Fall of the Bumblebee

Mrs Goodwin's Dream

  According to Professor Goodwin's personal notes, Amir Kharagosh was the next to be questioned, but was interrupted by his wife who insisted she went next, just so she could get horrific experience of revisiting her nightmare over with. Goodwin reluctantly agreed, and began to take her notes as she described. 

He added in his personal log that he wondered if both she and himself had shared the same dream, though as much of a frighteningly surreal experience he had had, he couldn't have imagined the same or similar experience being so traumatic for his wife.

His assumption was proved wrong when Joan Goodwin described a completely different dream to his own:

"In my dream, I was in Heaven.
Or at least, how I had pictured it in my mind.
Beautiful ethereal clouds sailed the golden dawn-lit skies, and marble scones sat upon white pearly platforms that peered over the clouds themselves.Gorgeous men and women in luscious white gowns sat around on these ethereal-sailing platforms, chatting and laughing amongst themselves, drinking from goblets with silver plates of the most delicious foods I could have ever imagine.
It was extraordinarily enticing. The smells, the sounds, it was all so real to me.
The feeling of weightlessness I experienced...unlike anything I had ever felt before.
My head was swimming. I felt so calm yet exhilarated all at once.
But that dreadful melody of yours, Arthur.
I heard it in my dream.
That droning, sickening music poisoned the air, and all of those white-robed men and women stopped to look at me.
And please, please don't find this following description as ridiculous as I describe it to you, but as the song played and the crown paused, the serine marble walls collapsed as a beast barged through like a juggernaut.
The beast resembled a rhinoceros, large and bulky, yet white as the marble it had destroyed. It ravaged the scene, laying siege upon this poor socialites. I felt the urge to take stance, and as if by sheer thought process, a silver javelin appeared in my right hand. I stood my ground at the table and throw my weapon at the beast, piercing it's skull.
Oh, the blood. It poured from that opened gash caused by my own brutality, and it collapsed, dead at my feet.
I felt like crying. I felt sympathy for the beast.
It was scared. It was only scared by something I was yet to understand.
Once again, the white-robed socialites stared at me, but were now smiling.
The wretched animal was slain, and they were pleased with my efforts. Yet I felt like apologising.
I knew in my heart something was wrong.
I pleaded for forgiveness, but to no avail.
Forgiveness wasn't what these wolves in sheep's clothing wanted. They just wanted the beast.
Suddenly the whole world turned red. The sky, the clouds, the pillars, even the robes worn by those savages.
It made me so angry, but soon my anger was replaced by pure disgust and revulsion."

At this point, Goodwin noted how his wife seemed visibly distressed as she recalled what happened next:

"They chanted 'Strip! Strip! Strip!' over and over again in unison, and soon the women began to sway the bodies in such provocative ways only to be associated with the scantily clad working girls in seedy clubs.
Loud, thudding drumbeats pounded all around the broken walls, and violent, horrific screeching of lustful voices as the men ran to the women and ripped away the robes, chanting and cheering as they themselves took off their clothing. They then picked up a partner, flinging them onto the dead corpse of the slain beast, now sitting in a pool of it's own blood.
As the men spread apart their captive woman's legs, the women dug their fingers deep into the flesh of the beast, pulling open flesh wounds and smothering themselves in the crimson liquid.
They began having sex on top of that blood-soaked corpse, thrusting and moaning to the furious drumbeats as I just watched. I could do nothing but observe this horror.
But I couldn't wake.
The smell was unbearable, but my mind would not wake my body at the realisation that this was all a dream.
No, I just stood their watching. As if I was actually enjoying what I was seeing.
Or rather, I was being forced into enjoying what I saw before me.
The smell of blood and sweat...
The screaming..."