I seldom remember my dreams, but this one last night stuck with me enough and freaked me out enough that I had to turn on a light and do something else for a bit to shake it off. Let me tell you about it . . .
I was in a rundown old house with a group of rough, dirty, kind of dense people. I'll call them hillbillies, with apologies to all intelligent, well dressed people who live in the hills.
Things were going okay until one part of the group got suspicious of the others for some reason and lines were drawn. So were knives. I wasn't sure who I could trust, but I knew I didn't like the people I was with (the suspicious ones), so decided to sneak off and find the others (who had somehow disappeared.) The crazy hillbillies didn't want me to leave, though, and chased me. I got out, but someone, a good guy I hoped, told me to hide in the basement. While in the basement I found a lot of large panes of glass, so I broke one, took a big shard, and, now that I was "armed", I joined the fight. I stabbed a few people and slashed someone's throat and, in between the killing, I ran and hid from everyone because by that point I didn't know who was safe. Blood and gore were everywhere and, even when I found my way out a time or two, I kept ending up inside again, or in the basement! I woke up just after someone stabbed me in the back.
Let's see Google interpret that one!
