Dream Log Post #11:
People ran all over the place in a college campus-like area.
Three people being chased by a hoard of zombies ran towards me.
One guy looked familiar, but I didn’t remember him.
I have no idea where we were, but we weren’t on campus anymore. Instead there was an old, small red house next to us. It was one story. We were in a tree standing on branches high enough where we could see the entire city in the distance. The top of the tree dipped down like a cup and we were sitting in the cup shape. The tree had branches sticking out of it at the top near where we were, but there were no branches on the lower levels of the tree. I have no idea how we got to the top of the tree if there were no lower branches to climb.
The zombies were crowded around the trunk and they continually walked into the tree.
Eventually we somehow came to the conclusion that one of us needed to fall down to the zombies because we’re all starving and then apparently we decided on one guy. He refused so one of us pushed him out of the tree cup.
Dream Log Post #12:
It was night time and I was walking out of a forest using only the light of the moon to guide me.
I had left the group I’d been traveling with in order to seek some help and/or to scout for more supplies.
Once I reached a house, I tapped my knuckle on the door and then asked in a whisper, “Is anyone home?”
I looked through a small hole in the fabric that covered up a window from the inside and saw an old man very much alive. He tip-toed away from the door so that he wouldn’t have to answer it.
I glanced to my left. There was a bunch of firewood stacked unstably. I kicked one of the logs out from its uneven base. A loud crash followed.
I said something along the lines of: I can make more noise for the walkers/zombies to hear unless you answer this door.
After a moment, the door opened and he welcomed me inside.
I asked for supplies or medicine or something else of that nature.
He refused at first.
Then he eventually agreed to help, but I didn’t remember why or how.
Then, for some odd reason, we were now magically in a roofless barn on the second floor where millions of walkers were on the first floor.
The old guy shot a shot gun. He was shooting randomly and nearly hit me multiple times, but he missed every time.
Meanwhile, I swung a crow bar like a sword and it looked like I was having way too much fun beating up the walkers. I was doing whatever I felt like.
Then I looked up to the moon. It was a beautiful full moon.
I turned into a wolf like the one from Danny Phantom.
A walker somehow got onto the second floor probably by the ladder that neither of us were guarding. It bit my arm.
Conveniently, and for some reason, my wolf-ish body was immune to their bites and scratches.
I ripped the walkers’ bodies apart limb from limb all by myself and then looked over my shoulder to find the old man. I saw him running away and sneaking out the back of the barn.
I thought about stopping him, but then I figured he didn’t matter anymore.
I jumped up towards the sky and now I could apparently fly too.