The ice grew thickly over the roads, and the blue skies grew into deeper and deeper blues until, dark night, black as ink, shimmered with its myriad sparkling lights. The ice and stars glimmered, and the terrible, enthralling monotony of the long, long drive sang a siren song of sleep.
So, was it a dream, then, what I saw on my third Red Bull? That naked thing which was almost human? They say I lost my leg in the crash, but I wasn’t flung from my driver’s seat. The buckle was undone, and that thing, that pale thing—I remember being dragged across the gravel, and the gibbering sounds the creature made.
It, that thing, worked the joint free, caring nothing for my mindless screams.
Tale Told 