My Scariest Dream

By Wil Forbis
Once again, Halloween has rolled around and prepared to make its way in to our midst. And as such, I've been spending the past several weekends preparing for my most favorite of holidays. I want this to be the best Halloween ever, so I've spared no expense. I've obtained the required items, the cases of Old Milwaukee, the peyote that's been officially blessed by Leonard Peltier (hey, he's got lawyer fees) and those little tequila lollipops that I always hand out to the kids (they love the worm.) I've booked several rooms at the same hotel where they're holding the annual Wiccan Community Wet T-shirt contest, and have scheduled three of America's finest dominatrixes to come by and give me their "Bob Crane" special. Yeah, it looks like my Halloween's gonna be a great one.

But what about you, dear, lonely Acid Logic reader? What can be done to bring a trifling of Halloween joy to your empty lives? I thought long and hard about what I could do to make your Halloween season a memorable one, and finally came across an epiphany. A Halloween theme issue! Wouldn't it be a gas if each Acid Logic contributor turned in a literary retelling of their scariest dream? Would that not make this the keenest Halloween ever?

Well, I thought so, but apparently no one else did. Max Burbank made a valiant effort with his analysis of our universal dreams, but it wasn't exactly hair raising. And Saleeby didn't even bother going anywhere near the subject instead offering up a bio of Tommy Chong. Sheesh!

Well, we're not going to let them spoil our Halloween are we? I know you depend on Acid Logic to make your holiday seasons enjoyable, especially since your family served you with that restraining order, so I'm going to do my best to entertain you. What follows is a actual retelling of what I consider to be the scariest dream of my life. Sit back with your glass of Thunderbird and let the eerie mood of the Acid Logic orange and yellow color scheme set your mind adrift to Morpheous' realm.

I was visiting my childhood home of Hawaii when I had the dream and fittingly enough, that's where it took place. It started with me wandering down a lonely two lane Hawaiian highway, presumably around 4:00 in the afternoon. I was essentially lost and had no way of knowing which direction to go to lead myself back into any sort of civilization. So I began walking down the highway, keeping and eye out for any oncoming traffic.

Eventually a truck did come down the road, and stopped to pick me up. The driver was a local (some mix of Japanese and Hawaiian) and he proceeded to start chatting me up with his thick pigin' accent. I responded to his friendliness, but was still struck with an uncomfortable feeling that something was out of place. And indeed this feeling was confirmed as I looked ahead on our road and saw a lone cloaked figure up ahead. It was a black hooded individual and though I couldn't see detail about this person as we approached, somehow, in the back of my mind I knew who it was. And indeed as we passed, I stared into this figure's face and saw I grinning human skull staring back at me. I was looking into the face of Death!

My compatriot made no notice of the figure as we passed him, and I got the impression he was unable to see the Grim Reaper. It was as if I had been granted some ability to see elements not apparent to normal humans. The local simply kept talking as we drove past our visitor, but I ignored his yammerings and looked back at the ghost we'd just passed. The apparition became smaller and smaller as we sped away from him, but I was still able to see him reach into a clock and hold up a piece of paper. Though I had no way of reading the document from a distance, dream logic informed my of what it symbolized. Death was in essence giving notice that he had come to claim a soul, and that either the driver or myself would soon reach the end of our journey through life.

Obviously, one thought raced through my brain. "One of us is going to die, so I damn well better make sure it's this chickenfuck sitting next to me!" There wasn't anything I could do to cause his death (unfortunately), but I knew I had one advantage over my good samitarian friend: I knew death was coming whereas he did not. If I stayed on my toes I just might make it out of the experience.

Soon, it became clearer just how death might isolate one of us. The road we were on was becoming windier and windier while the truck driver seemed to drive faster and faster. We were rounding corners at excessive speeds and though I politely admonished the driver to stop, he just kept on talking, oblivious to my pleas. The corners became sharper until the driver did manage to fail his turn and the truck flew of the road.

The area surrounding the highway we'd be driving in was a marshy, grassy environment, similar to what you'd expect in Louisiana or on the North Shore of Hawaii. The truck rose through the air and headed into a swampy lake. I knew that if I was in the truck when it touched water there would be a good chance I'd be stuck in it as it sank so I opened the door and leapt out. I landed in the water and seconds later heard the truck splash down. As far as I could tell, the local had not made it out, and I began a hurried rush for shore, performing the breaststroke of a young Mark Spitz. I kept my ear out for the local's voice, as I knew the less I heard from him, the more the chance that he was Death's intended victim. As I dragged my body onto the swampy shore it became obvious that I'd pulled it off. I was the survivor, and the Grim Reaper had chosen another for his embrace this day.

Then it happened. I heard the local's voice call out "Eh, braddah! I'm all right" and I saw him emerge from the depths of the lake. My heart sank as I lay on the muddy bank and I saw a shadow fall across my view. I looked up and saw the figure of Death above me. As I watched he pulled out a plastic wrapper and released it from his hand. It fluttered down and gracefully wrapped itself across my face. Instantly I was cut of from oxygen. For what seemed like minutes I lay there as the ache in my lungs increased and I felt the life drain from my body. Eventually... everything faded to black... and I woke up.

Pretty fucked up, huh? I remember waking up and realizing that old wives tail about how if you die in your sleep you die in real life wasn't true, but nonetheless, I was pretty shaken up. And I can recall the dream today with crystal clarity.

However, I'm glad you gave me the chance to share this dream with you. It really makes my feel like one of those zombiefied storytellers in the old E.C. comic books. You know, the CryptKeeper, or the GraveDigger, or the MausoleumFinancialAdvisor. Except unlike them I don't have a hideous decaying maw or rag covered, skeletal frame but rather a casual smile that's been described as "easy on the eyes" and a trim, Alec Baldwin-like figure. Yeah, I ain't no zombie. At least I got that going for me.

What do you think America? Leave your comments on the Guestbook!

Wil Forbis is a well known international playboy who lives a fast paced life attending chic parties, performing feats of derring-do and making love to the world's most beautiful women. Together with his partner, Scrotum-Boy, he is making the world safe for democracy. Email - acidlogic@hotmail.com

Visit Wil's web log, The Wil Forbis Blog, and receive complete enlightenment.