12-24-2014, 01:31 PM
For me to have dreams that are frightening or disturbing is rare, usually less than once a year. However, all of the dreams I have had for the past couple of weeks have been unpleasant; this hasn't happened before. In one of them, a smoky, wispy ghost flew around through the house terrorizing everyone; it was the most frightening dream I've ever had. Many of the dreams have involved destruction or catastrophe to a house. Since "house" is usually a metaphor for "body" or "incarnational vehicle" in my dreams, this suggests that I may not have much longer to live; and, indeed, I have been suffering from angina frequently recently.
Last night I had a vivid dream that was disturbing, but involved me doing violent things.
I found myself in Spain in the 1930s. I, and several other young men, were seated in a building on simple wooden chairs. We were facing a Spanish military officer in Nationalist uniform. The officer was quite like the "Colonel" in the movie El Labyrinto del Fauno; not as vain, but every bit as ruthless and disciplined. So I'll refer to him as "the Colonel". I and the other young men were not in uniform, and had no rank, but somehow we had been forced to become aides-de-camp to the colonel. The others looked bewildered and afraid.
On the Colonel's tie was a strange creature, that I can only describe as looking like a cross between a large black scorpion, and a toothbrush. We could sense that this creature was powerful and dangerous, and possessed some information that the Nationalist forces needed, so we had to figure out how to get the information from it without it harming the Colonel in the process.
The scene switched immediately to the kitchen of the building. I was present along with the Colonel, his chef, and someone who appeared to be a captive, a man suspected of supporting the socialists. He was seated in a chair, and his hands may have been tied, as they were around back of the chair. Apparently the Colonel was attempting to intimidate him, and was succeeding, as the man's fear was evident on his face. The Colonel was showing me some salmon steaks that would comprise part of his lavish breakfast. He handed me one, fresh-frozen and shrink-wrapped, and I could tell that it was not the Atlantic salmon one would have expected, but King Salmon from Alaska. I complimented the Colonel on the salmon, hoping he might offer me some, but he didn't, instead showing me the eggs, cheese, chorizo, etc, that would accompany the salmon for him.
In the next scene we (the aides) were again seated in an arc, around a slightly raised landing in front of the Colonel's private office. The captive was bound and seated next to the Colonel on the landing. The Colonel was interrogating him in Spanish, in a quiet and subtle but threatening manner. He produced some papers, read a few quotes from them, and then tossed them dismissively on the floor next to me. I wondered whether I should pick them up. The Colonel turned to me, scowled, and said to me in English, "Do you need a job??", and glanced at the papers. I got the message and picked them up, and straightened them up in my lap. The Colonel then got up, grabbed the captive by his collar, and dragged him into the private office. I wanted desperately to see what was in the office, but figured I would probably be shot if I entered, so I remained seated. In a few short moments the Colonel emerged with the captive.
In the next scene, I was at the top of a grand staircase in the building. The stairs were about 10 feet wide, and 5 stories high, and built of beautiful mahogany. Each flight had four courses, making 90-degree right turns, and at each floor, the stairs passed through a doorway. To the right of each doorway was an infantry-style rifle rack, each holding not the standard 7mm Mauser carbines of 1930s Spanish military issue, but rather a hodgepodge of firearms....German, Spanish and French, some outdated, and some in varying states of disrepair or disassembly. I wandered my way down the stairs and upon passing through each doorway examined the firearms. Suddenly, as I was standing on the third story, I was summoned from below; I was needed by the Colonel for some urgent reason. Quickly I examined the rifle rack to my right, and noticed among the old rifles a Thompson submachine gun. I picked it up and examined it to see if it was in good working order and it appeared to be so; I removed the magazine, found it loaded, reinserted it, and scurried down the stairs.
At the bottom of the stairs I found the Colonel and the captive, and the other aides, who were all armed with Mausers. The Colonel ordered us to escort the captive outside, and across the plaza to another building on the other side. We exited the building holding the captive at gunpoint, to find the plaza full of young, very tall, beefy people, most of whom seemed to Socialists who were hostile to us. Most of them were blonde and did not look like Spaniards.
Quickly, we found ourselves, minus our captive, in a corner of the plaza. We were confronting several of the Socialists, three men and a woman, all very large and beefy. They had their backs to the large stone walls, although it seemed as if they had manipulated us into that situation. They started speaking to us in an insulting and hostile manner, unafraid of our weapons. After a few seconds of this, one of them, a man about 6'8" and 300 pounds, said something hostile to me and started toward me. I realized that the situation was spiraling out of control and that I would have to do something; so I leveled the Thompson at him and put three rounds into his solar plexus. Amazingly, there was no blood; he grimaced and staggered, but did not fall. Then, the woman, who was built like an offensive lineman, said something threatening to me. I turned to her and shot her three times in the right kneecap. As before, there was no blood, or no visible wound; she grimaced in pain and staggered, but did not fall.
I have no memory of the dream after that; either it ended, or I just don't remember the rest.
Last night I had a vivid dream that was disturbing, but involved me doing violent things.
I found myself in Spain in the 1930s. I, and several other young men, were seated in a building on simple wooden chairs. We were facing a Spanish military officer in Nationalist uniform. The officer was quite like the "Colonel" in the movie El Labyrinto del Fauno; not as vain, but every bit as ruthless and disciplined. So I'll refer to him as "the Colonel". I and the other young men were not in uniform, and had no rank, but somehow we had been forced to become aides-de-camp to the colonel. The others looked bewildered and afraid.
On the Colonel's tie was a strange creature, that I can only describe as looking like a cross between a large black scorpion, and a toothbrush. We could sense that this creature was powerful and dangerous, and possessed some information that the Nationalist forces needed, so we had to figure out how to get the information from it without it harming the Colonel in the process.
The scene switched immediately to the kitchen of the building. I was present along with the Colonel, his chef, and someone who appeared to be a captive, a man suspected of supporting the socialists. He was seated in a chair, and his hands may have been tied, as they were around back of the chair. Apparently the Colonel was attempting to intimidate him, and was succeeding, as the man's fear was evident on his face. The Colonel was showing me some salmon steaks that would comprise part of his lavish breakfast. He handed me one, fresh-frozen and shrink-wrapped, and I could tell that it was not the Atlantic salmon one would have expected, but King Salmon from Alaska. I complimented the Colonel on the salmon, hoping he might offer me some, but he didn't, instead showing me the eggs, cheese, chorizo, etc, that would accompany the salmon for him.
In the next scene we (the aides) were again seated in an arc, around a slightly raised landing in front of the Colonel's private office. The captive was bound and seated next to the Colonel on the landing. The Colonel was interrogating him in Spanish, in a quiet and subtle but threatening manner. He produced some papers, read a few quotes from them, and then tossed them dismissively on the floor next to me. I wondered whether I should pick them up. The Colonel turned to me, scowled, and said to me in English, "Do you need a job??", and glanced at the papers. I got the message and picked them up, and straightened them up in my lap. The Colonel then got up, grabbed the captive by his collar, and dragged him into the private office. I wanted desperately to see what was in the office, but figured I would probably be shot if I entered, so I remained seated. In a few short moments the Colonel emerged with the captive.
In the next scene, I was at the top of a grand staircase in the building. The stairs were about 10 feet wide, and 5 stories high, and built of beautiful mahogany. Each flight had four courses, making 90-degree right turns, and at each floor, the stairs passed through a doorway. To the right of each doorway was an infantry-style rifle rack, each holding not the standard 7mm Mauser carbines of 1930s Spanish military issue, but rather a hodgepodge of firearms....German, Spanish and French, some outdated, and some in varying states of disrepair or disassembly. I wandered my way down the stairs and upon passing through each doorway examined the firearms. Suddenly, as I was standing on the third story, I was summoned from below; I was needed by the Colonel for some urgent reason. Quickly I examined the rifle rack to my right, and noticed among the old rifles a Thompson submachine gun. I picked it up and examined it to see if it was in good working order and it appeared to be so; I removed the magazine, found it loaded, reinserted it, and scurried down the stairs.
At the bottom of the stairs I found the Colonel and the captive, and the other aides, who were all armed with Mausers. The Colonel ordered us to escort the captive outside, and across the plaza to another building on the other side. We exited the building holding the captive at gunpoint, to find the plaza full of young, very tall, beefy people, most of whom seemed to Socialists who were hostile to us. Most of them were blonde and did not look like Spaniards.
Quickly, we found ourselves, minus our captive, in a corner of the plaza. We were confronting several of the Socialists, three men and a woman, all very large and beefy. They had their backs to the large stone walls, although it seemed as if they had manipulated us into that situation. They started speaking to us in an insulting and hostile manner, unafraid of our weapons. After a few seconds of this, one of them, a man about 6'8" and 300 pounds, said something hostile to me and started toward me. I realized that the situation was spiraling out of control and that I would have to do something; so I leveled the Thompson at him and put three rounds into his solar plexus. Amazingly, there was no blood; he grimaced and staggered, but did not fall. Then, the woman, who was built like an offensive lineman, said something threatening to me. I turned to her and shot her three times in the right kneecap. As before, there was no blood, or no visible wound; she grimaced in pain and staggered, but did not fall.
I have no memory of the dream after that; either it ended, or I just don't remember the rest.
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