I woke up.

She was there. She has black sholder-length hair, large hands and bare feet with green nail-polish and she was wingless but I recognised that neclace and dress and those very red lips. She was leaning over me with a black messer in her hand made entireley of grass.
Our eyes met and she hissed at me with her forked tounge. I reached over for my bronze spear but she grabbed my arm and held it down. I couldn't feel her thumb. It wasn't there. She tightened her "fingers", and they hurt like what I knew they really were. She let out a ear-piercing shriek and her fingers and toes stretched and changed to green with pointy ends. Two of her teeth grew to fangs and the black hair turned transparent and foggy and began shimerring and twisting. Her hands and feet grew brown pelz and two huge bat wings unfurled.
Her long tounge wrapped around my neck and pulled it vorwärts-, nach vorn towards the massive canines.
"DIE", she giigled, "Urgh". she sighed. "Get her out", someone sagte and two men with long grey beards and raggedy clothes picked her up and shoved her out my hotel window. "You had better come with me boy", a man said. He wore mismatching socks and strand shorts with a large rugby hemd, shirt which horribly hung off his bony figure. He had a rough face and a long beard with old but kind blue eyes. In one hand he carried a large frying pan with a dent in it. "Come on we had better get Du back to the camp-"