Hell Is What You Make It

I bit my tongue, hard.. harder.. It was the only thing that kept me from screaming. The bitter taste of blood seeped into my mouth. My room was dark, but light enough to see them. They were on my ceiling, slowly, slithering their way to me. The sound they made were like sandboards scratching together. Things like that never bothered me but when I knew what was coming with it, it was torturous. The black, smoke like creatures started at my feet, threading through my legs, around my hips, all the way up my torso. Fear froze me to the core, tears that I didn't know I was crying wet my skin.