He walks over to the coffin he shares with Bullet and begins preparing it so they can wind down for some deep sleep.

Dracubat thinks about the long night they have ahead of them. Bullet finishes packing the miniature coffin that is filled with their personal belongings. After he closes the lid securely, he heads to the kitchen for their emergency nightcap. Dracubat begins mixing the special potion that will give the two plenty of energy for their long journey to Chicago. A few sparks fly as Dracubat throws in ant’s blood and grasshoppers to the green concoction. The two of them down two glasses each and then hurry off to the coffin so they can rest.

The air is heavy with thoughts about what exactly this journey is for. Dracubat keeps hearing the mysterious caller’s voice over and over in his head. As he closes the lid of the coffin, the caller’s voice is the lullaby that quickly pushes him to sleep. Bullet lies in the coffin at his master’s feet and is also quickly off to sleep.

Although Dracubat fell asleep quickly, he is not relaxed as his mind takes him traveling to the old theater in Chicago. He feels himself on the stage with a huge spotlight aimed at him. Bullet is nowhere in sight and as Dracubat faces the hundreds of rows of seats in front of him, he senses that their is an audience and somehow he is onstage for someone or something’s amusement. The spotlight is blinding, but Dracubat senses that Bullet might be in danger. He flies upwards trying to move above the spotlight but it moves and begins chasing him from corner to corner as he tries dodging it. Following his every move, the spotlight is so thick that Dracubat feels as if it has a physical hold on him. He flies towards the rows of seats and flies so close to the chairs that he is able to see physical bodies sitting and can actually feel the warmth of their breath. As he continues flying over the chairs, he feels the sensation of the spotlight tighten around his wings; he begins spiraling to the concrete floor below and as he falls, he hears a faint buzzing and someone calling his name in the background. His head hits with a thud and he feels something on his chest.

“Master, master, it is time.” He realizes that his dream has been interrupted by the fact that he has actually banged his head on the wooden coffin lid–he was startled by the alarm clock’s buzzing and Bullet’s gentle yet firm urgings to get up. He looks at the clock and it says midnight; he knows that it is time for the two to begin their trek to Chicago.