"Well? What do you think?"
Posted: Wed Oct 09, 2013 11:25 am
The odd thing is that this dream didn't really scare me. It's just that it's been hanging around in my mind somewhere since I was 8.
I'm standing in a home somewhere, at one end of a hallway so long I can barely see someone standing at the end of it. The floors are wood and the walls and ceiling are white. All of them are segmented every ten feet or so by black molding that bleeds and spatters onto each section.
The one place this isn't true is the wall to my left. There's a recess in the wall and two lines of shelving leading all the way to the end of the hall like a giant trophy case, and on those shelves are human heads, but something's off about them. The skin on them flakes and creases in several spots like they were made out of paper mache. Others look leathery and rough, like the skin was slapped on from an old catcher's mitt. The only thing that makes me consider if they're real or not is that the hair, eyes and teeth all seem very life-like, each head with the eyes half-open in a slack-jawed stare.
The lines of heads continue all the way to the end of the hall where I found a guy who, at the time, was one of my third grade classmates. I didn't like or dislike the guy. All I knew about him was he had a twin brother. He's wearing an apron, completely spotless, and holding a sculpting knife.
When I get to the end of the line he looks at me and says "Well? What do you think?"
I turn around and just barely make out someone standing at the other end of the hallway. At this point the dream loops over and over until I wake up.
I'm standing in a home somewhere, at one end of a hallway so long I can barely see someone standing at the end of it. The floors are wood and the walls and ceiling are white. All of them are segmented every ten feet or so by black molding that bleeds and spatters onto each section.
The one place this isn't true is the wall to my left. There's a recess in the wall and two lines of shelving leading all the way to the end of the hall like a giant trophy case, and on those shelves are human heads, but something's off about them. The skin on them flakes and creases in several spots like they were made out of paper mache. Others look leathery and rough, like the skin was slapped on from an old catcher's mitt. The only thing that makes me consider if they're real or not is that the hair, eyes and teeth all seem very life-like, each head with the eyes half-open in a slack-jawed stare.
The lines of heads continue all the way to the end of the hall where I found a guy who, at the time, was one of my third grade classmates. I didn't like or dislike the guy. All I knew about him was he had a twin brother. He's wearing an apron, completely spotless, and holding a sculpting knife.
When I get to the end of the line he looks at me and says "Well? What do you think?"
I turn around and just barely make out someone standing at the other end of the hallway. At this point the dream loops over and over until I wake up.