So last night I had an epic Stephen King-esque kind of dream. I can't say it was entirely a nightmare since the first portion of it was more dramatic than horrific. I was living out in the country on this old semi-abandoned farm, and after realizing that my friends had been missing for a while, I saw that the door to the cellar was open--you know--one of those outside cellar doors that sits on top of the grass. So I decided to go in.
Almost immediately up walking down there, I fell deeper into the underground through a hole in the ground and soon got lost in the this underground, earthy labyrinth. I wasn't panicing though... not yet anyway. After a few hours of waundering around, I stumbled across my friends who had basically set up a camp in one of the unusually large and open caverns. They were just sitting around down there as if not much was wrong, so I decided to join them. In my first day down there, I managed to read a whole novel--a really long one that upon reflection, turned out to be a narrated account of my entire dream. In my dream I spent what seemed like hours reading the thing, and upon waking up, I wondered if I had really composed something resembling a novel or at least a short story or if I had just been remembering portions of something I had read or watched in the past.
Then we ate some food from their stash and went to bed. This is where the nightmare begins. We awake to three strangers running into our cavern, screaming. For a second, we all celebrate because we think we have been rescued, but those screams were not of the joyful variety. They quickly tell us they had been running from another member of their party who had gone crazy since they had gotten last in the passage and begun to run after people with the intent to kill them. So we take off, blindly running through the tunnels. We run into the crazy man and his devilish grin and unblinking, distant stare a few times, but we keep running and evade his attempts to make us his new victims, always wondering if we would not soon join him ourselves after losing our own minds.
Though I would like to say I just woke up now, the dream was actually not open-ended, and the old farmer, having seen the cellar door open, found us and was in the process of rescuing us when I woke up...
