Puncture

A comforting, familiar night
You breathe slowly
In your dark room, under the covers.
Peaceful, you are relaxed.
Then,
A shadow lurches, lunges
And teeth grab your ankle
Your heart is awake, screaming and pounding.
Your flesh on your ankle in torn,
Punctured,
As you struggle
With the set of teeth attached to jaws,
Attached to a head,
To a body of a vile creature
Then,
You wake, from your nightmare.
Feeling down your leg you feel,
Pain, puncture wounds,
And blood,
As it seeps into the bed,
Painting an intricate painting
Of life and death.