(Originally wrote this out on another site, copy-pasting from there)
I dreamed this guy broke into my house in the middle of the night with the intention of killing everybody inside it. I talked him out of it somehow and he left without waking up anyone but me. Night after night after that, he kept coming back to my window and telling me about the family he killed that night. Most of them were in my neighborhood, but still a few blocks away from my home. I knew some of the families, apparently. (Some of the families he described were the families of some friends I know in real life, others were people who were apparently my friends in dreamland and weren't real people) He went into detail telling me about how he killed them and how he cleaned up the evidence afterward. We talked each night for at least two weeks, and eventually we started exchanging new ideas on how to off his victims, and he took a lot of my suggestions.
One day I was minding my own business at my house and the doorbell rang and it was this guy, in a mailman's uniform. I was kinda confused. Apparently he was the guy who delivered mail in this area and he was stopping to say hi just because he thought it would be funny for me to see what his day job was. We started talking more and more in secret, and we became really good friends.
As this guy started killing more and more people, he started running off with souvenirs from his victims, usually bits of their faces. He showed me a picture once of a giant mosaic of a face made of out pieces of other faces he was making in his closet. I was a little worried that someone might find that mosaic, or catch him with a body part before he got it home, but he assured me he would keep it as safe as he could.
Early one morning, just around sunrise, he came to my window in distress saying he was running late on his schedule because he had a little too much extra fun with one of his victims and while he was leaving their house, one of their neighbors saw him while they were leaving for work. He was really worried, even though he usually wore masks or costume makeup, often with the addition of clothing that hid his figure while going on his murder sprees. He said he saw the neighbors calling the police and he ran through a few backyards to get to my house, and he was worried what would happen if the police found him on the streets since he had a mask in his hand and had cut off the nose of an eight year old girl and had it in his jacket pocket. I offered to keep the mask (Which looked kind of like this, but with more purple) and nose until the next night when he could come back and get them, but he just gave me the mask and prayed nobody would see him running home and search his pockets. I didn't hear from him for the rest of the day, so I hoped he made it home alright.
Later that day I went to the mall a few miles from my house. While I was walking through the parking lot, I saw him there (he didn't have a name that I remember) and he was talking to two police officers, and it looked like he was in distress. I went up behind the officers from a distance and sort of motioned to him that I could help cause a diversion or something like that. He motioned back inconspicuously that he was okay and I backed off and watched him. He stumbled over his words a bunch, and was fiddling with something in his pocket. The thing he was fiddling with fell out of his pocket, and it was the little girl's nose, inside a little white cardboard jewelry box. He was pretty much instantly put in handcuffs and was under arrest. I don't remember the next few events, but I think he tried to stab one of the officers, but I do remember the very end of the dream where I find my mom in the parking lot and she's surprised I was there and she asked me if I saw what happened. I try to keep my calm and say yeah, I did. My mom and I drive away together, and she's talking about how happy she was that guy got caught. We get a perfect view of this guy, probably one of my best friends at this point, being driven away. I see him in the back of the vehicle. He looks out the window and sees me. He smiles the most calm, sad smile I've ever seen on anyone ever, and he mouths 'goodbye'. Then he's out of view.
Later that day I saw on the news that he managed to kill himself by taking a cyanide pill not long after he was arrested.
When I woke up my pillow was all soggy and I was all sad and it just wasn't okay. He didn't feel like a product of my dreams at all, he felt like a close friend, and almost like an older brother figure.
And one point in the dream, he asked me one night if I was afraid of him, and he openly admitted that he would probably kill me one day if I wasn't careful. We talked a lot about what we thought of the value of human life, and we actually planned out how he would kill me. That part the dream was probably the best part, because I felt so happy. I felt so safe and comfortable and like everything was going to be okay. I thought that was a little odd considering I was literally planning out how I would die, but for some reason that moment was just so perfect.
Uhm.
Yeah, dreams. Dreams are fun.
I'm not feeling good.
Have some pictures of Venetian masks, because I love them all of a sudden.
(The beaked ones are probably my favorites)
