“…The party was getting loud and out of hand… Then I heard a gunshot…”
Tag: violence
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Nightmare #260 – Zombie Kill DIY
“…they hurried after me and got in too before the doors closed…”
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Nightmare #254 – Hunted Down
heard them coming up behind, on either side;
“…This was somehow supposed to comfort the general populace…”
“…I was alone. Alone with them…”
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Nightmare #238 – Flesh-Eating Mutants
(Female, 50’s) First of all, when I told my partner about this nightmare about zombies, he told me they weren’t zombies. So what the hell were they? Second, this dream was weird because it seemed to take place over days, maybe even weeks. Like I woke up and went to sleep and lived whole DAYS in this dream. The other weird thing about this dream was the depth of emotions I experienced during it. I felt things. Like really, really scared. And really, sad. And then really depressed.
In this dream, some friends were visiting us, and it was evening– just getting dark out. Not friends we really have, and we didn’t live in our real house, but in this cottage-like structure. Their van was parked in our driveway, and they were getting ready to leave. They were a couple and their three little kids; one was already buckled in his carseat. The husband stepped over to say hello to one of the neighbors.
“…there was nothing that could be done about the monsters. People went on with their lives…”
Then in the distance down the street, there came this band of marauding flesh-eating mutant humans. They attacked every human they saw and simply tore them apart. We watched for a moment, horrified– the woman and I– and then I called her two children, a boy and a girl, to me. She hopped in the back of the van and tried to get the child out of the carseat. I scooped up the other two children in my arms and ran into the house. I waited at the door, calling “Hurry, hurry” but it was too late. A monster reached into the van and pulled the woman out, and I covered the children’s eyes as the monsters tore her apart. I closed and locked the door, and then I started shutting and locking all the windows and pulling the curtains shut. The little girl wandered over to a window, and there was a monster on the other side. The monster said, “There’s a living one in there” and tried to reach in so I quickly pulled the girl away and shut the window and the curtain, and then I moved the the center of the room and made the children sit still on my lap. Then the monsters couldn’t see us any more.
So a few patterns emerged: They only came out at night. They could only see you if you moved. They could talk to each other, but they weren’t smart or organized enough to get into houses; they only caught people outside. They didn’t change the people they caught into monsters like them but tore them to shreds and ate them. The next day the father came to pick up the kids, and they went home. It was so sad and so scary.
But the weird thing was that people seemed to cope. There was nothing that could be done about the monsters, but people went on with their lives. Like, our teenage daughter went to college every day and to her job– just making sure to be inside by dark. My husband drove her somewhere that took longer than they’d planned so they stayed overnight to be safe, but I was so worried about them and so relieved when they came home the next day.
For the most part, life went on, although there were occasional deaths in the community because people forgot the rules and stayed out too late after dark. Everyone else was managing, but I was frightened and worried all the time. Really sad. And really depressed. I couldn’t see any point in doing anything anymore.
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Nightmare #237 – Party Gone Wrong
(Male, 30’s) I was with a group of friends, not people I actually know but within the dream, we were friends. We were tight, almost a gang. A half dozen or so. Maybe a few more. We were living inside an abandoned warehouse.
At one point, we were sitting around an old wooden table. There was an empty plate sitting in the middle of the table and then this strange whistling sound started. It’s like it was coming from the plate somehow. We picked it up and found there was a current of air coming from a hole in the floor, like a heating duct or something and that was making the edges of the plate ring like a bell.
“…these two were ritually murdering gang member for some kind of black magic…”
It was night. Actually it was night all the way through this dream but it came time to go to sleep. We had lit a fire on the dirt floor of the warehouse but it had pretty much died out. I tried to get it going again so we wouldn’t be cold. It was almost entirely burnt out. There were just a few very tiny embers buried in this large mound of ash. I sifted through it, trying to find these tiny embers since I hoped I could find enough to kindle a fire. Instead, I found a set of keys. The keyring was brass and had a stylized portrait of Saint Francis on it. It sifted through the ash and found more sets of keys. I knew immediately that these each belonged to former gang members who’d been murdered.
Just then, two of the other members, that is, two of my friends pulled out huge hunting knives and started toward me. I had discovered their secret. I had a knife too but there were two of them. I slowly edged around, trying to keep an eye on both of them while trying to exit and run off into the night. For some reason I knew that these two were ritually murdering gang members for some kind of black magic or something. I was climbing up on a stack of boxes which would have put me closer to a an open window when I woke up.
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Nightmare #230 – Shot AGAIN
(Male, 40’s) Twice this week, I’ve had dreams that involved being shot or nearly shot with a handgun. I have woken up with my heart just pounding. The second one wasn’t very remarkable apart from getting shot – I should probably mention that I don’t own a handgun and I’ve never been shot, nor is it one of my great fears.
However.
“…I get him to put the knife down…”
In the first nightmare, I am visiting my grandmother’s house, a grandmother who’s been dead for decades now. Her house was never in a great part of town and it’s only gotten worse, like far worse over time. I am responsible for cleaning out her stuff, all her furniture and belongings. When I go to the door my daughter greets me and I’m a little shocked that she’s there and not at college. I ask her if she’s alone in the house and she says no. And then I ask if she’s safe. She shakes her head like she’s answering a different question, “Oh Daddy, it’s not like that at all.” I ask her to go and wait outside with her mom in the car. I enter the house and the first thing I notice is that there is a huge whole in one wall like someone has driven a car into it. And there’s a man with a knife. I ask him if he’s OK. I offer to get him some food. I get him to put the knife down. I explain that I’ve got to get rid of the stuff in the house. And he starts acting as if it all belongs to him simply because he’s in the house. I simply reach over and take the knife from where he’s set it down and I throw it behind me because in a fair fight I’m pretty sure I could take this guy. “No, you don’t own any of this stuff and you better get moving before I call the cops.” He says he’s got a gun in his pocket, which I think is pretty unlikely but I don’t want to take the chance so I jump him. We wrestle. He’s trying to get his hand in his pocket. I keep hitting him, trying to knock him out. All of a sudden a shot is fired. I don’t hear it as much as I feel it shooting straight through my heart. It felt more like I was getting an electric shock. I woke up with my heart simply racing, pounding hard like I actually had been in a fight.
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Other Haunts – Morbid Gnomes
What else could the Grim Gnome do but grin when confronted with these statues of self-destructive garden gnomes? They depict scenes of grievous bodily harm, like an arrow skewering the head, a sword impaling the heart, swallowing the barrel of a handgun, all depicted with the maniacal glee one expects of a garden gnome. Collect ’em all!
( Or http://www.amazon.co.uk/s?ie=UTF8&x=0&ref_=nb_ss_lp&y=0&field-keywords=dead%20gnome&url=search-alias%3Doutdoor )
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Nightmare #221 – Well Armed Vacation
“…every adult who came into the county had a loaded hand gun with them at all times…”
(Male, 30’s) I was taking my family on vacation, a good old-fashioned pack-up-the-station-wagon, let’s-go-camping kind of family vacation. We drove to this wooded, semi-rural area and when we stopped at the tourist station / ranger post, a man in a uniform warned us that there was a known serial killer operating in this county. He’d killed at least 26 people and stolen at least 13,000 dollars. In fact, the authorities knew exactly who it was but they didn’t want to proceed on the case until they were certain they could have a case that would stand up in court. It was too important a case to have the guy just walk free on a technicality. In the meantime, the authorities were making sure that every adult who came into the county had a loaded hand gun with them at all times. My wife had never shot a hand gun, at least she hadn’t in the dream, and I was a little uncomfortable carrying around an unfamiliar firearm, especially not off into the wilds of this rural county. Anyway, off we go. We stopped in a store for supplies and the woman behind the counter was a little concerned. At first I thought it was because I was carrying a gun in her store, but actually it was because she’d been warned that the serial killer was headed in the direction of the store. Just then the door opened and she yelled “That’s him!” So I guess I shot at him. So did the store woman and I think my wife even got a few rounds off. Then we realized that it was just Bill, an old friend of mine who I haven’t seen in years. Thankfully, none of our bullets had landed anywhere near their mark.
Now I’m awake though, I wonder if we were supposed to think that my friend Bill actually WAS the serial killer. Anyway, it was one of those dreams where it seemed pretty clear that I was going to get killed one way or another, either by the serial killer or by some jackass shooting at me. Both funny and scary at the same time.
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Nightmare #218 – Elevator Attack
(Male, 40’s) This was just a quick little nightmare I had after pushing the snooze alarm today. Got my heart racing.
“…The blond guy with the spiky hair grinned like he was going to take pleasure in killing me…”
I was in an unfamiliar city and I had just gotten on an elevator. I was alone and I counted the money in my wallet. Four ones and a five which I figured was enough for lunch. At the next floor a young man gets on. He’s a lot younger than I am and he has spiky blond hair. Instead of facing the door of the elevator, he just stares at me, right in my face. At the next floor another young man gets on, one with black hair and a black t-shirt as I remember. The blond guy pulls out a knife. It’s a stubby triangular shaped blade, easy to conceal, one that could do a lot of damage easily. “We’ll take your money,” he said. I sized them up and figured these punks were like half my age.
“All I’ve got is nine bucks”
“That won’t be anywhere near enough.” The blond guy with the spiky hair grinned like he was going to take pleasure in killing me. And then before I really knew what I was doing, I punched the blond guy as hard as I could in his Adam’s apple. He collapsed to his knees, suffocating. Then I grabbed the guy in the black t-shirt and pushed his chest onto the triangular knife. There was blood everywhere. At the next floor, I got off the elevator. The two guys weren’t dead yet but they were definitely in their death throes. I was still lost in a strange city and I had just murdered two men.
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Nightmare #213 – Crime Gone Wrong
“…The other men were dead, shot in the head…”
(Male, 40’s) Last night I dreamed: I was in some caper with two friends and an out of towner. We stole some money, or played a harmless but elaborate trick on someone I’m not sure; the kind of “crime” that gets you on Jay Leno instead of cell block 4. Anyway, the one new guy- our hired schemer was funny, and charming and after the whole game was played and we met back at the agreed place, we shook hands to make our congenial get away, he reached into his coat and shot the other two grinning guys, and he shot me twice in the back. I felt it. It was shocking, like being hit hard with a phone book with a nail in it. I fell face down. He stepped over to me and set the gun down in my palm, so I could finish myself off. With his finger he tapped the back of my head, “Just here, can you do it?” I just nodded. I heard his footsteps move down the hallway. I was in pain, but I rolled over, and sat up. The other men were dead, shot in the head. I took the gun and wondered if I would screw it up. The gun was a tiny silver .22 with red trim, like something you’d see in an arcade. I could feel my insides, damaged, no blood yet, but a terrible soreness, and it was getting hard to breathe.
I went out to my car and drove to a friend’s house. Her name is Dawn. She was outside busy on her cell phone, so I had to wait till she got off to tell her I was probably going to die. I felt happy, and sleepy. I began coughing up what looked like red oatmeal, so think I couldn’t talk afterwards. She hung up, and ran off to a nearby hospital to see if anyone could come get me. I sat on the dark street, and lay down on my side, then rolled over on my face- this is how I sleep at night and felt the cool wet blacktop. The pain was less, but the weakness overcame me. I could people yelling and footsteps, but it all seemed very far away
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Nightmare #211 – Kidnapped Daughter
(Male, 50’s) I dreamed that my daughter had been kidnapped and the kidnappers were threatening to kill her. In real life my daughter is grown up and on her own but in the dream she was much younger, in high school. She had long hair. There were no ransom demands. The kidnapper didn’t seem to want anything apart from someone to kill. For some reason, we knew that the kidnapper was going to blow her up with a bomb he had draped around her neck like a necklace.
“…There were no ransom demands…”
The real nightmarish part of the dream was what I felt. I spoke with the police. I was certain that the kidnapper didn’t know that someone cared about the girl he had, that she was someone’s daughter. I asked the police if we couldn’t find someway to substitute her for another girl, for someone that no one cared about, someone that no one would miss. It seemed so reasonable in my dream but I’m sick to my stomach thinking about it now I’m awake.
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Nightmare #209 – Intruder Alert
(Male, 40’s) Strange dream, really violent but most important it was really detailed and vivid. Strange flashbacks to the past.
“…Here I am talking like I’m a big tough guy..”
It took place on the street where I grew up but sort of in the present day. Literally on the street, not in the houses, though I was living in one of the houses. It wasn’t the house I grew up in and in fact there were no houses like the one in my dream on this street. I had met up with a friend I knew from 20 years ago. It was in the afternoon and he said we should go someplace and get lunch. He was going to drive but I just wanted to make sure my door was locked and that I should pick up a hoodie.
When I went back to my house, which was a ranch style house, very modern with its entire yard a cement slab, I found that the side door was not only unlocked but open. I kicked it open and said, “OK fuckers. Come on out.” (Here I am talking like I’m a big tough guy.) I could see someone sitting at my computer which in the dream was one of those cute little iMacs from years back, the ones that were candy-colored. This guy stands up and he is a physical double for Lurch, the butler from the Addams Family TV show. He’s wearing a flannel shirt with a brown plaid pattern. He advanced on me and I grab him by the front of his shirt and sort of catapult him over top of me. He lands in a pile on the cement but gets right back up and charges at me again. Again I grab him by the front of his shirt and this time I toss him down a short flight of stairs that must have led to the basement. This time though as he’ll getting up I slip off one of my shoes and hit him repeatedly in the face with my heel. He goes down and out.
Like an idiot, I rush inside the house to find the other guy that I just *know* is there. I open the door to my kitchen and there he is. And this guy looks like Bruce Lee. Well, to be honest he looked like Bruce Lee if he lived to middle age and put on a few pounds. I mean, he still looked dangerous but he just looked a bit more manageable. But for some reason I can’t understand, this Bruce Lee guy decides to shoot at me. He’s got some kind of hand gun that apparently has an inexhaustible supply of bullets but that isn’t very powerful. I’m able to hide behind a wood door and not get hit. Then I hear him kick out a window and I look just in time to see him diving out this window. I go after him and again he starts shooting at me. So with my legs dangling out of the window, I kick him. And at that point I wake up.
As I write this down what’s striking are all the pop culture references. I really want to go back and watch “Enter the Dragon” now.
(Male, 40’s) This is another nightmare I had while I was battling the worst cold I’ve had in years. Feverish dreams are wild!
“”…everything was a front for the Mob..”
I operated a little shop of some kind in a canvas tent pitched in a parking lot beside a highway. There were big bags of coffee beans and by big, I mean probably 50 pounds or so. There also were different kinds of spices and bags of food like it all had been directly imported from other countries.
And everything was a front for the Mob. Though it wasn’t explained in the dream, the set up sounds like there were drugs or guns being smuggled in with the coffee and other items. My position was extremely tenuous. There was really no reason to have an outsider like me so intimately involved with Mob work and I knew it. It was only a matter of time until I was killed. The Mob guys would show up every couple days, cut open a bag of coffee, spill the beans everywhere and then take off. There would be someone holding a gun on me in case I wanted to make some kind of an objection. This one time the Mob people show up and they’ve got someone with them. In fact, it’s someone I work with, a nice enough guy. He chats with me, totally oblivious to the danger he’s in. He’s amazed that I run an import shop in addition to the other job. Then the Mob guys grab him and force him to his knees and without saying anything they shoot him to death right there in front of me. I am simply terrified. Shocked and terrified. I don’t know what to do. The Mob guys back out of the tent. I don’t know if I should run or call the police or what.
Then all of a sudden I’m in an apartment building. I get the sense that it’s also entirely owned by the Mob. I’m in one of the rooms possibly a room where I live and I look out of the door just in time to see a couple Mob guys drag another guy I know up the stairs and thrown him on the landing face down. They put these weights on his arms. The weights look like big coffee cans with a handle on the top. The guy is unconscious. One of the Mob guys prepares a syringe of something, maybe heroin for all I know. Then he backs up and makes like he’s going to throw the syringe like a dart. That part makes me cringe.
All of a sudden he realizes that I’m there, that I’ve been watching everything from just a couple feet away. He turned toward me and started walking. I backed up and at that instant I woke up.
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Nightmare #207 – Apocalypse Party
![By brewbooks from near Seattle, USA (The Rubble pile - Garden Rubble Project) [CC-BY-SA-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons](https://dailynightmare.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/04/Flickr_-_brewbooks_-_The_Rubble_pile_-_Garden_Rubble_Project.jpg)
(Male, 40’s) The last few days, I’ve had the worst cold I’ve had in years. Sweats, chills, sore throat, the works. There’s nothing like a nice fever to spike up the nightmares. This is one I had last night. I’ll send you another one too.
“…And of course, we were fighting for our lives….”
This nightmare STARTED after an apocalypse of some kind. Most of the world had been leveled into rubble. All the buildings as far as I could see were knocked flat and crushed. I just had the sense that I was in the last building left intact anywhere in the world. And the people in this building were the last humans. We were a weird group. It was sort of like a random collection of people you might get at a train station or a bus terminal. Little clumps of us were related to each other or knew each other but there was nothing in common really about the group as a whole. There was four or five guys, who wore overalls and straw hats, who looked like a cartoon cliche of a jug band. A couple of them were really muscular, a couple were pretty overweight. There was another group of women who I think were speaking Italian to each other. On and on like that, little clusters of people. I was on my own though, all alone. There were tables with white table cloths and punchbowls, though it didn’t seem like there was any food. Maybe we’d already eaten it all or maybe it had never been put out. Weird party. Weird collection of people.
And of course, we were fighting for our lives.
The earth had evidently been invaded by creatures from another world. And by creatures, I mean exactly two. They were remarkably human-shaped, except for a couple key differences. One is that their heads were oriented 180 degrees backward which was incredibly unnerving. They were both bald, with extremely pale skin that glowed slightly. And they were really rather fat, like some of those statues of Buddha. At one point in the dream I saw them at the end of a hallway and I was seriously terrified. They saw me and invited me to take an elevator ride with them to the top of the building. There was nothing for me to hide behind, if that would have even done any good. I was in plain sight and they could have disintegrated me. But I declined. They chuckled to each other and got on the elevator.
The humans somehow thought we could fight these beings. We tried to come up with a plan, some strategy but before we could get ready the beings just appeared through the walls. We were thrown around, killed, exploded. There wasn’t any hope we could win. And then someone poured a bucket of water on one of these creatures. It sizzled, like short circuiting electricity and melted like the wicked witch of the west. The other being backed up toward a wall of windows, terrified by us for a change. Then it disappeared.
The last part of the dream was like the closing sequence of a movie. The camera pulled back and revealed the same building we’d all been in. It had been rebuilt and was full of people. The camera pulled back even further and showed that the whole city had been rebuilt. It was like the camera was in a helicopter and it was giving traffic reports. Humans had survived and rebuilt the world pretty much exactly as we did the first time.
I bet this one slipped by the leftist media cultural elitists:
Man Bites and Chews Off Part of Another Man’s Arm!
Much of the commentary that’s appeared on the blogosphere surrounding this event assumes that the attacker was a zombie. OK, fine, fair enough. I see the resemblance at least to the early Romero-style zombies. Some nit-picking kill-joys were hung up on the fact that the attacker didn’t go for the guy’s brains.
But let’s back up for a moment. It’s it terrifying enough to think that this guy came up out of nowhere and bit a chunk out of someone’s arm? Isn’t it even a bit creepier in fact that the guy WASN’T a zombie?
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Nightmare #338 – Ceramic Death
“…And he jumped on the intruder and slashed at his throat…”
(Male, 30’s) A buddy of mine told me this dream. He’s a ceramicist, an artist who makes pots and jugs and cups and that kind of stuff. In his dream he had just finished making a vessel with this beautiful shino glaze. (I didn’t ask him for particulars but I looked it up on-line and a shino glaze is supposed to be an exceptionally warm and rich glaze, one that’s rather difficult to pull off flawlessly.) He’s always telling me about how deadly some of the chemicals are that he works with. Radioactive. Poisonous. Even the clay itself turns into a fine powder that collects in his lungs and will eventually kill him from cillicosis.
In his dream, an intruder broke into his house. So my friend smashed this vessel with the beautiful glaze and he took one of the larger fragments, one with a particularly sharp edge. And he jumped on the intruder and slashed at his throat. The pottery shard tore into the intruder more effectively than a knife; it hacked him open. He just went limp, dead in my friend’s arms. I asked if there was any blood and no, the particularly odd thing was there was an almost entire absence of blood.
(Female, 40’s) This dream was so weird– so strange and violent– that I really don’t know what to make of it.
“…I saw nothing that I could use to kill the man…”
It started out that I was hiding with another woman in a closet-like space. There was a panel near the floor that opened into a hallway. We were being very quiet, cowering in the corner, as far as possible away from the opening. We could hear running in the hallway, men in boots, like soldiers maybe, the clank of guns. When it quieted down, we tried to peek out, but we were seen. We scrambled back into the dark corners of the little room while men hustled to the opening and started reaching in with their arms, trying to grab at us. There was cart coming down the hall so they had to move back. Then they were called away, so they left us.
We looked out again and saw two of our friends, sneaking down the now-empty hallway. We scurried out and joined them, sliding along the walls, eyes darting around. We came to a room, with two glass doors, so we went in, locking the doors behind us. This area appeared to be a sound studio or something like that. We thought we were safe because the doors were locked, but we were wrong.
We went down the hallway and found that the room opened up into a large warehouse. A line of soldiers were pointing guns at me, as a large man advanced toward me. I knew that in order to escape, I had to kill him. He grabbed at me and I ran behind him, jumping up on his back and trying to strangle him. I needed a knife. I looked over at a table top, which was covered with the contents of someone’s junk drawer (which looked much like my junk drawer in the kitchen)– rubber bands, twistie ties, batteries, a bent spoon, shoe laces, an odd cheese knife– and saw nothing that I could use to kill the man.
Then I saw a pair of sheers with an orange plastic handle, much like the sheers we own. I could slit his throat with the sheers, I knew. I couldn’t watch what I was about to do– in fact, I think I closed my eyes in my dream! I opened the sheers and drew the edge of the blade across the man’s throat. I knew it would take several strokes to kill him. With my eyes shut tight, I could feel the blood leaking from his neck. My hands were covered with warm sticky blood. It was awful, but I knew it was my only way out.
(Female, 40’s) I was shopping in this dream. But I was shopping in the weirdest place I’d ever seen. This “shopping district” was a winding darn alley that looked like a cross between a horror movie set and a Dickens novel. There was a dark and damp, curving pedestrian pathway between these irregularly shaped stores, sitting close together. I swear there were gas lamps.
I went into a shoe store and spent some time trying on shoes. It was like Payless– a self-serve place. I was in the back of the store trying on boots when a man came up behind me and knocked me down, so I was sprawled on my stomach with my arms and legs sticking out. Very graceful. He knelt on my back with one knee and held something sharp against my back. He said, “Don’t move or I’ll have to hurt you.” I said, “Go ahead, you can take all my money.” “Of course I can,” he replied.
I thought about pushing him up and knocking him off my back. And beating him up. I was pretty sure I could do that. But I was worried about the lone clerk in the store, up by the front counter. She might get hurt. So I didn’t do anything. The robber was getting heavy. I kept thinking about what I should do. Then I woke up.