Nightmare

The plain corridor seemed to go on forever. Black window after black window lined the grey walls. It was colder than Death's cloak, and my body shivered uncontrollably. Goose bumps prickled my skin, not at all helped by the silk pajamas I was wearing. The door ahead was getting closer with every step.

I knew I was dreaming, but I wanted to see behind that door.

As I drew closer to it, silver moon-light suddenly flooded the hallway, illuminating the door and its brass handle. My foot landed in a sticky, thick substance. I stifled a gasp at the blood oozing out from under the door.

Only a split-second's hesitation. I had been waiting so long. Blood meant nothing in a dream anymore.

A scream filled the room I opened the door to. Scarlet covered the floor and streaked up the walls. A man hung from a rope in the centre of the room, deep lacerations covering his back. My stomach turned as I drew closer to him, sick memories spinning in my head. There was something familiar in his slacken face. I leaned in and yelped as his eyes flashed open.

He had her eyes.

I woke with a start, and, for a split second, a man dangled from my ceiling, smiling and lifeless. I felt the bile rising in my throat.