Entry 11:
Often I find myself very shaken by the thought of people being nailed down to things like crosses. Maybe it’s because of how brutal that act is and how it’s in the realms of realistic torture. My fears are pretty clear to me and while my past dreams have been horrific, I can’t say all too many of them tap into my main, specific fears too much.
The dream I had that night opened with me laying on top of a circular block of wood. Everything around me was dark. It was just me and that wooden block. I moved a bit to start to get up, but something grabbed me and tugged me down hard back onto the table. The thing that pulled me down kept a strong grasp on me. It felt like a collection of tiny hand-like things on my skin. I looked over to both my sides to see tiny, slimy, hand-like tendril things had risen up from the under the wooden block and were now holding me down. They looked all too familiar which somehow really didn’t help at all. Then a large tendril crawled up from bottom of the wooden block. And another crawled up, with a hammer in hand. With it came another instantaneously with a shut fist. The empty handed tendril stroked my face. I could feel my pupils constrict and get small as the repulsive thing brushed against my cheek. The only thing I wanted was to get out, out, out. After the disgusting tendril stroked my face, it went over to my left hand and pinned it down. Not tightly in order to inflict pain, mind you, but just so I couldn’t move my hand. My heart rate went up but I didn’t want to look away from the tendril. I looked over the the other two tendrils. The one with a closed fist opened itself to reveal a fist full of nails. It put them all down beside me, but kept one in it’s palm. I didn’t want to admit it in my mind, but I knew what was about to happen. With the one nail between two of it’s finger-like appendages, it slowly lowered it above my hand in the spot it wanted. Desperately I tried to flail and struggle my way out, but those smaller tendrils tied me down with their grip. Then without warning, it struck into me. It being the hammer. I cried out in agony but it was cut off with another blow to my hand by the hammer. The nail had totally fastened my hand down. Then the second nail came. On the same hand though. I guess I was dealing with perfectionists. The next strike of the hammer struck down my momentary humor and my eyes watered immediately after. Not ready for my right hand to go through the same hell, I fidgeted it a bit out of fear. It was loose. Perhaps preparing for the nailing of my right hand, the smaller tendrils holding it down had let go of their grip around there. I didn’t give myself one more second to think. I lunged at the tendril holding my left hand down with my now free hand. Digging my nails into it was so satisfying. Everything went black then. The hammer-wielding tendril has delivered a blow to my head with said hammer. Before I awoke, I heard ringing from the blow. After that I was back in my bed and what greeted me was a nasty headache.