Sunday, November 27, 2011
Totally inequipped to deal with vampires.
Last night I dreamed that I was a suspended sheriff's deputy in a small town in the Unites States. Kaki, who was still my wife in the dream worked in publishing. I found out that she had been receiving mail from a serial killer in the hope of turning it into an exclusive book and making enough money for us to leave the one-horse small town once and for all. I persuaded her that we had to go to the shitkicking sheriff, and share all our information with him. Unfortunately, it was too late. We'd attracted the attention of the serial killer, and he'd come to town to make our acquaintance. Also, turns out he's a vampire.
People started going crazy and eating one another, but I still didn't quite realise what was going on. Not until the sheriff started screaming and driving his squad car around town, sirens on. I tried to wave him off the road, but he just powered towards me. I dodged him and landed in a pile of snow, and the squadcar plunged into a frozen lake. I dived in to try and save the sheriff, but when I got him out, I looked into his face and saw that he had changed. Suddenly he leapt up and started tearing at my flesh. A bunch of other townspeople joined in and started to devour me. So, I died. Cherry-coloured blood started flowing everywhere.
Apparently, when you die in one of my dreams, you float above your body and look down, while god tells you which of the beliefs that you had in life were misheld. The only thing I can remember god telling me was "William Blake is a liar". And then I woke up.
Several disturbing things about this dream:
1) I haven't had an "everybody is turning into vampires except you" dream since I was around 11 and snuck down to watch Salem's Lot. I attribute this to the fact I recently read Salem's Lot, and also Enter, Night by Michael Rowe, which is in many ways similar.
2) In this dream, the deaths of hundreds of innocent civilians is basically my wife's fault.
3) My dream is trope central. From the shitkicker sheriff, the less experienced deputy, the one literary person in town, is basically ripped off from every small-town isolation horror that has ever existed. I bet the snow was playing havoc with cellphone reception in my dream, too. I can't believe my subconscious is so unoriginal. Must do better.