01/09

Bags (A Nightmare Story)

This is an actual account of my nightmare last night. It was incredibly disturbing. I realized after writing it down that it reads like a short story so I have decided to share it with you. That is also the reason for the abrupt ending. 

I am sorry if the conclusion leaves you with more questions than answers.

Last night I had this dream. In this dream I lived in a massive city full of back alleys and tall skyscrapers kind of like New York but much more dark and eerie. This entire city appeared to be a polluted cesspool of filth. My house in the dream felt very similar to my real house but in a new location and with a 2nd floor. I also had an unidentified job and I lived by myself. It felt like I had a mild sense of amnesia because I could not tell you much about myself in this place. Every day I would walk to and from work down these dark dingy back alleys lined with garbage, stagnant dirty water, and old metal trash cans.

One day I was walking home from work and I heard someone or something calling to me with a raspy choked voice from the darkness of the alley way. I walked closer to inspect it and noticed the sounds coming from behind a group of old trash cans gathered next to an old filthy brick wall stained with years of smoke and pollution. I stepped closer hearing the gasps more loudly as I closed the distance between me and the trash cans. To my utter horror laying on the ground in a pool of dirty garbage water I found a woman’s severed head in a clear plastic bag lined with spatters of dried blood from a rotten stump.

Decay had set in long ago. Its lifeless eyes were glossy white and the skin was dirty, dark, and grey. The veins had blackened along with its cracked peeled back lips and dried out tongue. Its stump was a mass of flesh, torn muscle, and a broken spine. Suddenly, its lips began to quiver… The eyes were moving and the head was calling out to me in a horrible dead voice… It was asking me for help. It looked like it had been there for weeks with no one but the garbage to keep it company. No one seemed to have noticed or to have taken an interest in finding the person who left it here. In this dream I could not speak but only be spoken to so it was assumed that I must have agreed to help the head so I took it home and laid it on my floor next to the closet.

~After this happened there was a bit of a time skip (because dreams)~

During this period going back and forth to and from work down this alley way I seemed to have collected more and more of these severed women’s heads from the same location all in the same state of decay, their stumps carelessly hacked away. All of the heads had called out for help in the same choked voice and I had obliged.

Some time went by after that and my days were filled with paranoia and anxiety. There were no leads to track down and no evidence to follow, only the voices gasping out in the darkness of my bedroom. The decapitated heads spoke seemingly only to me though I had no evidence for my belief. After all I was the only person who had come in to contact with them, right?

One morning I awoke to all of the heads groaning and gasping in a much more frantic way than they had before. Their dead lifeless white eyes were open wide staring straight in to my soul full of fear and panic. They were shrieking out choked cries that sounded like a warning, telling me “Don’t look outside.” “Don’t answer the door.”

Then I heard a knock… Someone was here… Down stairs… I looked out the window and I saw a squad of police cars downstairs. They were banging on my door. A feeling of utter panic and terror swept through me because I did not know what to tell them. Would these cops believe my story? Would they be able to hear them speak too? Would they think.. I was the killer?

~Suddenly I awoke. The dog was barking. The dream had ended.~

Share

Leave a Reply