04/14/2008
”Bad Moon”
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v6...y/Werewolf.jpg
(I swear, it’s fun to experiment with B6 at times, but sometimes it’s just not worth the consequences. This was easily the most brutal, intense, violent dream I’ve had in a while. I’d taken some B6 and melatonin before bed, making the dream incredibly vivid (and painful). It also didn’t help that the last thing on my t.v. last night was a werewolf flick called Bad Moon. I was hardly even watching it. It was just on, and I caught a few glimpses of it here and there.)
I was dreaming about JO. Her boyfriend had broken up with her, and we happened to start getting really close. At first, we were lying around, watching these visualizations on a huge screen, kind of like the Windows Media Player visualization, but much more complex and engaging. Along with the orchestra music, it was very relaxing. We were lying against each other and beginning to fall asleep. Moments later, we were in bed, still listening to the music and just talking softly to each other.
(Because of who she is, I’m kind of uncomfortable with this dream, so I’m not going to expand on it, too much) Nothing really happened, though, we just lay there in bed together, curled in to each other.
The dream switched to third person, and I could see that I didn’t look like myself. I looked like someone else. I then saw this same guy who I’d been, with JO, in different camera shots, like a trailer for some dark movie. He was moving through the woods, and he had a strange shape to his face. He came upon this large house. Being taken, some sort of situation went down, and I caught an image of the heat from some kind of intricate furnace being pumped throughout this house, through the walls and everything. Having contact with the smoke in the air made all of the people that already lived at the house transform into werewolves – the intelligent, talking, but ultimately fucking badass kind. The newcomer didn’t stand a chance. He was immediately cornered and torn apart.
I remember something about telling JO what I’d seen, after the dream switched back to first person.
(I never got another look at myself to see if I still looked like that guy or not) She was immediately terrified, and with this ominous sense of recognition. I can’t remember the exact conversation, but I think she said the werewolves were real, and they were apart of her family lineage. I don’t remember just how that part transpired, but I’m pretty sure that’s what it equated to.
The dream skipped ahead and, for some reason, I was actually entering that same house from the vision earlier. I didn’t recognize the house, at first, so I wasn’t really alarmed. I had Cierra with me, and I think we were looking for a place to stay the night. At first things went alright. We met the owner of the manor, who had a bit of a creepy air about him – something like Bram Stoker’s
Dracula, maybe. But, still, nothing set off any bells. It wasn’t until we were getting situated in our room, that I got another vision. I saw the network of pipes and tunnels; the orange light of a burner furnace, and the thick, glowing smoke being pumped through the shafts. Everything came rushing back to me, and I immediately knew what was about to happen.
I knew it would be impossible for my daughter and I to get out of the house in time. I snatched her up from her bed and darted to another room. Miraculously finding some secret compartment in a wall, just big enough for her, I rushed her inside and told her to stay there, and keep quiet, no matter what she heard from outside. Then, I pushed the huge brass(?) block back in the way of the hole. I ran as fast as I could, as far as I could from that room. If I was going to be caught, I definitely didn’t want the werewolves knowing where I hid Cierra. Passing the most unsecured hiding spots, I came to a room at the end of a hallway. It had a closed door across from me and a closet door in the corner. As a last ditch effort, I headed straight for the closet door. Just before reaching it, I’d gotten a really bad feeling that I’d chosen the wrong direction to run in.
The very instant that though entered my head, the door that was across from the hallway I came in through burst open. Inward stalked three huge werewolves, standing upright. I instantly turned around and ran back the other way, crossing in front of them and hauling ass back down the hallway. I heard one of them order the others to get me, and could hear them sprinting down the hall after me. It didn’t take long for them to catch up to me, and they began mauling me, slashing and biting at me while I tried my hardest to stay on my feet. It was
so vivid. I could feel their bristles of hair on their bodies, and their teeth felt like sandpaper grinding my flesh.
Suddenly, out of desperation, I came to a welcomed realization. I yelled out “This is a dream!! I’M DREAMING!!” ‘Elated’ doesn’t even begin to describe how I felt. Once completely over-powered by these werewolves, I now began to take them on, no longer afraid of them. I’d noticed that, now, they had shrunk in size – to about that of rottweilers, and now walking on all fours like dogs, but they were still incredibly rabid. My lucidity was still low, and I didn’t really have time to think, at all. These things were all over me, and they were just so damn fast. But I didn’t shy away from them anymore. They would tear painfully at my arms and legs, and I would pick one up and grab both its jaws, ripping it open and snapping its head backward onto itself. More of them came running into the room and, at one point, there were at least four or five of these dog/wolves on me.
The room we were fighting in had turned into the living room / kitchen area of the place I used to share with my ex. Violently fighting off these wolves, I staggered to the kitchen and grabbed a butcher knife. Things got really gory as I began slashing and stabbing as many of these damn things as I could get my hands on. They were still tearing me up, though – and make no mistake, when they bit me, it hurt. What made it worse was that these things JUST DIDN’T DIE. They were fucking indestructible. Obviously the “silver” thing didn’t work with kitchenware because the knife wasn’t doing a damn thing. I would tear these things apart – cutting them practically to ribbons until I was soaked in both my blood and theirs, and they just kept attacking. In the middle of the fray, I picked one of them up by the front legs, and swung it down, back first, toward the back of a chair, folding its body over the chair back and breaking the wolf’s spine. I picked up another one and held a front leg in one hand, and a rear leg in another, and swung the beast down onto one of my knees, breaking its spine over my leg. Another one jumped me and I went to stabbing at it like crazy with the knife, finally breaking it’s skull by ripping its jaw apart, as I did with one of the first ones.
Finally, I realized that I had time to actually breathe. The attack had lulled. I looked around the room and saw the more seriously injured werewolves still trying to get back on their feet. Now was the first chance I had to try to ground myself into the dream by looking at my hands. It didn’t really help the vividness, though, because everything was already incredibly vivid. I looked up, across the divider, now that I was back in the living room, and I could see three figures standing in the kitchen. Three of the werewolves had changed back into human form…and they were women - very attractive women, actually. They were breathing heavily and they, especially one in particular, looked absolutely terrified of me, which seemed to be the reason why they were hiding behind the divider that separated the kitchen and living room. The other, still dog-formed – and visibly mutilated – werewolves didn’t transform, but they were definitely not in any hurry to attack me either. The female in the middle began talking to me. I can’t remember what she said, but it was something about how I was like some kind of monster, because I was able to take on all of them at one time. She had this sort of awe-struck look on her face, like she was standing in front of a god. The one standing on her right still looked scared shitless like, if I would have taken one step toward her, she would have broken through the wall just to get away from me.
The one that did the talking began giving me some sob story, obviously to keep me from killing them. She started going off about how it’s not their fault they are what they are, and they do what they do. She told me about how werewolves killed her family before she became one, and yadda yadda. I don’t even remember if I was actually listening to her with any sort of pity, or wondering what I was going to do next, but the dream faded in the middle of her monologue.
(I woke up covered in sweat, with only about 3 ½ hours of sleep, but I had to get up and write this dream out. It was already 8:30, though, because I didn’t go to sleep until late, so there’s no going back to sleep now.)
