Sunday, June 9, 2013

A Dream of Blood

I had a dream when I was in high school that was so vivid, so real, I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.  In the dream I’m standing at the opening of a long hallway.  It’s lined with doors on either side, all of them closed.  There is hardly any light in the hall save for a few dim bulbs flickering overhead.  The air is so cold around me that I can’t help but to shiver as I look around at the grey walls and doors.  

Focusing on the wall to my left I notice a deep gash in it.  The paint around the gash is chipped away revealing a pale wood base.  As my eyes follow it away from me, I realize the gash seems to run down the length of the hallway.  Taking a deep breath I reach out and touch it’s ragged edges only to quickly pull my hand back as one of my fingers gets cut on the splintered wood.  Holding my hand up, I watch as the blood wells up from the cut and begins to slide slowly down my finger over my palm.  The blood feels so warm compared to the cool air as it flows over my wrist.  

My eyes are suddenly drawn from my hand towards the far end of the hallway.  There at the very end, I find a single door facing me.  Even from this distance I can make out a soft light seeping around the edges of the closed door.  The light is so mesmerizing that I feel unbelievably drawn to it and soon become completely absorbed by its warm glow - unaware that I’ve actually started moving forward.  Walking slowly down the hall I begin to feel dizzy, whether from the still flickering lights or the loss of blood I’m not sure, but I reach out with my left hand to try to steady myself against the wall as my strength begins to fade.  I continue on though, moving unsteadily towards the door - still sliding my hand along the wall, only slightly aware of the bloody streak I’m leaving behind me.  I stumble a few times, my feet feeling heavier and heavier with each step that I take.  It begins to feel like something is trying to hold me back from the door but the pull of the light is just too much.  I lean slightly forward, concentrating on each step, willing myself to continue on.  

I’m still a short distance from the door when I begin to notice a wetness on and around it, causing the light to reflect off of the liquid like a perfect mirror.  I look for the source but am left only with confusion as I can not see a single drop of water anywhere else.  However as I continue to get closer, my stomach turns, and I feel my mouth begin to go dry.  Seeing the light illuminate the liquid I can now see it’s red in color, and I feel my heart race at how much thicker it appears.  What’s on the walls seems to have frozen wherever it had landed, leaving an abstract vision of smears, lines, and splatter marks.  It’s not water, it’s blood! The thought fights its way into my mind as I blink rapidly at the door and walls in front of me.  Covering my mouth I feel a tear slide down my cheek - there’s just so much!  My eyes roam down the door, over the bloody streaks, and stopping on the puddles at it’s base.  As I stare down at the blood covered ground, I jump when something suddenly  passes behind the closed door, casting only the briefest break in the light followed by a low, pain filled moan.  Gasping I stand there for a moment, frozen in time as I wait to hear or see something... anything else.  

A sudden need to enter the room comes over me, moving me forward, and before I know it I see my shaking hand moving towards the door knob.  My eyes close for the briefest moment as my hand makes contact.  The feel of the cool metal mixed with the sticky texture of the blood beneath my fingertips sends a chill right down my spine.  Opening my eyes I begin to slowly turn the knob and open the door.  It gives way with a sickening rip as it separates from the dried blood around it’s edges.  

The bright light within the room assaults my vision as I blink rapidly, bringing my right hand up over my face in an attempt to shield my eyes.  It feels like forever before I’m able to see into the room completely.  What I see takes my breath away.  The walls, which I’m sure were once completely white, are now covered with blood.  Some of it fresh and bright red, still dripping slowly towards the ground.  While other areas are dry and dark brown, frozen in a grotesque picture.  Along the wall to my left I see a metal table, adorned with tools built for uses that my mind refuses to acknowledge.  I can feel myself getting dizzy again as I force my eyes away from the table.  

It isn’t until I glance over to my right that I notice a person huddled in the corner, rocking slowly back and forth on the balls of their feet.  The figure’s back is towards me, but from what I can see it’s a man with a tattered shirt and pants.  His clothes badly stained with blood causing them to look so dark that if it wasn’t for a couple strips of white, I would have thought they were black.  Taking a few cautious steps forward, I can now see several deep gashes on the back of his arms and blood running down his neck, disappearing into the his shirt.  His hair, which I’m sure at one point was a light brown or dirty blonde, is now stickily matted to his head from sweat and blood.  I take another couple of steps toward him, stopping instantly however, when he suddenly begins to move.  

He slowly rocks back on his heels, and as he braces himself against the wall, begins to stand up.  I can see blood begin to seep steadily from the multiple cuts on his hands and arms, the muscles in his arms bunch at the pressure as he leans his weight on them.  I take a couple steps back for as he rises to an incredibly tall height, I can begin to hear him muttering something under his breath.  I want to ask him what he’s saying, and ask him what happened to him, but I find myself unable to utter anything at all.  He stops muttering as he stands there still facing the wall.  He tilts his head to one side and I suddenly get the eerie sense that he’s listening to me breath.  

Just as I take another step back he turns around and glares at me.  The air completely leaves my lungs in one breath as I look at him.  His blue eyes are almost glowing as he glares, blood trickling out of the corner of them and down the side of his face.  The blood from his eyes joins with what is already flowing out of his mouth and his nose.   It slides down, and what doesn’t drip off of his chin, cascades towards his chest, seeping in and out of the many cuts along his neck.  He pulls his bloody lips back in a sneer as he begins to move towards me.  His feet drag on the ground as if held down by weights.  

“Look what you’ve done to me!”  He whispers as he continues to move closer.  Shrinking away from him I feel an overwhelming urge to run.  “Look what you’ve done to me!”  He says a little louder this time.  

Moving backwards a little more I can’t seem to take my eyes off of him, even as I hear the door slam behind me.  The man suddenly lurches forward and in my haste to back away, I stumble over my own two feet and land harshly on my ass as they go out from under me.  

“Look what you’ve done to me!”  He yells as I crawl quickly backwards, slamming my back and head into the now closed door.  

Reaching above me I attempt to grab onto the doorknob but find my fingers to be covered in something slick and smooth, causing me to be unable to grip the knob.  Glancing quickly up I notice that my entire hand and arm are covered in fresh blood.  My eyes grow wide in terror as they travel down my arm and I’m met with the knowledge that my clothes are also covered.  Looking back towards the man I find him now standing right above me, his eyes glowing brightly as he tilts his head down.  I feel a scream building in me as he opens his mouth, revealing shattered, bloody teeth.  

“LOOK WHAT YOU’VE DONE TO ME!!” He screams into my face, covering me in blood and spit.  I see his blood covered right hand begin to reach down towards me and as it get closer I feel his blood landing on my legs as it drips off his finger tips.  Then, just as I begin to let out a blood curdling scream... I wake up...      

© Copyright E.F. Rose 6.8.13

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