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Brief DILD event in last sleep period: I was at home, and stepped out of the library to find what I thought must be catsick all over the hallway. It was confusing, though, because it occurred in distinct splats all over a wide area, almost forming a lattice pattern, and there seemed to be way too much of it to come from the cat. Then I noticed that there was a hole in the ceiling, as though something had burst through. Was this something that had fallen through the roof from outside? Or something that had been lodged under the roof and had now fallen through the ceilling? And what the hell was it? It was beige and chunky, and sure did look like cat vomit. It was spread over such a wide area that I couldn't help but step in some as I passed through the hall, and I was even more disturbed to feel a tiny movement under my toes. Oh my god, was it full of maggots or something?

I walked carefully across the kitchen floor, trying to step only on the heel of the dirty foot so I wouldn't spread the stuff around more, and then washed my foot in the kitchen sink. I needed to put on shoes to protect my feet, as well as clothes better suited to cleaning up this mess. I went into the living room where I thought I could find sandals and maybe some clothes I had left next to my worktable, and I stopped, stunned to discover that all the furniture in the room was missing. It was just a blank expanse of floor. How could this have happened? There was just no way... I realized that I had to be dreaming. Upon questioning the scenario my initial impression was that no, I wasn't dreaming, but I refused accept this and persisted firmly in my doubt: sorry Mind, you can't trick me this time, I'm obviously dreaming, get with the program. In the face of such resolve my mind finally acquiesced and acknowledged that I was dreaming by spitefully waking me up.

I was sitting in a meadow, surrounded by long, green, sweet-smelling grasses.
I closed my eyes, and let the sun kiss my face, feeling completely at peace.
I don't know how long I sat there, with my long hair billowing in the slight breeze.
A thought crossed my mind. "It is better not to be happy. Because the disappointment of another of life's troubles will hit you with a force that takes every hint of happiness away." Those were the exact words.
My eyes snapped open.
A dark cloud was pulling itself across the sun. The wind picked up to insane speeds. My hair whipped itself against my face suddenly, stinging my cheeks. I felt a little wetness where the stingy feelings were. I put my hand up to my face, and there was a perfect, fine line of blood on my hand.

I looked up, about 500 meters away was a train bridge. The fast approaching train was in grave danger. I knew it, yet, I couldn't spot what the danger was yet.
All of a sudden I knew. The ducts of the bridge were shaking vigorously in the middle.
I wanted to scream as loud as I could. Do anything to attempt to stop the train, with all its' passengers, but I know I could not.
A hollow sound came from my mouth. "Ehhh." I bit my fist, and watched in HORROR as the weakened structure of the bridge gave way, and the train started diving head first in the churning water below.
A lovely little girl flew out, her gaze caught my horror-struck one, as she was flying down towards the water. Her brown braids waved in the breeze. She looked so peaceful. Then there was a big bolt of lightening, and she hit the water with a humongous splash.
The train hit milla-seconds after she did. Right in the same place. Animal-like screams filled the air. A pool of blood surfaced on the water.
My stomach churned.
Cart after cart, plunged into the river, with deformed bodies sliding in after them. Pieces of the bridge crashed in after all of it.
It was HELL.
I realized I was screaming now. My voice matched the others. The helpless ones I could not reach.
The little girl. I caught sight of her again. How could she still be alive??? There was a huge cut on the right side of her face, that was gushing blood.
I didn't hesitate anymore. I dived into the wreckage-filled water, and I was under. I opened my eyes for a split second and saw clouds of blood, and little white pieces, which I assumed were bones. I surfaced, with a gasp, and took in as much air as I could. I looked every which way, trying to catch sight of the little girl. I finally caught sight of her. She was clinging to a piece of the bridge, and I was felt adrenaline rush through me. I swam toward her, with long strokes.
As a piece of train came rushing towards her, threatening to knock into her, and kill her, I made a lunge, and grabbed her arm, and yanked. She cried out in pain, but I pulled her into right arm, as the piece of wreckage came thundering by.
"PUT YOUR ARMS AROUND MY NECK!" I yelled, over the noice. "WHATEVER YOU DO, DON'T LET GO!"
She clung to me, and wrapped her legs around my waist, and I started swimming back.
A big, rusty piece of metal with deadly, sharp pieces like swords sticking out of it, was headed straight for me.
I screamed "HOLD ON!!" and I dove under. A piece of metal struck me in the head, and I heard a crack, and an excruciating pain rushed through my upper body.
I felt myself slipping into unconciousness, and was vaguely aware of powerful arms grabbing me around my waist. "Where's the girl????" I remember, screaming in my head.
Then.. Nothing.

I woke up in my dream. Everything was blurry. A handsome face, that has haunted my memory for months, was above me, stroking my hair gently. Angry tears spilled from my eyes. "This can't be real!" I thought. "He's gone. He left. He's not coming back. He drove away."
He pulled his sleeve into his palm, and dabbed at my tears with a feather touch. "Don't cry, honey", he said.
I swallowed. "You left," I whispered.
Confusion came over his face. "But I was always here. I've been here with you for the last four days. I won't leave you."
He took my hand, and kissed it gently. "I promise," he said.
He started to say something else. I was intrigued. Focusing hard.

There were bolts of lightning/electricity, and I woke up with a jolt.
I was sweating, and my heart was pounding like hell.
I didn't know if I was happy or angry to be awoken from the dream.

God. Dear god. I don't normally have nightmares, but this is a fucking whopper. I honestly have to get this out of my system. And don't think I'm overreacting, because while you may be able to read this, you'll never be able to read it.

To understand why I don't become lucid, this is my logic: I'm watching horror movies on TV. That's all. But I can't help but be pulled into them as if they're reality. But that's not the real problem, because I really am becoming part of it. Now carry on.
It's starts off innocently enough. A nightmare, to be fair, but nothing like what's to come. I'm a kid in this weird sort of daycare that seems to be in the middle of a desert on the outskirts of town. Suddenly, bombs (assisted by parachutes) slowly start drifting towards the ground. I can only crawl, but I have to get away. The bombs only blow up enough to kill one person within about a foot of it when it touches down, but there's plenty of em. I scream for everyone to get away, but no one listens. You'll come to realize in this dream no one ever listens. One kid, my best childhood friend in real life, dies. Thus the scarring begins. There's something dangerous outside. I take refuge (now I'm my normal age, late 14) in a hospital/bank/mansion called "Eurao" (it only holds that name as a bank, as a hospital or mansion it is nameless). This will come to be my life's worst decision. For there can be no escape from Eurao.

Our responsibility (placed upon us by some boss, as at this point we're working for some reason) is to rescue all the people of this hospital. Me and a more informed buddy of mine were working on people in the second floor. He was telling about who I was assigned to. He said they were called throaters, people who for whatever reason want to be in the hospital so bad they totally wreck their trachea. There are two staircases to the second floor. I'm on one, and I notice the other is strange looking. When I investigate it, I discover that each step is actually a movable slab, used for housing morgue drawers. I then come to find everyone on the second floor is dead. And the third. I wished with all my heart I could save the poor kids in the surgery floors and intensive care, but there was no way. The second and third floor residents were now zombies, and they chased us back to the first floor. The mansion. Now try not to get lost, because my memory mostly falls apart here.

What I do know: The house (or spirit of the house) is alive and malevolent. I also know it is testing us in scenes. Meaning there is one distinctive enemy or threat at a time, and never do threats overlap. And there is ever so slightly time between scenes to regroup. Now I don't remember much of this part. I believe someone died by the zombies. But then came Hook. His own little scene in himself, he wasn't what you'd expect of a dangerous killer. He looked homeless. HE wore a big brown robe made from some large sack. His hair was oily, orange, short, and in dread locks. He had one tool with him. A small toy scythe, maybe with a two inch blade. But it was razor sharp. How he worked: He would only kill one person. He would cut off a body part. He offered them the choice of what he should cut off, but no matter what it was you died. One more of my group died, and I had the horror of being in their POV at the time.

Next thing I remember, I was isolated at the end of the house in one large room, home to the morgue stairs. I don't remember what happened, but it was big. After the scene, I ran to the other end of the mansion to the room where my friend was, alone. We were now the only ones alive. His POV. In this final scene, the house itself possesses a ceiling fan and wires. Only the ceiling fan could kill anyone it hit, and the wires were like tendrils, looking to strangle anything they could find. Now my friend had a gun. The only way he could stop this thing, kill the house, and save our lives was to shoot out the five lights attached to the fan. Which with five bullets, a faulty pistol, and the rapid movement of the fan, was very tough. But, coming to a very close call, he did it. He survived. We heard people coming in. We locked the doors (always the threat of zombies) and looked out the windows. They were family and friends, come to celebrate the end of whatever catastrophe had been occurring outside. As we turned around to greet them, a tendril shot across the room and pierced straight through my friend's head.

I couldn't celebrate. Everyone but me had died. The house was still a threat but no one believed anything had really happened there. There is no greater stress than having knowledge that could save everyone's lives and not having them let you. I even got five of my closest friends into a car at one point and floored it, but I couldn't get away fast enough from the house. I pulled over to have an emotional breakdown and another person took the wheel. Ten minutes later we were back. But there was one person in the house I couldn't let stay. My sister. I made her promise me she'd get in her car and drive away, as far away as she could. I guaranteed her she would die today if she stayed. But her word was broken, just as everyone else's was. Then came Hook. He was back for round two. Now facing me. But I knew his tricks, his moves. I knew him now. I ended up pulling away in just the right time and stole the scythe and killed Hook. To my joy, my sister finally understood and left for good. To my dismay, no one else did.

I come back inside, wandering a light-less corridor where I could swear we had night-lights to guide the way. I come to the main living area at the end of the hall and see a family friend there. But she's the only one, and eventually leaves. The TV comes on, and I know the face I see. It's the face of the house. After surviving once, the house knew it had to rid the world of the one that got away. I run to my bedroom. The lights go out and I hear movement. I break the window to the next room and jump through. I land in an impossible room, housing a machine of death made by the house. It was very Rube Goldberg, and almost resembled the game mousetrap. I knew there was nothing I could do, so I prayed. and right before I was crushed, the machine malfunctioned, then collapsed, then disappeared from existence. I'm now in the large room parallel to my bedroom, lights and all on. I hear a person coming down the hallway and lock the door. It's my mom. This is our house. My sister's fine and well in the next room. I've been watching too many horror movies...