A Dream Diary #11 - December 2022
We – myself and another agent - are in an old abandoned industrial complex, on the platform beside a railway, hunting down a smuggling operation. Two men are packing crates on the platform ahead of us. We creep towards them, using the pillars as cover. One of the men walks away towards the building at the end of the platform. I sneak up behind the other and, placing an arm around his neck, smother him until he falls unconscious. My partner goes on ahead, after the other one. I’m about to follow when I realise that I really need the toilet. I’m close to bursting, in fact. I hurry around the complex until I find a building that, from the sign over the door, I see is some kind of summer school, like a training camp for smugglers maybe. I approach the door, hoping to find a toilet inside. Peering through the glass, I see a couple of children talking to a receptionist. I feel bad about bursting in on them – they’re only kids, not smugglers (yet?) – so I wander away to find somewhere else to relieve myself.
A deep stream runs in front of a series of caves, like a natural moat. There is something inside those caves; something I need to do, but something that fills me with fear. I enter cautiously, and discover I am inside a huge, labyrinthine ancient castle. It smells dank and noxious. Water spills through from somewhere near the ceiling, but there are no holes up there; nothing to let the sunlight into this dark haven. I climb a vertical shaft, clinging onto wooden beams and hauling myself upwards. I hear sounds of movement, rustlings and thuds, getting closer as I ascend. Something flitters near my face. I am not alone. A dark form swoops into me, bites at me, knocking me from the beams. I fall back down onto wet and rocky ground. A figure stalks around me, tall and cloaked. I get up and run, scrambling through debris and searching desperately for an exit.
I am stuck in a chrono-loop, trying to destroy the starship of our lizardine enemies. We have made thousands of attempts, myself and my comrades, to reach their power core and cause it to malfunction. Each attempt has ended in failure, with our own deaths, and the enemy surviving. Each time I am returned to our briefing room, where we revise the plan. But on the last attempt I discovered a way into their commander’s throne room: a small square duct, some kind of maintenance port or something, with a tiny entrance on the hull of their vast ship. This time, we go directly through this. I lead the way, the others following behind, gripping to the ridges on the walls of the port to avoid being pulled back out into space. We hit the gravity field and must quickly readjust, now clinging to the same ridges to avoid falling into the ship. I lower myself down into the throne room, and aim my blaster at him, but one of my comrades falls to the floor beside me, causing him to turn and instantly turn on a forcefield, blocking us off from himself and the rest of the ship. We are stuck. We cannot die. We cannot loop. When the others catch up with me, we make a decision – we will have to kill ourselves and start over.
I’ve gone back to my old university during the holidays. I’m not sure how to book accommodation, so just pick a flat that seems empty and move in. Empty of humans at least – the shelves and units are full of someone else’s stuff, but I’m sure they must have gone home for the holidays because students always do. I take a walk around campus – it seems to be one long building now, that leads straight through every department. Media, humanities, the theatre, and a huge white multi-faceted prism filled with walkways and stairwells that is the new medical facility. I see nobody I know, so decide to go back to my flat to sleep. I’m awoken the next morning by a Chinese family outside talking loudly and entering the building. Clearly some students are already coming back. I panic and leap out of bed, throwing my clothes on loosely as I leave the flat. I suppose I will need to find the accommodation office and find somewhere that I can officially stay. I end up sitting in a row of chairs in the corridor of the main building, still trying to rearrange my clothes so they are on properly, while a group of academics sift through papers on the counter beside me. They are discussing students who can read their work at an upcoming conference, and mention my name. Panic starts to return – I came here for a holiday, not to appear at some event. I leave the room, and search for the accommodation office, but there are no signs and nobody I ask seems to know where it is.
I am trying to move but cannot feel anything, or see anything, or feel anything at all. I try to shout, but no sound emerges. If I have a body - or any physical presence at all - I am no longer aware of it. I do not know what is having these thoughts, but still describe it as ‘I’.