A Strange Awakening

Charlotte experienced a most peculiar dream. In it, her father, Mr. Anderson, had passed away, and she found herself abducted by a striking vampire. She lay sleeping in a lit room when he, Mr. Anderson, entered, rousing her from sleep.

Seated by her bedside, he expressed remorse for his previous ill-treatment, though Charlotte sensed a hidden mockery in his words.

"Why did you do it?" Even within her dream, her emotions felt vivid, and she watched her heart shatter at his sly smirk. "How could you be so cruel, Father?"

Mr. Anderson's aged face contorted into an almost beautiful smile amidst Charlotte's anguish. "The cameras are rolling, dear, smile." Disregarding her, he stood, straightened his disheveled designer suit, and headed for the door.

With his hand on the doorknob, he turned back to face his tormented daughter. Raising his other hand, he gestured for her to draw nearer, although Charlotte was reluctant. He blinked.

Being an obedient daughter, Charlotte traced his footsteps and positioned herself beside him by the door. "Do you like what I've left for you?"

A stern expression crossed Mr. Anderson's face as he pointed behind her. Intrigued, Charlotte turned to see what he showed, only to lock eyes with the cunning vampire. She tried to avert her gaze, but he had compelled her once more. Irritation welled up within her, a sense of helplessness consuming her.

"Look at your father," the formidable vampire commanded. Charlotte obeyed, struggling to break free from his influence. As her eyes returned to her father, he opened the door.

Mr. Anderson had promised flashing cameras, yet when he exited without a backward glance, the room plunged into darkness. It grew so pitch black that she could no longer see the vampire.

Relief washed over her; the darkness had swallowed the vampire, meaning she had broken free from his mental grip. A frigid hand grazed her fingers, startling her from her dream.

When Charlotte opened her eyes, she found herself in a room bathed in the gentle morning light. The sight before her was surreal: white sheets cradled her, while the walls exuded an ethereal pristine whiteness. A French-style glass window framed a cityscape view, in stark contrast to the strange room she now inhabited.

Confusion filled her as she noticed they dressed her in fitted pajamas, sending unease rippling through her. How had she come to be in this attire? Her mind raced, and she covered herself, feeling an inexplicable presence nearby.

Now awake, the memory of her father's passing and her encounter with the vampire flooded back. She remembered realizing the vampire's true nature, and then everything blurred.

With her silver hair cascading around her shoulders, Charlotte decided it was time to confront the enigmatic vampire. Gathering her resolve, she cautiously left the room and descended a grand staircase to the ground floor. Each step creaked , the sound echoing through the vast space.

The ground floor was astonishing, with white marble floors reflecting the soft morning light, ebony stair rails creating a striking contrast, and expansive corridors that seemed to stretch into infinity, all bathed in an unseen luminescence.

But Charlotte's astonishment was far from over. As she turned a corner, a familiar face met her gaze. Lizzy, her devoted assistant, sat on a plush couch in a finely appointed dining area, enjoying breakfast in quiet solitude.

Charlotte's steps faltered momentarily before she hurried toward Lizzy. She had countless questions, and Lizzy was the only person she could turn to. When she called out to her, Lizzy's eyes widened with surprise.

"Charli!" Lizzy exclaimed, almost dropping her plate in her haste to greet her.

Charlotte's anxiety escalated as she approached Lizzy. "Lizzy, where is he? The vampire? I need to find him."

Lizzy's expression shifted from surprise to genuine concern. "Vampire? Charli, I haven't seen anyone else here."

Frustration and confusion swelled within Charlotte. "But Lizzy, I saw him. He brought me here."

Lizzy appeared bewildered by Charlotte's insistence. "I promise, Charli. I didn't see anyone like that. You asked me to come here, remember?"

Charlotte's agitation grew. "I asked you to come here? Why would I do that?"

Lizzy hesitated, carefully choosing her words. "You were distraught after your father's funeral, Charli. I tried to shield you from the rain, then you told me to go to the company to bring laptops and…

You said you needed to be somewhere safe, away from everything. You texted me the location and insisted on my presence here this morning."

"When are we?" Lizzy could see that Charlotte was breaking down, and it concerned her deeply. She knew her father's death would affect her, but this was spiraling into a worrisome state.

She recalled their college professor, Mr. Goode, who had similarly unraveled before being declared insane. Lizzy hoped that Charlotte was simply mourning in her way, rather than succumbing to conspiracy theories, as she followed Charlotte around the mansion in search of the elusive vampire.

Charlotte's mind whirled with conflicting emotions—agitation, confusion, anger, and a profound sense of betrayal. She couldn't fathom why she would willingly come to this place, especially after her encounter with the vampire.

Determined to find answers, she stormed through the rooms, searching for any sign of the mysterious vampire.

Lizzy followed her, concern etched on her face. She whispered, "Charli, are you sure you saw him? Maybe it was just a dream, because of…"

But Charlotte's determination knew no bounds. She knew what she had seen, and she was resolute in uncovering the truth, regardless of how unsettling it might be. As she scoured the empty rooms, an inexplicable and sinister feeling gnawed at her.

"Not now, Lizzy! Not now."

Since Mr. Anderson's passing, reporters had swarmed her residence, the college where she taught, her company, and even the places she frequented. They were relentless in their pursuit, their news outlets eager to pay a premium for a glimpse into the life of the billionaire's daughter.

"Why does this place resemble your house?" Lizzy astutely observed the uncanny similarities between Charlotte's home and this mansion. Charlotte slumped onto the bed, her head buried in her hands, her disheveled hair obscuring her face.

Lizzy stood amidst the pristine white bedroom, her gaze shifting between Charlotte, her employer, and dear friend, and the room itself. Charlotte sat on the edge of the bed, her head hidden in trembling hands. Her sobs echoed through the spacious chamber, yet Lizzy's presence seemed to go unnoticed.

"Charli," Lizzy began tentatively, her voice gentle as she approached the distressed Charlotte. "It looks just like yours."

Charlotte's sobs continued, and she did not respond to Lizzy's observation. Her anguish seemed all-encompassing, as if the world beyond this room had ceased to exist.

With a sigh, Lizzy resolved to delve deeper into the mystery. She sensed that something was awry, that the mansion held secrets Charlotte had yet to unveil. She turned her attention away from Charlotte and began to inspect the room.

The walk-in closet was a treasure trove of designer clothes, all tailored to Charlotte's size. Dresses, suits, and casual wear filled the racks, while drawers housed tiny expensive accessories. Shoes of every color and style adorned the closet's shelves, each pair seemingly picked to match Charlotte's every whim. The specifics only she, Lizzy, and Charlotte knew.

Who bought them? The vampire himself, or compelled Lizzy?

As Lizzy explored further, her curiosity grew. She couldn't help but notice the array of cosmetic supplies neatly organized on the vanity. It struck her as odd–these products were precisely to Charlotte's taste. She noticed an array of cosmetic supplies on the vanity, including luxurious shampoos, conditioners, and high-end lotions, which were neatly organized and seemed untouched..

Questions raced through Lizzy's mind. Why would Charlotte have a nearly identical room filled with her possessions in this unfamiliar mansion? How could everything be so perfectly tailored to her preferences?

Lizzy knew that Charlotte had insisted on her presence, claiming it was a request, but now she couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. If Charlotte didn't ask her here, then who?

A vampire?

Even thinking about its possible presence felt wrong to Lizzy, so she let Charlotte deal with it her way. She walked downstairs, admiring the mansion, then went on to respond to important emails and reschedule the day's appointments.

Two hours of tireless work had finally compelled Lizzy to leave the comfort of her office chair and venture into the mansion's kitchen. Her footsteps echoed through the space, a stark contrast to the chaos that had recently disrupted her life.

As she entered the kitchen, the immaculate white surfaces and spotless drawers greeted her. It was a kitchen that hadn't seen much use lately if ever used; she thought. Lizzy's curiosity led her to open the fridge, expecting a variety of food options.

To her astonishment, the refrigerator's interior was a testament to someone else entirely. It was filled with tastes and preferences that belonged solely to Charlotte. What perplexed Lizzy even more was the untouched nature of everything inside. Not a single item had been opened or used.

A shiver coursed through her as she grappled with the implications of what Charlotte had been saying. The mansion had been her refuge, her sanctuary, a place she had felt safe since she came in, until this moment.

There was no tangible proof of a vampire or another resident living in the mansion. It felt like Charlotte's wild imagination running amok.

In a moment of desperation, Lizzy abandoned all reason and dove headfirst into the trash bin. Her hands rummaged through discarded items, desperately searching for any evidence of someone else's presence in the house. But her efforts seemed fruitless; there was nothing.

Just as she was about to give up, her fingers brushed against something unexpected–a crumpled piece of paper. Pulling it out, her eyes widened as she examined the contents. It was a receipt for almost every item she had seen in the fridge. The evidence was undeniable.

Lizzy needed to confront the reality of the situation. With trembling hands, she grabbed a Red Bull from the fridge and drank it straight from the bottle, not bothering to find a glass. She closed the fridge door with a bang.

Her heart raced with a mix of fear and desperation, feeling like she was going to die. Charlotte had been right all along; there was something else in the mansion, something unexplainable.

With newfound resolve, Lizzy sprinted through the house, screaming Charlotte's name. She headed directly to the room where Charlotte had been, shouting, "Charli! Charli!" When their eyes locked in a moment of sheer terror, Lizzy couldn't hold back any longer and screamed, "He's here! The… The vampire!"

" I know ", Charlotte sounded certain.

Lizzy's body was shaking vigorously, "We should leave right now right? I'm too young to die… please. There's so… "

Charlotte's phone, on the nightstand, chimes. Charlotte grabbed it calmly, looking at the shaken Lizzy. A new message, from an unknown number.

'Ask your Assistant to run errands for you. It's not safe out here.

Liam '