Please reply a post on this if you yourself have had a similar experience, or may think you have an analysis on this dream figure in any way. To start with, I'd just like to point out estimated 80%+ of my dreams, are in fact nightmares. Although for the timebeing, I've only thought this dream figure should be the one for me to write about since it has taken up a lot of nights in my past. ;] Well, I suppose this figure came from an experience I had when I entered a new home of mines which dates back to the Victorian era. Although I won't write about it here, because I end up writing too much, apparently! Standing ontop of a rooftop of a building, the sun shining and the clouds hovering above in the sky in a fluffy mess. Talking with my friends, sitting on the rooftop floor and laughing. Like we do, everytime I meet with friends. Admist the laughter, the sky flashes into a maroon colour, the sky entering a state of solar eclipse and instantly darkening. He steps onto the rooftop, wraggly grey hair covering his face. In his black victorian drenchcoat, and dusty cracked black shoes. Dust covered his body, and stuck to his dry pale skin. His dirty black gloves clutched onto a rusty dagger, once silver and glimmering. I've seen him so many times before, in so many nightmares. Looking at him, hunched forward, looking directly at you even though you can't see his eyes, you know he is looking at you. When he enters your nightmare, your whole dreamworld revolves around you and him. Although only one survives, and it is him. After he's finished with you, that is. He hurled his rusty dagger forward to me, it slammed instantly through my neck. I felt the blade through me, and I tried to breathe. Through my mouth, I breathed nothing. Through my nose, nothing. I placed my fingers around the hilt of the dagger, but too afraid to touch it. I felt my lungs squeeze inwards, and I fell back onto the ground. Not having the strength to hold my head up, it knocked off the concrete rooftop. He stepped forward, and I looked to my friends for a second. They remained frozen in time, still in the positions of their laughter. The victorian man leaned forward and covered me in his black drench coat, and his disgusting breath breathed over me although I couldn't smell it, I could feel it's repelling warmth. At this point in the nightmare, I awoke. I found my hands clutched around my neck, and that I wasn't breathing. I breathed in, although I felt nothing go through me. I pulled back my hands and sat up in bed, and resumed breathing as if nothing had happened. Although for some reason, I felt someone sitting in the darkness on my bedroom sofa although not revealing themselves. As if they were actually there and not a childish creation of the mind, although breathing in a plane or dimension different from my own, and I could not hear him. Well, that's one recollection. And it's not a lie of any kind, or exaguratted. I wasn't breathing, and I was choking myself. But I had no suicidal feelings at the time. But it's happened a lot of times, and the detail of my dreams makes them even worse as nightmares when I somehow die, because it feels so realistic that I feel the things I do in the dreams, in real life. Anyway, help?
that must have been one of the scariest things ever. I'm sorry you even had to go through that. I'm not sure what it could have meant, but I had a similar dream. I was at a really old fashioned house, possibly Victorian, not sure though. I was at a party, wearing the clothes and everything. It was pretty boring and everything so i went outside to have a cig. Suddenly something moved in a nearby bush, and a perfectly white, ghostly figure with victorian clothes, curly hair, and a dull axe crawled out. His head was hanging off by a thread. THe door to the party was locked. When I looked in the window, the enorumous room was empty. I turned around and the ghostly figure beheaded me, but not fully. My head was still hanging by a thread, like his was. He then started to drag me away, but I woke up. Scariest shit ever.
Hi there Morgan, i have not an analysis just 3 thoughts but i trust it's ok to share them. Death goes hand in hand with Life and not he is the enemy but the fears that often darken our view. He is a master teacher. The drama is your creation. Nightmares have a great potential to wake you in a spiritual sense ... even as they literally shake and rattle your door. The answers are where you open to it. Go deeper ... and just love him. Hope it makes sense.
