Nightmare

So that’s it, nothing to see around but the dark, deep and scary abyss, the piercing eyes of those fallen before me staring deep into my sinful forgotten soul. Their stares ran a shiver up my spine, one never felt before. As I tried to claw and scratch my way out of this hell hole, I found myself with a voice calling out. “you’re too late, no soul has ever escaped this pit, this is your doom now as it was ours.” the voice echoing through the chambers of the dark tunnel system I found myself in. As I try to light a match stick that I left behind in my pocket, I feel the breath of something in my neck. “Surely that’s not a wolf in my neck like before.”  Yet no answer came from the beast of war.  I fumbled around before remembering my lighter in my breast pocket, the very thing that I used to fuel my unhealthy smoking habits. With one fast move I took it out of my pocket and lit the flame, turning around quickly to see nothing. With this newly found light, I looked around the abyss I was just in, to see the walls lined with skulls of the dead. My eyes widen as I find there’s no soul alive here who’s voice could’ve echoed down these tight and narrow halls. As if an impulse took my body, my legs started running, and running for a while is what I did, leaving the dark narrow hallways behind me and never looking back. After hours and hours of running, the skulls just kept on coming, and with a heavy breath of air, I sat my ass down near a chair. As I look at what is in front of me, I mutter “who’s my enemy”, yet nothing could be clearer. You see what I saw on the skull before me. The very thing my eyes saw was none other than scratches on the skull in front of my very eyes. Scratch marks I could only make. As the terror in my eyes was shown to anyone who could see, at that very moment my lighter went out. As the darkness filled the air around me, I heard laughter surrounding me, and the fear grew in my chest as I could feel my heart beat fast. I feel the skeletal hands of the undead grip around my throat, the sweat dripping from my head as I look for a way to escape, my legs too weak to stand up, I give in to the undead. I close my eyes but as I do, everything disappears, the laughter, the skeletal hands gripping the life out of me, it’s all gone. As I wake up from the nightmare I found myself in, I feel a chill run down my spine. I was at home, in my old and trusted bed. Ever since I got home from the war I found myself in, I've been getting these nightmares, but they feel so real. I gasp for air, what is happening to me, why do I feel so weak in my legs, it was just a dream… wasn’t it? What else could it have been? It’s not like there’s a place that’s both underground and has human remains lining the walls. Then, if it was a dream, why do I still feel the after effects of it? Right at that moment, I heard a heavy thud down the stairs. I go to my closet and grab my weapon, a Mossberg 590 A1, and head down the narrow stairwell.