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My mom, sister and I were driving on a highway during the day. There was a lot traffic and low-hanging clouds overhead and it seemed as though it was some sort of exodus. Mom was driving frantically switching lanes and weaving in and out of off-ramps, I was in the passenger seat wondering what was going on and my sister was in the back. I looked out the window and up and noticed the faint outlines of what looked like massive spacecraft moving in the same direction as us, two single-file lines, one on each side of the highway and only barely visible through the clouds. They were huge though, as big as towns, squarish instead of round and kind of looking like battleships in the sky and completely silent. Eventually we came to a traffic jam where no one was able to move anymore. Mom said, "I have to tell you something... my house burnt down. I didn't want to say anything because I didn't want you to worry but you're going to find out when we get to it anyway. It was the same people that killed your dad." I wasn't sure why but society was breaking down and the city, whatever city, was in a state of lawlessness and being ransacked by gangs.
We decided to get out and run on foot, heading down narrow alleys when we came to a bend in the path at a 90 degree angle. We stopped at the corner. I told them to crouch down and stay here while I moved ahead. I rounded the corner and snuck further up where I could see a gang throwing molotov cocktails, hooting and hollering, laughing, looting, dragging people out of homes. They looked exactly like The Destroyers/The Rogues from The Warriors complete with their leader being Luther, the main bad guy. I heard a muffled yelp and when I moved back to where I had left them, my mom and sister were gone. I checked all the alleys while trying not to be seen but I couldn't find them and as it became dark I decided to find a place to hunker down and try to sleep. I slept behind pallets and trash in an alley nook.
The next day I set out for revenge. I looked around for anything I could use as a weapon, picked up a glass bottle and a piece of a broken pool stick. I went back to where I lost the girls figuring I'd try to isolate one of the gang members and get some answers. I hid in a nook in the shadow of a stack of pallets when I saw Luther coming but as soon as he was fully in view he saw me so I leapt up and drove the end of the pool stick into his eyeball before he could react. In one swift motion I covered his mouth while swinging around behind him, lifted his head up, pulled the stick out of his eye and jammed it into his throat several times until he went quiet and limp. I dumped his body over a fence. I had intended to ask him questions but it was too late and as soon as Luther's body hit the ground I was spotted by another one. We just stared at each other for a second, him inspecting my blood soaked clothes, me seeing if he had a weapon. He ran at me and I threw the bottle, hitting him in the face which dropped him so I picked him up with the stick to his throat and demanded some answers about the kidnapped. He had none so I said, "This is for killing my dad," stabbed him in the throat a bunch of times and took off.
By nightfall cops were roaming around because I assumed they had found the bodies. As a result there were no gang members so I took the opportunity to scrounge up more clothes out of the trash and ditch my bloody ones but all I could find was ill-fitting long johns. I also found a nice leather bag containing a high-quality camera with several memory sticks. It was placed as if someone dropped it there for me specifically. In case the bodies hadn't been found I went looking so I could snap pictures but they were gone, suspicions confirmed. A cop sitting in a car saw me near the spot so I walked quickly away and as soon as I was out of sight I ran a couple blocks and ditched the camera so I'd be just another homeless guy. Cops pulled guns on me near there and searched me, then let me go.
The next day the cops were gone and replaced again with gang members. Of course they would fuck with me if spotted but there was no reason to think they'd know it was me who killed the two because no one else saw me. I found another strangely-placed bag, this time with a fishing rod in it with a magnifying glass attached to the handle. I decided I didn't want it. As I closed up the bag a voice said, "I know it was you." When I looked up there was a short stone staircase leading up from the alley with concrete embankments on either side and sitting atop it was a guy from the gang with a few more milling about behind him. He said, "Not all of us were like Luther. There's actually a split in the gang right now. Help us with that and we'll help you." I thought for a moment, decided I couldn't trust any of them and it might be a trick, but before I could answer the embankment was peppered with rifle fire and the guy dropped dead. The others dove for cover and I slinked down on the inside of the right embankment. Looking over the edge I saw one of the Destroyers on a second floor balcony firing down. The guard rail atop the embankment and the top of the staircase was being pelted so I crawled farther over until I couldn't see him but looking to the left now more armed thugs were emerging onto the balconies of the opposite building. I couldn't avoid both angles so before they could assume ambush positions I crawled down the stairs quickly as they really unloaded on the spot, got hit in the leg, had to keep it extended as I rounded the corner.
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I was working at the bar on a Sunday. Usually slow. I got slammed like it was a Friday night so Erin and boss Tom showed up. I remember taking liberal breaks despite the busy pace, going out on the patio to smoke cigarettes with the regulars and whatnot leaving them to deal with the mess. At some point I came back in and because people were tired of waiting for drinks a guy was behind the bar making himself a mixed drink. I fought my way to him through the crowd, tripping over chairs. "We don't sell liquor on Sundays. Get out from behind my bar." His response was to drunkenly push me, in the face instead of the chest, and I pushed back with such force that he crashed into the register and half fell over. His girlfriend was bitching, zoned her out, then he put his hands up and backed out slowly. Later I went out to the patio and noticed he was out there with a bottle of mixer and a carafe. I grabbed it, went inside, him and his woman followed me in and confronted me yet again behind the bar. I said, "If you don't get out of my bar in the next five seconds, I will fuck you up. I will fucking kill you, do you understand?" As I reached for the bat they took off. Business petered out and everyone was gone so I started closing. Then I noticed a blurry mass in the air. Just a vague waviness. I walked over and touched it and felt like I was yanked out of reality. Stretched, pulled, like my entire mass was being sucked through a keyhole. I ended up between two walls. There was carpeting and a hole ahead of me that looked roughly sawn out with just enough room to crawl to it. I did and the sensation repeated with a distinct rubber band snapping effect. And just like that I was in hell.
Hell, instead of being a place of torture, was just everything that extremely conservative people hate and fear. Sex, drugs, rock and roll. Things that are fun. I was outside my bar but it was a bizarro version with way more flashing neons looking like the exterior of a strip club in a mescaline dream. People were in the streets being genuinely themselves, rambunctious, none fucks given. I went in and the place was packed so I immediately started conversations with people. Scantily clad women mingled, danced, poured booze down throats. After getting the attention of a server I started a tab and ordered a beer (called a Moe's?) and an eighth of bubba kush because apparently you can buy weed in bars if you find yourself visiting hell. I met a couple I started to drink with and I asked how one goes about paying for drinks.
"You didn't bring any money?"
"Well I didn't expect a portal to hell so I left my wallet back in reality. Is there some way to make money in hell? Is there like... an economy?"
They responded, "No, not unless you're here permanently."
I had to ask, "What happens if you owe money in hell?"
"Oh man... they send you to heaven if you owe when you die."
"Okay, so what's heaven like?"
"You don't even want to know. Picture this but the opposite. Boredom for all eternity."
They showed me how to travel back which I forget now but I went back, grabbed my wallet and returned to hell. We got high and I very quickly left with the couple still forgetting to pay my tab. A guy gave me two cigarettes. They wanted to take me to "the bridge." I was suddenly at the center of the biggest bridge imagineable, more epic than even remotely possible on our planet. The bridge was of oversized cobblestone, consisting of four enormous arches each hundreds of miles across. On my right was the area I had come from, an entire vibrant landscape of iridescent glow, the red light district city. On the left a dark mass of equal proportions, sullen, covered in what looked like white cobweb and what I assumed to be the living quarters. Down the middle and flowing beneath the bridge a river of fire that trailed off into infinity all the while spitting up tongues of lava like liquid dolphins, lapping at the air. It was beautiful.
Amidst the awe my mind went back to the unpaid tab. Without asking the guy responded, "They'll cut you slack and just hold on to your tab this time, no penalty. First-time tourist and all. Welcome home."
Been dreaming about the bar lately. After almost 8 months it finally worked its way in there. It presents itself interestingly because it's as much a workplace as it is a hangout so I'm extremely protective of my stomping ground.
I would normally begin to wonder how hell came in to the picture but after all the crazy godforsaken sleep-quests I've taken to the bowels of hades, or accidentally summoning Satan, or battling zombie dogs, stabbing hordes of people to death and whatever else, you'd think I'd stop asking questions I don't want the answer to.
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When the dream started I was in "my house." Felt feverish, my body wracked with pain. I called someone and was telling them that I wanted painkillers or just anything to help me not feel like death, and then she showed up. It was Maura Tierney the actress, who is a good bit older than me but beautiful in my opinion. In the dream we'd known each other a while and it seemed like she worked at a hospital because she started writinng some kind of application for me to make things easier when I see a doctor. It seemed like we had a tenuous relationship, like there had always been some unspoken sexual tension there, and I was tempted to say something about it but didn't. A few "friends" started showing up, some I know and some I don't. Maura left and one of the friends handed me a bottle of vodka or something which I gladly hit hoping to reduce the physical pain, and handed it off. They'd been invited to a friend's house, someone I didn't know, and were eager to head off. I was invited out of what seemed like social obligation, bored, and left with them.
CUT (DAY): We were outside the friend's house and the crew was now about 7 strong. It was your typical horror-movie assembly of beautiful assholes. It was a plain, faded white, average-size two-floor house among many others. No one was answering the front door so we went around back and tried there, but still no answer. The lead guy was checking his cell phone and looking in windows. He said, "I know this is the house, I swear. This is it. I don't know where he is, but he said he'd be here." He quickly got impatient and kicked the back door in. My view cut like a camera to the inside where I saw the door come off its hinges and then very slowly fall flat, kicking up a huge cloud of dust and revealing our concerned-looking group peering inside carefully, then it cut back to my view again.
It looked like no one had been in there in years. It was a fully stocked house with all the basics, there were even two cats running around, and yet it had been unoccupied by humans for a long time. As soon as we walked in I got this foreboding feeling, like I could sense the presence of evil. Something was very wrong with this house.
(NIGHT) Everyone started partying, busting out the weed, the booze, smoking cigarettes, and I felt very excluded. No one shared anything and I was largely ignored. We sat down to watch a horror movie after a while. We all sat on the floor and I was leaned up against the wall. One of the pretty girls with us sat next to me with a smile and layed her head on my shoulder. By about an hour in she was much more cuddled close and I was getting a strong vibe so I kissed her on the neck and pulled her in tighter, and she immediately pulled back and said, "I don't want my friends to think something's going on when it's not." I stood up completely and said loudly, "No problem, absolutely nothing is going on here, now is it? It's all a joke." Immediately I thought, "I just messed up any chance I had with her. No chance now." I thought about it for a moment and realized that there was nothing to mess up, she was a dumb bitch more concerned with what people think of her than about a guy trying to be romantic and treat her right, so fuck her. I spent the next several hours following the crowd room to room. They'd start a movie and after a few minutes I'd realize I was by myself again. A rainstorm was building up outside, howling wind and pattering against windows. Eventually I gave up and started wandering the creepy, dark house, occasionally seeing one person who would actively avoid me.
I think at this point I probably woke up very briefly, because the dream got fuzzy and then when it became clear I was much more lucid. I walked into the room they were in and they all just gave me this look, like, "You again?" It was the final straw. I said aloud, calmly, "You know what? Fuck this." I pulled out a heavy caliber revolver and the girl's eyes went wide before I shot her in the forehead, blood and brain matter splattering the wall. Before the rest could really react fully I'd put a bullet in each of them. I thought, "How convenient, six people, six bullets." The other shots weren't as accurate so there were a couple people writhing around in pain. I reloaded and finished them off and walked out the kicked-down door into the rainstorm.
Once I got outside all hell broke loose, literally. It was as if it was destined, like the house was some kind of black-magic ritualistic catalyst to release Satan and I'd been the dupe who had been driven crazy by it. I had a funny thought when the ground opened up beyond me and a 1000 foot tall demon made of lava rose up with a roar. "Shoulda stuck with Maura Tierney." Then I woke up.
Man. Pretty intense, right?
I've been feeling like a paraiah lately. But it's more of a subtle thing. I see it in peoples' eyes and it doesn't need to be spoken. I'm broke, can't find work because I have no car. I catch interest from women and as soon as they find that out contact suddenly breaks off. I want it to not be that important because I can't do much about it right now, and people get that so they're not forthcoming with things, but that doesn't mean I'm not picking it up in a tangible way. People see me as a burden and I'm starting to feel like I'm homeless again, even though I'm not.
It was raining when I woke up. And just nasty outside. Grey. Cold. Ugly. It's the kind of morning where I wake up depressed, knowing winter is coming and my prospects are dimming.
As fucked up as this dream was, it was likely a good bit of catharsis.