Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-25623211-20141121024053

I woke in my bed to feel the dog licking my hand. I slapped the stupid mutt and got out of bed. The arid conditions of my throat led me towards the kitchen, until I heard a sound. It was then I noticed the sad, bloody sight in my doorframe. My dog laid there, trying to whine as best it could through the blood. The warm tongue licked me once again

I woke in a hot sweat, trapped within the blanket that I would otherwise feel such security in. My feet hit the floor, releasing a strong thud into the space around me. A war. Tongue licked my feet and I bolted to the door. I had reach the spot where my dog had died before I realized my dog's bloody carcass did not lie there. Turning around, I could see my confused mutt staring at me. I would have cursed aloud had my throat not been parch like within the dream. I walked into the kitchen for water. I flipped the light on and in front of me stood a horrendous sight. It reminded me first of a humanoid arachnid, with staring soulless eyes. Unshorn hair crept alongside the almost featureless face, which was interrupted only by rows of jagged shards within what I hoped to be a mouth.

I woke again. I ran out the house, leaving it all behind. My foot betrayed me at the stairs while gravity forced my head to smash into the steps. I remained conscious long enough to see eight dreadful legs clack towards me.

I woke up. 