I Had A Dream And The Dream Happened

[p3nr0s3]

Hey guys. I haven't been around much, got a lot of posts to catch up on. Grandpa had a fall (he's ok, nothing broken), just got a real icky bruise on his hip). Teenagers were pranking my store for like the whole week leading up to Halloween. Just kind of one thing after another... so it makes sense that I haven't been sleeping well.

But there's something specific I need to tell you guys about.

Halloween night I had a bad dream. I have them a lot, I don't wake up in a cold sweat or anything, they're just strange and weird and creepy. This one felt pretty normal, all things considered.

In the dream, I was in a living room (not mine), and the doorbell rang, and I went to answer it. I remember that I had to reach up to get the doorknob, I open it, thinking that it's Halloween, it's probably a trick-or-treater.

There's a very large figure standing there. All in black. I couldn't discern its features or anything. Everything was just black and voidlike. Even its eyes - or maybe, where its eyes should have been. Dream-me went to reach for the candy bowl, and saw the glint of something shiny in his hand. Awake-me has a couple assumptions as to what that object was, but I don't want to name them.

The figure grumbled, a low, almost inhuman voice, "go to your room." Dream-me was petrified. I just stood there, frozen, and watched the dark figure enter the house and trudge up the stairs.

That's where the dream, or at least my memory of it, stops.

I'd started telling my grandpa about my bad dreams like that - dreams have power and whatever - just in case. (In case of what, I don't know.) So I tell him about it over breakfast the next day (or for him, coffee, hashbrowns, and leftover jelly beans from the candy bowl).

And he doesn't usually ask any questions, he just nods, and says something vague about symbolism like colors or birds or something. But this time he looks up at me from his coffee and asks, in a whole ass sentence, "What color were his eyes?"

It's at this point I remember the voidlike appearance of the figure, the sort of unendingness to it, and I say, "I don't think he had any."

He nods, and pokes a green jellybean into his mouth, and goes back to watching CBS morning news. I ask him if maybe-not-humans-without-eyes are A Thing, and he shrugs. I wasn't able to get anything else out of him after that.

And then the papers hit this morning. I wish I could share specifics, but it's a small frickin' town, and that doesn't feel safe - for more reasons than the usual "strangers on the internet" ones.

So the gist of it is: Halloween night, a man was killed in his home by an intruder posing as a trick-or-treater. It was in my grandpa's hometown, nearby. His ten-year-old son had opened the door.

I saw it. I saw it in my dream, that night, maybe even as it was happening. I just know it. I don't even want to bring it up to my grandpa. I don't know if he's found out about it yet - maybe he already knows somehow. Hell, 99% sure I inherited whatever nonsense this is from him. But what do I do? I feel like if I call the police tip line they're gonna think I'm loony toons.

Stay safe out there.

Penrose.

[PenOfDamocles]

I wonder what relevance the colour of their eyes held to your grandpa.