running. fear and sweat were mixing to form  horrible aroma in the air.  tristan tripped on something, and the demons behind began to catch up. he looked at what he had tripped over, an axe. it seemed to speak to him. ghostly tones whispered on the wind to him "use me..." tristan hefted the axe. it was heavy for its size, and it gave off a faint aura of of something evil and unholy. suddenly, they were upon him, tristan swung the axe at them, and was rewarded with roars of pain and misery. he swung again and again, but there were too many, he was going to die here. "this isn't fair....  i'm only thirteen, and i'm supposed to fight off the forces of this godforsaken place...?" he wondered as claws pierced his chest. blood spurted from his wounds, and more hands tried to grab him."NO! IT ISN'T FAIR" he cried aloud as more and more rips and tears appeared in his flesh. he dropped to the ground, bleeding profusely. tristan suddenly sat upright in his bed, "it was just a dream...." he thought "just a dream...."