Mary fought to keep her eyes open. She felt so good on this bed, so wonderfully comfortable. Maybe she was already dreaming.

Anthony continued to transform in front of her. Tufts of hair
grew out of his ears. His lower jaw stretched forward out of
his face. His eyes pulsed red. Mary, or the dream-time Mary,
or whoever she was at this moment, knew that she should do something. But Mary couldn't move. She was so wonderfully, wonderfully comfortable.

Anthony tilted his head back and howled. It was a gentle,
reverberating echo in Mary's head, like blue waves lapping
against the shore. He seemed to be grinning as he opened
his mouth, revealing spiky rows of ivory teeth, and bit
into her neck.

Mary couldn't help herself. She moaned softly as the
blood flowed out of her, not caring if Anthony heard it
or not. It was an exquisite dream, so wonderfully,
wonderfully comfortable...