Only a dream, he thinks, lying back down again. Only a dream, thank God.
But when he opens the church doors that morning, the morning of Homecoming Sunday,
the morning after the full moon, it is no dream he sees; it is the gutted body of
Clyde Corliss, who has done janitorial work for years, hanging face-down over the
pulpet . His push-broom leans close by.

None of this is a dream; the Rev. Lowe only wishes it could be. He opens his mouth,

hitches in a great, gasping breath, and begins to scream.

Spring has come back again-and this year, the Beast has come with it.

May