Dreams about snakes are the worst. I hate snakes. I'm afraid of snakes, and when I dream about them once, they will ususally sprout up again in another dream, teasing me, taunting me, scaring the fuck out of me.
This morning, just before I woke, I dreamed I was on some sort of mission with my ex's dad and my grandson and a guy from work who I used to have a major thing for, but not so much anymore since he married some pregnant girl.
We were on a road trip. I guess we needed to travel in order to achieve our mission. We ended up having to share a motel room. I suppose there were no other rooms available, or maybe we were just simple poor folk and couldn't afford two rooms and still have enough gas money to get home.
I slept on a cot in the room and my ex's dad and the guy from work slept on the big bed with my grandson between them. (Everybody kept their clothes on. This is not a sex dream.) For some reason I got the impression that were were trying to protect my grandson from some unknown evil out there in the world. Something was after him, and it was our duty as his guardians to keep it from getting him.
I was sleeping and dreaming in the dream. I dreamt about my old high school friend who killed himself several years ago. He was trying to talk to me in the dream, but he couldn't form words because he was little more than a small cloud of black smoke, but I knew it was him, and I knew whatever he was trying to say was very important. I felt like he was trying to pass through me, as if he could get his message across by some kind of weird ghost osmosis, but it wasn't working. I could feel his presence and his urgency, but I couldn't translate it into a recognizable message. Perhaps if we had been better friends in life, I would have known what he meant, but we weren't, and thanks to his fatal actions, we never would be.
In that dream, just as he was beginning to be able to talk, a group of demons slithered out of the Universe, grabbed him and pulled him down to Hell. As they were pulling him, he corporealized, and their talons tore into his flesh as he screamed and struggled to free himself. His blood was gushing out. As he was sucked down into the crevice that had opened up for him, his blood spattered across my face and began to burn me like acid. I screamed in pain for myself and in fear for my dead friend's soul.
When I dream inside a dream, I will sometimes be able to fool myself that the dream I'm waking into is reality. Sometimes, I know the difference. I woke on the cot in the motel room, kicking at the sheets and yelling my friend's name. When I realized I had been dreaming, I felt foolish and tried to hide myself under the sheet, but the guy from work was already awake and crawling into the cot to comfort me. At this point, he turned into my ex-boyfriend. For about a half of a second, I wondered about that, but my thoughts were quickly interrupted by a loud rattling sound.
Turning, we both saw a large yellow snake head poking up through a hole in the ratty carpet. It was laughing at us. Laughing! It had found us, and it was about to devour us. We hopped up, and my ex's dad hopped up to deal with this increasingly dangerous situation. My grandson had crawled under the bed. He was giggling at the bright yellow snake head. It looked so funny to him, and if we didn't know it was trying to kill us, we might have thought it was pretty bizarre.
My ex's dad tried to stomp on the body of the snake that was still trapped by the carpet, but the snake was too quick and slithered out, toward my grandson. My heart was beating so hard, I couldn't hear anything else.
Thankfully, my ex-boyfriend snatched my grandson away and kicked at the snake's head, sending it through the air toward the guy from work. (I wondered only for a millisecond about why the two of them were there at the same time, when just a minute ago, one of them had actually transformed into the other. Something to ponder later, since we had more pressing issues to think about at the moment.)
I reached for a weapon, but only found a fork I'd been using before the dream began. When the snake came for me, I plunged the fork into its face, but it retracted and pulled away. It slithered under the cot. I was desperate to kill it. When it sprang itself at me again, I let out a war cry and sunk that fork right into the meaty flesh of the snake. I stabbed it into the floor and twisted the fork so the flesh tore away from itself. within seconds, the head popped off. There was no blood.
My ex's dad, for some unknown, ridiculous reason, grabbed the snakehead and bit into it, feasting on it like corn on the cob. Disgusting, I thought. But not near as disgusting as watching his face corrode from the venom. The skin around his mouth was eaten away and fell from his jaw in bloody chunks.
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