I get chased a lot in my dreams, by all manner of hulking creatures, demons, and the occasional murderous mob. I’ve run through forests, beaches and meadows, but I’m most often running through houses; in and out of trap doors I some how knew were there.
But I always escape, always. Or at least I do in all the dreams that became memories in my waking life. Sometimes by a lot, sometimes by a shoelace, I always wake up out of harm
In one dream, I lived in a utopia in one dream that attributed its good fortune from a welcoming ritual. They had a party after I and a dozen new people had arrived. They got us drunk and led us to a circular chamber where we kneeled around the center as a cloven hoofed demon walked around us and slaughtered most of us.
Being a survivor left me with a lot of guilt, making it impossible to enjoy my ideal surroundings. One of the elders tried to reason with me about my bloody survival, “when he passed by you and slashed the throat of the person next to you, weren’t you disappointed?” I was. I also had a hot girlfriend that tried to convince me that I was lucky and blessed to be there, but it wasn’t enough.
I stole a car and made my escape, driving as fast and as far as I could. I finally stopped at a gas station that I thought was far out of the commune’s influence. As I filled the tank, I heard the station’s phone ring and got an impulse to see who may be calling. The station attendant immediately started staring at me. I took off across the street as the bell on the station door ring as he took off after me.
Then I suddenly felt it getting really hot behind me as I dive into the ditch on the other side of the road. I turned to see the station, my car and the attendant consumed with raining fire surrounded by blazing, heavy air that warped around it like a funnel.
After all this, I finally make it home. I turn on my TV and see the demon; he thanked me for escaping, it gave him the opportunity to end the deal he had made with the commune, which was now swallowed up by the ground.
I tell him that he was lying and that I had got the better of him, but he proved he could get me whenever he wanted by blowing up my TV.
I’ve been strapped to a metal table and made to read a story so horrific I begged to stop, but the tentacle multi-eyed floating monsterball made me keep reading. I’ve tangled with super naturally powerful backwoods gents who don’t take “no” for an answer.
But I’ve always gotten away.
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