Dark Dreams

[Keith Stryton III]

Not sure if this is the right place for this, but wasn't sure where to post. But I thought I would let you know about a dream I had the other night. It was very disturbing and distressing. Basically I was in a prism of glass and all I could see was myself. There was bagpipes playing in my ears. I punched the glass and fell through into a dark room. I was sitting in the living room of my house, and Melvyn and Sam and Nigel were there all having a chat and drinking cocktails. I touched Melvyn's shoulder but it crumpled under my touch and he began to scream. Sam shook me hard and then his eye balls burst all over me and his tongue slid out of his mouth really slowly and plopped on the floor. Nigel's face went really really red and splits appeared at the corners of his mouth. Slowly his head bent back and he kept making these gurgling noises and his ass popped out through his throat and that was when I realised he was being pulled inside out. I heard an alarm. I realised it wasn't an alarm. It was my screams. By now Sam called the police and the police broke into my house and were reaching for me with their hands and their torches. "Mr Stryton? Mr Stryton? Mr Stryton!" That last bit wasn't a dream.

[skyblue342]

...creepy man...very creepy.

[Keith Stryton III]

I know. I had another one today. I fell asleep in my armchair half way through a bowl of Ready Brek and dreamed I was chasing someone through a black room. At the end of the room was an open door and there was a brilliant whiteness beyond it. I chased the figure and he went through the open door. When I passed through the door, I entered the black room again. The figure was running ahead of me, though slightly nearer this time. I ran faster, and nearly caught up with him, but he passed through the door. I followed and we were in the black room again. I gave chase, and my fingertips brushed his shoulder just as he passed through into the whiteness. Again I found myself in the black room. This time I caught the figure before he had a chance to go through the doorway and I spun him around and the figure was me. I stared at me, and that me began to laugh - a hysterical, high-pitched, nervous laugh. "Now you've done it," he said, and with that the door slammed shut and complete darkness swallowed us up. I was still screaming when I woke in my arm chair, Ready Brek all over the floor. My screams made a picture fall off the wall.

As I left my house, later, my neighbour Sam came up to me in the street. "You've really got to see someone, Keith," he said.

[newb]

Originally Posted by Keith Stryton III

I know. I had another one today. I fell asleep in my armchair half way through a bowl of Ready Brek and dreamed I was chasing someone through a black room. At the end of the room was an open door and there was a brilliant whiteness beyond it. I chased the figure and he went through the open door. When I passed through the door, I entered the black room again. The figure was running ahead of me, though slightly nearer this time. I ran faster, and nearly caught up with him, but he passed through the door. I followed and we were in the black room again. I gave chase, and my fingertips brushed his shoulder just as he passed through into the whiteness. Again I found myself in the black room. This time I caught the figure before he had a chance to go through the doorway and I spun him around and the figure was me. I stared at me, and that me began to laugh - a hysterical, high-pitched, nervous laugh. "Now you've done it," he said, and with that the door slammed shut and complete darkness swallowed us up. I was still screaming when I woke in my arm chair, Ready Brek all over the floor. My screams made a picture fall off the wall.

As I left my house, later, my neighbour Sam came up to me in the street. "You've really got to see someone, Keith," he said.

Your neighbor Sam.......he wouldn't be a dog by any chance.....would he?

[Keith Stryton III]

No, no, he isn't a dog. He's a man. I know he watches me, when I go outside I see his curtain twitch. I offered to take him to the pub, to buy him a drink, but he's never interested. It's a shame really for both of us; he just doesn't see that. He's on his own and I'm on my own and there's just a wall separating us and it's so daft and sad, isn't it?

Anyway, I'm not posting about that. It's nice to be able to use this medium to speak to you all. It's important for me, so thank you. I like to get things off my chest, especially when you're on your own. I go to the gym, sure, but no one wants to talk, not even when you offer some of them a bottle of your water. And I've got work - I didn't get the part of Brick, and FOG ISLAND has fallen through, but I'm in rehearsals for a new play in Keynsham with the amateur dramatics, I'll let you know how that goes. Still, being indoors on your own, well, it gnaws at you. It's like being in a hall of mirrors; you get sick of yourself.

Right, getting to the point, another dream:

I fell asleep on the floor last night and wandered through creeping tendrils of icy fog. A ramshackle house loomed, broken steeple jabbing through the fog like a broken finger. There was a sign creaking in the wind - KEITH'S HOUSE. I walked towards it, shuddered, pushed open the door. A moan of hinges. Glass cracking under my shoes. I stepped into stale, stale darkness. To my right - a set of stairs. All over the walls were pictures I remembered painting when I was a child: pictures of stick people and lemon suns and bubble cars. Slowly, I ascended. Stairs creaking, sighing, hissing. Now the pictures had changed. Up the stairwell there was writing: words from love letters I penned to a girl I once loved, scrawled all over the woodchipped walls. At the top of the stairs the darkness breathed...

Clive woke me up with a scream - "DON'T GO ANY FURTHER!" I sat up on the floor, dazed, disorientated, close to tears. I knew, and Clive knew, that if I went any further, than the house would have me. I wouldn't be able to come back. I would be there forever.

"May be I want to go. May be there's nothing left for me here," I told Clive, later.

The pepper pot sat silent on my tabletop.

I know I will dream about that house again. May be next time I will get to the top of the stairs. Who knows what waits for me there? I will. I will if I get three knocks in a day. I got two today (I didn't get a horror DVD through the post and I bashed my shin on the table). If I get THREE knocks at ANY point I will go up there. I will go. I will. I might not come back.

[Keith Stryton III]

I came home from a walk in the park where I watched the ducks and rearranged my chairs in my front room. I placed them in each of the four corners. Then I lay on my bed, face down, and whispered the words to a sacred verse. Now from darkness, there springs light; Wall of Sleep is cold and bright; Wall of Sleep is lying broken; Sun shines in, you are awoken. I got up then. I opened my bedroom door. The front room was silent, except for an intense humming. The chairs were where I had left them. But now there was a black door in the middle of the room. I walked around the door. It didn't seem to lead anywhere. I opened it.

Immediately I saw a scene from last night. Melvyn, Sam and Nige all on my sofa. They were laughing, but in their hands they held serpents. The moon shone through the window like a murderous face. Then, as I looked again, I realised Sam wasn't there.

"Where's Sam?" I asked.

Nige looked up at me. His voice sounded like a slowed-down record. "He went up there," he said, and he gestured to a flight of stairs in the corner of my room.

"I've never seen that before," I said. I walked up there. Melvyn and Nige stood up from the sofa and watched me ascend. They didn't say anything. Their faces were dead white, blank.

I walked up and up and up. "Sam!" I shouted. "Sam!" I felt responsible. I invited him here, now he had vanished up a flight of stairs I didn't even know existed. My voice echoed around me.

"Keith!" Sam's voice. A distant, distorted echo. "Keeiiitthhhhhh"

"Sam!

"Keeeeeiiiittttttttttttttthhhhhhhhhhhhhhh"

"Sam!"

I kept going. I came to another door. I opened it, and fell into some foul smelling scraggy grass. Mist enveloped me. I got to my feet. There was that bloody house again, looming over me.

Keith's house.

Something moved to my left. I turned. Large grass stalks waving with my head on each of them. My expression was pained and obscene. Bloated red face, the face of constipation.

I walked quicker.

"Christ Sam, you didn't go up the stairs did you?"

I entered. I walked up the stairs. "Sam! SAM!"

Then the alarm went and I was awake. "Christ," I said, getting up. "What the hell was that all about?" I went downstairs and made myself a bacon sandwich. As I was munching it, I heard police sirens. I got up, moved to the window, watched. They swarmed around the block of flats. They took Sam out. He was naked. He didn't look good. He pinned me to the spot with his crazed eyes just before they put him in the van. "YOU!" he screamed. "YOU! GO IN THERE AND GET MY SOUL BACK! FIND IT! FIND IT! AAARRRGHHH BBLLLAAABBBBB AAABBBBBBB BLLAAABBBB Ia! Ia! YAAA fghtan! fghtan!pptthhhhh."

I watched the police car drive off. Then I closed the blinds and glanced at my watch. Bargain Hunt would be on in an hour. I'd worry about all this later.