There was s strange man in my bedroom. I was extremely aware of him, but I chose not to react. I was strange like that. But it's not like he was going to do anything, was it? But everyone was screaming at me and I couldn't understand why. And they screamed and they screamed. And BLOOD they screamed about. BLOOD! And they screamed at me, and they were screaming-
I sat up in bed breathing heavily.
"Oh! Damn it! Damn these dreams!" I exclaimed. It was dark in my bedroom. Just enough light to make out a few outlines of objects. I slumped back into my pillows. Why wouldn't these dreams stop!? They were driving me crazy! All about blood and screaming! God, those people were so scared of me! But why? Why were they so scared?
"Not dreams," a voice told me. I froze.
If I'd been paying attention, I would've seen the clues. How my bedroom door was open just a crack. I would've seen how that slit of light illuminated the footprints. I would've seen the stains on the walls and on my bed. I would've seen the strange man who stood in the corner, in a pool of blood from that which was dripping from his clothes. I would've noticed how I was already bleeding, the dark red liquid oozing onto my pillow from my neck.
Of course, I didn't. And now the strange man was sinking his sharp teeth into my neck, finishing off the deadly job he'd already started.