Little story of a 'thing' that haunts your dreams.
You're running, running as fast as you can. You know me, i'm one of the bad men. You look back and see my shadow on the dark brick alley walls. You think that my shadow is an exaggeration, but its not. Those horns you see, in the street light. They're real alright, my sweet delight. Your feet are moving as fast as they can, we both know its not fast enough; you know i'll just appear in front of you. Like now.
You scream but i cover your mouth even before a sound comes out. You look up at me in fear, you think i'll hurt you. Would you believe me if i said i won't? I can see the smoke rise from your skin, i'm burning your flesh with my own. Tears stream down your eyes as the smell of burnt skin begins to rise. I realise my hand but you cover your mouth with your own, wanting to touch your burnt skin, wanting to feel the damage done. I stroke your cheek just once with my finger, creating a line of dead skin. You recoil, you're in too much pain to scream. But i begin to fade, slowly, as i kiss you. Surprisingly you kiss back.
You wake up, the battle scars faintly glisten in the light, only just visible, to your eyes only.