The Hellhound

I stumble through the dreamlike terrain, legs heavy, exhausted, and ready to surrender. I can either sit and down and let the beast take me or I can stand and fight. My heart pounds in my chest. I can sense it; the menacing presence that lurks in the shadows- the Hellhound.

I've always been plagued by the most vivid of nightmares. In the waking world I'm just a regular guy, going about my everyday mind-numbing life but in the realm of dreams, I'm hunted by a relentless creature from the depths of hell. Night after night, the Hellhound hunts me, its fiery blood-red eyes and gnashing teeth shadowing my every step.

Every nightmare begins innocently enough, with me wondering around burnt out wastelands, searching for any sign of a way home but they never stay that way. Nightmares can be twisted; they have the ability to make the most sane of minds lose control. A growl echoes through the dream, sending shivers down my spine. I pick up my pace, peeking over my shoulder, only to catch a momentary glimpse of a shadowy creature. My instincts scream at me to run, but to where? The vast wasteland has nothing to offer but desiccated barren trees, brown plants, and miles and miles of debris.

As the nights wore on, the Hellhound closed in, its presence growing more vivid with each passing dream. Screaming, arms and legs thrashing, even tearing chunks out of my own hair and skin as I felt its hot breath on the back of my neck. A reminder that I was never truly alone in the burnt-out wasteland of my nightmares.

I no longer calmly wondered through the wasteland; I ran for my life as the Hellhound materialised before me. I now understood its need to hunt me in my nightmares. Its coal black fur was near damn impossible to see. Panic gripped me as I realise, nothing escapes the fiery blood-red eyes of the Hellhound. The beast lunged at me, I awoke with a start, drenched in my sweat, my heart racing. The nightmares either mean something or are just a product of my overactive imagination. Little did I know, the Hellhound was drawing nearer, readying itself, to feast on my every fear.

The nightmares took there toll on me, dark circles formed under my eyes, fatigue filled my bones; half the man I once was. I feared the nightmares would be the death of me, I became hellbent on uncovering the meaning behind them.

Each day became a challenge, the Hellhound plagued my every waking thought; a parasite, using me as its host. I questioned my sanity, wondering if the beast was part of my deepest darkest fears, or if a supernatural being had latched onto my soul. Either way, I wasn't sure what was real anymore.

The nightmares had intensified, I ran faster as the Hellhound become more ferocious, its howls now ingrained into my subconscious.

One night, as the beast homed in on me, the strangest thing happened; my house materialised out of nowhere, its shiny red door glistening in the moonlight as I made a last surging dash towards it. Was this real or just another wicked twist in my hellish nightmare? The real world appearing in my nightmares was certainly not a good sign but I didn't have the strength or the time to worry myself stupid. Using the last of the energy I had left in my depleted legs, I bounded towards the door, glancing over my shoulder only to see that the beast had vanished. Coming to a halt, I scan the area; absolutely nothing, not a single trace of the beast that had been snapping at my heels just a second ago. I turn and face the door, only to be greeted by the blood-soaked razor-sharp teeth of the Hellhound.

I find myself armed with weapons, swords, shields, even axes. No idea where the weapons materialised from, I face the creature head on. The Hellhound attacked with relentless rage, its claws tearing through the air, its fiery breath scorching everything around me. Each clash a matter of life and death, fought on the wasteland of my nightmares. The beast struck the first blow, down I went, screaming in agony, a cloud of dust surrounding me as I hit the ground with almighty force. Blood sprayed from the open wound the beast had carved into my arm. The Hellhound loomed over me. Sensing victory, a sinister grin spread across its face. A wave of energy surged through me. I drew up my sword with my unwounded arm and swung for the creature. It withdrew as I lashed out, connecting with its neck, the swords blade glistening with its dark red blood.

The wasteland had now turned into a battleground, the ground, bloody beneath our feet. Sparks flew, as my blade met the beasts claws. I felt a surge of power rise through me, the Hellhound became more desperate in its attack. It became careless, allowing me to counter, cutting and slicing through its blood-soaked fur. I mustn't get complacent, one momentary lapse in concentration, and the beast would rip my throat out. As wounded as we both were, there would be no respite. Exhausted, drenched in blood and arms filled with lactic acid, still no idea how I was able to swing my sword, the battle continued.

With a final decisive blow, I thrust the tip of the sword down through the beasts skull. The Hellhound lay there, lifeless, its fiery blood-red eyes glazed over. Gazing up, I was relieved to see the shiny red door of my house was still there, I hobbled towards it, and gently, pushed it open.

I awoke gasping for breath, the weight of the nightmares lifted from my shoulders. It was morning, and the realisation hit me, I figured out the meaning of my nightmares. The Hellhound must represent every single one of my fears. I battled the beast and emerged victorious. From this day on, I will tackle my fears head on, no more running but yet, how do I explain the nasty gash on my arm?