168 Hours in Hell
Maybe it helps, maybe it doesn’t, but once I finally pass out, my dreams are absolutely nightmarish.
I’m running through the woods being chased by two men who might be Harry and Baron, but whose hands are the size of five men and whose eyes are blood red. I want to wake up, but I can’t. I run and run and run as thorns tear at my clothes, ripping and shredding them until I’m completely naked. Finally, the two monstrous men corner me, cackling, slobbering all over themselves. One of them reaches in to touch me, and I rocket up in bed, drenched in sweat.
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