Nightmares abound. Another Tilf night-terror sequence. (Picture courtesy of a random google search -scary demon)

It’s now almost 1am and I’ve just woken myself up, screaming, from the most horrific and terrifying nightmare. I’m trying to stay awake, hence this post.

Regular readers will know that my nightmares, while (thankfully) few and far between now, make themselves well known. Which is why at 1am I woke my neighbours and myself up with my screaming. I managed to keep myself awake for a while, asking people on Facebook to help, while I waited for it to fade. I feared falling back into the same place my screams had dragged me out of.

So for the sake of trashing your sanity and hopefully saving my own, here’s my nightmare!

I was made to go to a house, I hated it, I never wanted to go, but I was made to go, everytime. I’d be put up in an attic room, it’s walls twisted and blackened. I always felt like I was being watched there, unseen eyes watching my every move.

On one of my enforced visits, there were dozens of other people, all my age or a little younger, we were all to be put in a larger room, together. I could feel the presence of the attic, even though this plush new room was far from it. The room was comfortable enough, but cramped, the people in the room clearly didn’t want me there, but weren’t polite enough to let me know. They were just snide, sniping, spiteful and cruel, but I couldn’t get away from them. I was stuck in this room with these awful people.

I looked around the room and saw on an empty TV stand several cling film covered packages. It took my a few moments to realise they were pieces of human; feet, hands, arms. All bloody and wrapped in tatty plastic. I stared at them, unable to believe that all these people could be in the room with these pieces of torn and broken flesh and not care. I asked if anyone else could see them, a girl looked at me as if I were some kind of simpleton. “They’ve been there for ages, haven’t you gotten over it yet? Get with the programme”. She sneered at my disgust and fear then laughed as my bag was taken by another girl.

I could feel the attic swell and flex, slowly absorbing the whole building, the darkened walls and twisted frames flowing around, filling and covering the room. I could feel, hear and see all the furniture in the room flexing and I realised it was breathing. I could hear it all moaning and breathing.
I grasped desperately at my bag, it contained everything, I couldn’t leave it, I had to have it. The girls in the room laughed as I tried to grab it back, I snatched it from them and ran. I made it to the outside, and kept running.

I made it to a bus station, everyone there staring at me. All the destinations on the boards were just three jumbled letters. No one would help me, they wouldn’t let me call a cab and I didn’t know where I was. I knew if I could get away I could sort out paying for the cab at home, I would be safe. I became aware of being watched, one of the many sniggering people staring at me looked awful. His face hideous and messed up somehow, obviously human but wrong. He glared at me, sneering at my fear.

I turned away from him, his stare making my chest clench in terror, to the guy in the information booth, who just stared and wouldn’t engage me at all. I turned to leave and saw a small parcel of what I suddenly knew to be drugs on my shoulder. I flung them away from me, back to the smirking man with the ruined face. I knew my finger prints were on the bag but I had to get away, I knew nobody there would help me.

Every door I ran to locked just before I got to it. I found a revolving door, it’s shielding doors closed, but somehow I managed to force them open, aware of the people gathering around me. They weren’t even running, they just walked towards me, their purpose unclear but deeply sinister. I stood in front of the revolving door and realised if I got any closer to it they would push my head against the spinning sheets of glass. I would be killed or left in as much of a mess as the drug guy.

I found a back door and ran through it, not registering that it was open, that they wanted me to go through that door. I tried running but it was like trying to run through syrup, my legs moving too slow for me to run. I could feel my muscles aching and tearing, the tears of fear running down my face.

I ran as fast as I could, not caring where and found myself back at the house, I ran through the door to get away from the hands grasping at me, the moaning voices, shouted jeers and cruel laughter behind me. As I ran through the door the house screamed at me, a piercing furious shriek that shook my very core. Each wall a baleful eye, bleeding and watching, hands coming through the floor and walls, grabbed at me. I saw the faces just as the hands pulled me to the floor, crinkling in laughter at my fear, and screamed.

And woke up.

Boo came to my side, laying on my chest purring at me, reminding me it wasn’t real, I was safe. And I lay there for a while listening to her purr. Then fell back into a fitful, empty sleep.

Happy birthday to me!

Thank you guys, it helps getting it out of my head. Sleep well.

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