1 Running, he didn't stop. He didn't? He couldn't. He ran, the street melted into more pavement, surrounded, smothered by the forest. Was it the increasing foliage that darkened the sky, or was it the sky denying its own warmth and light to the world that forced James's pupils to dilate in order to see? By this point sweat was pouring off of him, his clothes saturated and sopping. The air rushing over him from his feet pounding the pavement didn't help to cool him, and the sweat continued to pour. When he finally reached his limit, James collapsed. He fell to his knees and was heaving gigantic gulps of air into his searing lungs. Breathlessly he said aloud,
"If that were a dream, wouldn't I have woken up?" Pulling his hands through his thick blonde hair and shaking his head he rested thankfully. As if in defiance to regaining a bit of his own wit, he happened to look up. His crystal blue eyes gazed into the sky for some form of comfort. All that was to be found, was blackness. No moon, no stars, no clouds, just black. Wind, utter wind blew strongly around him, and died as quickly as it came. The trees lining the field just before him watched carefully, and he stared directly ahead. Everything, the air even, was far too quiet. It was as if the entire world just stopped before him. The ever present crickets, the hooting owls all seemed to be peacefully slumbering, causing James to panic more by the moment. His weary eyes raced from one side of his line of sight to the other, seeing the same exact thing. His heart began to beat faster than a set of drums marching to war. Blood began to course through his system carrying with it more adrenaline than he had ever felt in his life, and nothing had happened. As he gazed fearfully into the field just yards in front of him, the center began to become blacker. At first he thought he was seeing things, until the entire head rose from the earth. It was the head of a goat, making no sense being attached to the human shoulders now rising underneath the head. Slowly but steadily the being continued to rise, stretching wings from its back that reached twenty feet in either direction, massive didn't begin to describe this creature. Terror gripped James tighter than a Kraken's tentacle to its victim. His stomach leaped into his throat, spilling its contents onto the ground around him. Then he saw the arms, out stretched and bent, in the wrong direction. If there were anything more in his stomach, it would have left directly after. The form was utterly black, yet somehow the shape and position of his limbs were visible. This fact only made the next site to plague James more horrid. The legs of the form were crossed, in the incorrect direction. This forms presence made the very trees scream and tremble in horror. The ground beneath James begged him to stand and run, escape, put as much distance between this place and himself as conceivably possible. His body was completely immobile, a fact which was beyond less than comforting. The sound of the trees crying, the ground begging, his soul was practically churning. And that was when the beast, already causing more than its fair share of terror upon this planet, opened its eyes. His glowing, burning, yet hollow empty deep red eyes. Its eyes were the absence of happiness, and when they pierced through James, it was as if everything in the world was rotting, and screaming in the process. He felt blood begin to trickle from his pours, and he began to rise from the ground. He coughed and blood spurted forth from every orifice his being held. His finger nails exploded backward from his fingers and began to peel his flesh with them. He looked at his hands to see the skeleton that was the foundation for his body. Just as he began to black out from loss of blood and terror unimagined, the creature opened its mouth and sped quickly toward him. Its mouth was large enough to swallow him whole, and not without a second thought. The acrid stench of death and pain emanated from the throat of this foul abomination. If it made a noise, James never would have heard it over his own screams. All he could manage to push from his pain wrought lungs was a single sentence over and over,
"THIS CAN'T BE REAL, THIS CAN'T BE REAL THIS CAN'T BE REAL!"