Dreams: Marla

I'm dreaming about being engaged to a woman named Marla. She has put me in chains and now I'm naked dangling from some damp dungeon wall watching her pace up and down through my cell. She scolds me about something while going a hundred miles an hour, occasionally pointing a finger or stomping the ground because I'm not really listening. She starts laughing like she's evil and she loves it. Then she turns heel and leaves, slamming the rusty prison door with a loud bang. I notice the peephole has been left open and for a moment I feel a pair of eyes watching me with great intensity. The lit slides shut and I hear the sound of angry footsteps getting quieter in the distance. I'm alone, at last.

Somehow I've managed to free myself. There is a kind of drainage leading down that's being blocked by an iron grate and a few philip screws. I look around and improvise an electric screwdriver from a fan and barely manage to lift the grate, looking a bit like I'm giving birth to a baby that's slightly too large. While climbing down I slip and fall past leaky sewer pipes before landing underground with a big wet splash. I get up and stumble around like I'm punch-drunk. I rub the back of my head and decide it's time to move on.

I'm descending withering stairs, wandering deeper and deeper down unknown depths. Eventually I discover ancient-looking catacombs with richly decorated yet eerily prehistoric looking sarcophagi. A thick fog is crawling past my feet and I feel like I've discovered a terrible secret, not meant for mortal eyes. I decide it's better to keep walking and move from one room to the next. I can't shake the feeling something might be moving in the shadows and sure enough I'm starting to notice more and more malformed creatures wobbling towards me. I hurry on and manage to escape another path leading up.

I reach the surface and savor the fresh air (fresh enough I guess). On the other side of a hallway there is a door and a young black man seemingly standing guard in front of it. We talk and I ask him about Marla and whatever she's up to underground? He mentions something about human sacrifices and her being a temple dancer, whatever that's supposed to mean. I nod and leave.

On my way outside I pick up a bottle of soda featuring a clear yet strangely undefinable fluid. I open the bottle with a foamy hiss and step into the daylight. I take a careful sip.