question.

I wake covered in sweat and shaking with fear, anger, and resentment.

My God, Mary is right about taking the time to write these thoughts down. Looking over the notes from these dreams, I am shocked that I did not see the connection. Of course, I want what other females want in our world. Love, protection, family. However, I never realized that my time away from the Scribe Virgin would lead me to question her so fully. I don’t know whom to confide in but I know that I can not return to the Other Side.