Blushresponse’s Weblog

Last night, I had repeated dreams of me living in a world being attacked by the rage virus. It happened on a school bus when we picked up some kids. I had myself ready at an emergency exit. However, my choices were to be succumb to the rage that was flowing on to the bus, or the riots outside the bus.

Previously I had a conversation with one of the passengers that went like this.

“I don’t like these dreams. If I become infected, shoot me so I’ll wake up. I must die in order to wake up.”

He understood. However, I had no wish to become infected, so I prepared myself to jump off the bus so I could hit the ground and wake up. I did so.

Instead, the dream just faded away into the next story. A world still in onslaught from this fictionous villian.

This time, we were in a set of woods. It must have been England. I just assumed England. We were walking down a path and then we heard the music. You know the music. The tune that plays whenever something terrible is going to happen. We began to run faster and faster and then there was this creature.

It was a Otyugh. A group of us ran into a crevice. The otyugh spun around in time to see us enter. It bashes through the wall and attempts to corner us. I hide under a table. Some guy who I had never seen before has this brilliant idea of standing in the middle of the room. He begins pouring blood all over himself. This of course is the blood of the infected. The Otyugh runs for him and tears him up. We then realize that whoever he goes after next will tear us to pieces and then infect us.

I had to jinx that last thought didn’t I? Of course I did. The Otyugh comes running straight for me. Bites me in the leg and pulls me from under the table. I’m infected and I can feel my vision narrowing. The Otyugh gets bored with me and leaves. I slowly get up fighting any ounce of rage flowing through my blood. I tell my party members to shoot me. They just stand there. All I can think about is waking up.

Stop right there. Waking up. This was by no means a lucid dream. If that was the case, the Otyugh would not have attacked us. I was aware that I was dreaming. I was aware of the state of the dream. I wanted out, but I couldn’t get out. I wanted out of the dream.

Back to the climax of the story. Of course I run straight for my neighbors and rip them apart.

Next thing I know my mother is yelling at me to get out of bed. A little too late in my opinion. For those that read this far, I have two entries to post that I wrote on the bus yesterday into a txt document.