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thardigang · 25 days

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A dream I had a few months ago

My family took me to a fancy hotel in my hometown. If you could even call it a hotel. The place was infinite. It had both indoor and outdoor pools, the outdoor one included a minigolf course alongside the perimeter of the pool so that the wealthy guests could golf in swimwear.

I joined my family for poolside, but the memories of being a child during the 2008 housing crash jolted me into lucidity. I immediately threw down my golf club and walked off to no one's attention.

"Now this must be the most bourgeoise bullshit I have ever participated in." I mumbled as I pulled a shirt over my head. Freedom swelled in my chest like collecting vomit, and I decided I would use my new found freedom in the best way any free mind could ever conceive of: I would go to a bar and get drunk.

I ran back to my room, passing through the indoor pool who's entrance was a slide for some reason and I slipped and fell down, hurting my head. Finally reaching my destination, I put together a dashing outfit complete with my starchy brown hide jacket.

A walk on the town was exactly what I needed. The sudden night air cooled my temper, and a new smoothie/oat bowl bar with outrageous pricing for Missoula, Montana reminded me I hadn't gotten my wallet. So, with some protest, I returned to the hotel.

Attempting to avoid meeting with literally anyone, I took the rearmost entrance I could access. It was open, almost as if I was allowed. However, this hallway quickly became a descending set of stairs. I followed them downwards deciding that some light trespassing would make for a good evening adventure. I reached the bottom and found another hotel hallway, however there were no guest rooms here, only staff doors and closets.

One such closet near the end had a metal door and was left slightly ajar. I pulled it open to see it was a cleaning closet, with metal shelves lined with the exact same bottle of fluid. Hundreds of them. I picked one up.

The container did not have a spray nozzle, nor any markings denoting what it was. It was just a clear plastic container with liquid.

"Fuck." I thought, as I tilted the bottle back and forth I saw it was a thick, viscous, beige liquid. "This is fucking pus." I thought to myself.

I quickly set it down and looked back down the closet and noticed it had grown deeper and deeper. The pus bottles now numbered in the thousands. I ran through trying to find the end of the closet but only found a light. The light came from another room, separated by a door. It looked like another storage closet. I peered through the door and saw even more shelves full of pus bottles, and a man.

A man who looked like a janitor. A blue jumpsuit. Taking bottles seemingly at random and placing them in a cart. I hid, terrified of being found here. What if it was some sort of disgusting pus harvesting operation, and that man was the head sicko? Before I could really make a decision for myself, the man had gone. I followed behind and inspected the room.

So much. Too much pus. A suspicious amount. Dangerous even. I ran so hard and so fast I didn't even remember where I went and how I escaped, I just ended up back in front of my room.

At this point I thought, "Stephen King would fucking love this place." And as I was about to just get my wallet and pretend none of this had happened with the help of cheap whiskey, I noticed another open room.

Curiosity, as it usually does in these situations, got the better of me.

It was another very long room. It had about ten beds with very old metal bedframes, the kind that Oliver Twist and his friends would sleep on.

The bed closest to me pulled me in, I never moved to it. I crouched astride it and looked underneath, as if I was checking for midnight monsters like a kid. Lying there, was a single tiny piece of lint.

Then it sparked. A bright orange spark. Smoke began to grow out of the lint.

"Oh fuck." i thought as I pressed my thumb over the lint to extinguish it. But it burned brighter, and my thumb hurt to much. Now the burning lint was larger, and I placed my entire palm over it to kill it once and for all. Still, the flame kept growing and pushed my hand away.

"Fuck, Fuck, Fuck." I repeated as I could only watch. I was sure this my fault somehow.

The lint kept growing, so much so that it now had shiny black bits that looked like polished steel coming from one end. I recognized peering eyes being born from its face. Then, a long pointed beak, like a crow's came unfurled. Then the lint took the shape of wings, and the creature stretched it's body for the very first time. In the gaps between the strands of hair, I noticed this living bird made of lint was growing a spine. A spine so thin it was translucent. I saw the spine was filled with that same beige liquid, if a small amount.

I gasped in terror of what just came into being in front of me. The lint bird crowed.

I awoke.

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