iSaw

A detailed entry from my dream journal; a story from an unknown corner of my mind. The title is a mixture of "Saw", the horror movie, and the "i-" usage in Apple products.

2011-12/06 06:11 �" iSaw

 

I sat in quite a big room with a television in the centrum. With nothing much to do, I inserted a strange video in the VHS. I believe the title said “Saw 2”.
As I started the movie, all the lamps in the building went out and the entire environment begun to change. A very short moment later I found myself in some kind of dressing room to a sport hall. In the middle of the room, where I sat watching the television just seconds ago, was now a two-sided bench with hooks atop of it. And there was one, just one small window at the top of the concrete wall, much like the window from the cellar where I used to live. I mindlessly got undressed, picked up a towel, and walked into the shower. It was a collective shower, just as those you expect to find in connections to different types of sport halls and schools. While showering, the door leading into a sauna, which was slightly ajar, caught my eye. There was something strange with all of this. As I stared at that door, a narrative voice appeared, telling me that a person recently died in that sauna. At the very same moment I had a short, intense glimpse of a vision, showing me how that dead person were staring right back at me from the inside.
The voice kept telling me it’s story, and I kept staring through that little, small window that saunas usually have, knowing that right next to what I see, there could be a rotten corpse staring. The voice said that the door had been ajar for a long time while the corpse swelled up and rotted. This, it said, caused “problems”. Something it never quite explained. Nor did it tell how the story had ended, or if it ever ended.

Without peeking into the sauna, I went back to the main room. I used my towel to what towels are commonly used for, and noticed something odd at the window sash. There was another towel with red, green and white stripes. It was my old towel. How did it get there? Without thinking further in the matter, I proceeded to get dressed. Right as I had put on my pants, I noticed yet another odd thing; there was another, smaller sauna in the next corner of the room that definitely weren’t there before. And this one had its door wide open. The environment had changed again somehow, slightly. I slowly approached the sauna, still pretty spooked out from what I had seen and heard in the last one. Just as I were about to peek into it, I looked into a mirror to the left of me, where I could see into the sauna at a pretty inconvenient angle. I noticed a human knee, and at the same time I heard a loud shriek. I threw myself away in shock, but nothing else happened. I calmed down and carefully stuck my head into the sauna to see what it was. In there I found a seemingly normal family, just relaxing and having themselves a good time. At first I noticed the mother who was very fat, but somehow in a motherly and joyful manner. Then there was the dad, reminding me a lot of Johnny from The Shining. And there were also three sons with dark colored hair. One of the boys began talking to me. He said something about the geography of Sweden. He seemed knowingly, despite being so young. I asked him how old he was, and he quickly replied “two”. I was skeptically humming for a moment, and suggested that he’s rather around fourteen years old. He then dropped the conversation.

A couple of people with strangely familiar faces appeared behind me, people who were inside this room before it all started. One of which was an old, beardy man with glasses. The father of the family stared straight at this old man, and kept staring at him while he slowly and somewhat threatening walked out the sauna towards him.

 

Out of nowhere, the father held two pairs of red boxing gloves and handed one of the pair to the old man, as a request to begin boxing, but the old man declined, saying he didn’t wish to fight. But the father was incentive, and suddenly they both stood there with boxing gloves put on, more or less devoted.

While the old man’s arms were hanging straight down, as he still didn’t wish to fight, the father were jumping around and wagged his arms in unnatural patterns with an unreal strength and speed. It felt like the old man’s life has reached its final station.

 

The father took one step towards the man to strike a blow towards his face. The man leaned backwards, mostly by reflex, and the strike missed.

The father pretended to be exhausted, and claimed to have lost worthily, and that the old man won. I guess he grew bored with it.

I, my friend Rob, a little boy and some few extras walked away from there, into a corridor that felt more safe and natural. One of the boys from the family showed up in the doorway with two revolvers. He said he wanted to duel, and gave one of the revolvers to an elder man in our company. The man repeatedly said that he didn't want to duel with weapons, but the boy was just as devoted, stubborn and incentive as his father. The man tried desperately to make the boy stop, but the boy didn't even change expression at all, and completely ignored the elder man’s pleading. The man knew that the duel was about to start, and he also knew there was no point in running. If he did, however, he would have less of a chance to survive, or even to die a relatively painless death.

I didn't want to see the man die, so I tried to make it around a corner in the corridor. I heard the boy counting down; "3..." while I saw tears running down the elder man’s cheeks. His facial expression showed signs of extreme stress, inferiority, helplessness, and the knowledge that his inevitable death is near. "2...”, frustration, grief. "1..." - I barely made it around the corner before I heard a violently loud bang, and the sound of a grown man’s body hitting the floor. Even I was crying.

 

Not a single word was spoken until we tried to repress what just happened right before our eyes seconds ago, by talking about other irrelevant stuff. But we were soon interrupted by a manly shriek that silenced us all in fear.
-“What the F**K had happened this time?”

The old, beardy man moved shakily and exhausted through the doorway and said that the little boy’s mother is dead. The family had killed her and was currently eating her on the bench in the main room, he said. Great! We all walked there to see and confirm that it was true. Everything this family did seem so obvious and predictable, yet unnatural. It was enough of a noise when they put their jaws around the dismembered woman’s thigh and bit so that the bone broke. But the sound of her head being cracked open, for them to access the “yummy inside”, was far worse.

We just wanted to get away from there. So we all ran through the building that now seemed so endless, as if it was built by malicious architects. We ran through the same corridor probably three times. The corridor that previously felt so safe. We ran into it for the fourth time, but this time we stopped. Because in the doorway stood another member of the family; the youngest one of the boys.

 

He stared heartlessly at me, as if the evil of his soul had no limit. He put his arms like a cross, and held one revolver in each hand. He then told us some history of his weapons, skills and experiences, but I was too scared to  grasp a single word of what he was saying. He threw one of his revolvers towards me. It slid across the floor and stopped right in front of my feet. The others in my group stood behind me. They were scared and paid full attention to understand what was and will be happening.

Everything from scared to interested glances passed over my shoulders. I leaned down to pick the revolver up, while a huge load of thoughts and adrenaline rushed through my head. What was I doing, and what was happening? I stood there, in the middle of the corridor, with a revolver in my right hand and a human-shaped, supernatural wraith in front of me.

I couldn’t quite grasp the context of the situation, so I turned around and tried to escape, as if that would be the most natural and logical way to go, much in accordance to my survival instinct. I ran confused through the group, and in the rush of it all I gave the revolver away to the old, beardy man as a weapon to defend himself and the rest of the group with, seeing him as most fit for the role. Just as I got out from the corridor, I realized that the others weren’t following me. Not even with their eyes. I turned around, wondering about the situation when I suddenly heard the same heartrending f*****g bang as before, shortly followed by the just as sad thud of a grown man’s body dropping dead on the floor.

I saw the old, beardy man lying there. All bloody. And behind his glasses a pair of terrified eyes and one, just one tear halfway down his cheek.

When I gave him the revolver, I gave him the death. Because I made him into the duelist up again this soulless being, this wraith. Nothing I ever intended to do, nor understood that I did until this very moment.

 

I ran away from the group, and tried to run away from myself. I walked alone in a dark corridor, silent and agonized. I was tired of just about everything. I wanted it to end. After all, it was just a stupid movie that I never wanted to see again. I tried to stop it, or shut it down, but there was no button for it.

But then it hit me, a possible solution; perhaps, if I strained my imagination enough to believe it myself, that I could press the key combination Alt-F4 (a shortcut command for shutting down the current process on PC). I imagined having a keyboard in front of me and tried it out. And when I did, all the lamps lit up and all evil seemed to diminish. Those who were hurt got up as if nothing had happened and those who cried wiped their tears. It was as if it all was a theater play that just had come to an end, and everyone stepped out of their roles. Everything seemed fine again. We did all go to the main room where it all started, where the film had started. It felt so damn good that it was over. To see light again, and knowing that you wouldn’t have to stumble upon any corpse, or perhaps before all; unnatural, homicidal wraiths from the local saunas.

 

I sat down in front of the television once again, still happy and very, very relieved. It was life and joy all around me, rather than death and fear.
As I sat there, looking down on the crappy VHS on which I started the movie, and I noticed how it said “03:14:58”, and it kept ticking up. Second by second.

The movie wasn’t over.

Author's Note

-Nonsense? It's a dream. Don't bother requesting a change of story.
-Grammar? Don't bother with that either. I didn't share this story of my mind to be grammatically corrected.
-Like it? Great!
-Dislike it? Move along. Thank you for reading however.
-Something else? Go ahead, I'll read and respond as soon as I'm available.