Pinch Myself, Not Dreaming

I follow his voice along a dark corridor,
feeling my way against the wall,
Where was he?

The more I followed the farther still his voice seemed,
Pinch myself,clearly not a dream.

I stop,clinging tightly to the cold damp wall,
Silence was all I heard carried with the breeze coming from some unseen crack or crevice,
a window maybe?

Perhaps it was a door.
I listened until his voice flowed back to my ears and than I followed once more.

Pinch myself again,clearly not a dream.

Feeling along the wall blind in the pitch black darkness encasing the corridor,
A scream escapes my throat as my hands touch something close to the feel of slime.

I have to find him,
we had to get out,
the chills up my spine tell me that were running out of time.

Pinch myself,not dreaming.

Suddenly light illuminates a door ahead to which his voice seems to be present.

I hesitate before turning the knob,not knowing what I'd find.

I had a sneaking suspicion that whatever it was to my eyes it would not be kind.

Slowly I turned the knob cracking the door enough to have a peep.

Nothing to the right,
but opening the door and turning left revealed a gruesome sight.

Strung from an old chandelier hanging from a chain,
was him head hanging on by a thread.
As I moved closer,
tears streaming from my eyes.
I see his body was impaled in the center was a hole,
through the hole an eye staring, waiting to capture my screams.

The creature moved slowly,
across the ceiling stopping above my head.

A scream escapes my throat and I realize I am being chocked.

A chain tightens around my brittle bare neck.
Breath is trapped inside my lungs,
swelling in my chest.
My final thought before I died is Why did I care so little for my life and yet so much for his?
Pinch once,
Pinch twice
Pinch three
The fact I wasn't dreaming should have been very clear.