Margate used to be all noise.
Screams from the rollercoaster. Laughter from the arcades. The sugary chaos of candyfloss and coins. But now, the Dreamland gates rust in place, and the only thing that still screams is the wind.
Except…
locals whisper it’s not just the wind.
They say the vampire came with the tide — not in a coffin, but buried beneath the sand. That the old rides weren’t shut down for health and safety… but for blood. One by one, fairground workers started disappearing. Then came the seagulls: found gutted. Fish washed up shredded. A child said she saw "a man with shark teeth" crawling out of the ghost train.
Now no one goes near Dreamland after dark.
But sometimes, you’ll still see the carousel flicker on — lights spinning, slow and broken, like it’s remembering.
And if you listen closely through the fog,
you might hear the music.
That’s not a recording.
That’s the vampire humming.
Because he doesn’t sleep under the pier anymore.
He’s hungry.
And he remembers the taste of you.
