It was dark and I was on a dirt track next to a train cutting (though in reality this would have been a freeway). I was being coxed to have a fight with some bald dude. We rumbled and he produced a pen knife blade on the end of a stick. That went badly for him as I decided to end things quickly by stabbing him once between his ribs.
Apparently me picking fights with strangers and killing them was how my girlfriend go horny.
Following this the light improved a little. I was walking past buildings in what looked like a camp site as I stripped and broke up the stick. I vistied an auntie on Dad’s side (though the back years slightly resembled one of Mum’s sisters’). I buried the knife in some soft loam in the back yard.
A brush tail possum, first mistaken for a kangaroo was dead
in the gutter. I got the feeling it has
been dumped there recently.
I was explaining the procedure for processing cytotoxic
environmental monitoring samples within a class II biohazard cabinet. Double gloving with lycra (sorry latex)
gloves on the outside and the bluish gloves on the insides…what are they
called?? That’s it, nitrile.
My manager was asking about how long I’d been there and I
said about a year. He asked how come I’d
never explained this procedure.
During the dream this was perplexing. It turns out we has never had cause to
process cytotoxic samples previously.
What we made in our facility was oral and topical, non toxic drugs.
I think there was a theme here where I wanted to be as good
a microbiology team leader as my (ex) colleagues from other lab based roles.
His wife and I “discovered” him. I think I might have been his wife in the dream. Lots of staff weapons (the things from Stargate) with two pointy bits. Stabbed warlord through the front. Post mortem, arranged face down.
Dream 2: Night club. Very posh and small night club. Well lit inside. $10 entry. Left my racing bike out front. Spent the entire time inside trying to find gents toilet so I could put my stuff in a locker. Very crowded.
Guests supposedly along a long and windy path which lead 200m away down hill and outside. This only lead to an alternate entry point to the club and seemed to be a mix between a bit of High Street Road and Eastlink vs Ferntree Gully Rd at the animal farm. Something about trying to gain re-entry and being refused, but getting back in somehow. Seemed to be more laid back music at the alternate entrance. Very green shrubbery.
Heaps more. These two were the best remembered (though obviously not very well).
I’d poisoned and then disposed of a female who as the dream continued, turned out to be a second cousin and as the dream continued, appeared to have been poisoned by her father.
Surveillance tapes hinted at me, though the tapes were lost. Something bout a skull on a boot.
I think at one point of the dream there was thoughts that this was a repeating dream (though nothing to do with the killing, relatives or any other major event – maybe just the location which was around where my cousin’s parent lived.
Something about Predators in a more Klingon type environment. They appeared to have abducted me (though I was female and viewing this all from third person).
I was in a rusted metal rack, being forced backwards by chains so they could chop off my head. Not very sporting I was thinking.
A black a white cat just out of kitten hood was wandering past to the left (of my view which was from in front of the rack). The cat appeared to be a pet.
When my head was chopped off I then appeared as an energy being and smote them all.
Next up I’m talking to a “female” Predator asking if they had sexes. Apparently they did not. After asking how they reproduced, I was informed a bit of their hair would fall off and then grow to a new being. I wanted to ask how many orifices they had.
This conversation took place in a supermarket while in the medical section while browsing for condoms (or sports gel?) with cyclists on the packaging.
I was sitting in the canteen of an old workplace <redacted>. I think I was working on my cycle training plans and looking at my heart rates zones on a scrap of paper. There was a grid. Most of the boxes were green end of line. The paper appeared worn.
Behind me he was a doctor. He was examining a duplicate of my paper scrap. Something on paper ” stopped working” as far as I can figure as supposedly I had a heart attack.
The Dr. was going to call it. I was next to him pounding on the paper and getting at him to try to revive me.
After a couple of minutes, he glanced behind him at the clock to note the time of death.
This was irritating as I clearly was alive. I started going through my current work drawer wondering how/who would get all my stuff. Woke up unsettled.
My poor eyesight was fixed by orthotics. The orthotics were padlock slide bolts. Very large ones complete with the metal bit that would attach to a fence. Reportedly, “there is nothing wrong with your eyesight. You are just seeing everything 8 pixels larger than normal. This leads to some fuzziness.”
The CEO of my company had been driving on a farm and was killed by a freight train. He seems to have driven across the train’s path. There was speculation regarding whether or not the company’s base of operations would move out of Russia.
Something about a large sparse room with an escape portal in the floor. To exit the room, one would step on a spot on the floor. Some people would vanish, some could sink.
I was tidying up something or making sure everyone else got out (though there was only me and a cat).
When it was my turn to leave, I sank into the floor. I was holding a cat and a rabbit.
As I was enveloped, I took a deep breath as there was a suffocating wet blackness.
I was concerned that this would be distressing for the rabbit and cat.
There was some sort of mental projection asking about three options of death notification and means of disposal.
I was injected with a burning fluid (it felt like my blood was boiling) and apparently I was killed. An electronic notification was sent to everyone on my contact list. Five minutes later I resurrected. I then had to tell people, no, there had been a glitch. I was actually alive. I also needed to assure them I’d not been killed in the first place, in order to protect the secret that I was immortal.
People I had not heard from in years (eg <redacted>) has expressed their condolences in the meantime.