In the first dream I was working for an altruistic scientist woman who was mostly Stasia from Marry Me. She lived in a large house that was a combination of the family’s farmhouse in Signs and the crazy woman’s farmhouse in The Happening (and this should have led me to realize early on that this dream was going to get freaky after not too long), only it was in the middle of a nice neighborhood since she was so rich. I think I had something of a crush on this woman. Part of her great charitable scientific work had been the development of some kind of special candle that was very small but very bright and was hard to extinguish. Somehow this was helping children the world over, but don’t ask me how.

This house, like a disturbingly large number of houses in my dreams, had a drive-thru, and, naturally, I was responsible for same. There was some obnoxious customer who decided he had to come inside… I think he was threatening the scientist woman, because I kept kicking his ass and throwing him out, but this led him to develop a crush on me. Which, I realize, is one of the biggest drawbacks to the combination of my “someone you beat the crap out of is bound to fall in love wis you a la Saitou and Sano” attitude and my propensity to kick ass in my dreams.

Anyway, after I’d bodily hauled this guy out of the house for, like, the third time, just then all the tiny candles, which were supposedly really hard to put out (part of their usefulness), started to go out. All at once. I cannot express the sense of foreboding this created in the dream. Then there were the rumblings. Now, apparently, in this dream world, meteor showers had started to happen more and more frequently, except that everyone knew there were supernatural and malicious, reminiscent of Annie’s rain of rocks in Rose Red (because this dream needed to be more referential, right?) So I and the scientist and the rest of her staff were all cowering in terror in the kitchen looking out the windows and just waiting to die. Stuff started raining down, but instead of rocks it was building-sized pastries. Because this was a dream, this was able to occur wisout spoiling the mood at all.

Sometimes in my dreams, I realize that I’m waking up, and I finish the dream story all in a flash, much as Austen finished Lady Susan in a few brief summary paragraphs because I think she got bored wis it. So I know that I was going to get killed by one of the falling items, but then when I was a ghostie I would be even more powerful and would have the ability to protect everyone else in the kitchen and save them all.

But I wasn’t really waking up for real; I was just turning over or petting the cat or something. So then I was back in the big house, only now instead of it belonging to the scientist woman, it was a place we were hiding out as we fled, once again vaguely reminiscent of The Happening. Except that there was also some El Orfanato involved here, because apparently a bunch of young women had been murdered upstairs a long time ago. The coolest creepsome detail at this point was the bloodstain on the ceiling in the downstairs hall. It was shaped like a body, as if a bloody body had lain reverse-gravity-style on the ceiling, or as if the blood had soaked through the floor upstairs. I wish to use this somewhere, but I don’t really do much horror-themed stuff, so…

Anyway, being the intelligent people that we were, some of us decided to explore the house. And I was walking through that same downstairs hallway (it was at this point I noticed the bloodstains) and came into a room I’d been in a few times before, and noticed a doorway into a cellar/storage room that hadn’t been there before. And I, being, as previously stated, and intelligent person, thought it would be really cool to explore this storage room as long as there weren’t too many spiders. SPIDERS. I was in a freaking haunted house and I was worried about spiders.

But before I could carry out this exceptionally logical plan, I saw someone walk past the door inside the storage room. Since I knew none of my companions were in there and since the someone had seemed to be wearing suspiciously old-fashioned clothing, I called out demanding to know who was there. And out came the ghostie. She was obviously the ghostie of one of the murdered upstairs girls, but sometimes I’m not sure of how much my dream self actually knows these expositional facts. I was aware that she was a ghostie, and decided not to mention that fact to her since ghosties often become terribly irrational if you point out the fact that they’re dead. She was polite and friendly, and I didn’t want to change that. But after a while she lost interest in me, and joined the older woman who was wis us (pretty much Cathy from Rose Red) in exploring the house. Unfortunately, they came across one of the dead bodies upstairs, which, despite the fact that the murders had taken place, like, two hundred years ago or something, was still only in the early stages of decay.

This set the ghostie girl off, and she started screaming and throwing a fit and strangling the woman. Only since she was only partially corporeal, it was more like giving the woman the weird-face effect from The Ring. I came in and shouted sternly at her that she was being naughty and we don’t strangle out friends, and since I am the most powerful entity on the planet in my dreams, she stopped. But at about that point I woke up.

There were two or three other dreams interconnected to these, set in the same house and all of them creepsome and extremely derivative, but unfortunately I can’t remember them. Mou.