Dream the First:
I’m watching some version of the Battlestar Galactica pilot where all of the human characters are very young and they’re dying at the hands of the Cylons in gruesome ways.
I wake in tears, then after a bit, fall asleep again.
Dream the Second:
I’m in the basement of an ancient church, lit with torches, armed with a long, thin rapier. The spaces are dark and gloomy. My companions and I are trying to find an escape but we are harried by an overwhelming and faceless horde of other swordsmen. The dream ends with me plunging my sword over and over again into body after body, my back pressed up against the door leading out, with no room or time to turn around and open it.
I wake again, shaking, then after a bit, fall asleep again.
Dream the Third:
I’m on a ship sailing up river. The river bank we are passing is covered in a vast thick green mossy slime that I refer to in my thoughts as Cthulhu, though I’m aware this is just a nickname; it’s not the actual Elder God. But it’s nearly as bad: it’s a continental group consciousness that is slowly consuming (well, subsuming, really) all human life on the planet. I’m safe in the boat but if I ever step foot on shore, it will be over for me as an individual. My last thought before waking is a combination of revulsion at this sessile creature, and a temptation to surrender and join it.
So I’m a bit afraid to go back to sleep now.
