I was in a tiny bedroom. It felt like a second story bedroom, the kind just under the roof in an old house where the ceiling slants inward to make the room feel even smaller. It was poorly lit, possible near night. I was packing up an old satchel for a journey. The satchel was one of those old leather bags like doctors might carry in the olden days. It was sitting on the bed. Every time I turned around to get something else to put into the satchel, when I turned back whatever I had just put into it had been taken out and placed next to the satchel on the bed. It was both irritating and pretty creepy.
At this point, somehow I was able be inside the dream and also look at myself in the dream. From this vantage point I realized that there were also two other people in the room with me. These men were dressed in boring brown suits. They were some kind of police men, some kind of detectives, I guess. They chatted aimlessly about the personal life of one of them while they picked up and examined every item. They weren’t particularly interested in the items nor were they doing a particularly careful job of examining things. They had been cloaked somehow with some kind of technology that allowed them to be in the same room as someone even to talk in a normal voice without that person seeing or hearing them.
Not only were these two fat detectives in this tiny, private bedroom the door posts were these weird sculptures. They were a roiling mass of snake-like forearms and hands. They were able to reach out and grab at you if you tried to go through the door. One of the hands had been painted gold and for some reason, that one was the most terrifying of them all.
…”We were living in this sprawling country farmhouse and had invited the neighbors and basically everyone we knew who were still alive for a potluck.”
I dreamed about what I guess was a virus or something. It would affect people without any warning. One minute the person would be fine and the next, horribly afflicted. The symptoms were horrific and disgusting. The sufferer’s skin would break out in huge sores that would pop like bubbles on the surface of boiling water. Literally, the skin would turn liquid and the person would dissolve in front of your eyes. The whole course of the virus took only a couple minutes so you could very easily watch someone melt away while you were, say, standing side by side, waiting for an elevator. The most horrible part came next, though. Within a couple more moments, the sufferer would be reconstituted, better than before, even their clothes would be cleaner as if the virus used every bit of matter even the dirt when building its monster. I say monster because this beautiful creature that appeared resembled the person but it would attack and devour whoever was standing closest to them, all with this wide, terrifying grin.
I witnessed this transformation at a wedding. It must have been in the early days of the outbreak because people didn’t know enough to avoid crowds. The virus struck the father of the bride. One moment he was standing at the altar with this daughter, the next he was a puddle of goop on the floor and the next he was radiantly dressed in a glowing white suit, his gray hair now slightly tinged with yellow blond. He reached out into the audience and grabbed someone at random whom he started to rend to pieces and devour.
We didn’t know how the virus spread but we knew it was susceptible to microwaves of a very specific frequency. I had a small, hand-held device that would neutralize all the of the virus within my general proximity. The hypothesis was that we might be able to kill the virus in the resurrected person and that the person might be OK, maybe a little messed up in the head after what they’re been up to but physically OK. This was an untested hypothesis though. I was sent in to the place where the wedding had been, or maybe it was just where an outbreak had occurred. There were still pockets of the crowds huddled around the grounds of the hotel, maybe a very glamorous church. I located the area where the target was. It was up a soaring flight of stairs that had no railing and that opened into the very spacious entry area of this hotel. Sunlight streamed in the plate glass windows that ran from the floor up several stories. I carefully walked up the stairs. At the top of the stairs were two preachers I knew years and years ago. They had their arms reached out in blessing. They spoke to me as if I would be doing some kind of exorcism when all I really was going to do was a scientific test. A test that would result in me being torn apart and eaten if it didn’t work. But the gist of what they were saying was that it would be the patient’s choice to get better and if it didn’t work, I shouldn’t blame myself.
Then I saw the creature coming around the corner through a pair of open double doors. It wasn’t the father of the bride I had seen before, it was actually a woman I knew. She looked statuesque, immense, regal like some of the portraits of Queen Victoria I’ve seen. But instead of a sceptre she held a tiny baby, her daughter even though her actual daughter is much older. She seemed to float instead of walk which was particularly uncanny for how large she looked.
She approached. I didn’t know what to do.
(Male) I was at a farm, along with an aunt and uncle of mine and a whole family of people from the neighborhood where I grew up. In the dream, they had just been featured on a television commercial for fast food tacos. For some reason we didn’t stay in the farmhouse but rather in the barn, and mostly in the cement silo. A spiral walkway had been rigged around the outside to allow us access to the living spaces higher up in the silo. When we left the silo, we were always looking over our shoulders, being careful of our surroundings. I walked through the farm yard with my aunt and uncle. My uncle showed me a new harrow he had bought. It looked exactly like his old harrow, which also looked like a toy I had had as a child.
…The area was over-run with zombies, but a kind I’d never exactly seen before…
The reason why we were so conscious of what went on around us, of course, were the zombies. The area was over-run with zombies, but a kind I’d never exactly seen before. They were gray and wrinkly like a prune from top to bottom. When they moved, clouds of dusty dirt flaked off them, like dustbowl golems. They didn’t seem much like animated corpses, though they were humanoid and extremely slow moving. However, the zombies were very powerful and it was impossible to get away if one caught you. The one fact we had in our favor was that the zombies weren’t able to climb, not stairs or ladders or even up the spiral ramp around the side of our silo. We were safe as long as we stayed on the second story. However, we had to keep the zombie population under control like they were an agricultural pest or something.
It was night. I was downstairs in the barn, around the stalls where we once kept cattle. I didn’t see the zombie until I had almost walked into it. He growled, low, deep, elemental. Before I knew it, there was another one behind me. I started to panic but I got out the handgun I carried in the dream and I shot both zombies. The first one collapsed into a pile of gray sand at least a yard high. The second one kept moving. Suddenly, I became aware of other zombies all around me. If I kept my head and kept moving I could likely get around them all. I started running and just as I cleared the barn, my foot slipped. I woke up.
I was at a summer camp area for grown ups with those typical uninsulated, wooden cabins and a large meeting building that had lots of windows. The person in charge of the camp raised bees, normal, safe, honey-producing bees. They seemed almost domesticated, peaceful. But there was some kind of threat from up the road, or further out in the county from more violent, invasive bees. The person in charge of the camp could tell this somehow by a little crust of honeycomb he found on one of the paths. The bees knew there was something up too since they all took to flight and there was a very loud and intense buzzing sound everywhere. We all gathered in the meeting hall – probably two dozen men and women – and kept looking up the road for the invasion to happen. But I looked behind us, to the garden area where I saw these huge spiders advancing on us in huge hops. The spiders were probably two meters across with hairy arms striped black and a vivid yellow green. I yelled to alert our troops but the spiders had already started to spray our building with web. But either it was a strange kind of web or it dissolved when it contacted the honey because the webs dissolved and the liquid poured down the windows, trapping the dead soldiers in a clear wall of something that felt like liquid glass. As it hardened, this glass-like substance gave off fumes that sort of drove people crazy. Everyone who had survived stripped off all their clothes and started running around naked, yelling with great excitement about the important things they were going to do with their lives, now that they’d survived this attack. One by one, they ran out of the building, which I didn’t think was a good idea mostly because I wasn’t certain that the battle was over. Then a marrionette entered from the back of the building, from the door where the survivors had exited. He was probably three feet tall and was dressed like an SS Nazi field officer. I knew that couldn’t be good so I jumped on him and easily over-powered him (killed him? Can you really kill a marionette?) Just inside his jacket I found a folded up piece of heavy paper that had the invasion plans. But before I could open it up, I woke.