The Shooter Returns

Last night, while driving, I was stopped at a red light. The car stopped beside me suddenly reversed and spun around, tearing off in the opposite direction. It was an unmarked police car, as it lit up in sea of blue and red lights.

Another police car raced by going the other way. And another.

Although I continued along the road, I soon came to the place all those police cars were going. Getting out of the car, I could see a sniper and his accomplice. They were inside a high-rise, on the top floor, visible through the window. The sniper was firing down to the street. Shooting people. Shooting more people. Shooting at me. Shooting at the police.
I ran. I ran. I ran down the street, hiding in my childhood home, watching out the front window.

I could see the sniper and his friend methodically shooting innocent people, as the two killers made their way down the street toward me.

They saw me !

They were both firing now, showering my home with bullets. I fired back. A huge firefight erupted. They advanced. I shot them dead. A bloody mess of dead.

Then I woke up.

Over the Edge

Last night we were on a train , heading home from a convention. We were only about ten minutes away from our destination when the train slowly came to a halt.

We were puzzled by why we would be stopping, but eventually some police personnel made their way through the cars, demanding to see everyones documentation, and any valuables they were carrying.

This seemed rather odd, but as it turns out, one of the passengers did not mention that he was carrying a sandwich. The police then proceeded to seize all sandwiches, and warned us that any hidden sandwiches will result in dire consequences.

As we were waiting for the sandwich police to finish up, I stood outside having a cigarette – despite the fact that I don’t smoke. I watched a helicopter circle and then proceed to head in for a landing on a five-story apartment building. I watched the chopper slow down, descend, touch the roof of the building, slide off the edge and fall to the street, showering pieces of debris as it hit the ground.

I ran over, there was wreckage strewn everywhere, bodies and pieces of bodies littered the street. Fire everywhere. Then, out of the main wreck, emerged a young woman, unscathed.

She said “I’m fine, I’m fine.”  and walked away. Everyone else from the aircraft was dead.

The police from the train ran over, and arrested me for leaving the train.

Then I woke up.