/TW: Death, gore, mention of blood, creepy neck stuff, mention of physical abuse, an accident, like a really big accident/
So there were these three people. They all look like monsters, like literal monsters, like non-human creatures. One girl, and two men. I had to wash them off with soap and water, sorta like in those weird games where you have to groom a dog or get a girl ready for a date.
I wash off the girl and find that she isn't a monster at all, rather a human who was covered in blood and mud. She steps off to the side.
I wash off the older man and find that he isn't a monster either, he's a human too. Covered in the same stuff.
The younger man, I can remember what monster he was. A werewolf, and on him the fur looked especially real, but it and the blood washed off all the same.
He looked so sad, we all him what was wrong.
He looked down, and we got a flashback from his childhood.
He and his dad were sitting in front of a mud puddle, a nice silence between them. Kid decides he wants to play with his dad, and what's a better harmless thing to do than push him into the mud? He'll get all muddy, it'll be hilarious!
So he pushes his father's back, and he goes forward.
His head lands face-first into the mud, but his body keeps going. It flips over his head, and it lands on the other side of the puddle. They're still attacked, but there's a loud cracking sound.
The kid laughs a moment, but then looks at his dad's unmoving body. Was he drowning?! He pushed his body but couldn't move him, but then noticed his neck looked a little more.. loose than it should be.
He realized what had happened, and ran home to his family.
I have that random dream knowledge, the things you know about the dream's world without being shown, it's that after that, no one liked him. He was the father-murderer. His mother beat him, his two little brothers avoided him, everyone at school bullied him.
He looks at me. Directly in the eyes. His frown deepens. And he says
"And my debt just keeps going"
His head turns
"and going"
It continues to turn, an inhuman amount
"and going"
It's growing now, twisting and growing
"and going"
His face looks less and less human every second, each feature corrupted by an unknown black substance
"and going"
Each inch the neck grows is in my direction, he's inches away now
"and going"
...
...
...
I wake up hyperventilating
The image of the boy and his father burned into my brain
It's been a while since I went to my parents about a nightmare
