Where Monsters Wait for Their Movies

I do not frequently find myself in a lucid dream without a trajectory that I can pick up on and follow, but last night was a bit of a special case. I was incapable of escaping from a nightmarish house of horrors. The house itself was full of characters that all seemed to belong to different scary movies. I couldn’t understand why they’d all been thrown together here, but figured by the end that it must have been some sort of a half-way house for the damned. They were waiting to be called upon to appear in other nightmares, and because of this, though the dream terrified me to tears, my dream body/ psyche was never at risk as I was not their ultimate target.

I will describe each character that appeared as best I can in the context that they moved about my nightmare. First is the worst: The Hairless man painted all black and naked who was trying to escape from a book. Only his head and left leg were visible hanging out at an odd angle from some massive red tome that it would take two people to carry. The whites of his eyes fairly glowed in contrast to the deep void of black that was his skin. He was smiling at me and his head was rocking back and forth as if he was silently laughing. Throughout the course of the dream, the book itself seemed to float around a bit, and it was present in many of the rooms. He didn’t ever make much progress but I was left with the general feeling that if he did in fact manage to escape, everything was pretty much screwed/ I would most definitely be dying in the immediate.

loop

Second was the little girl who moved too fast. She had eyes that glowed bright green like a cat, and every time I tried to look at her, which was made difficult enough by the fact that she moved at an inhuman pace about the house, it was like trying to look at a street light through your tears. Her eyes glowed into one another and made an impossible halo around her so that her head looked like Saturn, ringed by the light of her eyes. She reminded me a bit of the child from the grudge, not in appearance but in personality and I got the feeling that she had been murdered in some horrible way by a male figure.

glowinggirl

Then there was the little boy with the book made of skin. He had long greasy blonde hair and looked like some sort of feral child as he was covered in dirt and his clothes were practically falling apart. He had a book made out of human skin and he kept opening it to random pages then slamming it shut with a very disturbing slapping noise that caused blood to spurt out of the spine. For some reason it was uncomfortably sexual and I spent a large part of the dream trying to get out of whatever room he was in.

bookback

The woman with the heads. She was probably the most horrific of them all, yet in the dream I was not particularly bothered by her, perhaps because she was outside of the house and I knew that she would never be able to come inside. She stood outside the windows, always in my line of sight, and repeated the same motion over and over again. She would look directly at me with a strange, lop-sided mouth, then lower her hand below where I could see into what I’m assuming was a giant basket full of severed heads. Picking one at random she would lift it slowly from the bucket, then slam it with a force that should have shattered any window, up against the glass where it would sort of mush/ explode into a gory mess, then slide unceremoniously down onto the ground outside.

womanandherhead

The creepy masked puppet guy from Saw was there too, but I was for some reason annoyed, he was not quite original enough to be paired up with the rest of them and he made it seem more like a farce.

The man I blocked out may have been worse than the painted man in the book, I know that he was there, and that he was doing something awful, something that involved existing only in the shadows of things and he was able to kill the other nightmare beings. The fact that the things scaring me were scared of him was palpable, I remember that at some point I got involved with him, but literally blocked out whatever he did to me. I woke up and at that time I was in a full panic, crying and too nervous to fall asleep again, (I turned the lights on and spent the rest of the night into the morning sitting on the couch in the living room bolt upright), but I remembered what he did to me. I went back to sleep after my roommates began to wake up for work, when the sun had risen, and didn’t wake up again until about noon. When I woke up for the second time, I had blotted out whatever the man did, and the nightmare seemed to impact my emotional state far less than before.

forgetting

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