Beasts

I was in a strange laboratory, wandering through it. I arrived in a room that reminds me of the basement of our old church in Upstate NY when I was a kid. The room was worn with small chairs and scattered tables. A boy of about six years of age sat in one of the chairs. I was accompanying the boy’s identical twin—or perhaps, just watching from afar, as in a movie. When the boy opened the door and saw his twin sitting in the chair, it was something that shouldn’t have happened. – the boy shouldn’t have wandered into that area of the laboratory. The twins’ meeting caused something like a negative chemical reaction. A shimmer emanated from them—like the [collision] of particles in physics—a pulsing radiance in the air. Then all over the world, people were being spontaneously cloned as a result.

The next thing I remember, I was at the exit of the laboratory, between two sets of enormous rusty metal doors. A few scientists in white coats watched me from behind a pane of glass in the wall. I thought how inept they were, letting the negative reaction occur.

Then my friend, [Yvonne], was there. I think she was a scientist at the lab, trying to escape from the volatile reaction. We went outside into the hectic street and [Yvonne’s] parents pulled up in a bus painted with psychedelic colors—it reminded me of the 60s or 70s, and of the bus in Scooby Doo. They were here to whisk [Yvonne] to safety […]. As [Yvonne] escaped with her parents and the bus pulled away, I saw the bus was already filled with [Yvonne’s] clones. – I could see them through the bus windows, each identical to [Yvonne], blonde and laughing merrily as they sat in the bus.

Then I felt the dream begin to shift, like one movie turning into another, and I thought it was an interesting and creative transition. I viewed the hectic street from above, like a bird, before I was pulled down to street-level and I could see a truck up close. […]

Panning the street, I saw a man lying injured—a prisoner, I think he was. […] Between the prisoner’s legs was a dead Beast, as I later heard these creatures called. The Beast was a large metallic worm about the length of an arm, with a round head of gnashing teeth. […] There was an ominous sense of where the other Beasts were lurking.

The next thing I remember, I was playing the starring role in the musical Wicked, or some musical that resembled it. The production was in a beautiful, extravagant theatre of yellow lights and gold trimming. I was already in my costume as I arrived—a heavy ballgown. I was sneaking in as the production was beginning, walking down the pillared aisles at the side of the stage or seats. The audience could see me, several heads turning curiously my way, so I headed in another direction—up these grand back staircases as the members of the orchestra flooded past me, filing into their positions with military uniformity and precision. It was a spectacular, backstage thing to witness.

I arrived at the holding room, a small upstairs room, white, with several tiers of chairs. A few of my cast members were there. I was early, since I wouldn’t be on for another few scenes. I had forgotten my purse and this kind of troubled me on and off.

The next thing I remember, I was performing on stage with many of my fellow actors, singing a loud, rousing ensemble piece. I spotted my dad in the audience, smiling and really enjoying the performance. He was looking at the center of the stage but I was off to the side. I tried to get him to look my way, but he didn’t respond.

Back at the holding room, we learned that the Beasts had arrived. The Beasts would chew off their victims’ feet. However, the ones in charge wanted the production to continue, and any Beast-related activity was to be incorporated as part of the act. So it was agreed that I would lure the Beasts away from the theatre.

I flew into the blue sky, flying from the theatre, the Beasts soaring behind me in pursuit. I met a superhero—Captain America, I think—who deployed a parachute-type contraption against the Beasts as he flew through the skies. I veered away, thinking I would just let Captain America take care of it.

I landed in a beautiful, hotel-like building in a high storey without any walls. The building was a cylindrical structure, filled with curving jacuzzis built into the tiered floor. Customers populated the place, relaxing as at a spa. However, it turned out that Captain America hadn’t destroyed the Beasts.

The next thing I remember, the lights of the building were off, the place almost deserted. A few of us wandered through the halls and rooms, whispering, afraid of Beasts. Someone spotted Captain America and she thought it was funny that he was in a jacuzzi with a row of girls sitting in the waters on either side of him. The place was still dark and empty. – we saw Captain America past an old curtain of hanging plastic—and I realized that Captain America was dead—it was his corpse that someone had positioned that way.

[…]

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Murderess

I was back in London as a tourist, riding high on a crowded tour bus and seeing familiar sights—although in my dream, London was an eclectic jumble of buildings, one almost on top of the other, with a gothic air. The entire dream was shaded with a dark hue.

I found myself inside an elegant London concert hall, or perhaps a museum. I was sitting on a bench in a large, empty, white hallway, overlooking a concert playing down below past a railing. I think […] [Irene] was sitting beside me, chatting. Then she got up to look for something, walking down a similar hallway behind me.

The next thing I knew, a girl with pale skin, a round face, and a shiny black bob of hair—fairly short, about my height—had [Irene] in a choke-hold. I was standing in front of them, desperate to save [Irene]. I had telekinetic powers and I used them to break the girl’s bones, contorting her body. I used my hands to direct my telekinesis, twisting the girl into horrific positions. But still, she would not let go of [Irene]. There was no more I could do with my powers, so I looked away as the girl killed [Irene].

I went back to my hotel room, a large dark open-plan room that I shared with the black-bob murderess. My side of the room was cluttered with my small bed and odd things. A thin, translucent curtain separated my side of the room from hers. A long balcony stretched outside a wall of glass doors.

I wanted to hurry and leave before she came back. I took a shower at the edge of the curtain partitioning, so I was between the two sides of the room, my back to the balcony. Then I saw her come in, crossing the room behind me, looking at me with an evil twist of smile. Quickly, I turned, thrusting my hand out, directing my telekinetic energy at her so she was thrown back, crashing through the balcony doors. I tried to use my telekinesis to throw her off the balcony, but couldn’t manage it.

And then she had me in a choke-hold. She dragged me to the center of our room, in front of a slender full-length mirror, free-standing and framed with wood. When I saw the girl’s reflection, I was shocked to see that it was me, standing naked in the mirror. The murderess had been me all along.

The girl/I still had me in a vice-like hold. She didn’t look like me, with shorter hair and rounder features. Yet, somehow, she and I were the same. “You killed [Irene]!” I gasped.

The alternate me replied, “She was bothering you, chatting with you while you were trying to watch the concert.”

I kept looking in the mirror, where there weren’t two me’s struggling in front of it, but only one me, standing naked in the looking glass.

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Castle Ruins by the Sea

I had taken a train from London west into the empty countrysides of England, until I reached a castle ruins crumbling along the coast. Perhaps, this came from my experience at Tintagel—which is perched on the edge of Cornwall.

I was at the castle ruins for a short break, a brief adventure. I was exploring the nooks and crannies of it, along with quite a number of tourists. The place was dark and filled with mist. I went past a few tourists huddled in a dark corner of what used to be a warm castle room a long time ago. I walked up a narrow hidden staircase in a short secret passageway which was tucked into the corner. It was difficult to squeeze through—others had tried but failed. – there was some sort of game, perhaps Hide and Seek or tag, or a bit of both—and I was running away in this game, into this secret staircase.

When I squeezed through and emerged out the other side, a beautiful shore opened before me, long and misty, pounded by the blue-grey waves of the ocean. The castle ruins were behind me, along the jagged rocks I was standing on. – and I looked down on the beach and endless ocean, covered with a windy mist. I felt I had discovered a secret behind the castle—somewhere I could escape to on occasion.

Back within the main courtyards of the castle ruins, there was a tour. There was supposed to be a play in the ancient theatre of the ruins. The theatre ruins were like the ruins of a Greek theatre—an old circular stone auditorium for seating—with Greek columns in the centre, on the stage floor.

But for some reason, the performance couldn’t go ahead, so the tour guide led us away, much to our discontent. We climbed high, to the tops of the ruins—and there, past two Greek columns along the rocks, was a spectacular ocean view, with streaks of clear yellow sunlight and a white film of mist. There were clouds like heaven. I remember I was stunned by the soft, magnificent beauty of it.

We walked along the high parapets, winding around the outside of the ruins, between the stones of the castle and the rocks of the cliffs.

We were surrounded by the white pillars of the castle—and a beautiful, strange ocean current flowed next to us, vast and deep, almost like a part of the castle architecture. While I was admiring the beauty of it, the strangest thing happened. – a London two-decker tour bus floated through the ocean waters, toppled to the side, its passengers stranded. I remember feeling concerned for the passengers, but our tour guide reassured us. And me and my tour group watched as the bus floated past.

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