Silberrad Lions

The End is a big student party that takes place on campus once a year at the end of exams. Typically the squares are heaving with students who have been drinking since the early afternoon and in recent years, a small army of security guards have maintained a presence to control who enters and leaves. On the day of the End, university staff are advised to leave work an hour early in order to avoid the lockdown.

Last night I dreamt that the festival would be taking place predominantly in the new Silberrad student centre, where I work full time. I was working during the event on the ground floor, whilst the Vice Chancellor entertained distinguished guests on the first floor, and the SU decorated the building in the manner of an old-fashioned Italian town. It was already dark outside by the time the first of the students made their appearance, and despite security's perimeter barricades, some townies looking for a fight had somehow managed to slip in.

Two of the men started following me around and giving me grief, but because I was in work mode, I was not allowed to break protocol and defend myself. I reported them to security but they had their hands full and were unable to help. Some hours later, I heard a scream, followed by a roar, and the next thing I knew, the centre was overrun by lions. For some odd reason, the fact there were lions was not so much surprising as the fact that they were able to get past security without anybody noticing.

As the chaos unfolded, I took the opportunity to revenge myself on the two townies. I picked up a broken drinks tray and gashed the bigger of the them across the back of his neck, severing his spinal chord with its sharp side. He slumped to the ground gushing blood and his friend came running at me in rage. I lured him away to the lobby where I knew the lions were and left him to his fate, then made my escape up a back stairwell.

Having a more detailed knowledge of the new building, I was able to avoid a good mauling, at least until the end of the dream when dawn broke and the lions started hunting me properly. Just as they had me cornered, a park ranger dressed as a great white hunter turned up commanded them to lay off me. He told me not to show any fear, as they were just like big dogs, with more bark than bite. Looking about me, I saw that many students were already dead or dying, and the car park was full of ambulances and police cars.

My attempts to stand up to the lions were pitifully meek, my gaze deflected by their glowing amber eyes and enraged, wrinkled snarls. Sensing my fear, they came running at me again, nipping my arms with their fangs and raking my back with their claws. The ranger told me to stick my elbows out and push them off, but the experience was too traumatic so I decided to wake up. This is not the first time I've dreamt about lions being a threatening presence.

Below is an image from Giovanni Battista Piranesi's 'Imaginary Prisons' series which I'm convinced has wrought a strong effect upon my dreamscapes over the years.