They gathered outside of the doors of the old church, a unit of soldiers twenty men strong divided up into smaller teams of four who fought back to back and side by side. Hamish was in a pair with Simon, who led their team, and Tris and Roope were their second pair.

Each team leader gave a nod to the Captain, confirming their men were ready. They couldn’t afford to wait long. The vampires inside would already know they were there.

Their Captain gave a count of three on his fingers and two men rammed their shoulders into the doors, forcing them open. They charged into the room.

The vampires were stronger, faster, more bloodthirsty and vicious, but the swords, armour, and sheer numbers of the soldiers evened the playing field. It was the teamwork of the soldiers that tipped the battle in their favour, though. The vampires fought wildly, with little regard for one another, but the humans, in their little teams of four, were unbreakable. No man fought alone. 

The last of the five vampires fell to Simon’s sword, but he made no fuss. He gave it an extra stab through its eye to make absolutely sure it was dead and sent their Captain a nod of confirmation.

Hamish sat down and watched as injuries were catalogued and the bodies of the vampires were double and triple checked. Nobody but him seemed to notice when somebody who was not one of their men walked through the doors. A teenager with dark skin and voluminous black hair in a bright red hooded sweatshirt.

Kit. Hamish shot a worried look towards his Captain. The man was good at what he did, but he’d always been disdainful towards mages. Surely he wouldn’t be any more impressed by Kit.

But things were different now. Things with the humans had… huh. 

None of this made any sense.

Kit shot the mutilated corpse of a vampire a look of disgust on his way over to Hamish. “Yes, this is a dream.”

“Oh,” Hamish said. “This wasn’t really a nightmare, if you were worried.”

“I wasn’t. We need to talk.”

“About…?”

“We should get the others first. Come one.”

“Uh, okay.”

Hamish followed Kit out of the church and down a set of dark, narrow stairs that hadn’t been there before. Three figures walked down the stairs ahead of them. Two of them wore robes, though only one appeared to be a mage with his long, golden hair. The third man had his hand resting on the back of the mage’s neck as they made their way down the stairs.

As Hamish got closer, he realised the mage was Duran. Hamish still had his sword in his hand. Well, if this was a dream…

Hamish grabbed the man who had his hand on Duran by the back of his hair, swept his sword around, and slit the man’s throat.

Duran slammed his back against the wall, staring up at Hamish in alarm, but his fear slowly melted away and as it did the length of his hair receded.

Hamish looked the man in robes up and down. He had auburn hair. Hamish recognised him from the memory Duran had shared with everyone through Kit.

Hamish offered Duran his sword. “This is a dream. You can do whatever you want.”

Duran ignored the sword. “Then can I just…” He stared at the auburn haired man for a few seconds until he abruptly vanished. Duran nodded his satisfaction. “There. Not my problem anymore.”

“You’re more forgiving than I would be.”

“It has nothing to do with forgiveness.” He turned his attention to Kit. “Is this real? Not this, obviously, but the two of you?”

“It’s a shared dream, yes,” Kit said. “We need to get Slone. Come on.”

The stairs had appeared to lead only to darkness, but as they continued down them, light blossomed forth. When they reached the bottom, they found themselves outside in an open, sunny field.

Slone dashed around in wolf form, scattering birds that always seemed to conveniently settle in time for him to send them flapping away again on his next loop around.

Hamish shook his head. “I want to be Slone when I grow up. Head full of sunshine and chasing birds. Beautiful.”

Kit whistled and Slone altered his path to sprint over to them. 

Slone didn’t shift, he just abruptly was in human form as soon as he reached them. “Oh, hey!”

“This is a dream,” Kit told him. “I’ve brought you all here because something is very wrong.”

“Ah, well, shit,” Slone said.

“Follow me,” Kit said as they turned and led the way towards a large tree. They looped around it and found a door painted a dark purple on the other side. Kit opened it and they stepped inside.

They were inside a bedroom with a pre-war aesthetic. Everything about it looked new and mass produced, made in a time when material goods were plentiful and easily replaced. A black panther lay on the bed. Izzy.

“So, what is this about?” Hamish asked as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

Duran sat down near Izzy, eying her like he wanted to make contact but wasn’t sure how. He offered her his hand and she lowered her head to accept a pat.

Kit pulled out a wheeled chair, spun it around, and sat down. “We fell asleep. All of us. This is bad because we,” they gestured between themself and Izzy, “don’t sleep. It’s bad because we can’t wake up.”

“You reckon we’re trapped?” Slone asked as he picked up one of the knick knacks on the shelf and examined it.

“For now.”

“Could we try to make ourselves wake up somehow?” Duran asked. “Maybe something scary?”

“Or, hear me out,” Hamish said. “If we can make anything happen here, how about my wildest fantasies? Wet dreams never fail to wake me up.”

“You know what I don’t understand?” Kit asked. “Why is having your wildest sexual fantasies fulfilled even a thing people care about? The goal is still just to nut, and if you could do that with your own hand and a bit of imagination, how is it any better? If anything it just makes you get there quicker. I respect the efficiency, but I don’t think finishing fast is usually seen as a good thing.”

“Well, see, not every orgasm is equal,” Hamish said. “Sometimes you—”

“No, please, that was an incredibly rhetorical question,” Kit said. “Anyway, we’re not doing that. You really want to wake up to whatever the fuck’s going on here with sticky pants?”

Hamish sighed. “No, I guess not.”

“I’m genuinely not sure if there’s anything we can do,” Kit said. “Doing something like waking someone up is usually trivial for us, but it’s just… not working. We can still get into your heads. We can control your dreams. It’s like waking up just isn’t a function your brains can perform right now.”

“So those tall things might be snacking on our toes right now and we’d be completely helpless to do anything about it?”

“Pretty much,” Kit said. “This is not good.”

Slone had opened up a book and was turning it this way and that in his hands. “The words are funny. I can’t read them.”

“Sorry I didn’t memorise an entire novel for you over a hundred years ago so that I could perfectly recreate it in my bedroom,” Kit said. 

“Ah, yeah, that makes sense.” Slone put the book back. “Pity, though. I like reading. Not so much good at any other school stuff, but reading wasn’t really a school thing for me anyway.”

“I remember you reading a lot when you were with us in the military,” Hamish said.

“Yeah.” Slone picked up another book and examined the cover. “Got into it ‘cause of Yore, really. He liked books, so I got him books, but then I figured maybe I’d give reading one a shot so we could talk about it. Kinda became a thing, y’know? Something we could share even though we didn’t have much time together.”

“I like books, too,” Duran said. “They’re the only kind of adventure you can have when you’re locked in a room.”

Slone shot Kit a smile. “Sorry. Gettin’ distracted. You have cool stuff.”

Kit waved a dismissive hand. “I don’t need your focus when there’s nothing any of us can do. Maybe I should have just let you all keep dreaming.”

“I’m fine with the interruption,” Duran murmured.

“Do you have a lot of dreams like that?” Hamish asked.

Duran lay back on the bed. “Who knows? It hasn’t been that long since that was my life. I don’t know what’s normal for me now. Maybe having my toes eaten in my sleep, as it turns out.”

Hamish lay down next to Duran, his body pressed against his side. “Sorry. This is my fault. We took the risk because of me.”

“You know being close to me in a dream doesn’t give me any energy, right?”

Hamish smiled. “Ah, you’ve discovered my secret. I’m actually just a cuddly guy.”

“It’s not your fault, Hamish,” Slone said. “Prob’ly mine, if anything. I’m the one who’s been coming out here for years. Shoulda known better.”

“If we want to play that game, I’ve been out here for over a hundred years,” Kit said. “But it’s pointless. Debating about who’s to blame doesn’t make anyone feel any better.”

“True,” Hamish said. “Thanks for bringing us here, Kit. Whatever happens, I’m glad I’m with friends.”