Hysteric laughter, like a perfect union of jubilation and absolute terror.
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@wayward-dreamwalker
Hysteric laughter, like a perfect union of jubilation and absolute terror.
Been having so many dreams while out this way, it's hard to keep up with them.
There are some i hope to remember to write down when I'm not so tired, but its kind of hilarious how much they've spiked while not in The House.
A dream where two brothers... experience something and only one makes it out alive. Like a classic case of a "cursed video" but I'm not sure what form of analog or digital it was in.
The thing was in a muddled sepia, with different bits of vintage footage, sometimes overlapping, that gradually got more and more grotesque, showing terrible deaths and su¡c\des. The audio also became louder as it went on and sounded like layered whispers, spoken word, and cries slowed down and reversed. The screen slowly darkens until a pair of strange eyes suddenly open up in the darkness, staring straight at (and through) the watcher.
I think the older brother is able to avert his eyes at the last second, but the gaze pierces through the younger. Things get... bad and strange, like the haunting sounds have leaked into the air around them, and dark starts oozing from the shadows, closing in.
(Will finish a bit later, I hope. Ran out of energy.)
There's some gaps in what happens next, but the older brother is at some point, thrown through the window of where they were and out onto the grassy ground below. They seem to have been inside an attic to an older building in some rural area.
When he comes to, he's trembling, and tries to carefully shake off some of the broken glass from his clothes and hair, until he sees his brother, in FRONT of the window he'd just come out of. But not only was he simply hovering there, he was perfectly upside down with his clothes and hair etc working against gravity, as if he were standing right-side-up on a platform, and that the rest of the world were upside down instead.
He has a strange look on his face; eyes wide, but with something like vacant confusion hiding a terror that wasn't able or allowed to reach the surface. But what the older brother also sees, is a dark presence looming just behind him, those same piercing eyes from the screen peering just over the younger one's shoulder. And out of that almost formless shape, dark gnarled hands had wrapped themselves around his neck.
The older brother calls out his name in fear and dismay, and the younger looks on in even more confusion. In a small voice, he croaks out. "Why aren't you coming with me?" Just before the entity tightens its grip on his neck and throws him directly towards the ground with immense force. There's a layered, wet, cracking noise as he hits the ground and crumples into a pile.
Screams from the older brother are met with a torn, reversed laughter, as the eyes of the entity watch him now, squinting in gleeful malice, before its dark form begins to twist and seems to vanish from reality.
The next parts are choppy. The boy is kneeling over what remains of his brother, trying to, somehow, get him to wake up, though nothing that mangled could ever hope to be alive again.
Eventually, they're found.
Police arrive.
He's pulled away by paramedics to be looked over before their father yanks him from them. He's gripping him, too tight, by the shoulders. He's shaking him, demanding to know what happened.
The boy doesn't answer. He doesn't hear him, because the ringing in his ears has drowned out everything else.
Someone manages to get him to let go and pulls him aside, as another quietly guides the boy to the back of a car. There is muffled arguing as the door closes, and the boy stops being aware of much after that.
At some point, there is a trial that he doesn't understand the cause for. He is blamed for pushing his younger brother out that window, though no mere fall could have caused the amount of force needed to cause such damage to a human body. He is blamed by his father, who looks at him with more hate in his eyes than he'd ever experienced before. His mother does not help. She does not look at him. She holds her face in her hands and does not stop crying.
He tries to tell his side of the story. They were only curious. He doesn't understand what happened, but it did happen. He is called a liar. His father tells him that he will burn in hell.
The boy is taken into protective custody, as its unsafe to send him home.
There is a funeral with a closed casket, which he is not allowed to get close to. His family does not want him there. He stands with his custodian and watches from afar, feeling the sharp glares of his father and the concerned, weary glances of others, but is now numb to it.
He's told that it's time to leave, and his custodian leads him back to the car they came in. The custodian watches him carefully, and somewhere behind their eyes, watches the same ones that peered through the darkness that night.
--
This was one of the most vivid, longest dreams (nightmares?) that I've had in a long ass time. Not entirely sure what triggered it.
One thing that was particularly unusual about this dream, is that it kept shifting in... style? Like as if it, in itself, was some kind of movie that was mostly "live action" but would occasionally switch to some style of "animated" from realistic, artistic, to cartoonish, but horrific nonetheless.
A dream where two brothers... experience something and only one makes it out alive. Like a classic case of a "cursed video" but I'm not sure what form of analog or digital it was in.
The thing was in a muddled sepia, with different bits of vintage footage, sometimes overlapping, that gradually got more and more grotesque, showing terrible deaths and su¡c\des. The audio also became louder as it went on and sounded like layered whispers, spoken word, and cries slowed down and reversed. The screen slowly darkens until a pair of strange eyes suddenly open up in the darkness, staring straight at (and through) the watcher.
I think the older brother is able to avert his eyes at the last second, but the gaze pierces through the younger. Things get... bad and strange, like the haunting sounds have leaked into the air around them, and dark starts oozing from the shadows, closing in.
(Will finish a bit later, I hope. Ran out of energy.)
"You may not remember how many times you've died, but your shadow does."
Words referring to a new "game mechanic" to an online interactive experience where if a player character has died at least once in the game, they will start to notice a humanoid, but fluid in movement, shadow entity lurking around corners and strange places, watching them, always moving around slightly.
Certain players, who's characters have died numerous times, begin to claim that they've started seeing shadowy figures outside the game, too, and accuse it of being a "bad and creepy publicity stunt".
Maybe it is, maybe it isn't.
Sometimes those sparks of joy aren't enough to reignight a fire drowning in bile.
You open the door and hesitate. Blink. The hall shouldn't be so dark. You're about to shut the door, and maybe try again, when the darkness speaks.
FOUND YOU.
Five, six, maybe seven hands of pure void grab onto your doorway before even more suddenly lunge from within its inky beyond to snatch you. You hardly have time to shout before it pulls you in and slams your down, and the makeshift room of your dream shifts and dissolves away.
DOWN. the thing commands, in what is more like a rumble than a voice. A vibration at the lowest frequency a person can barely hear. Like something tearing in slow motion.
It's hands are on you (in you?) with incredible weight, pushing you down, down onto (into) whatever it is beneath you. Cold and burning, sharp and heavy. You feel like you're suffocating and that swimming static of faltering consciousness threatens to take you.
What happens if you lose consciousness if you're already dreaming?
A burst of panic stirs you like pin to a balloon, and with a sudden rush you rip yourself free.
And you wake up.
Something deep, something distant.
Following (and having trouble keeping up) someone through some urban town that keeps shifting, with bits of a (the) red forest poking through. Flat pathways would suddenly become staircases leading up or down. An ever changing, nonsensical maze of concrete, wood, and steel.
Tin cans hanging on dead telephone lines, echoing long lost voices. The occasional spark comes though and bursts to life a voice that asks "Hello? Is anyone there?" But the edge of this town is empty, and it's met with only other distant, pleading voices.
Words are hard and my brain is spaghetti. I have to wake up in three hours.
But I did have a snippet that sort of expressed that Georgie had psychic type contact reactions what would allow or cause her to see someone dies or has died. To see someone in their dead form. Or something.
•A group out on a camping trip, hanging out and chatting by the fire. There's a pair of HUGE, wide, round, yellow eyes watching from the darkness. Think giant owl eyes on something as big as a bear (or bigger) and twice as wide.
•Something about some whimsical bastard who uses a magical rope ladder that appears out of nowhere and yanks them through a person sized portal to escape from their whimsical fuckery.
Something about an establishment that looked and operated as a high end bar, but wasn't what it seemed to be. Specifically chosen patrons would be enjoying themselves, when very suddenly their head would be replaced with... something (something heavy, they all looked like some kind of ball with a slanted rim around it????) and their bodies would fall lifeless to the floor. Those accompanying would experience similar fates as their faces are frozen in whatever emotional reaction they experience in response (shock, anguish, rage, confusion, fear?) and would be replaced with a mask.
A woman sitting at the bar sobs into her hands, hiding her face. "What can I do?" She asks.
The bartender, cleaning a drinking glass as if nothing unusual has happened, tilts its head, which looks something like JUST the mouth piece of an Oni mask, and responds, "Well, I could let you pick a color."
She chooses a deep violet, and shares her fate with the others.
Had a dream in relation to the realization of Elïas being aware of the not-them and Tim sort of being in the vibe of "Oh, I'm not going to KILL him, I just want to hurt him. A lot!"
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Tree houses in a flooded forest, long abandoned. The dwellings are left as if the inhabitants suddenly vanished. Water flows through and gushes from the trees in holes burrowed like pipes.
"What!" the thing with three faces exclaimed in frustrated dismay. "What is it that you want from us, burning one? Haven't you harmed us enough?"
It tried to hide itself part way behind a stack of boxes, knowing full well that it wouldn't be able to outrun an attack from the other, should it come.
"I think the answer to that question depends entirely on you."
The three shifted back and forth, all three leering at him with varying levels of suspicion and curiosity, waiting for him to continue.
"I need you to help me find someone. You seem pretty keen on a game of hide and seek, yeah?"
It's eyes gleamed with increased interest, but it shook its head nonetheless. "Perhaps, but we do not work solidly in the realm of WHOs or WHATs."
"Well..." he laughed a little. "Maybe that's exactly why I know you can find the way."
(orrrrrrrrrrrrrrr something like that. hard to picture if this thing straight up had three faces on one head, like those three way theater masks, or if they were more.... detached and slightly less strictly human looking)
Definitely a Tim dream in the mix, but not my usual one. This was a slightly more intact Desolation guy.
I remember something about him being attacked by two avatars, of different patrons (the hunt and..... either stranger or distortion, which is a bit of an odd combo, but hey) that happened to be working together, but they didn't seem to know that he had an extra patron. I remember the hunter specifically freaking out about a glow to his eyes that "want there" when they first showed up.
Most of the rest is blurry but I definitely remember waking up in water. Like having passed out and thrown in the river, then waking up, conveniently having not drowned.
There's a rush of burning heat as your heart is forced into beating again, then a rush of cold mixed with a rush of panic as you realize that you're completely surrounded by water, and aren't entirely sure which way is up.
(Shot and/or stabbed and thrown into the Thames? Fuckin rude.)
At the very least, I'm sure having the equivalent to a furnace burning inside of you makes drying off easy 🤔🔥
And so... "mayicallyoudavid" comes to an end. It had sentimental value but nobody ever got the reference and just didn't make sense for this blog so ¯\_(💀)_/¯