My golden birthday!
In my dream, my grandpa moved to Detroit and I drove up to visit him. I was a bit hesitant to do so, because there were reports of strange and chaotic things happenin' up there, but I was more curious than afraid.
After drinking tea with my grandpa in a house that looks identical to his house in real life in Fort Wayne, IN, I parted and decided to walk about the town. I strolled past some old and grey restaurants and trinket shops and city hall and a large library (most likely an inaccurate depiction of Detroit, considering I've never been there). The city seemed as if it had been taken over by pillagers; none of the business were open, and there were only a few people rummaging about, taking what they wanted from each shop. As usual in my dreams, a strange grey twilight was the only source of illumination.
Finally I ran into someone who seemed personable. His name was Paul, and he was a fit, balding man in his thirties with a pleasant smile and perfect handshake. He introduced himself and asked if I would join him for a birthday party he was throwing for himself that evening. I accepted and walked with him to a two-story blueish-gray house jammed between a laundromat/diner and another, similar house.
He walked me to his living room which was cluttered with loaded bookshelves and various woodworkings. Paul pulled an old red book off one of the shelves and revealed a beautiful and ancient necklace that was hidden inside, made up of blue and purple gems fastened to a gold chain. He then directed my eyes to the text of the open page and read aloud as I read a beautiful poem, translated from German, written by one of his ancestors about the life of a nomad.
After we finished, several people began to enter the house, bringing in gifts, food, and balloons. Paul's twelve-year-old girl came down the stairs to greet the guests, appearing as if she had just woken up from a nap.
Paul told me if I felt uncomfortable with all the strangers in the house that I could take a trip to the library and return later when it would be more peaceful. That sounded great to me, so I headed back to the library.
I walked up the concrete steps, past the large Roman columns, and into the dimly lit library. It was quiet at first, and I began working through the book collection in the history section. Soon I began to hear terrible noises, distant at first, but rapidly and frighteningly getting louder and closer. I ran toward one of the walls and hid behind a bookshelf. I removed a couple books, which allowed me to see what was going on.
A large group of men and women in tattered clothes burst into the library. They were abusing each other as they destroyed the books and shelves inside. Some had bats or crow bars, but most were just using their hands to rip things apart. These monstrous people had either green or blue chalky skin, and colored dust flew from them everywhere they moved, and they left stains on everything they touched. I feared for my life, because I seemed to be the only regular human around. I wasn't too far from the door, so I took a deep breath and fled the library. Nobody seemed to notice or care.
I ran back to Paul's house and burst inside. Many of the partiers had gone, but a few remained. As I looked for Paul, I ran into a tall man. I looked up and saw his blueish-purple face looking down at me, smiling politely. I quickly jerked my body away from him and bolted to the basement of the house.
I walked into a small white room and saw Paul, now with light green skin, digging at the neck of a normal-looking young man standing in front of him. I observed in shock and horror as Paul, using only his fingernails, tore away the skin from the young man's right shoulder. Then, Paul bit his lip and let his blood drip into the open wound. The young man began to smile right before he passed out and hit the floor.
Paul finally noticed me standing there, and I began to back away. He smiled at me and told me I had nothing to worry about. He came and place his hand on my shoulder and said he would only make me like him if I chose the transformation. I looked over and saw that the young man had turned purple and was back on his feet.
I told Paul that I was happy being a regular human being, then he told me about all the benefits of becoming like him. He was stronger. He didn't feel pain. He had an abnormal peace inside. I proceeded to tell him about the crazy destruction I witnessed in the library, and he argued that those people were weak-of-mind and were just as dangerous when they were humans as they are now. Paul couldn't convince me, and he respected my opinion. He promised to take me to the train station where I could safely return to Indiana. He told me to grab a sandwich from the adjacent room while he went to grab his car keys. I found his twelve-year-old daughter there, huddled in a corner. I walked up to her to see if she was alright, but she turned quickly to me and tried to bite my legs. I dodged her, and threw the food-filled table down between us.
Paul rushed into the room and scolded his daughter, who was still human-colored. She then begged Paul to make her like him, and he acknowledged her by tearing into her shoulder and bleeding into her. She quickly became a little purple demon, leapt from her father's arms, and darted upstairs, shouting at the top of her lungs with a terrifying voice.
Paul told me not to worry about her. He then handed me a knife and told me to use it if I needed to.
We rode together to the train station in his old blue car. We didn't talk the whole way there.
Once we made it to the station, Paul hugged me (which made me a bit uneasy) and told me I could return anytime. Our goodbye was suddenly interrupted by two men. One was a short, purple man with a knife, and the other was a tall, African American man who seemed to be normal still. The short man told us it was in our best interest to enter his red truck, which was parked near Paul's car. The man then grabbed me by the shoulder and started to tear into it with his nails. I spun around and tried to stab him with the knife Paul gave me. I struck him in the chest, but I didn't seem to do much damage. The man took a step toward me, but was stopped short by Paul, who happened to be carrying a pistol. Paul shot him once in the chest and once in the head, killing him immediately.
His tall accomplice then ran at Paul, and I stabbed him in the back a couple times, bringing him to the ground. I tried to avoid any vital organs, but I'm not a pro, so I didn't really know what I was aiming at.
The man looked up at me and pleaded with me, claiming that he was just a drunkard with a family trying to get by. I had pity on him and asked if he wanted medical attention. Then Paul shouted at me and said that I'd better leave the man. I didn't understand, and didn't listen to him at first, but he then pointed his gun at me and told me to return to Indiana before I got in too much trouble.
So I left the wounded man with Paul and I boarded the train.
Then I awoke.
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