Horrifying Dream
Last night, I dreamt about "Hannibal Lecter," a serial killer who was actually the incarnation of the devil. My heart is still beating hard from it.
--I'm actually in the lab right now, but no one's here ... but I might be interrupted at any minute--
Anyway, at first, I was the person who, acting mysteriously on the side of good, released Hannibal from his cell. That character and her/his associates then allowed ourselves to be asphyxiated to death by a yellow gas. Then I was Hannibal himself, weilding two huge carving knives and slicing down everyone in my path - those bravely protecting others, and then those they were protecting. Pedestrians, once I was out, horrified pedestrians fleeing from my path. I sliced their chests open or stuck my knife in their face and twisted to pop their head off. My adrenaline was flowing. Even though I was damn sure I would get out, there were some close and bloody grapples (bloody for them, that is). Then I was myself in a busy indoor court, like a food court, listening to Isaiah (my eight-year-old brother) explain evil as shown in his diarama by multitudes of small twisted black figures crawling out of unexpected places, often accompanied by horses, which, Isaiah explained, are also symbols of great evil. Then I was the people - a man and a woman - chasing Hannibal, trying to corner him but also (we were unarmed and unprotected) trying to avoid him. It was terrifying - but at the same time, we shone with the light of a divine mission. Then I was Hannibal again, running away but turning and killing now and then - and suddenly, my knife did not pierce the chest it struck, and the blade twisted slightly. I struck again with the other, then struck for his legs, then his face, suspecting somd sort of armor - but the blade could not pierce him anywhere and fear washed out the confidence, the bloodthirsty high. And he told Hannibal that he was Hannibal's archnemesis, sent to destroy him, that Hannibal was the incarnation of the devil and He was the Sun God. I was Hannibal's two pursuers again then and took his moment of unbalance to push him under a line of futuristically streamlined and fast traffic. We watched with relief almost unbelieving as he was smashed into dust. I turned away but, drawing level with the Sun God (who just looked like a strong, solid guy) I turned back on a hint of fearful doubt, and saw Hannibal's leering face rise above the traffic and, worse, saw the terror that captured the countenance of his arch-nemisis.
I'm sorry - very sorry - but that's where it ends. But on the instant of his death, I became Hannibal again, and saw in series in the sky the various deities (including Ennui, the aether in which everything resides) with their trademark-y symbols and swirly, lighted, galactic forms. Then, above them all, laid out before me, a simple light bulb with a pull chain switched itself on and out shone them all - and that was the spirit of the One God Over Them All.
Whew. So I didn't sleep so well last night. Thanks for listening.
--I'm actually in the lab right now, but no one's here ... but I might be interrupted at any minute--
Anyway, at first, I was the person who, acting mysteriously on the side of good, released Hannibal from his cell. That character and her/his associates then allowed ourselves to be asphyxiated to death by a yellow gas. Then I was Hannibal himself, weilding two huge carving knives and slicing down everyone in my path - those bravely protecting others, and then those they were protecting. Pedestrians, once I was out, horrified pedestrians fleeing from my path. I sliced their chests open or stuck my knife in their face and twisted to pop their head off. My adrenaline was flowing. Even though I was damn sure I would get out, there were some close and bloody grapples (bloody for them, that is). Then I was myself in a busy indoor court, like a food court, listening to Isaiah (my eight-year-old brother) explain evil as shown in his diarama by multitudes of small twisted black figures crawling out of unexpected places, often accompanied by horses, which, Isaiah explained, are also symbols of great evil. Then I was the people - a man and a woman - chasing Hannibal, trying to corner him but also (we were unarmed and unprotected) trying to avoid him. It was terrifying - but at the same time, we shone with the light of a divine mission. Then I was Hannibal again, running away but turning and killing now and then - and suddenly, my knife did not pierce the chest it struck, and the blade twisted slightly. I struck again with the other, then struck for his legs, then his face, suspecting somd sort of armor - but the blade could not pierce him anywhere and fear washed out the confidence, the bloodthirsty high. And he told Hannibal that he was Hannibal's archnemesis, sent to destroy him, that Hannibal was the incarnation of the devil and He was the Sun God. I was Hannibal's two pursuers again then and took his moment of unbalance to push him under a line of futuristically streamlined and fast traffic. We watched with relief almost unbelieving as he was smashed into dust. I turned away but, drawing level with the Sun God (who just looked like a strong, solid guy) I turned back on a hint of fearful doubt, and saw Hannibal's leering face rise above the traffic and, worse, saw the terror that captured the countenance of his arch-nemisis.
I'm sorry - very sorry - but that's where it ends. But on the instant of his death, I became Hannibal again, and saw in series in the sky the various deities (including Ennui, the aether in which everything resides) with their trademark-y symbols and swirly, lighted, galactic forms. Then, above them all, laid out before me, a simple light bulb with a pull chain switched itself on and out shone them all - and that was the spirit of the One God Over Them All.
Whew. So I didn't sleep so well last night. Thanks for listening.