Dream Log #713

Being chased through awkwardly built rooms by multiple figures who are attempting to surround me.

Capture iminent.

Dream flashes forward, skipping formalities.

I find myself strapped to an interrogation chair, a table of instruments and torture mecha to my right. The door opens, and I watch myself walk through the door in a bright white apron.

Suddenly I find myself standing in the door way in a white apron, looking at myself in the chair. I proceed forward as if I had rehearsed what to do.

Watching myself from the chair again, the Me in white picks up a thin wooden spear, holds my head firmly by the hair, and pushes it through the top of my nose and out one of my nostrils.

I scream, once again as though it were something rehearsed. There is no pain, or fear.

I find myself in the white apron again, holding a second wooden spear, and I proceed the grip the Me in the chair’s head by the hair and push it through the top of my nose once again, and down through the other nostril.

The Me in the chair screams, and when it subsides I find myself once again in the chair, watching the Me in white look on.

I watch him pick up a long black piece of firm metal wire; crooked and twisted, about a foot in length, and begin pushing it into my ear, gripping the other side of my head for leverage, and wiggling it back and forth for easier penetration. I wince and struggle.

In white again, looking at the piteous display of my own mangled face; struggling against the slow deadly penetration of the wire. I stop pressing for a moment and impulsively glance over my shoulder to the left. In a mirror I see us both; he in the chair, me hunched over him, and I am for the first time alarmed… for while it is the one in the chair who is accepting the wire into his head, it is the Me in white who’s ear is bleeding uncontrollably.

The apron stains and darkens.

I awake.