Last night sucked. I had three — count ’em, three — separate nightmares in which I was killed. Not just “died,” but brutally killed. Blech.
In the first, I was suddenly startled “awake” (but not really, just in the dream) by some kind of accident. I distinctly remember “feeling” (you know, how you think you feel things in your dreams) the impact, and my head being crushed, and a warm ooze all over my face and jaw, which was completely mangled. I woke up for real, with a start, when there was a voice saying something to the effect of, “Don’t bother, he’s dead.”
I don’t really remember the second, except that when I woke from that one, I called out to Sarah quietly. She didn’t hear me, and I dozed back off after my heart slowed down to normal.
The third was creepy. I was walking through a building, looking for someone or something. Not searching, just on my way to go pick it up. It was a building with tall ceilings and somewhat narrow hallways, with a lot of shelving. I don’t think it was a library or something like that, but who can tell?
Anyway, I’m walking along when I encounter this crying woman. She had light brown hair, and was maybe 5’6″ or so. I asked her what was wrong, and we chatted for a couple of minutes. Then suddenly she says something that makes me nervous, and the next thing I know, she’s suddenly got an axe in her hands and is swinging away at me, talking about how she likes using human heads as bowling balls. And suddenly some guy’s head rolls by, and I realize that it’s mine, and that she’s cleaved my head off with the axe.
Not a great night for sleeping. Ugh.