CULT DREAM

I've been typing with my eyes closed since 6:45pm, and it's now 7:24. I had a really creepy dream last night... I'm open to interpretations.
(I editted my free-write for minor grammar purposes, but I tried to keep it as real as I wrote it)...

I was in the back seat of a car with Victor Kim and someone else. The car was a black Dodge 300, and it was a year after ABDC (2010). We drove to a house and he dropped me off. I looked back and it looked more like a hearse. I waved back and he smiled and drove off. There were a lot of cars and I was expecting my dad to get mad. He was standing there but I just looked at him and walked past and into the house. Inside was a Filipino party. The house was at first, a regular two story, five bedroom house. It was implied that I was living there.

I wanted to know the history of the house. As I was going up the stairs with a Filipina friend, who disappeared and was no longer important, an Italian mobster with a jersey sports jacket, a royal blue shirt, and a gold chain around his neck called me down and asked if I had some meat. Apparently, we were renting out the basement to an Italian family. I wanted to know what the meat was for. He told me, “No questions,” but they're out of meat. I gave him some from the freezer, and he let me follow him into the basement. Inside was a cult.

They spread the meat all over their bodies and danced. Everything except the grey walls, (light grey, the floor was a darker grey), was the color of raw meat. People’s skins were the color of the raw bone, their faces covered by bone masks and visions all around me of men, women, and children savagely dancing and rubbing meat all over their face and chest and skin. The meat started to get worn and started clumping like powder and water in a child’s hands. It was horrific and terrifying, but in a mysterious way, mystifying, enchanting, and inviting. I felt I found a new civilization. But it wasn't right. They implied that they were cannibals, eating the meat raw and having no consideration for the human body and the laws of the post-cave man era. They were ruthless, demonic, and the taste of rust and blood filled my mouth as I breathed in the air. I stepped out, and the screen faded to black.

The next scene was like that of Max Payne 3, when Max emerges from the battle with Vlad. The cops bust into the manor just as the cult dances around the house, no fire, just dancing and rubbing meat and biting into the raw flesh. Blood drops onto the red carpet as the police seize the men first. The leaders shout, "Wait, wait. This is all a misunderstanding. We are not cannibals! This is only meat you can buy. We’re not cannibals! WE'RE JUST PRETENDING!" The men are escorted away, and the women and their babies and children are running around, frantic and screaming. Except they were screaming, "I can pretend better! We can keep pretending and I will be the best pretender of all!" The children attacking the officers were sized and the women and their babies, deadly quiet, settled in the corner room that the police over looked.

The women were frantic and could not fathom a life that they did not know. They started dropping their blood in puddles, then soaking their hair in shampoo and milk, letting their babies and left over children run and splash in the little lakes of blood, then letting them drink from the tips of their hair, sucking like guinea pigs from an experiment gone wrong. The women start to hum in an eerie song. They welcome the black Sabbath, the stars of iron and fire. They smile at their thirsty children, shivering from the poison of tainted milk and blood, but believing it is good flowing through their veins. Altogether as the view pans out of the room, the mothers sit and hum and chant for the day of reckoning, for the day of hellfire and flying serpents. Of dragons and thunder and the master they pray to. They sing a song of treachery and disbelief, fully believing the stars they seek. The scene fades to black.

In the middle of the night, the black mother walks near me and whispers, "I can't do this anymore... we need to get out." She opens her coat and reveals her child, much healthier than the others, and scared. The mother and the daughter are conscious of their sins and desire to repent. I watch them sneak past the person by the fireplace and they run out the manor doors. Everyone awakes to this commotion. Bright lights are blasted, and the figures of the mother and the daughter running away are being chased by the beams. She screams as frantically as she did when the officers raided the manor for the first time, but this time, for her daughter. The daughter is nowhere in sight. The women frantically run to the windows and cry, "we're not cannibals! We’re only trying to survive!"

The necromancer blocks the gate. He and another undead sorceress float towards the woman, trying to corner her. Vultures fly ahead. They both scream an agonizing sound, and just as the daughter reappears and runs to her mother, the mother is eaten by a dead tree. The blackened branches tear her apart and into the ground, like skeleton hands. The roots of another tear away the clothes of the child and leave her naked in the snow. Then they pull her under a dead pine, where her bruised and bare body is still visible amongst the dead needles. There is an eruption in the ground as the necromancer continues to scream. The sorceress weeps and inflicts pain upon her, the snow around her creating a ring of blood. The women watching from the balcony slowly begin to give up their resistance-- they start licking their lips. The girl is crying and all is a thunderous rage as the hundred foot pine is pulled into the earth quickly, only by trunk. As it levels into the ground, each branch and needle scrapes at her body and whips her face. When the pine is gone, the ground from which it once stood was brown, black, and red. The girl stands there, petrified. Her body is totally covered in cuts, tissue, splinters, and nails. The pine was once used to nail the tails of rats. Slowly, she is pulled in two, unable to make anymore sound, she croaks as her body rips up the middle. Then it seeps into the ground.

The vultures head straight for the manor, but I slam the wooden doors shut. Their never ending thumps roar through the empty home as the birds of death attempt suicide missions just to get the door open. I look at the women. All their babies are dead and grey, wrinkled and sucked dry. One woman is so tired she accidentally drops her child. I help her pick up the bundle. I flip the fur over and the baby is completely empty... only the skin and some bone remained, but its organs and eyes were gone. The woman begins to weep and cries, "we're not cannibals!... we're not... we are not.... are we.... are we not...” the other women look into their bundles and the empty babies start dropping one by one. They begin to run into the floor-to ceiling fireplace. They scream, and try to hold on to each other as their flesh become one, become none, and become dust. They are blind now, their voices are of demons now, but they attempt to eat each other's flesh. The old woman who lit the fireplace is hooded and stands by as the women are dancing in the iron and flame, trying to avoid the suffering they brought upon themselves.

A smile creeps from under the old woman's hood and she walks to the side of the fireplace. She reaches up, her skin bruised and boney and yellow and purple, and slams the gate down. I can feel the fire's heat on my body as the women burned and screamed, and when the gate slammed, and orange ash flew up into my eyes, I did not blink. I could not. I was in a staring contest with a black iron pentagram. The iron gate of the upside-down five pointed star was laughing at me. The heat escaped from the holes in between and I strangely reveled in the coolness the pentagram shaped allowed on my body. Now the women were frantic to get out, their faces trying to squeeze through the metal. The pentagram started burning hot, and their skin clung to the iron. They cried and cried until they could not cry anymore. The pentagram burned black, emitting ash whenever a bone fell from a hanging arm.

The vultures broke into the window and I ran into other rooms. The vultures kept ramming themselves into the doors, squawking and screaming. How could they find me? I ran past old furniture, dusty memories of a history so disturbed. When I passed an old mirror, my heart stopped. I slowed and walked back slowly, even though the vultures were soon to knock down the next door. The Iron Gate formed a pentagram outline on my body. I was covered in ash, and it wouldn’t come off my skin. A vulture tried to fight through the ventilation. I walked slowly toward it, looking into the eyes of my enemy. Except, I couldn't. Its eyes were sewed shut with hair, in the shape of an upside down star. I couldn't breathe, but I kept running. I had to keep running... I had to get out of here....

But I'd done this before... so many times before...