A Dream Come True

The night’s air was bitterly cold and the full moon gave off an evil silverfish hue. Menacing shadows reached out from the cemetery’s tombstones like clawed fingers grasping for unwary prey. Crystallized blades of iced-over grass mirrored the moon’s glow—a sharp contrast to the dark shadows. Marcus Raymaidez glanced over his right shoulder nervously and took notice of the plume of breath escaping his lungs and leaving his mouth. He shivered deeply as the cold bit through his clothing and licked his skin. It wasn’t his first time robbing graves, but this night bothered him more than usual.
Quietly slipping between tombstones, Marcus crept closer to the cemetery’s newest grave. The ground that marked the grave was bare of life and perfectly shaped in a large rectangle—the grass having yet to be replaced. A lonely owl hooted and screeched in the distance as he gripped his shovel with both hands. Setting the spade’s tip into the soft soil, he braised himself, placed his left foot on the shovel’s edge and then plunged it down. The spade pierced the earth with ease and Marcus gave a mischievous grin, “Piece of cake,” he said to himself. He dug harder and faster with each jab; the fog of his breath a testament to his hard work.
Suddenly he shivered, but not from the twenty eight degree temperature, Marcus felt as though he was being watch and examined. Stopping his dirty deed, he held his shovel like an oversized bat and glanced around. Fear gripped him by the stomach and forced his blood to pound through his body. Standing no more than ten feet away was the silhouette of a tall man, a menacing figure that emanated danger.
Marcus strained to see the figure’s face but found it impossible to penetrate the dark shadows. Something puzzled Marcus as he examined the intruder, he could see no breath coming from him. “Wh… wh… who goes there?” Marcus called out with his shovel raised and ready to strike. There was no response from the shadow covered man. The dark figure stepped into the moon’s glow and illuminated his body. The man smiled devilishly and stared into Marcus with eyes as black as onyx. Marcus stepped back with dread and felt his adrenalin surge. The demon of a man flashed his teeth and exposed two large pearl white fangs, and then lunged.

Buzz… buzz… buzz… buzz… buzz.

Marcus sat up in a cold sweat and squinted in the morning sun, shut off his alarm clock and laid back down caressing his silk sheets. “It was only a dream,” Marcus said aloud to no one in particular, then rubbed his neck to ease the stiffness. Something unusual caught his attention; there were two round scabs on the left side of his neck. Startled, he jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom mirror—only to find that he was not there.