Strange Dream

Posted: June 2003
Title: A Strange Dream
Type: RPS
Author: Estella Greenleaf
Characters: KU/OB (yes, that surprised me too)
Rating: R (NC-17 overtones)
Warning: AU
Disclaimer: None of this is true. Please don't sue.

Author's note: Okay, I am officially worried. This is actually my dream from last night, with a few minor alterations. Definitely afraid I am getting a tad too obsessed. Maybe I should take a break. To have an actual dream about these people is bad, but a Karl one, that's just wrong. I mean I was writing Vampires Part Deux before I sleep, but still, this is too much =P Thought I will share my strange, twisted dream with the readers, hehe. Besides, it is good practice for a different writing style, (since it's dream based), let me know what you think.

*****

Darkness fell. A mist covered the lands, making the roads dangerous in the moonless night. By the headlights of the car, a silhouette of the mansion was visible. At last, after five hours on the road, Orlando had arrived.

The youth knocked on the door...no answer. But this could not be - he was summoned here by the owner of the keep; he should be expected. A loud thud within the mansion, the creaking of a door too long neglected, a forbidding entrance beckoning the dark- haired beauty forward. Gathering his courage, the young lawyer entered, calling out in greeting. But his voice was answered only by unnerving silence. The ghosts of the past stirred, wary of the intruder; the air cooled, a sudden chill that made Orlando's skin crawled. No, he would not be afraid. Rumors were but rumors, whispers of the wind without a grain of truth. This rich, reclusive client was his claim to fortune; he would not back away now.

Flickering candles...a skeletal old man came into view. Orlando was fed and shown to his room, yet all the while, the oppressive stillness remained; not even the wolves howled as they roamed the surrounding moor, stamping their instincts for fear of waking the dead. Whatever secret wisdom the caretaker possessed, he did not share. In the end, the young lawyer was left in the dark, alone in the eerie silence.

Midnight...fatigue took its toll; Orlando unwillingly succumbed to the lure of sleep. He would talk to the master of the manor tomorrow. Darkness, oblivion, then this wonderful dream. The warmth of a hand under his nightshirt, feather-light touches, full of promises of what was to come. A hard muscular body, cocooning his smaller frame, cool silken skin against his own heated flesh.

The youth sighed softly, a willing victim of his fantasy lover's gentle assault. Hands, so soft and smooth, explored his olive skin, worshiped his lithe form with tender caresses. Slender fingers wrapped tight around his arousal, bringing Orlando closer to the brink of completion with each stroke. With a soft cry, the young man surrendered to the pleasure of this perfect fantasy.

A soft kiss, whispered words of love, his handsome lover with chestnut hair and amber eyes...images from his fantasy... memories etched forever into Orlando's mind. The young lawyer awoke, saddened, mourning his lost dream.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The caretaker came, the master had returned. A meeting was called; but Orlando's mind kept drifting. Over his client's massive desk was a painting, a portrait of his dream lover, resembling a perfect gentleman from the Victorian era. The lawyer could feel the weight of those amber eyes upon him, a presence trying to reach out, to feel his warmth one more time.

Curiosity got the better of him. He had to ask. Karl...that was the name of his fantasy lover. The lord of the mansion would not say more. A strange gleam shone in his client's midnight eyes, sending shivers down Orlando's spine. As quickly as it appeared, the light dimmed, perhaps an illusion created by his nerves and imagination.

Business concluded. Dusk approached. An inexplicable urge rushed through Orlando - he must leave before it was too late. The lawyer stood, said his goodbyes and extended his hand for a final handshake. The raven-haired man did not move. The urgency of the warning grew stronger, concern emanated from the portrait in waves. The youth was torn between bolting and waiting for his client's reaction.

Then it happened. The master of the mansion smiled, welcoming him as a permanent guest to his keep. Pain, such as Orlando had never felt before, shot through his body. He felt compressed, drawn towards the dark void that emanated from his client's right hand. A mighty gale erupted; the sorcerer's previous victims gathered to fight their oppressor, trying to free the young man from the evil one's hold; but the black magic was too strong. Now, Orlando knew the legends were true. Soon, he too would become part of the monster's collection, trapped forever in a piece of art.

But Orlando was not one to resign to his fate. He survived the streets as an orphan; he worked his way through law school when none believed he could; he would find a way. A pocket knife, a memento he carried always from his childhood in the slums, now his only hope. Surrendering to the pull of the spell, the young man closed the distance between himself and the sorcerer. Before the void engulfed him, Orlando stabbed the evil one's casting hand. Uncontrolled power, raw and pulsating, spilled from the wound. A disbelieving scream, an explosion of black light, and the sorcerer was no more.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A gentle brush on the cheek, a warm hand upon his forehead...Orlando's eyes flickered open. The bright light of the morning illuminated his bed, signaling the beginning of a new day. He was in the chamber given to him by the caretaker, in the nightshirt he wore the first night of his arrival. Perhaps, everything was just a strange dream, including Karl, who had touched him in a way no one ever had. Then, a movement caught his attention; his lips curved into a smile as his gaze fell upon the figure bringing him breakfast in bed - the sight of his fantasy lover against the golden rays of the sun.

*****

THE END

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Estella Greenleaf