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Nightmares

Nightmare #58 – Dangerous Surgery

(Male) This was a dream that had a whole world attached to it, all these things I just knew about this world which makes it rather hard to tell as a straight story.

The whole dream was set in the future, a time when it rained all the time and people seemed to live inside all the time under this really flat, gray light. The world was like a honeycomb of hallways, very institutional-feeling. Everybody wore these very drab gray jumpsuits that seemed to be very fragile, easily torn but then again very easily replaced. What’s coming to mind is that they must have been made out of recycled paper fibres but no one in the dream actually said that.

We were at war with this other society but what was strange was that both societies lived in the same hallways. The only way the different armies could be discerned was by their weapons. Get this: the weapons looked like water balloons but they had a tough enough skin that they could be stacked. There was one hallway that was stacked floor to ceiling with these water balloons. But the other army had their own water balloons, the only difference is that one army had balloons that were red while the other army had balloons that were blue. The weapons had the only bright colors in the whole place.

Since both societies basically looked like each other, we were suspicious of basically everyone all the time. The only way to really tell what side someone was on is if they were carrying a weapon. Through a passing conversation with a friend I knew and trusted, I learned that I had had some surgery as part of a very old military program, something that implanted a weapon inside me. I didn’t like the sound of that, though I thought it would be good to know once and for all which side I was on, which society I really belonged to. He mentioned an “address” which of course was a room number because no one went outside anymore.

I tried to get to the address. I didn’t know what to expect. Would the doctors remove the weapon? Would they program me to explode like a water balloon? Would I find the room empty and abandoned? While I was getting there, I must have made certain army officials suspicious of me. I had to run away from them, down the unfamiliar, indistinct corridors, turning here and there. Finally I got to the room and explained my situation to the doctors. They beat me up and kicked me when I collapsed on the floor. I tried to ask if they weren’t afraid that the weapon would detonate but all they said was “Ungrateful.”

Finally they dragged me over to an operating table. “We’ll take out the weapon. Then we’ll ship you off-world to a mining colony. How do you like that?”

The next thing I knew I was outside, running through the rain. It sizzled, stung a little, as it hit my skin. It was very dark. I ducked into an alley. There was another man there with a long black beard and a woman with snarled blond hair. They had had money once but had wasted it all and so now, they were escaping.

Categories
Nightmares

Nightmare #39 – The Subject of Secret Research

(Male, 30’s) I can’t remember the whole dream but after that ending, I woke up feeling quite shook up. The whole dream seemed to be about some kind of research project that had escaped and we were first of all, trying to find it and then second trying to destroy it before it killed all of us. The military was involved, probably in the “killing it before it killed us” part. The dream was a long, grueling exercise focused on brute survival mostly. The corridors we ran down were dark and narrow and made of cement. Finally, we heard something beneath us, moving underneath the cement floor. We cut a hole through the cement which was probably a good foot thick and found the soil underneath had eroded away. Probably 20 feet down were the shiny black tentacles of the monster we’d created. We’d found it. But just then the military guys started shooting the scientists, like it less important to destroy the monster and was more important to make sure that word of the monster didn’t get out. I was the last one to be killed. I didn’t want to beg; I didn’t know what kind of argument I could make for my life. I put my finger to the side of my head like I was miming shooting myself. That’s when I woke up.