Last night I had a series of dreams that revolved around disease. The first dream was the most distinct. A maiden, like Rapunzel, waited in a tower for her knight to return to her. She waited for him for many years of her life. When he came to her, she was consumed with bittersweet joy. He was now hers, but his mind was eaten with a sickness that did not allow them to communicate. He could not understand her, nor could she understand him. It was as though he was a madman. Their time together would be very short before his life ended. She took him to bed and cared for him, consumed with sorrow that they would never truly be together. The second dream was about my grandfather. The others were more vague. The last dream contained pieces of all of the other dreams, and named the sickness that tied them all together. I woke feeling that I understood everything perfectly, but when I thought about it for a moment, I understood nothing, but the dreams filled me with deep sorrow.
Tonight is the night of the vampire.