Bitter-Sweet Dreams

I dream of the same thing every night since last month. It starts with pain, lots and lots of pain. Then it gets hot, exactly like an oven. Then, I'm running, running close to the ground at high speed. I can feel the gravel crunch under my leathery palms as I realize I'm running on all fours. I slow down and crouch as I see a figure in black and white. The figure is walking away from me, down a familiar street near my house. My entire frame shakes as I realize I'm actually growling. I lunge at the figure. It, whatever it was, screams as I tear at it with my razor sharp claws and canine teeth. The figure falls to the ground, and I silence it with a hard bite to the neck. I taste the rust-salt flavor of blood as it sprays out of the severed jugular. The figure jerks for a few more seconds before laying as still as a statue at my feet. I look left to gaze at my reflection on the door of a shiny silver car. Staring back at me is a creature unlike anything I've ever seen before: huge, canine, with a patchy gray and black fur-coat, blood dripping off the muzzle, my gray stone pendant around my neck like a collar. A dog of some kind, no.. (I hate saying this because it sounds so Twilight) a.. werewolf. Then I wake up at precisely two ten in the morning, my entire body feeling battered and drained. I grumble and try to get the most of the three hours and fifty minutes left of sleep before school.... I said bitter-sweet because it's better than having no dreams at all.