It was a power struggle with Satan.  Was I his second in command trying to take over, or good?  I don't even know.  I don't remember who or what else was done; just the last scene.  My room, fairly bare.  Pools and puddles of dark blood coagulating in various spots on the floor.  Opposite from me, beneath the window, was a bare mattress, with a soul on it.  My classmate Elvis.  A wrought iron rod impaled through the top of his head.  His eyes wide open, stained red with blood.  Looking him over more to the right, he has no body below the waist.  Someone else comes in, but I do not see them; my eyes are glued to Elvis.  The torso lifts up, stares me down.  Falls back to the mattress.  I shudder in fear.  Stupid to think he was alive after that.  It was a death twitch.  Several minutes later, another.  I want to run but want to avoid the blood but want to stay with Elvis.  I'm frozen in confusion of the death and destruction.  I just shake, bawl a little in shock.  I try to quickly pick my way through the blood pools out the door.  I can't look anymore.