FUBAR Dream- No.2 (Flash-Violent)

I’m in an industrial park carrying two plastic bags of beef to feed a wedding party that is going on in a warehouse there. I see a little girl of maybe six, ragged and scratched, running out of the jumble of machinery that lines the buildings. I stop her and ask, “What’s wrong?!”

“I found a man in there. He’s dead.” She says this with no fear and almost a chipper attitude. I decide to follow along and stay calm.

“Oh, uh… Where’s your Mom?”, I ask and she just shrugs.

Pointing back at the pipes and machinery behind her, she tells me. “I was hugging my friend to keep him safe.” She puts out her pouty bottom lip, and finishes. “But then a voice told me that I needed to leave or my face would be smashed! It said it right into my ear hole and it was so loud!”

I’m obviously worried. Worried about the paranoid feeling that is washing over me, worried about the little girl and what bad things might have happened to her and worried about how empty the whole industrial park feels. There should be some one, anyone around.

“Come on we’ll find a phone in the control building over there and call 911.” She nods. I take her little hand to pull her along.

As I’m climbing the steep single-file stairway of the Control office, I keep her safely in front of me. All I can hear is the echoed metallic tapping of our footsteps, but then comes an ugly hiss. I don’t turn to look but the girl does. She keeps glancing up to the grated walkway that is directly above us and smiling at something. Damn it!

In my gut, I just know it’s her dead buddy. My instincts scream “Look!!” but I know it would only escalate this situation. I know how my dreams work.

I feel something as large as I am, plop on to my back. I cringe at the slimy weight. It’s like a slithering, boiled blanket sucking at my back. I want to crumble with fear but I don’t. I stop myself, making the conscious choice to be strong. After a breath, I ignore the feeling. It hasn’t hurt me, it’s only uncomfortable. I can take it.

“Open the door Honey.” I tell the girl calmly. She is still being affectionate to the thing at my back but thankfully, does what I ask. The metal door creaks open but we’re stopped at the threshold. There is a woman with a knife, blocking the entrance.

“Let us in!” I beg, but she’s not the friendly type and takes a swipe at my arm.

Knowing I’m going to have to fight this bitch, I make the decision to dump the blubbery hot mass off my back and right over the side of the stairwell. It drops to the ground and lets out a high screech. The little girl in front of me watches him fall, then whips her head around and gives me a demonic sneer for hurting her friend. With ungodly speed she’s at me, clawing, biting, hitting and all with the strength of a full grown man.

Out of self preservation, I push her small body down the narrow stairs and continue to dodge the attacks of the knife wielding woman in front of me.

A painful tearing at my leg tells me the girl is back, so I kick her down again. My momentum isn’t great. Glancing back, I see her dogged stare as she immediately climbs after me.

Realizing she isn’t backing off, I clutch a fistful of jeans and shirt and send the six year old flying off the stairwell. The loud “Bong!” as she smacks face first into a metal cart makes me cringe. She’s staying down.

I have to deal with the woman in front of me now. She actually looks like a woman who tried to pick a fight with me in a bar when I was thirteen and she was in her mid thirties. Real classy.

Before I can mount an attack, the woman yanks me into the room and puts my arms to my back. This takes both of her hands so she is unable to use the knife.

The room has gray walls, one metal desk, and a refrigerator in the corner. The atmosphere is calmer but still deadly. Two men are sorting through tools, I assume to find a good weapon. The larger of the two, hands a drywall saw to his buddy, “here.”

“I don’t want that! Do you know how long I’ll have to work my elbow just to murder someone? Too fucking long, that’s how long.” he says and I think how he resembles a 90’s skater guy from some video.

I start fighting in the woman’s grip as she looks over the different types of saws on the desk. There’s a razor blade the size of a meat cleaver, a big wood saw and one like a guillotine. Taking a chance, I bend over, back up into her and spin out of her hold. In the process I hit the desk and the razor blade saw falls. I snatch it from the linoleum floor. The woman is still close. I hold it to her neck. She laughs and says, “That thing’s too flimsy to go deep enough. Stupid ass.”

“We’ll see!” I shout and run it along her neck. She was right. Not enough pressure.
“Told you.” She says with a cocky smile. Then she yells at her male underlings, “Kill her! Do I have to do everything!”

I grab the back of the blade and this time I push very hard across her neck. It cuts into her like she’s made of putty. With a look of disbelief, she falls back on to the desk as blood, thick dark red blood, starts oozing out. Her eyes are open; scared and staring at the ceiling. Her thin mouth is gaping like a fish and I ask “Was that deep enough?”

Only the big man attempts to seek revenge for her death. The skater crawls into a corner, rocking and muttering to himself. Big guy chases me around the desk a couple of times, unable to catch me. A door appears in the small office and I open it, do a fake to the left, and he charges past me into the room. I slam the door shut and lock it.

My fight is officially over, so I turn back to the hallway that leads to the door that leads outside. Someone has placed a bomb in the hallway. It’s blocking the way completely. A bunch of 5gal buckets with a set of jumper cables attached to an electrical box and a fuse. It looks mickey mouse, so I pull the positive electrical cable off first and then haul some of the buckets out of the way. I’m done with this shit and figure if they were going to go off, they were going to go off. Opening the outer door, I’m free. I think of how my friends are going to be mad I was so late to the wedding party and just where the hell did I leave my bags of beef.
I wake up.


This is a dream I had early Sunday morning. I wrote it down real quick then took my time filling it in. 

You might have guessed the art is mine. Not my favorite but it’ll do. Lol

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