"Slasher Movie-ish”
12/12/2006
(Lucid)
(This one actually started off exactly like 12/11’s journal entry, but it was so abstract - and long - that, even with my notes, I can hardly remember how all the elements came together.)
I was in the same classroom, same chair, and was having trouble with the same dude. I think we ended up become friends before the pencil incident even happened, this time. Again, most of the class went out and partied together but, this time, we ended up going to a house party at…my grandma’s house?
At some point, I remember looking for my uncle C, but was only able to find my other uncle L, and I think he was sleeping on the couch or something like that.
Anyway, later (and the weirdness begins...), there was apparently a killer running around. He was taking a lot of my classmates out, one by one, in standard “Scream/IKnowWhatYouDidLast/Halloween/The13th/onElmStreet” movie fashion. We spent most of the dream running for our lives; hiding; and periodically coming across the dead bodies of our friends, most of them gutted and/or skinned, leaving nothing but unidentifiable carcasses. We even started getting suspicious of one another because, even well into the night, we just couldn’t find who the hell was doing all the killing. Even so, I decided to stay with the largest group, thinking it’d be easier to look out for myself and each other. Some time during the night, someone that wasn’t in our group came running in (I think they were screaming, having just barely escaped the killer) and we all scattered, knowing the killer was probably on the way.
Most of us ran outside, heading out through the backyard. Coming away from the lights of the house, it was pitch black outside, and the backyard seemed to stretch on forever, like we were running into an endless void. Running from a savage maniac and into a space so dark that I couldn’t see the person in front of me brought about a sense of panic. This, though, also brought me to the realization that I was dreaming. It was a very low level of lucidity, though. I couldn’t even break the fear that I was feeling, knowing that there was someone trying to kill me (funny, how I can realize I'm dreaming but - when in the middle of an intense situation - forget how easy it would be to get out of, if I could calm down and put my mind to it.)
While running toward where I knew there were a bunch of trees standing, even though I could no longer see them, because the area was so dark, I didn’t even want to look over my shoulder, back toward the house, because I was in fear of what, not only who, might be right on my heels. I thought up a half-witted plan of killing two birds with one stone. I was going to, while running, charge up a ball of light between my hands, hoping that the glow would light the area while, at the same time, giving me something to use against this killer that I figured was right behind me.
I dipped my shoulders down, still at a full sprint, and brought my hands beside me, spaced apart as if I were holding a basketball between them. I kept trying to form this ball of energy. I tried over and over. I couldn’t even get a f*ckin' spark. My mind was just racing too much, and I couldn’t focus. I had no control, whatsoever. Then, just like that, lucidity was gone. The dream had shifted slightly, and I was in the middle of the woods. There was just enough light coming from [somewhere] to see a few feet around me.
There, in front of me, someone was leaning up against a tree, staring back at me. I could tell it was the guy that had been doing all the killing. The only thing I really remember about this part was that there was this strange black substance, almost like a liquid, with a soft green glow around it. This liquid was obviously “alive,” and it was swirling around this guy in thin, glowing strings. It reminded me of Spiderman/Venom/Carnage’s symbiote costumes, all thick and stringy, but with a green light surrounding it. It was going in and out of the guy’s eyes, ears and gaping mouth, and I could tell that it was controlling the man’s brain.
I wanted NOTHING to do with that shit, and I took off, running.
The dream shifted again, and it was day-time. I was now at my old Canterbury house, and I had some friends with me. Before I knew it, one of them was dead. The body lay sprawled across my porch, split from neck to navel, limbs twisted in an expression that could only describe complete agony at the time of death. We ended up back inside the house where we all came face-to-face with the killer. He had a knife in his hand but, with about 4 of us left, we were able to overpower him. I grabbed the knife and we threw him down on the bed. My friends pinned both his wrists and feet and I jumped on the bed and sat on his thigh, making sure he would go nowhere.
Having completely forgotten about all the supernatural shit (because of the dream shift, maybe?) I started taunting and torturing this guy (like I’ve always envisioned myself doing to one of these slasher-movie killers, if I ever got my hands on one - as do we all...) making him pay for all of the carnage he’d caused. In the middle of my (pretty damned satisfying) moments of terrorizing this guy, one of my friends looked out the window and said “Shit! Cops!”
There was no way in HELL I was letting this freak off, into police custody, so, with playtime coming to an end, I repeatedly stabbed this guy in the chest/stomach - I can’t even remember how many times – for about three seconds. And then we all ran outside to meet the cops and try to keep them from coming inside. I threw the knife down in the dirt, near the body on my porch. I don’t know why. I just sure as f*ck didn’t want to get caught holding it. If the issue came up, I’d just have to explain everything the best I could.
While we were outside, being questioned by the cops about the body that was on the ground, I looked over one cop’s shoulder and saw a car drive by, slowly at first. A mean leaned out the window a little and waved at us, smiling. It was the same man I’d just stabbed to death in my bedroom. He’d somehow gotten out the back door and was now getting away. I knew there would be no way to explain everything that happened, quick enough for the cops to do something about it.
Again, the dream shifted...
I was walking down the sidewalk with some friends of mine. It seemed like it was early morning. I was in about the middle of the group, some people both in front and behind me. I suddenly remembered the man on the loose and got a bad feeling. I quickly turned around and looked behind me just in time to see an unknown figure rush in and spear-tackle one of my friends into the trees lining the sidewalk. I ran back to them, knowing my friend was about to get slaughtered. It turned out to be a prank, though, another one of my boys rolling in the grass and laughing with the one that he’d just surprised the hell out of. Relieved, I laughed, turning back around to face the way we were originally walking toward…just in time to see another one of my friends lying on the ground, having been killed by the murderer, when my back was turned.
The same car rolled slowly by, the killer smiling enthusiastically and yelling something to me about how, sooner or later, he was going to get me (obviously excited about my having “killed” him once). He spoke as if he respected me as some sort of worthy opponent and, as he was pulling away said something about how he can’t wait for the sequel, suggesting that my subconscious considered this reminiscent of a slasher-movie, even before the dream was over.
12/12/2006
(Lucid)
(This one actually started off exactly like 12/11’s journal entry, but it was so abstract - and long - that, even with my notes, I can hardly remember how all the elements came together.)
I was in the same classroom, same chair, and was having trouble with the same dude. I think we ended up become friends before the pencil incident even happened, this time. Again, most of the class went out and partied together but, this time, we ended up going to a house party at…my grandma’s house?
At some point, I remember looking for my uncle C, but was only able to find my other uncle L, and I think he was sleeping on the couch or something like that.
Anyway, later (and the weirdness begins...), there was apparently a killer running around. He was taking a lot of my classmates out, one by one, in standard “Scream/IKnowWhatYouDidLast/Halloween/The13th/onElmStreet” movie fashion. We spent most of the dream running for our lives; hiding; and periodically coming across the dead bodies of our friends, most of them gutted and/or skinned, leaving nothing but unidentifiable carcasses. We even started getting suspicious of one another because, even well into the night, we just couldn’t find who the hell was doing all the killing. Even so, I decided to stay with the largest group, thinking it’d be easier to look out for myself and each other. Some time during the night, someone that wasn’t in our group came running in (I think they were screaming, having just barely escaped the killer) and we all scattered, knowing the killer was probably on the way.
Most of us ran outside, heading out through the backyard. Coming away from the lights of the house, it was pitch black outside, and the backyard seemed to stretch on forever, like we were running into an endless void. Running from a savage maniac and into a space so dark that I couldn’t see the person in front of me brought about a sense of panic. This, though, also brought me to the realization that I was dreaming. It was a very low level of lucidity, though. I couldn’t even break the fear that I was feeling, knowing that there was someone trying to kill me (funny, how I can realize I'm dreaming but - when in the middle of an intense situation - forget how easy it would be to get out of, if I could calm down and put my mind to it.)
While running toward where I knew there were a bunch of trees standing, even though I could no longer see them, because the area was so dark, I didn’t even want to look over my shoulder, back toward the house, because I was in fear of what, not only who, might be right on my heels. I thought up a half-witted plan of killing two birds with one stone. I was going to, while running, charge up a ball of light between my hands, hoping that the glow would light the area while, at the same time, giving me something to use against this killer that I figured was right behind me.
I dipped my shoulders down, still at a full sprint, and brought my hands beside me, spaced apart as if I were holding a basketball between them. I kept trying to form this ball of energy. I tried over and over. I couldn’t even get a f*ckin' spark. My mind was just racing too much, and I couldn’t focus. I had no control, whatsoever. Then, just like that, lucidity was gone. The dream had shifted slightly, and I was in the middle of the woods. There was just enough light coming from [somewhere] to see a few feet around me.
There, in front of me, someone was leaning up against a tree, staring back at me. I could tell it was the guy that had been doing all the killing. The only thing I really remember about this part was that there was this strange black substance, almost like a liquid, with a soft green glow around it. This liquid was obviously “alive,” and it was swirling around this guy in thin, glowing strings. It reminded me of Spiderman/Venom/Carnage’s symbiote costumes, all thick and stringy, but with a green light surrounding it. It was going in and out of the guy’s eyes, ears and gaping mouth, and I could tell that it was controlling the man’s brain.
I wanted NOTHING to do with that shit, and I took off, running.
The dream shifted again, and it was day-time. I was now at my old Canterbury house, and I had some friends with me. Before I knew it, one of them was dead. The body lay sprawled across my porch, split from neck to navel, limbs twisted in an expression that could only describe complete agony at the time of death. We ended up back inside the house where we all came face-to-face with the killer. He had a knife in his hand but, with about 4 of us left, we were able to overpower him. I grabbed the knife and we threw him down on the bed. My friends pinned both his wrists and feet and I jumped on the bed and sat on his thigh, making sure he would go nowhere.
Having completely forgotten about all the supernatural shit (because of the dream shift, maybe?) I started taunting and torturing this guy (like I’ve always envisioned myself doing to one of these slasher-movie killers, if I ever got my hands on one - as do we all...) making him pay for all of the carnage he’d caused. In the middle of my (pretty damned satisfying) moments of terrorizing this guy, one of my friends looked out the window and said “Shit! Cops!”
There was no way in HELL I was letting this freak off, into police custody, so, with playtime coming to an end, I repeatedly stabbed this guy in the chest/stomach - I can’t even remember how many times – for about three seconds. And then we all ran outside to meet the cops and try to keep them from coming inside. I threw the knife down in the dirt, near the body on my porch. I don’t know why. I just sure as f*ck didn’t want to get caught holding it. If the issue came up, I’d just have to explain everything the best I could.
While we were outside, being questioned by the cops about the body that was on the ground, I looked over one cop’s shoulder and saw a car drive by, slowly at first. A mean leaned out the window a little and waved at us, smiling. It was the same man I’d just stabbed to death in my bedroom. He’d somehow gotten out the back door and was now getting away. I knew there would be no way to explain everything that happened, quick enough for the cops to do something about it.
Again, the dream shifted...
I was walking down the sidewalk with some friends of mine. It seemed like it was early morning. I was in about the middle of the group, some people both in front and behind me. I suddenly remembered the man on the loose and got a bad feeling. I quickly turned around and looked behind me just in time to see an unknown figure rush in and spear-tackle one of my friends into the trees lining the sidewalk. I ran back to them, knowing my friend was about to get slaughtered. It turned out to be a prank, though, another one of my boys rolling in the grass and laughing with the one that he’d just surprised the hell out of. Relieved, I laughed, turning back around to face the way we were originally walking toward…just in time to see another one of my friends lying on the ground, having been killed by the murderer, when my back was turned.
The same car rolled slowly by, the killer smiling enthusiastically and yelling something to me about how, sooner or later, he was going to get me (obviously excited about my having “killed” him once). He spoke as if he respected me as some sort of worthy opponent and, as he was pulling away said something about how he can’t wait for the sequel, suggesting that my subconscious considered this reminiscent of a slasher-movie, even before the dream was over.
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