Its your funeral!

A dark night and you find yourself wandering a path. The moon is full, yet clouds roll by now and then to hide its illuminating light. You've lost your way and are trying to find some sort of shelter for the night, yet nothing has come around just yet.

Soon you come to a gate, dark and seeming uninviting, yet you pass through it and find yourself in what appears to be a graveyard. A dark and haunting laugh is heard from somewhere around the graveyard, chilling you to the very core. You run up the path, a dark house seeming to come into view now.

Reaching the door you run inside and slam the door behind you, breathing deeply, then back away a bit. You turn to look at your surroundings, finding yourself in some type of manor. Although dark and haunting it almost seems to hold a type of warmth. You take a step, before something seems to stop you. Looking up towards what appears to be a sort of balcony area, you notice someone watching you.

Who could it be?

Looking from the figure to the door, you wonder who he is. You say nothing, only swallow a lump in your throat as something seems chilling about him.

"It seems I have a visitor in my midsts. Delightful," the male states as he makes his way down the stairs.

"Lovely ... How simply lovely."  he continues in a chilling voice, sure to send shivers down your spine. As he descends down the stairs.

You back up towards the door, yet soon freeze as he pauses on the steps, arms crossing over his chest, chuckle coming from him and then you notice something, a pair of fangs.

"Come now. I won't bite...hard," again he chuckles.

You shudder a bit as you close your eyes, you know your fate is sealed and when you dare to  look back to the male who had spoken was now on the balcony once more, but not for to much longer. The male would soon grasp the railing and leap over it - falling to the floor and landing in a crouch on the floor below. He landed with a soft echo. Now straightening himself, he walks toward you.

"Come to drink with the damned? Or for the bragging rights that come with living through the night?" He smiles hauntingly, a pair of razor sharp fangs barring in such a state.

Your eyes widen, your heart beats with fear, breath catches in your throat as you
can't help but to stare at those razor sharp canines that glisten in the light.
A quick movement catches you off guard, a flash of pain is felt
before you realize what was done. You try to fight him off,
but are unable to do it. Your body is slowly fading
Soon your world goes black,
it is then that the man pulls back.
Leaving you there on the floor now.
He turns walking away as he sings a haunting tune.
The man's lips now stained with blood as he laughed
hauntingly. The song he sung...simple....it goes like this.

"We have Undertaker's mutes.
See them in their black silk suits,
Following behind the funeral procession…
With their features fixed in suitable expressions!

There'll be horses with tall black plumes
To escort us to the family tombs,
With mourners
In all corners
Who've been taught to weep in tune!

Then the coffin lined with satin.
That's your funeral! That's your funeral!

Large enough to wear your hat in.
That's your funeral! That's your funeral!

We're just here to glamorize you for that
Endless sleep!

You might just as well look fetching
When you're six feet deep.

And at night, we'll drink a toddy
To the body beautiful!
That's your funeral!
Not our funeral!

That's your funeral!

If you're fond of overeating
That's your funeral! That's your funeral.
Starve yourself by under eating
That's your funeral! That's your funeral!

Visualize the earth descent in on you clod by clod.
You can't come back when you're buried and gone
Underneath the sod.
In the end we'll either burn you up or nail you down.

We love coughs and wheezes
And diseases called incurable.
That's your funeral.
No one else's funeral.

That's your...

That's your...

Funeral!"

Those words echo into the night, as the man stands outside at an unmarked tombstone, a hole is dug. The shovel left in the heap of dirt, as the man returned inside.
A coffin was forged, your body laid to rest. The lid nailed shut,
and it was lowered into the ground. Your eyes pop
open as you gasp for breath
realizing now you've gotten in one
hell of a mess. You beat and claw at your prison
only to hear the dirt put you into submission
there six feet under....
you are now left to wonder.
"Why did I come here? Why didn't I run?"


Questions to answers, that one will never know....
you awaken now in a cold sweat, looking around you find you're still in your bed
it was all a dream?
It would seem so.
Touching your neck your eyes widen with fear.
For there hidden under your hand
is a wound that would prove that it was no dream.