It's very rare, these days, that I have something that I can honestly describe as a nightmare. I have weird dreams, sure, and I occasionally have zombie dreams, but it's not often that a dream plays out like a horror movie... Which is probably a good thing, all told.
One dream I had last week was quite interesting, in that it was rather graphic in places, but included certain recognisable elements. I am, however, kicking myself for not making a few notes about it on my way to work the following morning, because I'm sure I'm not going to do it justice now...
It all seemed to revolve around the house from the TV show Being Human (that's the original one, in Bristol, in the BBC version), which was all boarded up following some horrific events - ritualistic murders, I gathered - at some point in the past. Two men seemed to be involved, one apparently a local vicar of Indian descent, the other I don't remember anything about in particular - he was just 'some guy'. The story seemed to go that some kind of TV journalist was looking into the story, and broke into the house, but ended up getting caught when the vicar and his partner somehow returned.
The graphic part involved the journalist getting tortured while tied down to some kind of makeshift altar. The main implement of torture was some kind of long fork - a cross between the sort of thing you'd use to keep a joint of meat still for carving, and the large spork-type thing you might use to serve a salad - the flat of which was applied to the journalist's eyeballs. It was about this point that, mercifully, I woke up.
Weirdly, though, this wasn't the most disturbing dream I've had lately, as there have been two separate instances - days apart - of dreams involving a former colleague (notable at the time for his somewhat aberrant behaviour - everything from deliberately cocking things up to ensure people came back to him to ask for his help in fixing it to outright threatening behaviour - and a creepy obsession with me, briefly alluded to in my very first post). In the first, sometime during the week before last, he boarded a (thankfully crowded) tube train I was already on, forcing me to hide behind my book and the crowds of people to avoid being seen, only for a mutual acquaintance to attempt to draw attention to me. In the most recent one, I think on Wednesday night, he decided to tag along - basically stalking me - while I was having a day out with my best mate, my sister and, for no readily apparent reason, Richard Branson. Bad enough that my mate was upset about Branson's presence... for my erstwhile stalker to have returned made it all distinctly uncomfortable.
The weirdest part is how and why these dreams have occurred at all - I've not seen or even heard of this guy in something approaching a decade, and he hasn't crossed my mind in years, so I'm a little freaked out by his appearance in two dreams within about a week of each other.
The first busy period of the year at work is now out of the way, and we're now in to a complete lull ahead of one of our bigger annual projects. On the upside, this means I can get in a bit of training with my colleagues. That's the idea, at least... we'll have to see how it goes...
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