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It was the middle of the night when you suddenly awoke. There was somebody standing over the edge of your bed, a dark, tall figure. You thought it was sleep paralysis at first, but then you moved your body. The figure crawled onto the bed, pinning you down. You felt its cold, pale hands touch your arm and hold you still. Once close enough, you could see its face pretty well. Its dreaded hair fell over his face, his sharp fangs glimmering in the moonlight.
Jonathan Davis
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