"How sleepy I am," I thought.
I was in a deep sleep. I just wanted to close my eyes again and let myself drift off to sleep, but reality was demanding to me: I had to go to work.
"Mm? I cannot move!", I thought uneasily as I continued to stare at the ceiling. After a while, I realized that this ceiling was completely unfamiliar to me, which filled me with a cold foreboding.
"What the hell is going on?", I asked myself, terrified, as I faced a situation that was difficult to accept. To put it simply, I had gotten out of bed and walked toward a bathroom I did not recognize. The problem was that I was sure it was not me moving; it was like being trapped in a virtual reality game, but unable to make my own decisions, locked in my own body.
"That's my face!", I thought as I saw my reflection in the bathroom mirror. My astonishment and fear, which I thought could not increase, were overcome by what I saw next. I was moving through a house that was not my own, wearing thick, unfamiliar clothing, much of which was stained with blood. I picked up a backpack full of supplies and bottles; there was even a gun and ammunition. I approached a spear, which appeared to be handmade and lay next to the backpack. Its appearance was disturbing, covered with marks of use and blood stains that adorned its long shaft, giving it a sinister air.
"This can't be happening!", I thought, apprehensive, as I made my way to the window. I pulled back the curtain and glanced outside. A group of people were moving slowly, as if wandering aimlessly, looking for something nearby. They were not talking or shouting. I tried to listen, but since waking up I had only been able to see without hearing, and my hopes were slim. However, after a while, I managed to pick up some sounds.
A sepulchral silence reigned in the house, with no additional noises, I could only hear my own breathing, which I tried to make as little noise as possible. When I looked outside, I realized that a set of grunts and buzzing noises interrupted that stillness, transforming the atmosphere into something disturbingly terrifying. The most shocking thing was that these noises were coming from those beings; they were grotesque sounds that did not sound human.
With the sunlight peeking through on this new day, the scene became clearer. "They're zombies!", I thought, horrified.
What happened next became the scariest nightmare I've ever had.
[A/N: How many zombies can you kill before you get tired?]
A couple of hours later.
I found myself standing in front of the entrance of a private villa and, with some emotion, I exclaimed: "Finally I find you". I was not in full control of my body; after what I had experienced when facing that group of zombies, I preferred not to lose my sanity. I vividly remembered how I had killed those beings, or what used to be people, in a brutal and gruesome way. It was not a movie scene, but a raw depiction of life and death.
After gaining access to the village, I entered a specific house and began to eat what I had brought in my backpack. Next, I secured some cans at different points on the staircase leading to the second floor, just in case. Then, I simply plopped down on a bed upstairs, unclothed, breathing softly as I stared at the ceiling.
"It's the same ceiling I remember," I murmured with a tinge of nostalgia.
It was a ceiling and a room that, while strange to me, seemed familiar at the same time. My gaze fell on a calendar hanging on the wall, and a wave of dread swept over me, "The date is this year."
I lay in bed for hours, resting. As time passed, night began to fall, and exhaustion took hold of me. I opened and closed my eyes slowly, feeling more how the movement of my eyelids became softer and softer, until finally I fell into a deep sleep.
"I hope I don't wake up here tomorrow," I thought as exhaustion enveloped me.
The next morning.
"No!", I cried out in fear. I sat bolt upright in bed. After taking a couple of deep breaths, I managed to calm down. It had been just a nightmare, and the worst of them all.
"It was just a bad dream," I said in a more serene tone. Without knowing why, I felt comforted as I looked around my room. I dimly remember being surrounded by monsters, fighting for my life with only a spear in my hands. However, what bothered me most was that, for some reason, I felt I had to remember something important from that dream, although my efforts to do so were in vain.
I picked up my cell phone and consulted the time and date. "6:38 a.m. , Friday, October 30, 2026."
"Looks like it's time to get ready for work," I muttered with a tone of resignation, already feeling the weight of the dream the nightmare had left on me.
[A/N: What would you do if you had dreams that predicted the future? Would you try to change something or would you leave it as it is?]