It’s dream time again! I’d kindly like to share with you a few brief moments of my brain splattered into words. I wish it were Halloween. This dream might make a lot more sense!
We’re a post-apocalyptic world, zombie style. It’s a bit hackneyed, I know, but you can shut your face and listen!
At this point the world has been trashed long enough that the zombies are starting to slow down. I don’t know if their bodies are decaying or if the drugs that reanimated them are starting to wear off, but it’s a lot easier to survive then it used to be. The downside to zombie-world having been around so long is that pretty much everyone on the planet is dead. Human beings are endangered, ya dig.
I’m not sure what city I’m in, but I’m in a hospital. All of the zombies are pretty slow moving, much like someone with a hangover, so they’re pretty easy to kill. I’m with a fellow CCBC student, and we’re trying to find some sort of “source” to the virus that made all of the zombies. We’re walking through the hospital at night. Obviously there are no lights, and we’ve only got one flashlight between us.
The dream is kind of hazy at this point, but basically we enter this huge room that looks like one of those testing science labs you see in a SciFi movie. There are a bunch of zombie scientists, and we pick them off pretty easily. Pew bong pew. Yea, those are sound effects. We find one living scientists who has gone crazy, and he keeps screaming about how “they” are spreading the infection, how “they” are pumping it into the atmosphere. I kick him in the shins, and I take the last vat of the virus. The virus looks like little frozen cubes of Gatorade, and it’s mixed with yogurt. I assume it’s not actually yogurt, but it looks really similar.
Now, my sidekick and I are kind of sure that we’re immune to the virus, but we aren’t positive. So I’m dragging this huge vat of goop to the train we have to catch, and I spill some on my hand. We both start screaming, and there’s about a five minute break in the dream where I’m just shaking my hand and freaking out.
We take the train to the airport. See, there aren’t really enough human beings left for anyone to bother anyone else, but each city has a “boss.” There are probably about five airplanes left in the country, and these airplanes fly everywhere. Only bosses get airplanes, man. Our city’s boss is at the airport, and we hop on a flight. I ask them to take us to Seattle, but they say they’re heading to California. …freakin sun-loving hippies. Give me some bleak rainy weather any day.
We get on the plane, and as the plane is taking off I wake up. The boss of the city we were going to has red hair. That’s the last thing I remember them telling me.
The End! I wish I could revisit dreams when I fall asleep, like flipping the tv station or something. I really want to know if I end up becoming one of the undead in that dream. Hrm. I’m pretty sure that red-haired guy wasn’t making it far once I got to this city. I had a bad feeling about him. Anyway, keep on livin’, my fellow survivors! Adios