Dream Journal Ultimate
Date: 6/21/2018
By salvo
I’ve had this dream multiple times; not everything has been the same, but it’s all been the same concept: I get kidnapped and the kidnapper either threatens to kill or torture me. I fight back a little too hard and end up killing them brutally. This dream started a little differently. I had to take an exam for physics that asked questions about my previous composition class. Afterwards, I was walking home with my professor and her husband when I spotted my friend driving a really old car. He was coming right for us. I yelled at him to stop but he just laughed my professor and her husband disappeared, and I was the only one left who was dodging my friend’s car as he tried to run me over. I escaped into a big walled-in area around an electrical tower. For some reason I knew I had to turn it on or fix it or whatever, so I wrapped my body around a tall metal pole and my extra weight or something gave the tower the extra energy it needed to start back up again. After that, it got really dark out, so I left and ran into my grandpa, who said he wanted to show me something at his house. (Side note, he didn’t look anything like my grandpa, that’s just what I thought of him as in my dream). Taking me by surprise he shoved me into a wagon with a foil top covering it, so no one would see that I was inside. He started pulling me , but got stopped by something, so I took my chance and started using my hands to pull myself in the wagon away from him. I really got some good speed, but somehow he caught up to me. He pulled me to his hideout and I got out of the wagon. What I saw was horrifying. He had captured my friend in the car from earlier and sedated him. Now, he was lying on his back, practically naked, in this tube thing that kind of looked like an open tanning bed. There were lights shining on him and tubes coming from his veins. My “grandpa” explained that he was slowly killing my friend by peeling his skin and muscle off until there was nothing left. He had already finished his legs all the way up to the hip, so that there was only bone left. He told me that I could either finish killing my friend myself or take his place. I lashed out and attacked him, punching and kicking to no avail. He smiled and laughed the whole time. Somehow, I got my hands to his face and gouged his left (my right) eyeball out with my bare fingers. It started gushing blood, but he was still laughing. I pushed him to a wall and tried to hit his head against it to break his skull, but it wasn’t working, so I held his head against the wall instead and jammed my elbow into his temple repeatedly after remembering that your elbow can carry more power than your fist. This seemed to work, and with each elbow to the head, he got bloodier and bloodier, laughing maniacally the whole time. Only when his head was totally caved in and he had lost most of his blood did he stop, and that was only because he was dead. There was blood literally everywhere, the floors were slippery and it was all over my arm and face. My sister showed up to help me clean up, and she told me not to rinse my arm in the sink. I didn’t regret killing him; the only thing I was worried about was getting caught.