Scarlett Turner vs The Apocalyptic Race

I jump at the sudden sound of my alarm clock; I’d been awake all night again. For some reason it’s become a habit. I’ve been having these re-occurring nightmares, each picking up from where it left off the night before. Every night, as I close my eyes, an image of a distorted torn up face flashes in front of my eyes. Two nights ago I had a dream. No ordinary dream. I was sitting in a room with a stranger who was sitting up against a window. I’d never met the stranger as far as I knew but as I looked around I heard a growling, moaning type sound. Before I knew it, there was a loud smash and the stranger was dragged through the window, being violently ripped apart by three things that let off a disgusting odour. I could tell there were more of them outside just by the overwhelming sound and stink. I didn’t know what to do so I froze, I slowly positioned myself in a corner. The things that tore the stranger apart were slowly but gradually, dragged themselves across the room. Just as one lunged at me I screamed and woke up in a cold sweat.