Breathing on the Other Side: Yet Another Eerie Dream

The spooky goodness continues to spill over into November because I had another unsettling dream I wanted to write about from the night of October 14.  While creepy dreams are obviously not preferable when one is going through them, they are certainly more fun to write about.  This particular dream had a decidedly eerie tone throughout, and standout moments from it came about when a haunted house attraction turned out to be more fact than fiction….

The prelude to this dream, however, was when I was in this house with this man.  I didn’t know the man, so I had no way of knowing if he was a bad person or not.  But the power went out, making the house pitch black on the inside.  At that point, I was doing my best to navigate the darkness and find a room in which I could lock myself until the power came back, just in case the stranger turned out to be dangerous.

After this, I was at Disneyland, but as is often the case in my dreams, there was something off about it.  I frequently dream about the “happiest place on earth”, but it’s rarely very happy.  Usually my favorite ride is closed or has been changed for the worse.  Or I find that each day goes by so quickly, I never have any time to do anything fun, and before I know it, it’s over.  The latter was the case for this particular dream, which I admit is more disappointing than scary.  But this time, things do eventually take a spooky turn….

As each day speeds past, I decide I must visit the Haunted Mansion, if nothing else.  And yet, I inevitably find myself instead at this temporary attraction they had set up for October.  I wander around the perimeter for quite some time before I find the entrance, and it appears to be a full haunted neighborhood!

As I walk down the first street I find, I see that most of the houses are too dilapidated to be of much interest.  And then I find this much larger house, with a smaller house out back.  It’s still day time, and I decide to visit the smaller house first.  I can’t remember the details anymore, but it was a very cool looking building indeed.  I want to take a picture of it to show Mother Duck later, but I end up distracted by this fancy organ out front.  I wonder with trepidation if I would get in trouble if I play it, but the inexplicable desire to practice my piano skills becomes too strong, and I poke at a few keys.  A man walks by who works there and shows no annoyance at my behavior.  Assuming, in that case, that playing the organ is not frowned upon, I try to remember some of the songs I have learned.

For some reason, however, I can’t remember any of them.  I try an easier song, and I can’t remember it, either.  I am confused, and I get this nervous feeling that my memory has been sapped merely by being here.  Will my memories return once I leave?  I hope so.  This older woman wanders over, and I tell her of my concerns.  I used to be able to play the piano, I tell her.  But I’ve forgotten every single song I used to know.  Something is wrong here.

I want to take a photo of the smaller house before I go, but it has since gotten so dark, you can hardly see anything anymore.  I take a picture anyway, even though I have doubts that the house will appear as any more than a shadowy mass.  I might as well go inside the larger house now, but I can barely find it in the darkness.  Once inside, I use my phone as a flashlight, and I notice that a bunch of people are sitting at tables in what appears to be some sort of café.  Everyone seems uneasy and a bit sad.

There is a door with a padlock on it, and the most horrendous sound is on the other side of it.  (To give you some context, it sounds exactly like those Entombed Husks in Hollow Knight that you find in this catacombs type area.  They make the most horrendous, rattling breathing sound which has haunted me to this day.  Just the thought of them sucking air through their decaying lungs is enough to send shivers down my spine.)  Everyone is thoroughly creeped out by the sound, but we tell ourselves that it’s just a speaker making the noise.  It’s not real.

As if in a trance, one man suddenly decides to break the lock.  No one even tries to stop him, but we’re all afraid.  He bashes the padlock with a pipe or crowbar, and eventually, it breaks free.  I have since backed away from the door and have made sure to place as much furniture between myself and that room.  We all look on in horror, even as we collectively assume that nothing at all is going to emerge because, again, it was just a speaker anyway.  But something does come out.  Some horrible half-man, half-animal hybrid.  Something was indeed locked in there, we realize.  And if that sound was real, what else is wrong about this place?

The creature’s arms and legs end in points, almost like hooves, but narrower.  Strangely enough, it does not seem to be dangerous, and one man holds it in his arms.  He decides we need to rescue the creature and find out what other horrors are hiding here that need to be uncovered.  I remember going to other rooms as a group, but I can’t recall what the other rooms are like or what we’re doing there.  We have just come to the conclusion that a dark secret is hidden here, disguised as a fictional haunted house, and we simply must expose what has happened.  But it’s not too much longer before the dream ends, and I wake up, quite disturbed by what I had seen.

I feel like if I was so inclined, I could write a whole collection of short horror stories based on these dreams of mine!

Photo by Jonathan Petersson from Pexels

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