A bird can appear to be a man-eating dragon soaring through the sky. An old woman passing by could be a zombie roused by the scent of my blood, yearning for a bite of my warm flesh. My imagination is more captivating than my reality. My dreams could be a portal into a blissful Utopia, or they could be an everlasting torture chamber for my helpless soul. One night in particular, my dream was subjugated by the sinister side of my imagination.
My nightly routine consists mostly of reading some type of science fiction novel or watching a horror film. I had just settled down to watch the horror film Insidious for the night, after reading part of my favorite novel Blood Song. I have watched Insidious previously, so I knew I wasn’t going to stay awake. Regardless of my prediction, I continued to watch my movie with heavy, lidded eyes.
The urgent rhythmic thumping of my heart had felt like a hammer working at my chest, every beat making it harder to breathe. I tried adjusting my eyes to the darkness but as I reached up instinctively to rub my eyes, I felt bloody sockets where my eyes had been. Weakened by pain, I attempted using my other senses for survival. I heard whispers too distant to understand, I tasted warm metallic blood in my mouth where my tongue had found only a few remaining teeth. Feebly, I attempted to drag my body across the rough cement floor, realizing that most of my fingers had been cut off and my thumbs were only attached by some skin. Acosta-2
“Awww, where is my dear little doll going?” said a raspy hollow voice in a sing-song tone. The voice had seemed to echo from a distance, but the sudden talon that pierced my ankle suggested otherwise. He had dragged me toward him; then I heard his claws as he crawled on the floor, getting closer with each step. He was humming a song out of tune, and stopped when I felt his burning rough skin graze my arm. I felt his face inches from mine and could only hear