Fucked Up Running Man Ft.The Rock

There’s a bridge in Oxfordshire that crosses the river Thames. Either side of this bridge is a pub, The Maybush is on the Kingston Bagpuize side of the river and the Rose Revived is on the Witney side.

The dream started on the Maybush side. Just up the road before the hill towards Kingston Bagpuize. I was standing there in running gear in a crowd of runners. The skies were grey and there was a slight drizzle. Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson was walking around, being his smiley, friendly self and talking to people that were there.

We started running. We ran off the road and into a cow field. The dream then cut to me running and over taking people in a sort of marsh land area which was Yorkshire (supposedly). The skies were dark and stormy as if there was a potential for icy showers. The dream then cut to a summer evening in a Mediterranean town. The road we were running on was next to a river which then veered towards the center of the town. I started over taking people and increasing my speed as we started heading up hill. The amount of people around me started to thin as I overtook more people. I was then sprinting in an abandoned building and there were only a two people a few meters ahead of me. The building had a dry sand floor and the sandstone walls. We sprinted through a tight doorway into a room. People started looking frantically for something. Furniture and blue plastic barrels were being thrown around in a blind panic.

I saw a light coming through a single pane window. I walked through the chaos and through a doorway into a room. There was a bright industrial light and an antique arm chair facing a stool in the corner of the room. I went and sat on the stool and became the winner of the race. There was then some sort of mutant looking human sitting in the arm chair that I was facing. His features were grotesque and exaggerated. Massive head and small bodied. He looked like a cross between the Alien from Roswell and the human version of Hubert Cumberdale from Salad Fingers, except the left part of his head was large and bulbous and was host to a dinner plate sized eye, which almost seemed too heavy for his thin neck.

I was given an ultimatum, either be shot in the head or hold an alien bug baby while it gets shot. I supposedly chose the last option as the bug that was twitching and twisting in my hands exploded into bits, leaving a translucent gunge over my hands and clothes. I then woke up.

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