Dream 3. Of dancing and zombies
Zombies. A scary story as corny as Kansas in August. I've seen dozens of zombie movies and, one might think, should have gotten used to them by now. Yet, the walking dead manage to scare me stiff every time I think about them after dark. I'm not sure why exactly. Maybe I have some kind of germaphobia and it's the infection they are spreading that I'm so scared of. Maybe I'm just too sensitive and hate the idea that reanimated corpses are hunting for my flesh. Or maybe I'm just a misanthrope and hordes of the undead are a metaphor for stupid and aggressive society that I'm so reluctant to be a part of.
Anyway, I started having a lot of zombie dreams after watching too much 'The Walking Dead' series. Having collected enough material, my brain would show me one gory dream after another, and I would wake up in the dark of the night, shivering and sweating, trying to shift my thoughts to cute kittens and puppies. As my nights were getting zombier and zombier, I finally decided to say bye to 'TWD' - much as I yearned to know what's up next - just to stop wasting my neural cells. Still, every now and then I get a nasty zombie dream. It can be triggered by hearing someone mention the word or just spotting a picture of 'TWD' stars on the Internet. Freakin' creepy.
Sooo here’s the dream. I am at the gym with my former classmates, my mom and a lot of other random folks. The gym room is huge enough for us to play tennis in turns. Everybody’s laughing, chatting and just having a good time. A usual day with no hint of anything apocalyptic about to happen.
Suddenly, the door in the distant corner of the room crashes open and out pops a handsome guy in a bright checkered shirt, laughing like a schizo and screaming: “Seems like we’re in need of a little dancing!! Dancing and fun!!” We stay rooted to the spot, still in shock, when all of a sudden a lively country tune starts playing and hordes of zombies tumble out of the doorway into the room. People around me start screaming in terror and running for their lives, while this crazy checkered guy is jumping about, laughing and yelling that “We need to dance!! Faster! Merrier!!”
I look around. Some folks are already being eaten alive, others are struggling to make their way to the doors and I’m standing right in the middle of this chaos. I need a weapon. There’s a table next to the wall not far from where I stand. I rush towards it, dodging the bodies both cold and warm. On the table I see some sticks and broken kitchen knives. I grab a small knife with half-broken blade but realize that the blade stub is too short to poke heads with it. Determined to get out of this slaughterhouse asap, I push my way to the exit, fists and elbows crushing violently against rotting flesh.
Finally I get out of the building and find myself at a narrow backyard redesigned to act as parking lot. It’s packed almost full. The sun is shining, the weather is sweet and no zombies are in sight. I take a deep breath and decide to go look for my friends, hoping to find them intact. As I’m passing the vehicles, I spot a high platform close to my location. Metal stairs lead up to the platform. I crawl towards it and make my way up trying to make as little noise as possible. I look around. The whole backyard is now laid before me, cars cluttering every inch of it. To my left I can see a group of zombies idling about the lot not too far from me. I gulp and freeze, hoping they won’t see me. There’s an empty patch of concrete further to my right. I see a woman there. It’s Michonne from The Walking Dead. She is practicing her katana skills, nailing one impressive move after another and obviously enjoying the process.
I rejoice to see a familiar face. Now all I need to do is silently close the distance between us and - CREAK! - Dammit. My foot has just found that wrong spot to land on. I glance at the zombies to my left. They glance back at me and start growling. Oh crap. I shoot my eyes to Michonne - she’s looking at me too! Thank heavens, she heard me. And saw the walkers. She motions for me to stay put and darts in my direction, diving between the cars. Terrified, I watch as the first corpse approaches the stairs, trying to climb them. My heart stops. Next thing I know, the whole company is beheaded by Michonne’s blade in one swooshing move, bodies thumping heavily on the ground. I finally exhale and join my savior.
We approach a yellow building that Michonne was practicing next to. I understand that our friends are somewhere inside and we have to go in. Music starts playing off screen, this time a chilling suspense piece. Michonne checks the window, then opens the wooden door and motions for me to follow her inside. The woman never says a word to me, by the way, always so silent and uptight. Anyway, we go in, a couple steps down. It’s dark inside. Michonne turns on the flashlight and the beam finds a rotting, half-eaten corpse hanging from a huge boiler. Music is getting eerier. I look at the small window now high above the ground. Dirty transparent shutters are clapping against each other, disturbed by a sudden wind. I look at Michonne quietly making her way further through the room and understand that something bad is about to happen - and force myself to wake up. Sweating. Terrified.
Kittens. Cute kittens and puppies.
Anyway, I started having a lot of zombie dreams after watching too much 'The Walking Dead' series. Having collected enough material, my brain would show me one gory dream after another, and I would wake up in the dark of the night, shivering and sweating, trying to shift my thoughts to cute kittens and puppies. As my nights were getting zombier and zombier, I finally decided to say bye to 'TWD' - much as I yearned to know what's up next - just to stop wasting my neural cells. Still, every now and then I get a nasty zombie dream. It can be triggered by hearing someone mention the word or just spotting a picture of 'TWD' stars on the Internet. Freakin' creepy.
Sooo here’s the dream. I am at the gym with my former classmates, my mom and a lot of other random folks. The gym room is huge enough for us to play tennis in turns. Everybody’s laughing, chatting and just having a good time. A usual day with no hint of anything apocalyptic about to happen.
Suddenly, the door in the distant corner of the room crashes open and out pops a handsome guy in a bright checkered shirt, laughing like a schizo and screaming: “Seems like we’re in need of a little dancing!! Dancing and fun!!” We stay rooted to the spot, still in shock, when all of a sudden a lively country tune starts playing and hordes of zombies tumble out of the doorway into the room. People around me start screaming in terror and running for their lives, while this crazy checkered guy is jumping about, laughing and yelling that “We need to dance!! Faster! Merrier!!”
I look around. Some folks are already being eaten alive, others are struggling to make their way to the doors and I’m standing right in the middle of this chaos. I need a weapon. There’s a table next to the wall not far from where I stand. I rush towards it, dodging the bodies both cold and warm. On the table I see some sticks and broken kitchen knives. I grab a small knife with half-broken blade but realize that the blade stub is too short to poke heads with it. Determined to get out of this slaughterhouse asap, I push my way to the exit, fists and elbows crushing violently against rotting flesh.
Finally I get out of the building and find myself at a narrow backyard redesigned to act as parking lot. It’s packed almost full. The sun is shining, the weather is sweet and no zombies are in sight. I take a deep breath and decide to go look for my friends, hoping to find them intact. As I’m passing the vehicles, I spot a high platform close to my location. Metal stairs lead up to the platform. I crawl towards it and make my way up trying to make as little noise as possible. I look around. The whole backyard is now laid before me, cars cluttering every inch of it. To my left I can see a group of zombies idling about the lot not too far from me. I gulp and freeze, hoping they won’t see me. There’s an empty patch of concrete further to my right. I see a woman there. It’s Michonne from The Walking Dead. She is practicing her katana skills, nailing one impressive move after another and obviously enjoying the process.
I rejoice to see a familiar face. Now all I need to do is silently close the distance between us and - CREAK! - Dammit. My foot has just found that wrong spot to land on. I glance at the zombies to my left. They glance back at me and start growling. Oh crap. I shoot my eyes to Michonne - she’s looking at me too! Thank heavens, she heard me. And saw the walkers. She motions for me to stay put and darts in my direction, diving between the cars. Terrified, I watch as the first corpse approaches the stairs, trying to climb them. My heart stops. Next thing I know, the whole company is beheaded by Michonne’s blade in one swooshing move, bodies thumping heavily on the ground. I finally exhale and join my savior.
We approach a yellow building that Michonne was practicing next to. I understand that our friends are somewhere inside and we have to go in. Music starts playing off screen, this time a chilling suspense piece. Michonne checks the window, then opens the wooden door and motions for me to follow her inside. The woman never says a word to me, by the way, always so silent and uptight. Anyway, we go in, a couple steps down. It’s dark inside. Michonne turns on the flashlight and the beam finds a rotting, half-eaten corpse hanging from a huge boiler. Music is getting eerier. I look at the small window now high above the ground. Dirty transparent shutters are clapping against each other, disturbed by a sudden wind. I look at Michonne quietly making her way further through the room and understand that something bad is about to happen - and force myself to wake up. Sweating. Terrified.
Kittens. Cute kittens and puppies.