happydalek (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
happydalek) wrote2009-02-17 11:02 am
happydalek) wrote2009-02-17 11:02 am
Kisses and Zombies: A Dream Log Epic
Ever have a dream in which some senses are really, really vivid, and others are just unbelievably fake? I had one like that this morning. I was in a large, multi-story building with ramps along the interior walls. (In that sense, it was actually rather reminiscent of the Ark in the dream I had last week.) The ramps were stacked with people. Hundreds of them, all seeking refuge from a zombie plague outside. The problem was that zombies had got in with them and the plague was spreading.
I was carrying a laughably small derringer-type pistol, and with it I ran along the ramps, shooting people in the head to keep the plague under control. In the crowd were people I knew from various times in my life, current friends, people I went to church with years ago, childhood schoolmates, etc. And even though they smiled at me when I saw them and were thus clearly not zombies, I shot many of them in the head, anyway. My justification seemed to be that the best way to keep the zombie population down was just to eliminate as many potential zombies as I could. I didn't feel bad about it at all.
The weird part of it was that I knew intellectually that my tiny gun didn't have enough bullets, and I couldn't possibly have good enough aim to be taking out as many people as I needed to, so eventually I just started pretending to shoot people, making the sound effect and everything, and it still worked. When my shooting spree was over, I stood on a high balcony, overlooking the place, and estimated that I'd killed about half of the people in the building with me. Except that I'd missed one or two actual zombies, and they were increasing their numbers in the crowd again.
So I embarked on another shoot-em-up, but this time I seemed to be more careful, looking just for the grey faces of zombies. I came across a pair of little girls I'd known years ago, and one sister began to plead with me to leave her other sister alone. "She's just sick," the girl cried. I knelt by the girl in question (who was wearing a bright, Barbie-pink hooded coat just like her sister), and tried to speak to her. She sat hunched over and moaned, and beneath her hanging black hair, I saw her grey pallor. A man came out of the surrounding crowd and knelt by the crying sister. He hugged her to him so she wouldn't see and nodded to me to do what had to be done. Grateful, I shot the zombie sister, pulling her hood shut tight around her head when I'd done it.
After finishing the second round of executions, the man who'd helped me with the girl reappeared to help me secure the building from any further zombie invasions. We explored numerous empty hallways, making it apparent that everyone was in the center of the building, as if in a cavernous stairwell. The building felt old and institutional, like it had once been a hospital. We found that the outer rooms in the building were not at all secure, and a look out a window showed a massive zombie population moving into the building. I started to feel a bit panicky, so the man I made our way back into the center of the building, shutting and bolting doors (even doors that didn't actually have bolts, since I was able to use my Magical Powers of Pretend again) as we went to keep the zombies contained. But it was obvious to the both of us that we were doomed unless we evacuated everyone.
We decided that going up was our only way out. The two of us managed to get the attention of the large crowd and explain the situation, then we broke the people into smaller groups and sent them up the winding staircase at intervals. Leading one of the last groups, the man and I hoofed it up about three or four flights of stairs to a balcony that overlooked a glass-paneled lobby that was, for reasons of Dream Physics, apparently on ground level. Beyond the doors was a row of yellow schoolbuses, waiting for us, except that the balcony had no stairs leading down to the floor. We were apparently trapped, even though the prior groups of people had somehow made it out to the buses. So I used my Dream Magic once more to make a ramp that led to the floor.
As I led the people down, I passed an open utility door. Inside I saw cement block walls and yellow, incandescent light, like it was a basement or boiler room of some kind. I also heard music and voices from inside. I couldn't make out what what was being said or played, but something about it made me suspect danger.
So the man and I decided to check it out before we led the last groups of survivors past. He had a handgun at this point, and before stepping into the doorway, he said, "I only have three rounds left. You?"
"Two," I answered.
"Okay," he said gravely.
I followed his lead as he crept down the concrete hallway. We found ourselves in a room with a line of tall, cylindrical, blue-painted tanks along one wall, but nothing--and no one--else. Sharing a glance, we seemed to agree that there was no danger, and we could return to the buses. But before we left the room, I did something startling.
I walked up to him, grabbed his head, and kissed him passionately (and a little awkwardly). Remember in the beginning of this post when I mentioned about some senses being more vivid than others? I felt his lips, warm and moist, on mine, just as vividly as if it really happened. I let him go and, by way of explanation, remarked, "I just wanted to know what I was missing."
In response, he kissed me back, and this time, there was real, honest-to-goodness tongue. My first-ever Dream Sequence Makeout Session, guys. (!!) (The really incredible thing about this, though, was that the man was actually someone from my own, personal Real Life that I used to have a crush on, which totally violates my conscious policy of never using actual, real people in my fantasies. Way to misbehave, brain.)
From there it gets a bit fuzzy, since I think the smooching was so shocking that I started to wake up. I remember driving on a convoluted highway system, at one point even going the wrong way down the road, then the man and I and everyone else were on a big helicopter, one of those troop-carrying kind. It was late evening, and we were split up amongst four or five helicopters, actually, making for a massive, silhouetted industrial complex out in the middle of a large body of water. It was reminiscent of an oil rig, only waaaaay huger. We were all freaking out a little. There was talk about an island that we had been prevented from landing on, and as we approached the complex, military helicopters and boats started to swarm around us, demanding that we turn back, that we were not allowed to land. The word "quarantine" came to mind, along with a growing sense of dread. I knew we didn't have anywhere else to go, so we were going to try and land anyway, no matter who tried to stop us, but I got the distinct impression that our chances were not good, and my Dream Magic wasn't going to be able to help.
Then I woke up. Because, let's face it, there's absolutely no topping a dream like that.
I was carrying a laughably small derringer-type pistol, and with it I ran along the ramps, shooting people in the head to keep the plague under control. In the crowd were people I knew from various times in my life, current friends, people I went to church with years ago, childhood schoolmates, etc. And even though they smiled at me when I saw them and were thus clearly not zombies, I shot many of them in the head, anyway. My justification seemed to be that the best way to keep the zombie population down was just to eliminate as many potential zombies as I could. I didn't feel bad about it at all.
The weird part of it was that I knew intellectually that my tiny gun didn't have enough bullets, and I couldn't possibly have good enough aim to be taking out as many people as I needed to, so eventually I just started pretending to shoot people, making the sound effect and everything, and it still worked. When my shooting spree was over, I stood on a high balcony, overlooking the place, and estimated that I'd killed about half of the people in the building with me. Except that I'd missed one or two actual zombies, and they were increasing their numbers in the crowd again.
So I embarked on another shoot-em-up, but this time I seemed to be more careful, looking just for the grey faces of zombies. I came across a pair of little girls I'd known years ago, and one sister began to plead with me to leave her other sister alone. "She's just sick," the girl cried. I knelt by the girl in question (who was wearing a bright, Barbie-pink hooded coat just like her sister), and tried to speak to her. She sat hunched over and moaned, and beneath her hanging black hair, I saw her grey pallor. A man came out of the surrounding crowd and knelt by the crying sister. He hugged her to him so she wouldn't see and nodded to me to do what had to be done. Grateful, I shot the zombie sister, pulling her hood shut tight around her head when I'd done it.
After finishing the second round of executions, the man who'd helped me with the girl reappeared to help me secure the building from any further zombie invasions. We explored numerous empty hallways, making it apparent that everyone was in the center of the building, as if in a cavernous stairwell. The building felt old and institutional, like it had once been a hospital. We found that the outer rooms in the building were not at all secure, and a look out a window showed a massive zombie population moving into the building. I started to feel a bit panicky, so the man I made our way back into the center of the building, shutting and bolting doors (even doors that didn't actually have bolts, since I was able to use my Magical Powers of Pretend again) as we went to keep the zombies contained. But it was obvious to the both of us that we were doomed unless we evacuated everyone.
We decided that going up was our only way out. The two of us managed to get the attention of the large crowd and explain the situation, then we broke the people into smaller groups and sent them up the winding staircase at intervals. Leading one of the last groups, the man and I hoofed it up about three or four flights of stairs to a balcony that overlooked a glass-paneled lobby that was, for reasons of Dream Physics, apparently on ground level. Beyond the doors was a row of yellow schoolbuses, waiting for us, except that the balcony had no stairs leading down to the floor. We were apparently trapped, even though the prior groups of people had somehow made it out to the buses. So I used my Dream Magic once more to make a ramp that led to the floor.
As I led the people down, I passed an open utility door. Inside I saw cement block walls and yellow, incandescent light, like it was a basement or boiler room of some kind. I also heard music and voices from inside. I couldn't make out what what was being said or played, but something about it made me suspect danger.
So the man and I decided to check it out before we led the last groups of survivors past. He had a handgun at this point, and before stepping into the doorway, he said, "I only have three rounds left. You?"
"Two," I answered.
"Okay," he said gravely.
I followed his lead as he crept down the concrete hallway. We found ourselves in a room with a line of tall, cylindrical, blue-painted tanks along one wall, but nothing--and no one--else. Sharing a glance, we seemed to agree that there was no danger, and we could return to the buses. But before we left the room, I did something startling.
I walked up to him, grabbed his head, and kissed him passionately (and a little awkwardly). Remember in the beginning of this post when I mentioned about some senses being more vivid than others? I felt his lips, warm and moist, on mine, just as vividly as if it really happened. I let him go and, by way of explanation, remarked, "I just wanted to know what I was missing."
In response, he kissed me back, and this time, there was real, honest-to-goodness tongue. My first-ever Dream Sequence Makeout Session, guys. (!!) (The really incredible thing about this, though, was that the man was actually someone from my own, personal Real Life that I used to have a crush on, which totally violates my conscious policy of never using actual, real people in my fantasies. Way to misbehave, brain.)
From there it gets a bit fuzzy, since I think the smooching was so shocking that I started to wake up. I remember driving on a convoluted highway system, at one point even going the wrong way down the road, then the man and I and everyone else were on a big helicopter, one of those troop-carrying kind. It was late evening, and we were split up amongst four or five helicopters, actually, making for a massive, silhouetted industrial complex out in the middle of a large body of water. It was reminiscent of an oil rig, only waaaaay huger. We were all freaking out a little. There was talk about an island that we had been prevented from landing on, and as we approached the complex, military helicopters and boats started to swarm around us, demanding that we turn back, that we were not allowed to land. The word "quarantine" came to mind, along with a growing sense of dread. I knew we didn't have anywhere else to go, so we were going to try and land anyway, no matter who tried to stop us, but I got the distinct impression that our chances were not good, and my Dream Magic wasn't going to be able to help.
Then I woke up. Because, let's face it, there's absolutely no topping a dream like that.
no subject
Secondly, I haven't had a dream that complex and awesome for at least a year, and I miss them so much. My brain fails me!
no subject
(And snogging *is* too dirty for kiddies...isn't it?) :D
no subject
I don't about too dirty... when I was little, all I remember about snogging (and sex) scenes was that they often ruined *perfectly* good movies. Why on earth did adults insist on putting them in?
no subject