Caleb Turner. A Change In the Stagnant Wind

The dark sockets of a lurching corpse stared right into Caleb's eyes, suspended in midair above him. He was lying on a cold, hard surface, the thin fabric of his t-shirt doing nothing to ward off the frozen ground. The corpse above him moved, the strings attached to it tightening as it got closer to him. He could smell the stench of death before he saw its mouth open—letting out a horrifying guttural moan.

His automatic reaction was to jump away, but his muscles felt numb. It felt like he was cemented in cold air, unable to turn his head away from the horror in front of him. he forced his eyes shut—his last resort, as the corpse above him started to scream.

Dread consumed his whole body. He tried to let out his own frenzied scream, but nothing came out. His lips had been sewn shut. Hysterical sobs managed to escape before realisation hit him.

This was a dream.