This dream was insane. And vivid. You know the guy from the car insurance commericals, who acts like various disasters that could ruin your vehicle, calls himself "Mayhem"? He was in my dream, also causing Mayhem. And destroying life as I knew it.
I was at home with my boys. Standing on the front porch looking down the driveway, I see a car by the mailbox that is just sitting there. I start to go down the driveway to check it out. As I pass by the lake, I see some people fishing (I guess we knew they were there, because I didn't question it) and our lawyer was there too. When I finally reach the mailbox, the car has changed from white to green, and there is a man next to our gate with his back to me. He hears me coming and turns around... and it's the Mayhem man!
He says his name is Duke, and that he's looking for somewhere to hold an animal adoption drive of some sort. Despite my attempts to decline his offer to hold it at my house, he pushes past me and finds a sign up just inside my gate. I don't know if he put the sign there, or simply began altering one that he put up, but before I knew it there was a sign talking about puppies and cute lonely kittens. I didn't realize at the time that it was a cleverly designed trap.
While I was following Duke and trying to stop him from putting up his sign, I was being distracted by two french women. They were fashion models or designers, and they definitely looked the part. They had on tight dark jeans, shirts that only had one sleeve and hung at angles around their waists, their hair was cut short and layered, and their eye makeup was smoky and seductive. Unfortunately, they were very mean. I was simply wearing dark jeans, cowgirl boots, and a 3/4 wide-sleeve brown sweater I wear often. Apparently they were judging my sense of style, and I was failing. They were walking around me in circles with distasteful looks on their faces, talking between each other as if I wasn't even there. They did eventually go away, but only because it seemed like the adoption drive was all set up and ready for guests.
People started arriving. No one went past the lake though, luckily, so even though it was held on our property the guests stayed away from the house. There were lots of people, and they all looked rich--some of them even looked familiar, as if I had seen them on TV or something. Duke stepped forward out of the crowd... and Mayhem ensued.
Everyone started dying. It was like they were all being tortured, and that they were slowly dying in ways similar to whatever movies or shows they had acted in. They all died in ways they knew, in ways they had pretended to die. It was bloody, gory, and downright terrifying... and all during a beautiful, bright, cloudless, perfect summer day. Duke was dancing among them, laughing and touching their shoulders and heads, where worse maladies spread from his fingertips like wildfire. The worst part was that their screams were muffled, and what I heard clearly were their pleas. The words they spoke rather than moaned. The cries for help that they vocalized rather than squealed.
I was safe, though. No injury or illness took me. But I did have a woman fall over me, and I knew I had to try to help her. She looked vaguely similar to Angelina Jolie, but much younger. Her skin was turning inky black, and as it did so it was killing her. It would begin at her hands, and as it went down her arms her hands would shrink and take shape of simply black balls on the ends of black wrists, till all that was left was black stubs as it traveled towards her shoulders. The irony lay in the fact that from a distance, she appeared to be wearing sparkly black arm-length gloves, and the twisting and turning she was doing in agony seemed like an exotic dance. Anyone who drove by would simply think we were having an excentric party for the rich and famous. The deaths and torture were beautifully mortifying.
I reached up the woman's arms and found that where the black began was a separate layer from her skin. It was like skintight latex; llike a layer of plastic wrap that had been spraypainted on for a perfect fit. I grabbed the ends and pulled it down her arms, and although it felt wrong and nasty, like I was peeling off a layer of her skin, it instead came off her wrist stubbs and appeared to elongate her arms back to their normal size. I began moving frantically, removing layer after layer of black inky skin, and as I did so her arms were growing back underneath. I was still having to fight the black, because it was trying hard to take over as I was peeling it back. It leapt from her arms and lashed around her waist. I pulled the last bit from her hands then started working on her back, tearing off layers that were climbing between her shoulder blades. I think it hurt her as I did all this, but she knew it was to save her life.
We did eventually get it all off of her, and I shoved her toward the gate to leave. I knew that if she just got out of the gate, she would be safe. She didn't want to leave me after I had saved her, but I knew I had to stay--my kids were here, after all, and I couldnt leave Duke alone on the property. She left, and I knew I had saved her. But when I turned to face the rest of the dying guests, it was too late. Not only was the yard covered with dead bodies and body parts, but the sun was shining in an almost sickening way, so bright and cheerful that it seemed to be taking away some of the horror and sadness of what had happened. It wasn't right, to just cover the emotions that should be felt for such loss. With a wave of his hand, Duke made everyone else disappear, and he smiled.
Now we were standing face to face, about 20 feet apart. He stood on the driveway, just beside the spillway where the lake overflows. I was slightly farther up the driveway, so technically he was standing in my way of reaching the house, even though we were still at least 1/8 of a mile from the house. He was off to the side though, so if I decided to make a run for it, I had a pretty good chance, depending on how fast he was. My kids were standing beside me now, still young (still four and two years old). I told Duke that he shouldn't be here, and that it was time for me and my boys to go home. I had a feeling that he would try to stop us, so I sent my kids to the house on four wheelers. Each kid was suddenly on a four wheeler, heading in opposite directions. They were to take zigzaging paths to the house, and when they got there, they were to go inside and hide away from windows and doors. Duke and I stared at each other for a few moments, then I took off toward the house at a full sprint. Part of what kept me moving was the fact that Duke wasn't phased at all by the idea of us running from him. He didn't even seem like he was going to chase us... he was too calm.
As I reached the house I saw one of the four wheelers outside and I knew David had made it back safely. Night had fallen rather quickly, and the sky was already black. When I openned the front door, a mouse ran from the other side of the house all the way to the door and outside. I stood just inside, with David comfortably and obliviously playing a game in the living room. I watched out the door as Duke slowly walked closer and closer up the driveway. He stood in the yard, just on the edge of the darkness, and watched me in return.
I heard the other four wheeler come up to the house, and I stepped outside to bring my son in safely. Levi walked up the ramp into the house, and Duke just stood there watching us. He made no attempt to follow us or come closer. I backed up slowly until I was in the door again, made sure my kids were safe, then shut and locked the door securely. The kids played games in the living room while I paced the house, ensuring the doors and windows were all locked and that Duke had no way to enter. When I paced back to the front door I jumped back when I saw he had moved up onto the porch and was examining the door, searching for a way inside. He was laughing slightly, like he thought it was funny that we could keep him out.
I grabbed my phone and called my husband, who was working late. I told him about how Duke was on the porch trying to get inside, and how scared I was for me and the kids. Duke found an old gun on the porch, one that shouldn't have been able to work, but he managed to make it fire anyways. He didn't hit anyone, but I was even more afraid than before. All I kept seeing in my head was my boys in danger. I was still on the phone with my hubby, but it would take too long for him to get home.
I woke up shortly afterwards, but not before the image of Duke on the front porch, staring at me with a gun in his hands, was burned into my mind.
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