Yabby Worm

Last night I had what was probably the most disgusting dream of my life, I woke up genuinely distraught and couldn't stop brushing my teeth. I was in a house which was a combination between the one in Plymouth, my old house in Wivenhoe, and my current one. I was taking a bath when suddenly I shat myself in the water. There was a thick stool in addition to the smaller flakes that dispersed in the water. As I lay amongst the shit, deciding whether I could still get clean in this water, the large stool floated towards the side of the tub and inexplicably, began to crawl up it. It reached the top, and flopped over the edge onto the floor. 

I jumped out of the water and grabbed a towel, watching as it slid along the tiles, twitching back and forth, with jellied globs of white showing through. At first I thought it was just some peculiar chemical reaction taking place, and was about to pick it up with a tissue and drop it in the toilet. But the closer I looked, the more I began to see. What resembled a serrated fin poked through, and also what seemed to be spines unfurling, like those found on a stickleback. Was it a fish? Overcome with revulsion, I tried to remember what I had eaten. The whole thing was now moving, definitely alive. Then a spider crawled past it, and the stool made a lunge, as though to attack it. A lump raised itself from the rest of the mass, and broke into a round mouth, which let off a scream.       

At this point, I could take the horror no more, and I ran from the bathroom, shouting for my wife. I closed the door to stop whatever it was from escaping. When my wife eventually arriving, finding me cowering on the stairs, she opened the bathroom door and my dog ran in. I saw the creature try to bite him, a grotesque mewling mouth on the end of a tube, six stumpy little legs, wings or fins plastered with shit. The thing looked like an insect, a germ, and a fish all in one. My dog ran away and the thing scuttled out of the bathroom and onto the hallway wall, leaving a trail of shit wherever it went. I began crying and bawling, berrating my wife for letting it out and ruining the house. "Why would you do that?!" I screamed.

I cried and whimpered on the staircase, watching in horror as my wife battled the creature with a shoe. She scraped it off the wall and began beating it over and over as I screamed at her to kill it. With each blow of the shoe, the creature let out a shriek. Eventually it was dead, but I could not stop crying and shaking, and the house was covered in shit. My wife carried the dead creature to the living room and laid out its body to take a look at it. She unravelled all its body parts, which turned out to be expansive. I watched from a safe distance. It had masses of spaghetti-like jellyfish tentacles that reached all the way across the floor, a carapace that fanned open into fleshy, lung-like wings, or fins, and a whole dangling spillage of pale helices.

Li identified the animal as a 'yabby worm', which takes up residence as a parasite in a human host by crawling into the mouth and lodging in the bowels, stealing food. Mine had obviously been displaced whilst I soaked in the bath. I was disgusted, and could not get the taste of shit out of my mouth. When I awoke, I immediately Googled 'yabby worm' and found that crayfish are called yabbies in Australia. My skin has been crawling since having this dream. 

                                    

Cooksbridge Safari

My first notable animal-related dream since being in China and I dreamt of home, but not quite the home I remember. I was in my Wivenhoe house, which had been transplanted to Cooksbridge and there relocated to a cul-de-sac near where my dog groomer lives. It was a sunny day and I was in the living room playing on the Playstation whilst my daughter played upstairs by herself. A small song bird, a wagtail or some sort, came into the house through the dog flap. When I ushered it out, I saw that there was also a pigeon half in the dog flap, with its back to me. I got rid of that too and went back to my game. Soon I noticed another animal in the flap, facing out towards the front garden, with only its rear on display. 

I mistook it for a cat, for a cat's hindleg it most certainly had, but when I got up to make it move, I saw a strange blue coloration running over its hindquarters. It turned so that I could see it in profile. It was a proboscis monkey, although one of its hindlegs remained that of a cat's. What was this improbable looking monkey doing in Cooksbridge, much less my property? I shouted to my daughter that I was going out to investigate, but I left the front door partly open. It was a blinding hot day, and I walked around to the front of the house, which communicated with the main road. Once there, I saw another creature squeezing through a hole beneath the boards that led to my cellar. What could it be?

I approached, my camera at the ready, sure that it was the proboscis monkey again. But what emerged was another species on monkey, a lion-tailed macaque. There must have been a whole bunch of them living under the house, using this hole as an entry point. The macaque sat on its arse and bared its sharp teeth at me before letting out a stomach rumbling growl. I backed slowly away, ill-equipped to defend myself against the onslaught of an enraged primate. It continued to growl threateningly, so I crossed the road to put some distance between myself and it. I couldn't return to the house whilst it remained, there was no way I could outrun it to the front door. All the while, it kept up its horrible growl.

Once across the road, I climbed onto the overpass at the railway station to get a better vantage point and take some photos for friends and family, who would never believe me otherwise. From my elevated position I was bewildered to discover more animals roaming the street. There were a couple of spotted hyenas skulking around, a giant panda with three cubs, and another bear of a similar size I could not correctly identify. An Andean or sun bear, perhaps. The two bears began to fight. The normally placid panda, in defence of its cubs, fastened its jaws to the neck of the unidentified bear and I heared a crunch as bones were ground. An old man joined me on the bridge and I pointed out the fight. He did not seem overly surprised by the sudden appearance of exotic animals in the village.

A smaller type of monkey, a vervet or spider monkey, scampered up the stairs to the bridge, so I descended on the opposite side before it could reach me, all the while talking the old man's ear off about how all this had started. I needed to get back to the house, where my daughter was left alone, but the only way to do so would be to take a long detour through the back fields. I made it through an alleyway and came out on the other end to see the farmer's field tranformed into a vista of mostly African animals. There was an elephant with its calf, a herd of zebras, lots of ostriches, a couple of okapi, some antelopes, a hippo mauling the other animals, and duelling bears wearing boxing gloves. Sticking to the perimeter fence, I began to edge around the field, hoping none would notice me.

About halfway across, I reached an upright red beanbag (like the kind found hanging in fun houses) which I could safely hide behind. I dragged it along with me, keeping myself hidden from the animals. But I did not see the lioness stalking me. She attacked from the side, accompanied by her young cub. I thrust the beanbag at her, trying to protect myself from her jaws and claws. The youngster was mewling for milk, getting in the way and providing a distraction. But the lioness was not to be deterred, and she pressed the attack. Again I blocked the worst with the beanbag, but I she was too strong and it was only a matter of time before she got a lethal grip on me. I wasn't going to make it... Luckily I woke up at that moment. 

Voodoo and Massacre

I was at the University of Essex with my wife and daughter, on a visiting trip. We were lodging at a rundown apartment in a shanty village where the north towers had previously stood. The Brutalist architecture had given way to scraggly fields, dirt tracks of red soil, and a large population of rural Koreans. It was our last day and my wife was in the apartment having a shower, whilst I was out walking the squares with my daughter. I noticed a foreign man throwing a large plastic bottle onto the floor and walking off. The brittle plastic shattered and scattered everywhere. Outraged at the damage it would do to animals if they swallowed it, I gathered up the shards, walked after the man and threw it back at him. His family came over to protest, all gibbering incoherently at me. My daughter asked me why he didn't put his rubbish in the bin and I told her to ask him. A slanging match ensued, during which he threatened my daughter. This would not do. We engaged in fisticuffs and had to be dragged apart by his family. I stalked back to the shanty village, cursing him for a degenerate.

When I arrived at the village, something alarming was taking place. Chickens were having their throats slit and gangs of shifty Koreans were congregating in corners, glaring daggers at us. I heard chanting coming from the main building of the village, followed by the screaming of a woman, who sounded as though she were being tortured. I hurried back to the apartment and told my wife to begin packing her things immediately, because we were leaving. She is always very slow getting ready and my frustation mounted as I heard more screams from outside. Her belongings lay scattered all over the apartment and she was taking her time in the shower. She wanted to know what the rush was, I insisted there was no time to explain. I suddenly realised with a sickening lurch that our daughter was gone. Frantically, I ran outside to search for her and found the village in an uproar.

All around, people were being butchered on the spot with machetes, their mangled bodies strewn around in the dust. My wife joined me to look for our daughter and we suspected that she had been taken to the main, central house where the chants were coming from. We broke in on what looked like a voodoo blood sacrifice, but there was no sign of our daughter. The men performing the ritual grabbed Li and a shaman uttered a curse on her. Her body went limp and her soul left her body, becaming trapped in a wooden curtain railing where it would linger forever more. Her voice continued to communicate with me as though unaware of her predicament. I tried to tell her that she was dead because she was too slow getting ready, and that our daughter was lost, possibly dead. Perhaps not the most comforting words I could have offered, but I was angry and scared.

I fled from the scene of the massacre and was chased by the cultists. They shouted after me that they were trying to exorcise the demons that infested the village and the only way to do so was to sacrifice people. I escaped into the fields whilst they fanned out in a search party to hunt me down. I managed to blend in with the crowd of a travelling circus and eventually lost them. I grieved for the massacre of my family and vowed to take revenge once I had gathered my strength. What followed was a sort of training montage where I navigated a series of obstacles in a city, traversing concrete alleys and climbing up ledges. I came to a long ladder that I had to ascend to complete the course. The was a lever at the bottom which, when pulled, set chainsaw blades whirring all the way up both sides of it. I had to climb to the top whilst the blades were active, keeping to the rungs only.

I was gribbed by vertigo and it took a long time to place the ladder in a sturdy position and summon the courage to climb it. Eventually, I kicked the chainsaws into motion and began the ascent. It was a wobbly climb and my legs almost gave way several times. I made it to the top and was back at the Korean shanty town. I pulled the ladder up after me and gripping it from the bottom, I was able to wield it like a giant chainsaw. The angry villagers descended on me with their machetes, but I was ready for them. With wide, sweeping attacks, I mowed them down with the ladder chainsaw. It was slow and cumbersome, but effective. Blood spattered in all directions as I hefted the ladder to and fro. I took grim satisfaction in tearing them apart, shards of bone and giblets of flesh spraying off. Still they continued to run at me, screaming that I was the demon made manifest. The massacre went on and on, but it would be too tedious to describe it all so I'll end here.

When in Rome

In my latest dream, I had moved back to Heartbreak Hotel, into my old room in the extension at the back of the house. I didn't have a child, and I don't think I was even married anymore, although Li was staying over in my room. I had devolved into a sort of adult teenager, and my shelves were full of the paraphenalia of yore. McFarlane horror figures, Resident Evil figurines, Star Wars toys, and action men. I also had a gaming PC set up on which I was playing Ark. I kept receiving expensive action men in the post, the latest being a weird looking solider with an extra large mouth. Li asked who was sending them, and I said I suspected it was Mr Robot. This was later confirmed on Whatsapp. Li told me to put a stop to it, as there was already too much clutter in my room, and she didn't think it was right that I was receiving pricey gifts.

In the next phase of the dream, I went on holiday with Mr Robot to Rome. We stepped off the ferry, and a short coach ride later, we were ready to explore the ancient city. I had with me my VR headset, which I hoped to use in the hotel we were staying at. I should have left it behind, as it was a cumbersome things to carry around. After exploring the dusty streets for some time, Mr Robot announced that he wanted to revisit a chapel near the tombs of the Ancient Kings, where we had apparently taken photos on an earlier holiday. It was full of tourists, mostly teenagers hanging around. In the centre of the chapel was a skeleton spread eagled on a big stone slab. We took it in turns to climb over the railing and lie down on the skeleton. When we did so, a trick of some holographic technology installed made our bodies disappear, leaving only our heads on the skeleton. We attracted the attention of some other tourists who were jealous of what we were doing. We took some silly photos and were then approached by a young Asian girl. bemused by our antics.

Mr Robot began to mingle and flirt with some of the teenagers, I sat down with the Asian girl and chatted for a bit. We both learned that around noon, the entire city would be flooded by the tides and remain submerged for two hours. During this time, locals and tourists usually absconded to high rise hotels for siestas or bars and restaurants for recreation. I looked down into the courtyard below the chapel and saw that the water was already lapping up the walls and flooding the streets. It was too late to go back to our hotel. Mr Robot was excited to go drinking and pooning with the teenagers and he wasted no time in diving into the water with them. The only way to access the rest of the city now was to hold one's breath, swim beneath some archways, and out onto the main road where the restaurants and bars were situated.

It took me a little more time to make up my mind to follow, and whilst I delayed, the water rose higher. I bobbed on the surface, weighing my options. I considered waiting it out back in the chapel, but everyone had left and it would be lonely. I also realised that now even the chapel's entrance was underwater, so I would need to dive under to go back there anyway. I might as well try and follow Mr Robot and the others. I dived below the cool green water and forced myself to keep my eyes open. With some strong strokes, careful not to disorient myself, I swam beneath the archway and into the flooded thoroughfare. There were a few fish swimming around, banded red and white groupers with frilly fins. I avoided them and resurfaced. I saw several other swimmers disappearing in different directions, down various submerged streets and alleyways, but no sign of Mr Robot.

In this main plaza were some larger fish, long and ribbon-like, churning up the water in agitation. They looked like oarfish, and I gave them a very wide berth. I would need to control my phobia whilst I found my way around. I climbed out onto some stone steps and followed them up to a smoky restaurant. I couldn't see anyone recognisable inside, and it seemed to be reservation only. I wanted to find a rooftop terrace where I could sit and knock back some cocktails until the flood subsided. I spent the next two hours alone, wandering aimlessly. Eventually, the water ebbed lower as the tide retreated, and the raw stink of sewage rose to greet me. All around, green sludge caked the cobbled roads, columns, statues, and railings. Dead fish lay everywhere, flapping feebly. Cleaning vehicles appeared and began scubbing the bespattered streets.

I decided that I wanted to go back to the hotel. It was a long journey trying to avoid stepping on all the dying fish, and at one point a small octopus. When I got back to the hotel, I saw with relief that we were on a high enough storey that our belongings were nice and dry. However, with a sinking sensation, I realised that I had left my VR headset in the chapel. Rome is known for its vagrants and pickpockets, so chances were high it would be gone, but I had to try. I couldn't afford to lose £500. There was still no sign of Mr Robot, he must have been still out enjoying himself, so I headed off alone. I got very lost trying to retrace my steps and relocate the chapel. I tramped the sludge-caked central thoroughfares, dazzled by the stone statues of gods, heroes, lions and statesmen. The cleaning vehicles were out in force, sucking up the detritus of the flood. It seemed crazy that this happened every day, and I thought about what an inconvenience it must be to live there.

Hours later, I was hot, tired, and hungry, and no closer to finding the chapel. I even caught a tourist tram that went all over the city, getting off at the Tombs. I had a good look around, but the city had seemed to change its layout since the flooding, and everywhere looked the same. There was nothing for it but to return to our port of origin, where we first got off the ferry, and go from there. I was at the coast, the sea behind me twinkling vast and blue. Before me lay a dusty road leading up a wooded hill, at the top of which was a large marble building that tourists had to pass through to reach the city. We had been here earlier for passport control. Still mindful of the many fish scattered around, I retraced our steps. So far so good. I remembered some wooden planks we had ascended. As I traversed these, a bellboy ran out and began to shake them vigorously, whilst I struggled to retain my balance. It was supposed to make things exciting for tourists, but now it was more of an annoyance. I just wanted to find my VR set and join up with Mr Robot.

I reached the top floor of this building and emerged into the street, but the place remained like a labyrinth. I cursed myself for not having paid attention when we first arrived. Alleyways twisted off into Escherean convolutions, passing through bazaars selling bric-a-brac, opium dens, cafes, and the like. I walked in hopeless circles, trying to find identifying landmarks but failing to commit the geography to memory. I find it very hard to get lost in real life. Eventually I woke up, annoyed that I had been unable to find the chapel. There is always that slight delay upon waking, where half of your brain is still in the dream, trying to tie up unfinished business. This time is was particularly irksome. Somewhere in Rome, an Italian teenager is having the time of his life playing with my VR set. The psychogeography and surreal landscape of the flooded city was inspiring enough that I will eventually work it into a novel.

Greenstead Kinkajous

I had an involved dream of myself travelling back and forth through the mean streets of Greenstead at night on some forgettable errand, accompanied by my name Beibei. Most of the journey consisted of traversing a long dark alley behind houses. Garages, garden fences, and dustbins lined the alley, with intermittent bushes hiding hungry animals. We were constantly approved by the kinkajous that lived in the alley, begging us for food. They were strange creatures in that they were entirely devoid of their characteristic woolly fur. Indeed, they looked as though they had been flayed, with their pink bald flesh lit up by my torch. Although they were not hostile to me, I was worried they might bite my dog, who kept chasing after them. I called him back again and again but he ignored me. I don't remember much else about the dream other than the kinkajous.

Essex University Werewolf

Last night I was back at the University of Essex, working at the International Academy's Learning Resource Centre. Part of my job was to arrange training sessions for prospective students to become Jedi, but it never really amounted to much. Apart from a scattering of International students, there were no staff members present and no management to offer guidance on what I was supposed to do. The university was hollowed out and was more like a ghost ship than a centre for learning. It could be that it was the holidays.

At one point during my lonely shift, I left to go to the toilet and encountered a huge female werewolf with long brown hair, a terrifying face, and an ear-shattering scream. She seemed to be stuck mid-transformation, which made her even more horrifying. I ran for my life, she in hot pursuit. Through classrooms, down corridors, upstaircases and down into basements I ran, but I couldn't shake her. Just when I thought I might have lost her in the university labyrinth, she loomed up in the room before me and let out her nerve-shredding scream.

I was almost paralysed from fear, but somehow I managed to run back the way I had come. There's nothing more frightening than when you're being chased only for the pursuer to suddenly appear in front of you. I don't think I've ever been more scared of a monster in a dream. The most probable reason for dreaming this nightmare is because the same night, I tried Resident Evil Village in VR for the first time and was scared out of my wits.