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The lucid dream
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Steven first realized he was dreaming while stocking and rotating the milk in the coolers with his buddy and Co worker Mark, they had worked at the small town grocery store together for nearly five years now and gone fishing every Friday after work for just as long. It was middle of summer but both men brought heavy coats to work on Wednesdays because that was their day in the cooler. Mark was going on about some bait or something but Steven wasnt listening, he appeared to be off in the Twilight Zone somewhere and when Mark shook his shoulder to get his attention he jumped a bit making Mark chuckle. Where you at Steven? He asked playfully, and gave him a light shove but when Steven answered his face was serious. "I don't know, where the fuck am I?" He looked around taking in his surroundings and then asked "its Wednesday?" Yea, why the fuck else would we be in this cold ass refrigerator? You all right man? His tone was starting to change from amusement to concern but Steven didn't notice, he was to busy trying to remember how he got here but he couldn't. He couldn't remember putting his coat on, couldn't remember driving to work, couldn't remember waking up that morning. The only thing he could remember was stabbing his wife in the throat and the way the air had hissed from her neck for just a fraction of a second before it turned to a gurgel of blood that cascaded down her nude body and dripped from her tits. He remembered the man on the bed next to her that had been flat out mutilated and although he didn't remember doing it he knew he had. He just excepted it for fact the way you do in dreams. He remembered canceling his fishing trip with Mark to come home and surprise her only to find the two of them naked and entangled in each other instead and now he was here at work on a Wednesday rotating dairy products like nothing was up. That's when he realized he was dreaming, of course he didn't remember his trip to work why would he dream about a boring old car ride? Plus he knew in his heart that sherry would never cheat on him. And even if she did he surely wouldn't kill her right? No of course not, this was a dream. He had always wanted to have a lucid dream. The question was, now that he was having one what did he want to do? That was an easy one, he always fantasized about fucking deb while he was at work, he would never actually come on to her because he loved his wife with all his heart but what was the harm in dreaming about it? Especially in a dream where his wife had cheated on him. A small glimpse of walking in to see that hairy ass bouncing up and down above his wife's spread thighs flashed into his head, followed by a vision of Gore. His brothers face twisted in pain as Steven tried yanking a tooth from his mouth with a pair of pliers but only succeeded in shattering the tooth into bloody shards that stuck from his mangled gums. For a minute he was back in the bedroom, sitting between the two of them on a blood soaked mattress wondering if they where strong enough to fight back if he cut the ropes that he had bound them with so he could flip them over and go to work on there backsides with one of the various tools he had laid out. He quickly shook the vision though, that dream was fucked up and he didn't want to remember it when he awoke. For the first time he realized that Mark was talking to him and probably had been for awhile. "You have been acting weird all week" he said "are you all right"? Yea Steven replied "I'm going to take off though", he closed his eyes and willed himself to be at debs house but when he opened them he was still in the freezer so he walked out and got in his car, "what kind of bullshit dream is this this" he wondered as he threw it in gear and peeled out of the parking lot.
Deb lived on the outskirts of town and it was normally about a 20 minute trip but it went by in choppy little fragments of memory, first he passed McDonald's, then he passed the billboard for McDonald's right as he was leaving town, then he was turning onto the small hidden drive that led to her house. easy as that. Standing on her doorstep he imagined what she would be wearing when she opened the door still eager to take control of this dream, he pictured her in a tight fitting piece of lacy lingerie that he had bought his wife for their anniversary nearly three years ago, he had only seen her in it twice the first was the night he had bought it for her and the second was just the other night when he had killed her. He had spent so much time trying to conjure the fading image of that last happy anniversary to jerk of to and here she was wearing it for his own fucking brother the whole time, he was aware that he had slipped back into that previous dream, still aroused but furious enough he didn't mind spending some time here. What the hell else had his brother been getting that he hadn't? Anal maybe? Yea probably, he had only been begging for that since they where first Wed, a feeling of deja vu crept over him as he looked down at the ropes knotted on her wrists and ankles and wondered if she had enough fight left in her to get the best of him if he cut them and flipped her over. He turned her bloody head to face him and she gave no resistance, he felt the full weight of her head in his hands and when he let go it dropped to the mattress without any signs that would indicate life. one of her eyes was glued shut with congealing blood, and for a second the other stared unblinking until finally she let out a shallow breath and it flitted shut. The smell of human excrement mixed with the coppery tang of blood in his nostrils and he knew she had finaly died.
FUCK! He wasnt done punishing the bitch, how dare she die before he could give her what she had coming, his rage followed him back to the other part of the dream where deb was standing in the doorway of her home giving him a funny look. A glance down showed him that she was not wearing the sexy outfit he had tried to conjure her in and it pissed him of even more. He never got what he wanted! Not in real life and not even in his fucking dreams! Not even a lucid dream that he should have full control of! Her confused looked transformed into one of fear when he spat at her to take those fucking clothes off. He started forcing his way into the house and she slammed the door right into his nose bringing tears of pain to his eyes. You weren't supposed to be able to feel pain in your dreams though where you? For the first time he wondered if maybe this wasn't a dream afterall, and maybe he should turn and leave now. He almost did, but then next thing he knew he was in the living room ripping the phone from her hands and smashing her face into the wall behind it. Yea it was definitely a dream and this time he was getting what he wanted, what he always wanted but his bitch wife would never give him. Deb swatted at his hands as he yanked on her jeans hard enough to pop off the button, he grabbed the edge of her pants and fought them down over her ass and almost to her knees before he fell onto her and pined her flat beneath him. He punched her in the side of the face a few times until her screams turned to wimpers and she stopped fighting enough for him to reach down and release his cock from his pants without fear of her escaping him, this was going to be a wet dream for sure! He would probably have to lie to sherry and tell her it was about her, maybe if he made up some juicy details he could get her going and end up getting some morning sex out of it. As he parted debs butt checks and violently slammed into her she turned into sherry, laying there dead on the blood soaked mattress with a small hole in her neck from his pocket knife that he hadn't intended to be fatal. With her sexy gown cut off from her in taters around them and the still warm excrement that released when she died working as an anal lube he slid himself in and out of her dead body, it would have been better if she would clench up and squirm around like deb did but no, she was even more of a dead fuck now than she had ever been. The dream was getting screwy now and out of order, different parts overlapping as he came in them both at the same time. And then back to the choppy fragments of time when the police showed up. He was in the back of a cop car now, he knew he had put up a good fight the way you just know things in dreams, and his arm felt like it was broken from being twisted behind him so forcefully. Again he wondered about the pain, your not supposed to feel pain in dreams, and sitting in the back of this police car the entire thing suddenly felt way to real, what if it wasn't a dream? What if he had some kind of break down from catching his wife in bed with his brother or something? The cop that had arrested him turned and looked at him not with the look of disgust that he somehow remembered from his unconscious mind, but with a smile on his face and Stevens blood ran cold and his face went pale, because he knew that face. It was the guard, the God dammed prison guard that turned his back while Steven was brutally raped and sodomized every night because he felt he was getting what he deserved or something. That same smile he had when Steven begged for help and he responded "don't worry buddy, I'm sure it's just a bad dream" and then walked away. The thing about lucid dreams is, as soon as you know 100% for sure you are having one you wake up. Steven opened his eyes to a prison cell.