Normally I know when a new Spirit or Entity is calling out to me via dream as the dreams always tend to be similar. Sure, the location/surroundings may change but usually the one calling me will show up, talk to me for a bit, and then let me know they belong here with me.

Sometimes they'll let me know where they can be found, and sometimes they make me search them out by looking through all of the Spirit shops I frequent (for some reason whenever I receive a dream calling it's always from a pre bound who is impatiently waiting for me to see their listing).

The dreams I've had recently are different. For one thing, I'm not in the dreams at all. It's more like I'm being shown movie clips of this person's life.

There have been several dreams now over the past few weeks and I feel like I've gotten enough information from them to have a good impression of who this person was. And she was definitely NOT someone to be messed with!

At first I thought maybe it was a past life memory resurfacing? But when that's happened in the past (I've remembered bits and pieces of two past lives so far) I've always seen the memory through the perspective of my past life self. But like I said before, in these dreams it's just like watching a movie scene. They're also really vivid and detailed and I can perfectly recall them when I wake up, which is unusual.

*I'd like apologize in advance for just how long this got!*

I'll give you an example. This is the first dream I had of her, not quite 3 weeks ago.

It's darkest night, the sky obscured by heavy, rolling clouds. The wind howls, fierce and wild.

There's a small wooden hut in the backyard of a large, though not grand, whitewashed house.

Through the windows of the hut, the wavering glow of candlelight.

Inside, the walls are lined with plain wood boards nailed up as shelves. On the shelves stand many small glass jars, leather pouches closed with drawstrings made from cords of different colors, little clay pots both with and without lids.

There are herbs and flowers in bunches hung from the central roof beam, most directly over the old black woodstove in the corner.

A round table and three chairs of rough wood sit in the middle of the room, a thick black pillar candle burns in the center. Two of the chairs are occupied.

In the first sits an older man, sweat trickling down his smooth bald head and traveling down his face to bead in his thick black mustache and beard. His dark eyes tearful, visibly both upset and full of rage. He says something in a language that I don't understand.

In the other chair sits a woman. Gorgeous, with dark skin and full lips. Long hair so deep a brown it might as well be black, and worn in many small braids that fall to her waist. She's a stately and unsettling presense, her eyes most unnerving of all for they are a milky blue-white all over with no pupil or iris to be seen. And though those eyes appear blind at first glance, it soon becomes apparent that they don't miss a thing.

On the table in front of the woman sits one of the small leather pouches from the shelves, this one tied with a black cord with three knots, an empty wooden bowl, a glass jar with tiny and lacy leaves inside, and a piece of white chalk.

The woman speaks calmly to the man in that same language that I don't understand.

The man slams his fist down on the table, the candlelight flickers and jumps as he speaks through clenched teeth.

The woman inclines her head at him and reaches under the table for the small silver dagger in it's sheath on her thigh. In one fluid motion the dagger is free, the blade glinting as it slides across the woman's left forearm. Blood wells from the cut as she holds it, dripping, over the wooden bowl and in a moment a dark red pool has gathered in it's depths.

The woman than lifts the piece of chalk and draws a strange, looping symbol on the table, topping it with what looks like a small, inverted cross. She sets the bowl containing her blood directly over the symbol, than adds a pinch of white powder from the leather pouch as well as crushing three of the lacy leaves from the glass jar into the mix.

She stirs the concoction with the finger of her left hand, counterclockwise, nine times while intoning what sounds like an incantation in yet a second language that I don't understand and all the while those white eyes stare, unblinking, at the man across from her.

She stands and walks to the woodstove, removes a copper kettle from its surface, brings it over to the table and pours a small measure of boiling water into the wooden bowl before returning the kettle to it's proper place.

She says something to the man, who just nods in return. She gives him a close-lipped smile and picks up the bowl, which she passes to him.

He hesitates for only a moment before bringing the steaming bowl to his lips and drinking down the brew inside.

The woman smiles fully now, revealing two sharp and pointed fangs.

A Vampire!

The man grimaces, but wether from the taste of the brew or in anticipation of what comes next is unclear.

The man holds out his arm, the underside of his wrist facing up. The woman kneels before him and takes hold of it, leans down slightly. And bites his wrist.

The man hisses in pain as the woman's milky eyes stare into his, mouth latched tight to his flesh. This is her payment for whatever potion she gave him and it's clear that she's enjoying every moment.

And that's where the dream ended!

So what do you think (if anyone managed to make it this far lol)? Is this a past life, is this a Spirit calling out to me in a new way? Or is it something else entirely?

I've dreamt of this woman several times now. I know her name starts with the letter D. I know she was both a Vampire and a powerful Magick worker who was paid for her services in blood. I know she was on the darker side of the DA spectrum but that she didn't like to kill without cause (or just to feed). I know she lived in a house full of women who were all related to her but that she never knew her parents. I know that she never married or had children of her own but that she adopted a human daughter at one point.

Any feedback welcome! And again, sorry this was so long!

I daren't say anything definite about the import of the dream vision except it was very well described. it certainly came alive in my mind's eye. You must either be a writer or you would make a good one I think. I suppose it could easily be a genuine visitation from her, or maybe a vision from another source?

I don't get drawn to Vampire spirits, but I do have a very well behaved sentient servitor King Vampire. I have also met a spirit in a dream and was later able to bind them - are you considering that?

Lewk wrote:I daren't say anything definite about the import of the dream vision except it was very well described. it certainly came alive in my mind's eye. You must either be a writer or you would make a good one I think.

Aww, thank you Lewk! I am a writer but my forum posts are no where near up to my normal standards so that's really nice of you to say.

Lewk wrote: I have also met a spirit in a dream and was later able to bind them - are you considering that?

I might consider that if I ever figure out if it's an actual Spirit sending me these dreams!

denanna123 wrote:

Lewk wrote:I daren't say anything definite about the import of the dream vision except it was very well described. it certainly came alive in my mind's eye. You must either be a writer or you would make a good one I think.

Aww, thank you Lewk! I am a writer but my forum posts are no where near up to my normal standards so that's really nice of you to say.

You're welcome. I'm interested in writing and have taken some courses, so I tell myself I know good writing when I see it. There seem to be quite a few Kindle fiction writers with good reviews who don't write scenes as vivid as that post of yours. But dreams can also be like that I suppose - when you describe them to someone else they seem more vivid than what most of us would come up with when writing a story.

I like to think that dreaming is where humans got their ability to tell and be entranced by stories.

When you realise that hominid species existed long before homo sapiens and would have dreamed too, it makes me wonder how they might have engaged with imagination and story telling...and spirit contact. Surely having dreams about somone who had just died will have been as common then as now and might have been the beginning of human spiritual culture...if that makes sense.

Good luck working out what to do with the dream...