Last night…

I had a strange dream.

It started in the middle of me running from a zombie.

[Note: This in itself is strange because, apart from the occasional flying or breathing underwater dream, my dreams are normally true-to-life instead of fanciful.]

[Another note: I don’t know if this is common (I’ve never asked anyone), but when I dream I usually have a third-person limited view of things. I know my thoughts, but I’m looking at everything from an outsider’s point of view. Occasionally there will be a point of view shot, but it’s mostly varying degrees of close up shots and maybe a long shot here or there. It’s like I’m watching a movie with me as the lead roll with an inner monologue constantly going. The inner monologue doesn’t detract from the other sounds or people talking or anything, though.]

So. I’m running from this zombie. We’re inside, in a corridor/hallway of some kind. I’m panting but trying to keep quiet, so as to not alert any other zombies that might be in the vicinity of my position. I feel in my pocket for the assuring steel of my gun, but don’t want to use it because, as I mentioned before, I don’t want to draw attention to myself. And guns are loud. 

This hallway is long but not unreasonably so, and soon I’m at its end. I try the door, but (in true horror film canon) the door won’t open. I panic for a brief moment before a look of determination comes across my features. I will survive this. I will not use my gun, though, because any number of those doors I passed could be hiding rooms with more living dead in them and I only have so many bullets. So I set my face and wait for the zombie chasing me to catch up. When he does I beat the (un)living tar out of him. When I’m sure he won’t be reviving again I calmly step over the body and find another exit.

I’m suddenly in the next “scene”. This time I’m in my church for some reason. I’m with a guy [I think I know him, but can’t remember who he was] and we’re heading to the sanctuary. Our guns are out in case we meet any opposition [I guess when I’m alone I prefer melee, but when I’m with someone guns are the obvious option? I don’t understand dream logic.] We make it to the sanctuary without seeing any zombies and I find that it’s a town meeting of some sort with everybody un-zombified. 

We’re all sitting there waiting [for what, I don’t know] when a hoard of zombies come slumping in. For some strange reason I’m the only one disturbed by this. I grab my gun [which has somehow changed from a handgun to a machine gun] and raise it to fire into the mass making their way up the isles. Surely we all won’t run out of bullets and we can be rid of our pesky zombie problem once and for all. Before I can set off any rounds, though, the person sitting next to me looks at me and lowers my gun. [Again, I have no idea why I’m the only one who’s even the slightest bit freaked out by this.]

The zombies eventually make it to the pew I’m sitting in and proceed to bite the neck of the woman sitting on the end [are they vampire zombies?]. The woman slumps forward and the hoard walks out of the sanctuary. [I’m still the only one who seems surprised by this turn of events, by the way.] We sit there for a few minutes before the woman actually becomes a zombie. [Again, no reaction from the other 200-odd people in the sanctuary.] She crawls over the people in my pew until she’s directly in front of me [somehow the pew is large enough for this all of a sudden]. She lunges for my throat and I shoot her in the head, ending her undead life.

Third [and final] scene: [This is one of the rare cases where I dream in the first person point of view.] I’m hobbling along a dirt path in the country when I see a farmhouse. I start dragging my feet toward it when a farmer steps out. Suddenly I realize how hungry and thirsty I am and start moving faster to the house. All I can think is I’m so hungry. I’m so thirsty. I need food and water. I look up to see the farmer staring at me with a look of disgust mixed with a hint of fear and in a flash it dawns on me that I’m a zombie. Before I can fully process this new information the farmer raises his shotgun and less than a second later I’m falling to the ground and blackness engulfs me.

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This is when I wake up, realize it’s 7:30, and panic because I have to be at work before 8. It wasn’t until I got here (work) that I was able to process the story my subconscious wove together last night. It kind of makes me want to write a story in which the zombies aren’t actually the bad guys, but nobody realizes this until it’s almost too late. I have no idea where I would go with it or how it would end, though. And I don’t want it to turn into the Twilight of zombie fiction [Stephanie Meyer dreamed one of the scenes in Twilight and wrote four books around it.] But it is an interesting twist, so I thought I’d post it on Tumblr. I hope you enjoyed! :)