Nightmare Journal #2

The earliest recallable moments of this dream were spent in some sort of fancy hotel. I was meandering through the labyrinthine hallways with my backpack in tow, carrying it to some unknown destination for some unknown purpose. I got the sense that the hotel was closed, as there were no guests in the halls or lobby, and I think some of the workers were putting sheets over the tables in the dining hall in preparation of a long hiatus in service.

I was innately aware that on the other side of a large, wooden double-door at the back of the dining hall was some sort of zoo. Specifically, I believed it to be a big cat enclosure. As is common in my dreams, I was not welcome in this enclosure. It is likely that I was not supposed to be in the hotel at all, but I maintained a low enough profile to never have to find out.

After sneaking into the enclosure, I was hopping between large rocks that decorated the sand-floored pen. I think I was looking for something within, but I got distracted by the wire fencing at the top of the enclosure. I needed to climb over it, but I sensed that it was electrified. Sure enough, bringing my arm near it caused the hair to stand on end, and I felt an ethereal pressure on my skin. It wasn’t just electrified; it was cranked-up to put a lion on his fuzzy ass if he got any big ideas about reaching the walkway on the other side.

It was clear that I wouldn’t be scaling the fence like I needed to. For whatever I was trying to do, I would need to reach the other side of the pen. The details are fuzzy during the transition, but I don’t recall seeing any sort of animal before reaching the other side and coming through another set of wooden double-doors. What I found on the other side was snow blanketed over a rocky patch of terrain with some sort of scaffolding and railways overhead. The best way to describe it would be like an abandoned mine in the winter.

I followed a small worn path up a hill, and a plank was leaned from the hillside path onto the corner of the scaffolding. I stepped onto it, careful not to stand on the rails themselves or to fall through the spaces between, and I noticed a large white truck sitting some short distance away with its tires on the rails. On the other side, a smaller, black SUV was slowly pulling up the inclined rails from the direction I had just come from. 

Turning back to the truck and confirming that the SUV was on a slow collision-course with it, I noticed that there was a woman inside. A young, thin blonde woman was in the cab of the truck. Her hair was neatly drawn up, and she peered coldly through black-rimmed glasses at a clipboard resting on the steering wheel. Clearly, she was some sort of scientist, and she was evaluating the driver of the SUV. 

The nature of the test became clearer to me without words, as though some script was being provided for my inner monologue. The man had endured an exhausting battery of tests to push him to his physical and mental limits, and he was nearing the end of his trials. Strength, agility, courage, will, and mental acuity had brought him this far, but some narration in my own head assured me that it would be exhaustion that brings his journey to an end.

The unseen driver of the SUV had fallen asleep at the wheel, and the precarious design of the railway sent him slightly off-course. Slowly, he weaved about the scaffolding, eventually brushing against the side of the white truck, then tumbling off of the scaffold into a snow bank. The truck, in kind, rolled backward and tumbled a greater height into the snow on the other side. That is when the initial shock set in: I think I knew who the driver of the truck was.

I assure you that this person is fully a figment of my imagination, but in that moment, I feared for Anna’s life. I rushed back to the plank and across to the hillside path, careful not to slip on the snow-covered wood and leave my own frozen corpse for the cleanup team. I rushed across the glimmering powder toward the wreck of the white truck, assessing the damage at a distance and assuring myself that the snow must have cushioned the impact. When I flung open the door, Anna was sprawled across the snow-filled cabin, motionless. I cradled her in my arms and tried to help her sit up, frantically calling her name in futile hope for a response. Her head rolled limply in the crook of my arm to face me as her glassy eyes opened slightly without focus, and her blue lips parted to release some remnant of her final breath; a croaking, whispered sound that the living don’t make. Panic, grief, and mortal terror washed over me simultaneously with the shocking force of a tidal wave, and I put my hand to the still-soft skin of her cool, bloodless cheek. I was hyperventilating through my nose as I struggled not to cry before everything slowly faded to the now comforting black of the inside of my eyelids.

I rolled over and opened my eyes to welcome any sight of a more comforting world. Estimated time of death: 4:34 AM.