I was audience to my dream rather than a participant in it and watched my protagonist, a young blonde woman, trying to open a locker. It looked as though she were in a locker room where employees (of what type?) might change into and out of their work clothes. But this young woman was not trying to change. She was not herself. That is, I somehow knew that there was someone else peering out of her eyes, someone who knew themselves to be other than a young blonde woman. They knew they had to draw no attention to the young blonde woman lest someone notice that she was not acting as she normally would. This person, my protagonist, hurriedly attempted to collect a bag of clothes, a wallet and keys from the locker with the intention of somehow locating the right car and getting the heck out of Dodge, but at the crucial moment, my protagonist shut the locker and realized that the keys were still inside. This was a problem since the protagonist, not actually being but just looking like the young blonde woman who's locker it was, had no idea what the locker combination might be.
Just then, another employee entered the locker room and, initiating conversation, implied that the protagonist was expected at work. They walked together into the next room. Several others were in this room. Everyone was relaxed, but the protagonist was on guard. There was something about her these others mustn't find out. A coworker began speaking to her and she placed her bag of clothes on the counter. Another coworker began going through the bag and a feeling of dread and panic struck our protagonist. The coworker asked, "What are these?" as he pulled bloody articles of clothing out of the bag. "Why is there blood all over them?"
At this point the nature of the dream altered - I was still audience rather than participant and the young blonde woman was still my protagonist, but I could no longer sense whether she was herself or someone else and I had no way of knowing whether what followed was the truth or an absurd lie she constructed on the spur of the moment, though I suspected it was a lie. It doesn't matter either way, because her telling of the thing, true or false, brought it into being. She said: "I am a werewolf hunter. That's werewolf blood. I am protected by the guards and you can't do anything to me."
Suddenly, the coworkers were not coworkers. There were three very tall, wicked looking creatures (I've been thinking of them as demons, but not with a religious connotation, rather very earthy and actual). Two of these creatures wore long black cloaks and had brownish skin. No hair, pointy teeth and chin, very Nosferatu-looking. The third looked similar, but wore no cloak and had pasty pale skin. It was clear that the two cloaked creatures were the young blonde woman's guards and the third creature wanted to devour her alive.
An indeterminate period of time ensued where the young woman would taunt the pale creature, teasing him and then retreating beneath the cloaks of the guards, pressing close against them, knowing they would protect her. A moment came later, as she stood in the middle of the room daring to step away from the guards, where the pale creature approached her. She backed up until she was sitting next to a guard and cuddled against him in fear. The pale creature still approached. He slowly reached out and took one of the young woman's wrists in his hand. He leaned his head down and played a moist tongue over the pulse in her wrist. As if to reassure herself and explain why the guards would let him get so close to her without acting, the young woman told him, "You haven't tried to hurt me. My guards will protect me if you do."
The pale creature, keeping one wrist encircled, slowly took her other arm and lifted its wrist toward the head of the guard she leaned against. The guard encircled the wrist with one hand and bent over it, much like the pale creature was doing. The pale creature said, "Yes, they're here to protect you." And then both the pale creature and the guard chuckled, as though they enjoyed a joke between themselves, and they each leaned over either wrist of the young woman, slowly playing their tongues across her pulse, sniffing at her blood just below the thin skin. At this moment, I suddenly ceased being an audience to my own dream and became its protagonist. I sat there, my arms helplessly outstretched with a creature attached on either side, and I realized they'd been playing a game with me the entire time and that my protectors were waiting to devour me as well as my foe.
I woke up.
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