screaming , whirling , beating at his head and neck with his leech-encrusted hands , patrick hockstetter 's mind yammered : it is n't real , it 's just a bad dream , do n't worry , it 's not real , nothing is real - but the blood pouring from the smashed leeches seemed real enough , the sound of their buzzing wings seemed real enough ... and his own terror seemed real enough .