I really wonder where my mind comes up with some of these bizarre dreams. I haven't been feeling well the last few days (@&^#*@%^ cold/flu/whatever it is!) and sleep comes in small snatches. I managed to get another snatch and ended up involved in a very weird dream....
It was one of those big house dreams where the house is creepy as heck. I seemed to be me; at the same time, I seemed to be playing Ecks. Dad was there, but since I was Ecks, I believe I'll just call him Wye and me Ecks to separate this from reality a bit. (Also because I think I can get a weird short fic out of this.)
For the second time, Ecks had seen a door fly open in the basement, down past literal mountain-level stacks of books and folding chairs left by the prior owners. They'd gone down before and found no evidence of it, but now Ecks was determined to get to the bottom of it. They went down, found the door actually busted down, and suddenly this old man with white hair and beard came flying out at them with a huge wooden beam, which he swung in definite attack mode. Without much room to do anything else, like attempt to get the thing away from him, they ran.
They managed to avoid him, but then this other guy came down the stairs with someone who looked more dead than alive. They realized they were using the basement to experiment on and torture people and the guy coming after them was probably another of their victims. At the same time, the guy bringing a new victim realized that they knew. Prompt another chase, this time with him trying to kill them.
They made it around a lot of the book mountains and chairs, and there were little places to squeeze into between stacks, but the bad guy was getting close and Wye finally said Ecks would have to leave him and go on ahead. He would try to find a way out by another path. Ecks didn't like the idea, but the guy was gaining and Ecks didn't have much choice.
Ecks squirmed through several more stacks and finally managed to knock one down after him and make it look like that was probably it and Ecks had been buried or otherwise killed. Hoping they bought it, while regretting what Wye would think, Ecks hurried on.
At one point, since the guy coming down with his new victim had blocked the way up from the basement at several points, Ecks had to try to tear one blockade away. Ecks managed to accidentally do a rather spectacular fall with one of the chairs that definitely looked like curtains. Ecks was fine and they oddly enough, hadn't even noticed. He hurried on.
Eventually he hid in the crevices between the stacks for a long enough time that everything seemed to have died down. The police seemed to have arrived and hopefully that meant that Wye had got out and called them. Then someone else came in. He'd been part of things too, but he was crying and saying he hadn't been deeply involved and he was sorry and wanted Ecks to come out, if Ecks was alright. Ecks was very suspicious and tried to keep concealed anyway, slipping deeper among the stacks as the guy got closer.
Ecks didn't end up caught and finally managed to get out of there. And the bad guys had to use part of their prison sentence to fix up the old, dilapidated house. LOL.
Overall, a really, really weird dream. I'd have to tweak it a bit to make it work as a story, such as why Ecks and Wye didn't have weapons to use on their enemies. Perhaps there just wasn't enough space to use guns without danger of ricochet (as there really wasn't much room, with all the stacks of stuff), and Ecks couldn't get close enough to use his dagger. Also, of course for a story, I'd want to play up the faking death angle and have Wye fear that Ecks didn't get out when he saw the stack come down after Ecks vanished into it. Maybe Ecks would fear the same thing about Wye, at least until the police arrived. And of course, there would have to be a squee reunion scene. The house would have to not be where they were staying, too. It could be the house Napoleon and Illya went into (I must finish that fic), but I kind of wanted that one to just be unexplained and ghosty.
I'll figure it out, I'm sure.
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