It was a dark night, so dark you couldn't see your own hand in front of you. The cool wind danced gently through the bushes as a man pulled up on the side of the road. He had a flat tire and had to get out of his car. The man shivered as he stepped outside. Of all the days and at this time too. This man was in a hurry. As the wind pushed the bushes harder the man began to move quicker. He felt an all to familiar shiver run down his spine. His hands began to shake as he fiddled with the tire. The wind began to roar now, and the man jumped. Something wasn't right, something was here. The man turned around and saw nothing but blackness. He turned back slower now glad that nothing was there only to be cut down. The thing that stood above him diced him again and let black tentacles wrap him. The beast consumed him whole and darted away...Frank Wilson jolted out of bed with his heart begging to get out.
Damn dreams again he thought to himself as he drifted back to sleep.