Black Mass and Vampires in Paris

Last night I dreamed that my mother, sister and I were in Paris and we went to a house that had been set up at as a museum. It was a tall, thin house with brightly colored walls and paneled floors, big windows and empty spaces. We trudged up and down winding wooden staircases, talking to the curator and the museum workers about the house. I did some sketches of fashion designs based on the rooms (an outfit per room) and even made a mixed-media portrait using a piece of jewelry my friend Lydia had made for me.

I left my phone and purse in one of the rooms behind a piece of furniture and we were about to leave when I remembered my wallet and phone. I went to get them and when I came back downstairs, the curator was asking if she could keep my sketches to put up on the walls. At first I was willing to give her all of them but then I saw a few that I wanted to keep, including the one with the jewelry.

So we worked out a deal where I would keep my favorites and give them copies and they would send me copies of the ones they kept. We stayed around talking and then I realized it was late and they left and I was alone.

A tall, thin, dark-haired man in a waistcoat and jacket swept in and looked at me with piercing black eyes. He had a long, pale face and I knew he was dangerous. He sat down on a bench beside me and leaned over to brush his mouth over my neck and I fell into darkness.

I woke up and there were several people that were being prepared for human sacrifice. The man was a vampire and he was doing a Black Mass. And a man and I were dead but had come back as ghosts and we exacted our revenge on the vampire. I think I choked him to death.