"Nail-Biter / First Freddy Encounter" - 03/26/2007 (Lucid)

"Nail-Biter / First Freddy Encounter"
03/26/2007 
(Lucid)

(O.M.G. What a morning...
Ok, first, let me just say, here and now, that I officially submit (this time) to Freddy Krueger! I've kicked the Hell out of Jason Voorhees in lucid dreams, a number of times, but have always wondered what it would be like to face Freddy in the dream world. I've had one previous dream with Freddy in it - that I can remember - but all he did in that one was glare at me, sitting lazily in a chair as I passed by him. After the dream I'd just had a few minutes ago, though, I hope I never run into him again; unless I'm fully lucid, and mentally prepared for it, at least.

I had been feeling kinda sick, today. I came home from work early and decided to take a nap, wondering if I could induce a lucid dream - seeing as how I never take naps and shouldn't fall too deeply into sleep.)

There were quite a few elements tied into this dream, but I only remember a few of them. It started off at my aunt's old house. My mom and most of my other relatives were talking about us all going somewhere together, so I'd gone into a back room to change clothes. When I came out, I'd already been left behind with my little cousin (though I can't remember which one); apparently having been duped into babysitting her. Some time had passed, and I later recall going back in the same room where I had changed clothes. Once I entered, I noticed the door had disappeared, behind me. I was now trapped. The room was completely bare, except for a small dresser against one wall. It took me a minute to figure out, but, once I opened one of the dresser cabinets and moved a mass of clothes out of the way, I saw that there was no back to the dresser, and I could crawl through the small opening and out into the rest of the house. When I got back out to the living room, it turned out that a couple of my relatives were still there (including, randomly, a friend from work, to whom neither of us were related). My mom and aunt were still gone, though. I had no idea where they were.

There is also another fragment of a memory, within the same timeline, when I was outside my aunt's older house, and my uncle Larry drove by. It was night time and no one really noticed that it was him, except for me. He seemed to try to draw me to the car but, when other family members saw him and started trying to get his attention, he and his girl (who was driving) suddenly took off, suspiciously. That, alone, was weird, but it soon got much, much worse. 

(Now, the scenery, toward the end of the dream completely changed. I still think it was still the same dream, though, because many of the same people were in it, along with a few newer folks. Mom and my aunt were still out on their unknown errand.)

The next thing I knew, we were all on a farm. There was a big, brown barn, and my cousins and I were running around on its flat rooftop, playing games like children. There was also a large swing set that was just a couple of yards away from the barn. Aside from that, there seemed to be nothing around but miles of high grass and trees in the distance. While running around on this wide, not-particularly-dangerous roof, I suddenly felt some strange, invisible force grab me, without warning, and fling me over the edge of the barn. While falling, I could see that I was dropping straight toward a rather large pile of old wooden beams and fence posts on the ground below. Aware that I had been on a roof that was a good 3 stories tall, I knew my landing was going to suck. Hard.

I crashed down into the beams and boards, helplessly, face first. My entire body was racked with a dull (yet potent) and throbbing pain. Slowly I picked myself up into push-up position, and could see that my blood was splattered all over the old, yellowed wood. The second that I realized the blood was gushing from my mouth - which felt like I'd stuffed my cheeks with a box-ful of rocks - I heard a loud creaking noise behind me and turned my head.

For no reason at all, the entire wall of the barn, nearest me, suddenly detached itself from the rest of the building and started tilting over...in my direction. The only thing I had time to do was curl up into fetal position before the heavy barn wall slammed down on top of me and broke apart, crushing me beneath hundreds of pounds of solid wood. I felt like I blacked out for a moment, but, next thing I knew, I was climbing out of the rubble while being pulled by friends and family that had been standing around during the accident. Some of my cousins - who'd been on the roof with me - were being helped too, having fallen when the wall (and, apparently, the roof) collapsed. As I got up, I felt just like..well...like I'd been crushed by a big fucking wall, actually.

Every bone in my body hurt. I had to stagger aimlessly, just to stay on my feet, and wasn't doing a very good job at that. By the time I stopped wandering, I was over by the swing set, where some of the others were recovering as well. My hand was covering my mouth, which was still gushing blood, and it wasn't until then that I found out why.

I had a mouthful of old, twisted, metal nails.

Not only did I have a mouthful of nails, but they were stabbed into my gums and my lips; every one of them twisted at multiple angles so that none of them would have any chance of coming straight out. Still in a state of shock after the "accident," I began twisting these fuckers out of my gums. It was, of course, THE MOST HORRIBLE FEELING EVER, let me just say. I could feel them sliding through my gums, grinding against my teeth. I could feel every corner of twisted metal as I had to turn them in different directions to get them to come all the way out. There was no real sharp pain, but the dull pain (which is all I usually feel in dreams) was absolute torture, itself. Every single nail was agony - so much so that I had to practically stop and rest after pulling each one out, and there seemed to be no end to how many of them were in there - ten at the very least. There was a time where there were two left; pointed downward from my top jaw; positioned like canine teeth. I actually thought about leaving them in there like that, because I didn't want to go through yanking them out. I knew I had to just suck it up and get it over with, though.

Some of the people around me were trying to console me while I was doing this and, at one point, I came along one more, reeaally long nail. I mean really, ridiculously, unnaturally long. The more I pulled it, the more I realized that it wasn't lodged in my gums. I could feel it gagging me as it came up my throat; 4 ft - easily - of thin metal, covered in blood. Eventually, it got caught on something within me, and I couldn't pull anymore. I was trying to think of what to do about this when the guy standing next to me nonchalantly says "Here, let me help you," and grabs onto the nail. I caught a quick mental flash of the direction the nail was facing. The pointed end was in the other guy's hand, and the nail's head was still inside of me, which meant---

I screamed "No wait!" and the guy yanks this damn thing out of my mouth, ripping a huge chunk of bloody tissue from inside of me, hanging onto the head of the nail like meat from a fish hook. I practically collapsed from that feeling.

I looked at this disturbingly long nail, thinking to myself "What in the HELL is THAT?!" and sat down on one of the swings, next to a little girl that was in our group, trying to pull myself together.

Within a few short moments, the sky turned a deep, threatening gray. The winds started picking up. Before anyone could figure out what was happening, the chains on the swing of the little girl next to me started slithering around her, like snakes. She shrieked and the chains coiled around her limbs; her neck; her torso. They began raveling her up higher and higher in the swing, slowly constricting her. Crushing her. I jumped out of my swing as fast as I can, wide-eyed, staring at the horror beside me. Then, I heard that familiar voice coming from everywhere at once; Freddy - his body nowhere to be seen. He'd begun singing "Rock-a-bye Baby" all slowly, as the dying little girl's swing started rocking gently back and forth. Just when I was about to haul ass from this Hellish scene, I suddenly felt myself swinging, even though I was no longer sitting in my swing. It was as if a giant, invisible hand had picked me up, in a seated position, and was swinging me back and forth on its palm, in place of the swing-set itself. 

Instantly, I realized what was happening and screamed out something along the lines of: "Holy Shit, it's Freddy! I'm having a nightmare!!" and I could hear a few of the people around me screaming in recognition of his voice and name as they scattered away in terror. Now lucid, I threw myself forward as hard as I could and "fell off" of the invisible hand and onto the ground, picking myself up and running off to jump over a small, chain-link fence that everyone else was climbing before me. As soon as I vaulted over to the other side, I'd realized I'd had enough. After everything that had happened, I decided to throw in the towel instead of using my lucidity to actually try to challenge Freddy. The truth was: I was still in a panic and simply wanted no part of this nightmare. The last image I remember, before waking myself up, is of a lone figure, standing out in the middle of the grassy field. I can't specifically remember if it was Freddy or not but, by the way he/she was just standing there, watching us, it would only make sense.

(...I woke up feeling like I'd just been hit by a truck.

Looks like it's:

Freddy - 1
Me - 0

...and I'm ok with that. I'm not looking for a rematch anytime soon. =P )

"Fallen Prey" - 07/27/2006 (Chain)

“Fallen Prey”
07/27/2006

(Dream Chain)

Part 1:

(Wow….)

 

My earliest memory of this dream was being at this lakeside campsite at night. There were about 8-10 of my friends and family with me, and I do remember that my 5-year-old daughter was a teenager in this dream. I know that there was a whole lot of back-story to this dream, but my recollection of it all kicks in after all of the strange shit started happening, of course. 

Apparently, there was this really weird guy staying in a trailer that was close to our campsite. (I believe the camp was in a state park or, something. Anyway...) Over time, we could tell that something just wasn’t right about this guy. I’m not sure what led to it, but, sooner or later, I had snuck into the stranger's trailer while he was out doing something, snooping around to find out more about him, after he had been giving us all the severe creeps. It was dark as hell inside the trailer, but I eventually stumbled onto his secret: 

He was a serial killer, and hidden away in a number of pantries and closets in his trailer were the corpses of other campers. 

Glancing out through the translucent curtains, I could see the man's silhouette. He was on his way back! I don’t know how, but I made it out of the trailer and returned to my group, to warn them, figuring I had gotten away without being detected. ...Nope. Not so much. The stranger was soon stalking us all through the darkened forest, threatening to kill us in ways I can't recall as of now. There was one point, when we were trying to escape on this really shitty piece of broken-up raft that was in the lake. There were about eight of us trying to fit on this one raft, and it was falling apart beneath us. What’s worse is that the murky lake water was ridiculously alligator-infested. So much so, that we had to actually step over the creatures when we waded, haphazardly, out into thigh-deep water, trying frantically to make the broken raft work to our advantage. Once I was aboard, a few of the gators began snapping at us, some of them taking large chunks out of the raft. 

While fighting the gators off, one of the people in my group (dunno who it was) suddenly dropped to the splintering deck of the raft. Dead; shot in the heart from the unseen assailant. 

More shots peppered in, around us. The killer was sniping at us from near his trailer, but we couldn’t see him at all because it was night time, and the trailer was about 50 yards back in the woods. As our attention went more to the bullets than the gators, another friend of mine scrambled into the path of one of the gators and was dragged underwater. Gone. This raft idea was not working. Even if we did keep the damn thing afloat, we’d be sitting ducks on the water. 

We pulled it back ashore and I told everyone to sit tight. Frantically, I sprinted back toward the campsites, zig-zagging, as I could see the sniper-fire sinking into the dirt around me - following me on my race to grab our car, which I knew had a handgun inside. I vaguely remember having a fire-fight with this guy, while running back to pick up the rest of my group by the lake, but don't recall the details. 

(I woke up shortly after this, and was up for about 15 minutes, before going back to bed and falling back into a continuation of the same dream.) 

"Fallen Prey"
(Part 2)

Those of us who remained alive had arrived home, to safety, and were shacked up in my old neighborhood in Texas. It wasn’t long, though, before we realized the house was now haunted. (I swear, I can never get a break :| ) 

It started off, first, as a few strange occurrences. Shortly after the initial weirdness, full-bodied apparitions began appearing. I turned out to be the only person who knew who these ghosts were. They were the victims of the camp-killer, whose bodies I had stumbled upon when I raided his trailer. Not taking the time to stick around, we all hauled ass out of the house. More and more ghosts were appearing. There were about 6 of us remaining, and we all ran to the car. CJ, my daughter (still an older version of herself, in the dream), jumped into the driver’s seat. Without even giving it a second thought, I jumped in on the passenger side and everyone else climbed in back. Come to find out, my daughter was a HORRIBLE driver (which is hilarious because whenever she’s playing my Need 4 Speed game, in waking life, she’s always crashing and referring to herself as the “worst driver in the world.” Haha.), and was constantly stalling out and had no sense of direction. We eventually got far enough away from the house to come to a stop sign and for me to say “Alright, get out, CJ, I’m driving!” As we switched places, I could see people coming slowly down the street. There were too many to count. ...The ghosts were still following us. 

I drove off and we went someplace downtown, trying to stay somewhere in public. There was this bar/pool hall/rec center place that we took up shelter in, but something seemed really strange about it, from the get-go. I was recognizing a lot of the people, here. One guy, in particular, was following me around through the crowd. I vaguely noticed there was a glowing, 2-digit number etched into his forehead. (Ever see the movie The Frighteners with Michael J. Fox?) He was a victim of the serial killer, and much of the crowd was made up of the ghosts that we’d just been running away from, moments before. 

I was about to gather up everyone to get out, but realized that there was suddenly no way out. No way to leave. The doors had disappeared and everyone - including us - was inside was trapped inside. Then, it all began to make sense. The puzzle was beginning to piece itself together. 

These “ghosts” weren’t threatening to us, they never were. They were trying to communicate with us, to tell us what I’d begun to figure out on my own. I stopped at the bar and looked at the bartender. He looked back at me, as if he knew what I was thinking, just by the look on my face. Not quite sure of the words I was searching for, I simply asked him. “I’m…..we’re……supposed to be here…aren’t we? I mean…we’re not supposed to leave….are we?” The bartender shook his head with a solemn look of pity and answered: “No….you’re not.”

My hunch was right. None of us had even made it out of the damn campsite. We were all dead – either killed by the psycho or eaten by gators. I have no idea which. Everything we’d experienced since getting back home (the haunted house; driving; this club) had been taking place in Purgatory. We were only able to see the ghosts because we were on their plane, and their fascination with us was simply that we were the newcomers. There really was no going back. Feeling about sick to my stomach, I sulked around the place, pondering over how I was going to tell the rest of my friends and family of the horrible revelation I'd had. 

The dream carried on a while longer. I let everyone in on what happened and, over time, we came to accept this Purgatory, each finding our own little niche. I'd found this room where a bunch of guys were sparring on a huge, elevated mat, and I started taking on a few matches. One guy pulled out a pair of foam-rubber practice nunchaku and started tearing opponents up with them. I think it was a point system or something because it was all light-contact (which is kind of ironic, seeing as how we were already dead). Some other guy then threw me two pairs of them and I jumped in, whirling them around like a professional and completely dominating just about everyone else that stepped up on the mat. Good times. There was also a huge gym somewhere else in the building, where I played volleyball. I sucked Really Bad at that, though, and some girl, who looked a Lot like my friend Ame, kept giving me shit, every time I cost our team a point. Haha. 

(That’s about all I remember, but damn, what a dream(s)!)