Fall of the Bumblebee

Mr Drake's Dream

The very next morning, Arthur Goodwin had noted in his journal log that he had had an awful nightmare, that felt so vivid to him that he almost seemed shocked to find himself back in his own bed with his wife. Almost at the exact same time, he noted, his wife awoke as well, and according to him 'her face was as pale as ice, and a bead of sweat trickled from her brow'.
She told him that she also had an incredibly disturbing dream, that began almost as soon as she drifted off to sleep at the sound of the 'Fall of the Bumblebee' record.

As expected by now, he deduced that the three others had suffered similar experiences as well, with was proven by how each one was found seated in silence in the main study where the experiment was first arranged.

Goodwin was ready to dub this experiment as failure, as everyone in the room complained of similar experiences of restlessness and night terrors. However, before he was ready to write off the entire experiment as a failure, he wanted to note down the nature of the dreams of each subject, including himself and his wife, who shared the same room, and wondered if Joan and him had shared a similar dream.

He took some spare pages from his desk and noted the name of all five persons on each, and began with young Esther Allen Drake.

Drake had this this to say when questioned of his dream:

"In my dream, I was running. I believe the location was a fairground I once visited in my early childhood. I couldn't remember much detail of the fairground itself, other than it was completely absent of any sort of colour, but it was far off in the distant. I remember..as in my dream I continued to look back as I was being pursued.
My pursuer was a clown.
A terrifying, monochromatic clown, of which I can only assume came from that same grim and colourless fairground that was since after my childhood in this horrific vision had been poisoned and tainted, left raped and completely soulless as to serve the backdrop of such a terrible experience.
And as for the clown...my goodness.
Flies.
The gruesome creature was covered in flies. Swarming and crawling all over that lanky beast's pale, moth-eaten skin.
It wasn't some much as running towards me, but more of a clumsy lumber like that of a drunkard, his arms flailing, seemingly to lack any bones.
Like a ragdoll.
A ragdoll that was rotting and crawling with foul insects.
Then, as if no time had passed at all, as is the nature of dreams, the clown vanished, along with that grisly fairground. I was still on the cobbled road, and now approaching a house.
Oh God...such a house, if one could even call such an eldritch abomination a house!
For it's structure was much like the average, two-story house, sitting alone atop an isolated hill away from town. But the material that formed such a structure was not that of brick or woods, but...arms.
Human arms formed the entirety of the house!
Not that the arms were laid upon one another in the same manner as bricks, but were instead outstretched. Reaching outward from whatever centre the house had.
It was as though these hands were beckoning me, inviting me into a gruesome fleshy maw of a doorway.
I just stood right outside, staying into that void, the arms, the hands, beckoning me.
And soon after, I woke up.
And that was that."