I am being held prisoner by a mean-looking biker-type, kept in a basement but treated well. I am allowed much freedom (I don't know why I didn't escape). The biker left me with a motorcycle one day and went off with some friends. My grandmother came over for a visit and I told her of my trouble, and that I was afraid that he would track me down if I left. "I don't see any scars on your face," she said, meaning that I had taken care of myself in the past. "Yes," I said, "but I've always avoided fights." I considered asking her if I could borrow some money, and contemplated what my future might be like if I took the bike and ran off to my mother's house in a distant city. I woke from the dream, plagued with the "shivers," and an unusual sense of fright. Laying in bed and contemplating the dream, I wondered if the biker didn't represent drugs, particularly marijuana.
I was driving down the hill toward the bridge that leads to Metaline Falls. I saw what I thought at first was a terrible accident: bodies strewn about, stalled and wrecked cars. But as I got closer I saw that I had walked into the midst of an evil mass murder. Bodies were decapitated and "artistically" vivisectioned and arranged. I can only remember one in particular: a mutilated body lay on an operating table. A row of severed hands lay along the side in a clean row. I woke experiencing true HORROR. I lay in bed and thought for some time that I was in a "Freddy Cruger" type movie from which I couldn't escape. I experience great dread and fear for hours after the dream. Couldn't even write it down until many weeks had passed.
I was walking in a cave or "tunnelway" made of chalk or some other soft white material. Names and dates and other graffitti were carved in the walls. The further I walked the more markings there were. I came upon a place where there were carved elaborate demons and ancient gods. Above a passageway was carved words that suggested I was in an evil place. I turned to leave and saw a dangerous-looking person smoking a cigarette in the shadows. I woke.
I move into a house with many kittens. They are hellraisers, eventually escaping and running wild outdoors, returning only to eat and sleep. Later I notice that a lower pane of glass on the front door is shattered. Looking closer, I see a kitten with a shard of glass stuck in its head. The kitten is barely alive. I am about to try to pull out the glass, but then stop, realizing that, if the cat recovers, it would be quite a novelty to have a cat with a shard of glass stuck in its head.