Thomas was a friend to many. He had a wife, two kids, and a steady job. He was living the good life; or so everyone thought.

You see, poor Thomas was born with a flaw in his brain. Since he was a small child, he was paranoid of everything. He saw demons where there were only shadows. Every day he would cry for someone to save him from non-existent ghouls. Once, his teacher had to call his parents after he climbed a tree to save himself from another figment of his imagination.

"But, Mom!" he would say afterwards. "It's going to eat me, Mom!"

This would continue his whole life, but a long life is never a guarantee.

Thomas woke up suddenly. He had a wicked headache and couldn't stop shaking. He closed his eyes, hoping it was all just a hellish dream. But no such luck. As he opened his eyes, he heard a terrible noise.

A mix of moans, cries, and roars. As the sound grew louder, his headache became more and more painful until he felt he needed to scream. And so he did. Unfortunately, when he finished his crying the growling grew louder like a hungry beast that just found its prey... a cry of victory.

"Oh, God no..." was all Thomas could muster.

As he turned around, he saw a sight that would haunt the rest of his life. Horrible, grotesque monsters were watching him with horrid grins. Of course that was only the monsters that could grin. Some had faces so deformed they couldn't even hope of making expressions. Thomas turned around again to see an older man. He had a terrified expression on his face.

"What are you doing!? Don't you see those horrible creatures! Follow me!"

Thomas ran. What other choice was there? He could only hope this man was on his side.

As they ran, Thomas took note of his surroundings. A pine forest. Usually, it would be a very pretty place to hike. But hiking meant slowing his pace, and Thomas, as you know, couldn't afford that. It was also raining very hard. Thomas was getting soaked, ruining his wool sweater. He looked down to see he was following a dirt path. Although now you might as well have called it a mud path.

The two were getting tired of running, but fear for their very lives kept them going. Thomas' pulse was speeding and he was losing his ability to think straight. He turned around and gasped. The creatures didn't seem to tire of running.

"Don't look back, my friend!" shouted the stranger. "It only causes fear and slows you down!"

Eventually after what felt like hours of running they came upon an old shack. Seeing it as their only chance, they ran inside and locked the door.

"Thank God it has a lock," Thomas sighed. Now if only they had a lamp.

Then lightning struck, lighting up the room for a few precious seconds.

Now let's let your imagination run wild for a minute. Guess what was in the shack? Blood and gore all over the walls? Saws and knives everywhere? Monsters hiding, waiting for an ambush? Although those options could be potentially exciting, I cannot lie to you. All there was in the shack were a few barrels of wine and some sketches of trees.

Then there was a bang at the door. The door began to splinter and crack. The two men screamed in a very unmanly fashion. Did you really believe a silly lock could stop those hungry beasts?

The old man turned and smashed a window.

"Go!" he yelled. "It's ME they're after!"

Thomas jumped out the window while the monsters were distracted by eating his partner.

If Thomas were a luckier man he could have made a clean getaway. Maybe there would be a village he could take refuge in. Sadly that was not the case. Thomas cut his hand climbing out the window. The monsters reacted like sharks. They could smell his blood. His friend was only the appetizer.

And so the chase continued. This is sadly all the information I have regarding my dear friend Thomas. Except... The other day I found this. It's not much, but you must agree it sounds familiar.

To this day something worries me. As we both know, Thomas hallucinated a lot. Could this all be a freakish nightmare he dreamed up? I sure hope not.

I'd hate to know I was just a figure of Thomas' imagination.

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