I have really fucked up dreams.  But knowing me, you probably knew about that already.

Don't even ask me what I ate to give me this wild and gory mind bending ride.  Really, please, 
don't.  You won't like what you hear.

Moving on...

Here's the basic plot line:  A trio of flesh eating vampires from Eastern Europe have landed in 
America, and now they're making lives miserable.  The police don't know what to do, seeing as 
partially eaten bodies are turning up all over town (what town?  I dunno.) and the citizens are 
getting just a titch restless.  (Hell, who wouldn't be?)  There is one person who has an idea of 
what's going on, but let's face it, if some college student walked up to you and said, "Oh, it's 
not a serial killer, it's a vampire," would YOU believe her?  Right, that's what I thought.  So 
the killings continue, and the police finally start trusting the girl, and then they destroy the 
vampires.  End of story.

Well, sort of.  There are a few twists, I guess, but it's relatively straightforward.  If I get 
down to writing this, maybe I'll make it nastier.  I mean, nastier plotwise, not nastier in 
details, 'cause let's face it, flesh eating vampires are just DAMN nasty.

And yes, they did eat people in my dream.  My eye twitches whenever I think about it.

Okay, here's where the random notes start...

The relationship between the three vampires:
Two are married, the third is the uncle of the wife.
The uncle is homicidally insane.  The other two just want to survive.

Vampirisim:
Need blood to survive.
-It's like their way of restoring life energy, seeing as they're really dead.  Or undead.  Or 
whatever.
If injured, need to eat flesh to restore strength.
-Preferably living flesh.
-Preferably living HUMAN flesh.
Can only be killed (permanently) by fire.
-Otherwise the remaining body parts will find a way to take in new flesh and rejuvenate.
Can be sort of genetic.
-Children aren't undead, but aren't totally human either.

The heroine:
College student
Knows about vampirisim first hand

Story part:

	"Vampires," said the police chief.
	"Yeah.  Vampires."
	He shook his head.  "That's stupid.  Vampires aren't real."
	"Do you have a better explanation?" I asked.
	He opened his mouth, then closed it, looking indecisive.
	"Then are you ready to listen to me?"
	"Sure," he said, sitting back in his chair.  "Tell me about the vampires."
	So I went through the story.  How the decendants of Vlad the Impaler had been hiding out 
in Eastern Europe for years, how they maintained their immortality through eating human flesh and 
drinking human blood, how they occasionally crossed the ocean to North America to seek out new 
territory...
	"That's just crazy," the chief said, but without conviction.  I think I was finally 
getting through to him.
	"Yeah, it's freakin' insane.  But it's the truth."
	He contemplated the ceiling for a few minutes, chewing absently on a paperclip.  Just 
when I thought he'd gotten so far lost in thought we'd never find him again, he sat up.
	"Tell me, how do you know so much about these vampires?"
	"Uh..."  What was I supposed to say?  That I'd seen my dad eat my little sister when I 
was 12?  That sometimes I had insatiable cravings for red meat?  That the doctors still couldn't 
figure out why I was so anemic?  "It's just something I've, you know, picked up on."
	"Uh huh."  Saying he wasn't convinced would have been an understatement.  "And where does 
one 'pick up on' vampire lore?"
	"Here and there."
	"You're turning red."
	"No I'm not."
	"Hmm."  He went back to chewing on his paperclip.  I stared intently out the window at 
nothing in particular.  "So," he said, breaking the silence, "what do you suggest we do about 
these...  vampires?"
	"Find them.  Bait them, hunt them, whatever it takes.  Then burn them to ashes."
	He raised an eyebrow.  "Burn them?"
	"How else do you think you'd kill something that regenerates?"
	"I dunno.  Couldn't you blow them up or something?"
	I shook my head.  "Nope.  If some small part survives, it'll find a way to regenerate.  
No matter what you do, it'll find a way to survive."
	"Unless it's burned."
	"Precisely."
	"What about holy water?  Crosses?  That sort of thing?"
	"No good.  They're not unholy creatures, they're just...  inhuman."
	"Inhuman...  Yeah, that's one way to describe them..."  He tapped out something on his 
computer, then turned back around.  "Thank you for your time.  We'll be contacting you if we need 
any more help."
	"Alright then.  Good luck, chief."
	"Keep out of trouble, Sara."  I couldn't tell if it was a threat or a warning, but I 
thanked him anyway and left the building.