The Dream

Damp, cold, the dripping won't stop. That dripping, where does it come from, where is the source of that annoying sound. What is it and why does it wake me from my sweet slumber? Or am I wake? This sound so familiar yet so strange.

My face its wet with the blood of the innocence. It trickled down my forehead and onto my cheeks, pooling in a small puddle on my neck. My eyes open, bodies hung from the ceiling, dismembered and brutalized. My gaze held the eyes of a woman whose eyes were permanently opened from having her eyelids cut off.

I didn't scream, I knew I was asleep. I bite my lip, only to taste blood. I spit, gross, I hate dreams that felt real. I lifted my bangs off my forehead and got up. Carnage for miles and mile, as far as the eyes can see. I shook my head, I have to stop seeing scary movies before I go to sleep. I step over bodies trying to get somewhere just hoping I would just wake up. The smell was bad and the streets were covered with blood. The rivers of blood seemed to flow through the streets with no sign of stopping.

In the river bodies were floating like logs would. The bodies of animals and people alike. Bodies that were whole and some torn apart, pieces and chucks of flesh everywhere. I was curious to what happened but it would be pointlessly to ask there was no one alive for miles and I would get no answer from a corpse. I walked for miles looking for at least one person who was alive finding nothing.

I found a motel and I fell asleep in it. When I opened my eyes I saw...........