The Vault Dream - November 23rd, 2016

We're following a woman in a baby blue squad uniform with a gun and a flashlight, surveying the back of a warehouse. You can hear her team (who have spread out) chatting to each other on the other side of some large, industrial shelves, but this woman is on the walkie-talkie to someone. It becomes evident that I am the woman, and the man I'm speaking to on the walkie-talkie is, in fact, Sherlock Holmes (Benedict Cumberbatch version).

I'm teasing him about finding the "stash" first: he thinks I'm bluffing, telling me it would be impossible to find without his help.

"No, I'm serious, it's really here!" I say, as I pry open a controls box with the butt of my gun. 

The box is empty apart from one lever, so I pull it. The wall next to me automatically opens up and I step in.

What follows are countless corridors, all separated by an automatic door with four, red lights along the top. These rooms are a white-ish green colour but I think the green tinge was because of the lighting. It was clearly underground and there were some strong bulbs in the ceiling.

I went through about 15 doors until I came to a room. It was seemingly the only room in this place, and when I stepped in, the automatic door didn't close behind me. I put my gun down and look around. Each wall has an empty display cabinet, comprised of four glass shelves, two little cupboards and four drawers. As I walk over to the back wall and reach my hand out, the cabinet starts moving and displaying secret things hidden within. The back wall shows an array of weaponry, ranging from modern firearms to vintage bayonets. The second wall displays rare gems and diamonds, some of which nobody has even seen before; I turn on my walkie-talkie.

 "Sherlock, are you there? You're not going to believe this."

As I move over to the third wall, nothing moves. I frown and tap the display cabinet but nothing. Then I hear an automated click and the drawers slide open. I bend down to look through them but I'm confused when all the first drawer has in it is Rosa Parks' profile in it. I skim through the papers as Sherlock responds on the walkie-talkie, asking what I see. The profile says that Rosa was secretly assassinated by the government because of a secret uprising she was planning in memoriam of Viola Desmond. I hurriedly open the second drawer. Anne Frank, actually lived through the war, was assassinated when she went to write another book. Third drawer: Blake Brockington, suicide was faked, assassinated for the attempt to make more strides in the LGBT civil rights movement.

I start panicking and back away from the drawers, realising I've just come across documents no one is supposed to see. I grab my gun and run out of the room, through the endless amount of doors until I run into my aunt's hallway. I look around and have somehow ended up in my aunt's house (again, might I add: I always seem to end up here in my dreams). I walk past a room with a piano and a giant, scary-looking doll. It's head turns and it kind of looks at me with it's dead, painted eyes, then turns back and resumes playing Sonata 16 by Mozart. I walk down the hallway into my aunt's kitchen, expecting either her or Chris to jump out. I remember that I'm dreaming, and I also remember that in accordance to my previous dreams, this is where I always get told I'm nothing and that I'll never achieve anything and that I'm a liar (and so on). But as I wait there, no one comes. There's no indication of either of them being home, even though the backlight is on.

I look out of the backdoor to see Mr J (an old family friend) walking around on the lawn, using a stick to prod some of the dog toys out of the way. He's muttering to himself but he looks relatively content. I then wonder how he got there, seeing as he's dead in real life.

I turn around but now the kitchen is gone and I'm back in the weird underground vault place. I start walking forward until I hear a woman's scream. Then another. Then another. Soon the room and the dream and my head seem to be filling with these blood-curdling screams, and I fall to the floor, clamping my hands on the sides of my head, hoping it'll stop. But it doesn't.

Eventually I'm driven insane and I start screaming. However, as soon as I start, the others stop. The dream just ends with me screaming bloody-murder into an open, quiet vault.