I had a nightmare a long time ago, but for some reason I never realized it until now. It's truly one of the most horrifying dreams I can remember ever having, yet for some reason I never remembered it until a few minutes ago.
I was on some sort of street, out in the middle of nowhere. Not Nowhere, Kansas, but more like Nowhere, Maine or Wisconsin or some place like that, because the houses had this distinct feeling like they were from around the time of witches and all that. They were obviously old, the white paint being chipped down to revealing large patches of wood, and the houses themselves were spaced very far apart, the yards seemingly stretching on forever.
It was very empty. I couldn't feel a single soul for miles. It didn't help that a forest loomed just beyond the backyard, hiding the horizon. It felt like something out of the intro to Are You Afraid of the Dark. I remember seeing a... Fuck, what were they called... The little spinning things from playgrounds.
These things.
It was abandoned and rusted, and just made the entire thing more creepy.
I don't know why, but I felt the sudden urge to get into one of the houses. As if by staying out there, I was going to be devoured by the loneliness. Little did I know that by going inside I was absolutely fucked.
All I remember was that I was on the second floor. Walking through a hallway with a wooden floor over to a window, I wanted to get towards the light, since the house was filled with darkness.
I turned around, and there they were. I knew they were spirits, but what the god damn fuck was I on before I went to sleep.
Thinking back to how I felt when I saw them, all I can say is "a big ball of dead hair." That's not at all what they looked like, but looking at them gave a feeling of being surrounded by death, being choked by it. Their very presence was that of nightmares. They were there, but not. It was like... Watching TV without the sound on. Almost like they drained out all the sound and colour and everything good in the world. Like the Dementors from Harry Potter, but not designed for a childrens' book. Something that'd never get approved for a childrens' book.
Merely looking at them was paralyzing. Not only in body but in mind. I found myself stuck, motionless, gazing into them, and not being able to think. Nothing about them was truly shocking. They weren't floating gore, nor skeletal horrors. They were just... Horrifying, just by their existence. Looking at them caused this horrible void feeling in your entire being.
I don't know how in the fuck I managed to disregard all this until now, but I am definitely not going to sleep anymore.
Oh, tl;dr Nemo is just being his crazy old self again
