The Creeper and His Nightmares

I sat up suddenly, eyes open wide in some sort of unseen recognition of the night and its abysmal mysteries. Two objects clasped themselves to my face, making me gasp until I realized it was my own hands clutching my eyes in exasperation. Another dream of the handsome man managed to engross my mind in an odd form.
~*^*~
He had been standing a short distance away, holding his palms facing up so the blood strewn across the tattered sleeves of his shirt raced down the back of his hands. Each drop pounded the ground approaching quicker until streams washed his arms into a pool of sinful euphoria. His body slouched over, heaving breath after breath.
Trepidation fell upon me, body and soul. His eyes piercing my own with infamous intent, smile curled on the side of his face. My chest felt hard and the pang of my heart resounded loudly in my ears.
Once. Twice. Three breaths. He stopped.
Frozen in hell all I could do was stare, endlessly, knowing that my eyes would only continue to betray me as I fought to gaze away from that menacing grin. No matter how loud the screams, how hard I tensed my muscles to stretch and hollow out my lungs to summon some savior I knew was not there, I was absent from that body. ‘Run, run you idiot!’ raced through my mind. I remained a third person locked inside a concrete shell. I could still be shattered; I can not escape his crime.
~*^*~
The room was cold, a creeping ice crawling over my bare shoulders until I could bear no more. I pulled the blanket over them, staring at the bottom of the wall across from me. Over and over again the image went through my mind, his grin becoming twisted further and further out of shape until I was convinced that anything that can be distorted in such a way is not real.