The Crimson Night

It's dark, cold and lonely in this place. The last thing I can remember is anger, pain and suffering. I keep hearing these horrifying, blood curdling screams. My mind is not stable. The darkness begins to fade away into a light Gray haze.   A man's silhouette reaches out to me saying 'Its not your time.... yet...' He repeats the phrase over and over until it becomes an echo in my head. Then he as well fades away, just as his call had done. The haze begins to clear up and is now pale white.   Flashes of gleaming light surround me. The screeching, and clashing of metal on metal is in perfect harmony with every flash I see. Finally I hear another sound, except it's more of a piercing sound of a sword penetrating flesh. Someone has fallen. I saw, no longer white, but a crimson red. My vision finally clears, but there's a slight tinge of crimson in my perception, blood has stained my sight.   I see a man standing over a body hauling a sword out of it. Blood dripped from the sword. The man looked over in my direction.   The man's voice was very familiar, and sounded almost exactly like the silhouette had, as he spoke. "It's not your time boy, it's not your time." The man had been walking towards me as he said this, and he kept walking towards me, until he passed by me. He vanishes just behind me, outside my depth of sight.   I looked down, the ground was drenched and stained with blood, not just from the body lying lifeless in front of me. I turned around, bodies lied scattered all over, buildings were engulfed in flames burning, smoke filled the air, the air had a stench in it from the decaying bodies.   As I passed bodies, when I began to walk in the direction the man with the sword had been heading, each of the bodies had either been mutilated or murdered, none died from suffocation, none died naturally.   When I passed a barrel of water, I stopped and turned to peer into it. I saw a reflection not of my own but of a boy, covered almost head to toe in blood. I concentrated, specifically, on the eyes of the boy. He looked familiar. He was no human, vampire, nor demon. I saw in the boy's eyes death, darkness, chaos.   Is this who I really am...   I snapped out of sleep into conciousness, sitting straight up in my bed in a cold sweat. This nightmare has been haunting my dreams for several years. It consistantly would become more vivid and frequent around the same time each year, the anniversary of the Crimson Night. I was too young to remember much of what happened and it never quite left me alone as I grew older.