Here’s what I remember from last night’s dream. I was staying in a hotel with a large group of people, a high school trip or something. The hotel was a converted seaside manor, all narrow hallways and oddly shaped rooms. I was in a room which had clearly been decorated by a goth kid — punk posters and dark plaid. After lights out, a white cat with very short hair went around to all the doors to check that they were closed — I saw his paws push against the thin paper of the door. My room was long and had a couple entrances, one of which had been left open a crack. The cat came in, jumped on the desk and started knocking things over. I tossed him out and closed the door.
Next scene, my roommate (my wife?) and I had snuck out and were on the porch walking around in the dim pre-sunrise light. As I passed in front of a glass-panel door, I saw what the cat was protecting us from. Something that looked like one of the Dementors from Azkaban darted into the room, hovering horizontally and searching for something, his black figure silhouetted against the blue light of the large windows across the room.
As his field of vision passed over me, I yelled “get down” and dropped to the floor as the thing, which I remember calling Dracula, flew towards us at great speed. I think there was a scythe involved.