Archive for the ‘Dreams’ Category

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This story came to me in a dream.

It stayed with me for weeks afterwards, especially the end.


Night of the 24th June

I have regressed and am eleven years old and back in Middle School with old friends who I have not seen in years. I am travelling home from a school trip aboard a double-decker bus. I sit in the very front amongst my mates, on the left where the driver’s area should be (this is a dream). We are laughing and joking, messing around as kids do.

Outside the weather is quickly worsening but none of us notice. If we did we would see the dark clouds gather above, heavy rain falling and the breeze becoming an immense gale. It is only when we hear a loud crashing in the distance that we realize how bad our surroundings are.

Then the tempests (as my mind names them) strike, huge tornados containing falling hail and concentrated lightning in their attacks upon the ground. Cars and vans are blasted away as if they are mere toys and all aboard the bus look on in horror as two cars are lifted high into the air before exploding away in the distance.

The unseen driver slams his foot on the accelerator, sending the bus hurtling on down the main road, navigating through the mass of traffic of which all are trying to escape the raging storm. Many of us scream and shout in terror, prayers uttered as others are petrified into silence. The teacher has become hysterical, offering no reassurance to any of us and looking simply terrified as tears run down their cheeks.

Our bus turns off the main road just as one of the tempests strikes close to us. We enter a quiet road, but already the storm is engulfing everything nearby. The bus turns around and heads back towards the main road with no other choice, but we are instantly hit by the biggest tempest we have seen yet and are sent hurtling into the oncoming traffic. We crash hard amongst a chaos of shattered glass and twisted metal, but within moments the tempest dissipates and we are ordered to evacuate, leaving all bags behind.

My legs are trapped after the collision, between my seat and the metal shell of the bus. A boy who used to bully me at school comes to my aid, kicking the crumpled metal hard until I can pull my legs free. We evacuate, the bully and others helping me on as I stagger with a heavy limp.  

We meet up with the rest of the class who have huddled under the cover of an old stone railway bridge. They ask if I am alright but I shrug off the attention and ignore the roaring pain in my right leg, stating I will be fine. Firecrews begin to arrive but before they can help our bus explodes into flame, causing even more carnage. The class is ordered to board another coach and to escape immediately and so we hurry on. I limp on even worse, the pain in my right leg excruciating. I can barely even walk.

Everyone piles onto the coach, but it is clear there is not enough room. From outside I push my friends and those who helped me onboard, before slamming the doors shut on the class and screaming at the driver to go. My eyes meet those of the girl I have secretly liked for so long and she pleads with me to join her and the others. Her cheeks are not their usual rosiness, but are pale like the rest of her face with fear. I simply step away into the road though before screaming at the driver one more time.

My friends and the girl hurry to the rear window of the coach and I can see their tear-filled eyes as they disappear into the distance. I am then plunged into darkness. The clouds are roaring above me again as the tempests begin to descend. I look down at my right leg, soaked in blood, the wound far worse than I was letting on. I look back at the coach, glad that at least the others are safe. I would have never made it anyway, I think as I fall to the ground, my pulse beginning to slow and all fear gone.

The world then explodes around me as dozens of the tempests strike down.

Night of the 19th May

I am standing in the kitchen of my flat with a mate from college who I haven’t seen in years. From the back window we have a clear view over most of London and witness something rising up into the sky, a stream of white smoke trailing in its wake. It is a space shuttle, lifting off from Central London as part of a test of new technology.

We then see black smoke emerge from one of the engines and the course of the shuttle change dramatically. Both of us can hear the screams of the people in the city as the vehicle begins to descend. We watch in shock and horror as the shuttle falls and crashes into the heart of London in a terrifying explosion that makes the ground tremor for miles, rocking my home as the force of the blast smashes the windows.

‘What can we do?’ asks my friend. I take out my mobile telephone to call for emergency services even though I know it is pointless. There is no signal anyway. ‘What can we do?’ I reply…

Night of the 1st May


I am standing upon a grassy field, amongst a range of mountains and hills, looking over my village down below. My mates and I are playing football, the sun high above us in a cloudless sky. Then from down below we here a rumbling.

Beyond my village and atop a nearby hill is a power-station. Loud bangs and then sirens shatter the peace and I feel a terrible dread in the pit of my stomach. Then there is a flash of light and the biggest and most spectacular explosion I have ever seen. We watch on helplessly as my village is destroyed within seconds and an immense mushroom cloud rises high above.

We know the blast is approaching us. We can’t run. We can’t hide. All we can do is simply wait…

Night of the 26th April.

I am in a world where The Walking Dead and Supernatural meet.

Myself and a small group of survivors raid a nearby store for supplies (a B&Q). Whilst three of the group, myself included, searches the building two people stay behind, creating a base within a ring of salt that the dead cannot cross (Supernatural – although salt only deters ghosts usually).

Mere moments after our search begins we are attacked, first by fast running canine dead and then by the slower shuffling humanoids. Using the rifles we have found during our raid (B&Q now sells firearms apparently), we fight off the dead whilst running back to the ring of salt. Myself and one other make it back but the third is dragged away screaming by the growing horde.

This leaves the rest of us trapped in the protective circle as hundreds of the dead surrounded us. We are trapped….