Machine-gunned a classroom full of hostage middle/high-schoolers, burst out of the school and gunned down a legion of cops, retreated to a nearby hill and sniped cars, kids and cops until someone pushed me into a river and I decided “well, it was going to happen sooner or later, guess I’ll just drown.” It was nice to not suffer from the usual “gun that doesn’t work” problem, (my penis works fine, thank you) but other than that I felt pretty awful when I woke up.
No rape dreams, no homicide dreams, just a rather disturbing dream involving fetuses:
I’m standing in a wasteland environment, but the ground is covered in little, dried-up, sun-blackened fetuses still in amniotic sacs that resemble cellophane. These fetuses are completely dried-up and dead and yet they are climbing me. They have twig-like umbilical cords and I somehow know that they are completely hollow under their thin, cracking skins. I didn’t do anything to the fetuses, but I am unable to help them.
A very disturbing dream, but I have a penchant for disturbing dreams, including one involving a little girl with a skull-like doll’s face (no eyes, just blackness) in a dress with a soccer-ball pattern on it. I don’t have recurring dreams, good thing. I don’t think I could stand them.
I dreamt that I beat a man until there was nothing left of him but something that looked like a small, limp, dirty, thin cube-steak.
I’m sure it wasn’t coincidence that this guy stole my girlfriend in real life… It was still disturbing though. I don’t recall any feeling any satisfaction.
Rape I think :’(
Wow, I do not recall having such violent dreams myself. Some of the dull ones I have had deal with having sex with my mother and “eating out” my sister, which is icky enough.
The only other disturbing dream I recall is sitting on the couch in my parents house and thinking how bored I was. I saw some small hedge clippers on the stool by the back door, then looked at my hands. I suddenly got annoyed that my fingers were uneven and proceeded to even them out. I sliced off part of my middle finger, but took too much off. kept going until all I had left of my hand was a stump squirting blood all over the floor and screen door. I remember calling myself all kinds of names because I couldn’t get my fingers the right length, and that when my mother gets home she is going to yell at me.
Suicide, by gunshot to the heart. In my dream, I was surprised I had the nerve to actually do it, and was surprised by the overwhelming sense of relief I felt while waiting for unconsciousness to occur, which I guessed would happen in anywhere from 3 - 10 minutes (since it wasn’t clear to what degree my heart continued to pump, albeit inefficiently).
IRL, I was seriously depressed at the time, but I’ve never owned a gun.
There was one dream where I was in the downtown area of a big city, on the roof of a skyscraper with a sniper rife. I was picking people off down on the street one-by-one, and nobody knew where the shots were coming from because I was something like 60 stories up and they couldn’t see me.
I also have had a bunch of dreams where I was a soldier (always a European-theatre U.S. GI during WWII) engaged in a firefight, doing things soldiers do. I don’t consider those terribly horrific because I’m a soldier after all, we have a job to do and the enemy is trying to do the same to us, but it can get pretty bad sometimes.
The violent dreams don’t particularly bother me anymore… one that did creep me out recently was eating a snack - it was a bucket like those from KFC, except the snacky-bits were human vertebrae, and I was contentedly nibbling the meat off them. Heck, I don’t even like ribs!! And even worse was waking up and thinking “wait a minute - that’s not the proper shape for human vertebrae!”
ick