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Description
     Nightmare #1 - The Golden Hotel

     I stand outside a miraculous building.
     It is an enormous structure. Large enough to fit a school, five-star hotel, and several skyscrapers all in one. However, its size is only one thing that makes it stand out from the bleak, tortured landscape.
     It is made of solid gold.
     Defying all natural laws of physics, the building is made of soft, incandescent gold. Every last component of the structure is made of the substance that so many men have killed for. Every nut, bolt, and nail.
     I walk up the hill of dead grass and approach the massive double doors. Without apparent cause, they begin to slide inward on oiled hinges.
     Without knowing exactly why, I walk inside.
     The entrance hall is as massive as I expected it to be. The cieling extends so high, the lights can't reach it. The support pillars claw into the blackness. Around me, I see a reception desk to the left, and a waiting lobby to the right. Not surprisingly, there insn't a single scrap of non-gold to be seen.
     I approach the kiosk. The porter is standing there, writing something impossibly with a gold pen on gold paper. His golden suit crinkles as he looks up at me.
     "Yes sir, how can I help you?" He asks in a calm voice. In the back of my mind, something changes. I feel a sudden spark of panic and fear, just at the sound of this porter's voice. Maybe it is the emotionless tone of it, maybe it is the dead look in his eyes, but whatever it is, it disturbs me greatly.
     I say quakingly, "Um, yes. I'm looking for Bob." I am confused suddenly. I have no idea why I am asking this.
     "Ah yes. He just went to an elevator, for his room." He points to his left, down a hallway.
     I look, and catch a glimpse of a large man disappearing into an elevator.
     "Thank you," I gasp, and, without knowing precisely why, I dash off toward that elevator, in the hope that I can catch it before it closes.
     I peel down the hallway at a speed I thought was unattainable for my current physical shape. The man sees me, and holds the elevator door aside with an enormous hand. Without pretense, I step inside.
     I am forced to shuffle to the side of the elevator, due to this man's prodigious girth. I look up at him, to asess his appearance.
     Bob was a very large African man, sporting a deep purple party suit. He was wearing a green tie with it, and also had an impressive brown afro. He pays no attention to me as I appraise him, for some reason he is unaware of my prescence.
     Suddenly, I hear a loud creaking noise. It comes from my feet. I look down, and to my amazement, I see the only thing in the entire building that isn't made out of gold.
     The floor of the elevator. Instead of gold, it is made of thin, dirty plywood. This choice of building material makes no sense to me, and I am puzzled by it.
     Then, I hear a loud snap. It comes directly from underneath Bob.
     Then, without warning, the floor gives away entirely under his significant weight.
     He falls through the hole, and I can only watch in shock as he plummets down the elevator shaft. I walk over to the large hole in the floor, being wary of the cracked edges. I look down the shaft.
     At the bottom of the shaft is something that is absolutley bizarre.
     The shaft leads to a damp pit at the bottom, with several large granite spikes thrusting from the murky green water. Bob is in midair, falling quickly, and I realize exactly what is going to happen.
     True to my horrible prediction, Bob is impaled on one of the spikes. A spout of blood erupts form his ruptured chest cavity. There is no way he survived the impact.
     But, I am wrong in that assumption. Bob, stricken on the spike, cranes his neck upward, and looks directly at me. He is wearing a smile on his face, one completely devoid of emotion. A smile of death and murder.
     I am horrified. Bob is supposed to be dead. He couldn't have survive that fall. My eyes are playing tricks on me. I look away from the pit and step away from the hole, waiting for the elevator to reach its destination.
     Eventually, the elevator stops. I let out a sigh of relief. I need to get out, out of view of the impaled man at the bottom of the shaft. The doors open, and I step out.
     For some inexplicable reason,evator doesn't lead to a hallway. It doesn't even lead indoors. It leads outside.
     The elevatro shuts behind me, and I am left in a courtyard of sorts. There is actual, real, healthy grass. And to my amazement, there is a tree. In the center of the yard, on the summit of a hill, a genuine tree.
     That must be why I am here. The tree. I must be here for the tree. Without pramble, I run over to it.
     I stand underneath the tree's branches, savoring the cool breeze on my face. The blackened, burned sky opresses, but the breeze releives. The whisper of the leaves in the wind is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard.
     Suddenly, a voice says from behind me, "Hey. You. You have my homework?"
     I whip around to see who is asking such an odd question, and my eyes are met with an answer they refuse to accept.
     It is a dog. Standing on its hind legs. Wearing a red sweater, with a red beanie with a golden "D" on the front.
     It says to me, "Yeah. I know what you're here for. Now, cut to the chase and give me my homework."
     This dog's words are not registering. I am still trying to digest the fact that it is a dog speaking to me.
     "Hey. Asshole. The papers. Now."
     As comical as the scene is, it suddenly becomes threatening. There is a definite edge of malice to this dog's voice.
     I manage to speak, "I... have no idea what you're-"
     "What?! You promised!"
     "No, I didn't, there must be some sort of-"
     Without warning or cause, the leaves of the tree shrivel and disappear. The whisper is silenced. The breeze is quelled. I look back to the strange creature, searching for a cause of this terrible phenomenon.
     It is no longer the semi-comical figure I saw it to be. It is hunched over on the ground, twitching and spewing blood and vomit from its mouth. Suddenly, in a wash of blood and viscera, something explodes from within the dog.
     It is a massive creature, made of fire and shadows. I can feel the heat from the monster's skin, it burns me. But I can't move. I've lost control of my legs.
     Suddenly, I understand. This is the creature that is causing everything here. The dead porter, the horrible death of Bob. This monstrosity is causing everything. And now, I am in its clutches, with no way out.
     It roars a cry so impossibly loud, I am instantly deafened. If I live through this, I will never be able to hear again. In silence, The creature of death and fire raises one of its many spiked limbs, and brings it down for a death strike.
     I cannot move. I stare at the bloody, torn limb, helpless. I close my eyes, and await my death.

     Then, I wake up.

Description
     Nightmare #1 - The Golden Hotel

     I stand outside a miraculous building.
     It is an enormous structure. Large enough to fit a school, five-star hotel, and several skyscrapers all in one. However, its size is only one thing that makes it stand out from the bleak, tortured landscape.
     It is made of solid gold.
     Defying all natural laws of physics, the building is made of soft, incandescent gold. Every last component of the structure is made of the substance that so many men have killed for. Every nut, bolt, and nail.
     I walk up the hill of dead grass and approach the massive double doors. Without apparent cause, they begin to slide inward on oiled hinges.
     Without knowing exactly why, I walk inside.
     The entrance hall is as massive as I expected it to be. The cieling extends so high, the lights can't reach it. The support pillars claw into the blackness. Around me, I see a reception desk to the left, and a waiting lobby to the right. Not surprisingly, there insn't a single scrap of non-gold to be seen.
     I approach the kiosk. The porter is standing there, writing something impossibly with a gold pen on gold paper. His golden suit crinkles as he looks up at me.
     "Yes sir, how can I help you?" He asks in a calm voice. In the back of my mind, something changes. I feel a sudden spark of panic and fear, just at the sound of this porter's voice. Maybe it is the emotionless tone of it, maybe it is the dead look in his eyes, but whatever it is, it disturbs me greatly.
     I say quakingly, "Um, yes. I'm looking for Bob." I am confused suddenly. I have no idea why I am asking this.
     "Ah yes. He just went to an elevator, for his room." He points to his left, down a hallway.
     I look, and catch a glimpse of a large man disappearing into an elevator.
     "Thank you," I gasp, and, without knowing precisely why, I dash off toward that elevator, in the hope that I can catch it before it closes.
     I peel down the hallway at a speed I thought was unattainable for my current physical shape. The man sees me, and holds the elevator door aside with an enormous hand. Without pretense, I step inside.
     I am forced to shuffle to the side of the elevator, due to this man's prodigious girth. I look up at him, to asess his appearance.
     Bob was a very large African man, sporting a deep purple party suit. He was wearing a green tie with it, and also had an impressive brown afro. He pays no attention to me as I appraise him, for some reason he is unaware of my prescence.
     Suddenly, I hear a loud creaking noise. It comes from my feet. I look down, and to my amazement, I see the only thing in the entire building that isn't made out of gold.
     The floor of the elevator. Instead of gold, it is made of thin, dirty plywood. This choice of building material makes no sense to me, and I am puzzled by it.
     Then, I hear a loud snap. It comes directly from underneath Bob.
     Then, without warning, the floor gives away entirely under his significant weight.
     He falls through the hole, and I can only watch in shock as he plummets down the elevator shaft. I walk over to the large hole in the floor, being wary of the cracked edges. I look down the shaft.
     At the bottom of the shaft is something that is absolutley bizarre.
     The shaft leads to a damp pit at the bottom, with several large granite spikes thrusting from the murky green water. Bob is in midair, falling quickly, and I realize exactly what is going to happen.
     True to my horrible prediction, Bob is impaled on one of the spikes. A spout of blood erupts form his ruptured chest cavity. There is no way he survived the impact.
     But, I am wrong in that assumption. Bob, stricken on the spike, cranes his neck upward, and looks directly at me. He is wearing a smile on his face, one completely devoid of emotion. A smile of death and murder.
     I am horrified. Bob is supposed to be dead. He couldn't have survive that fall. My eyes are playing tricks on me. I look away from the pit and step away from the hole, waiting for the elevator to reach its destination.
     Eventually, the elevator stops. I let out a sigh of relief. I need to get out, out of view of the impaled man at the bottom of the shaft. The doors open, and I step out.
     For some inexplicable reason,evator doesn't lead to a hallway. It doesn't even lead indoors. It leads outside.
     The elevatro shuts behind me, and I am left in a courtyard of sorts. There is actual, real, healthy grass. And to my amazement, there is a tree. In the center of the yard, on the summit of a hill, a genuine tree.
     That must be why I am here. The tree. I must be here for the tree. Without pramble, I run over to it.
     I stand underneath the tree's branches, savoring the cool breeze on my face. The blackened, burned sky opresses, but the breeze releives. The whisper of the leaves in the wind is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard.
     Suddenly, a voice says from behind me, "Hey. You. You have my homework?"
     I whip around to see who is asking such an odd question, and my eyes are met with an answer they refuse to accept.
     It is a dog. Standing on its hind legs. Wearing a red sweater, with a red beanie with a golden "D" on the front.
     It says to me, "Yeah. I know what you're here for. Now, cut to the chase and give me my homework."
     This dog's words are not registering. I am still trying to digest the fact that it is a dog speaking to me.
     "Hey. Asshole. The papers. Now."
     As comical as the scene is, it suddenly becomes threatening. There is a definite edge of malice to this dog's voice.
     I manage to speak, "I... have no idea what you're-"
     "What?! You promised!"
     "No, I didn't, there must be some sort of-"
     Without warning or cause, the leaves of the tree shrivel and disappear. The whisper is silenced. The breeze is quelled. I look back to the strange creature, searching for a cause of this terrible phenomenon.
     It is no longer the semi-comical figure I saw it to be. It is hunched over on the ground, twitching and spewing blood and vomit from its mouth. Suddenly, in a wash of blood and viscera, something explodes from within the dog.
     It is a massive creature, made of fire and shadows. I can feel the heat from the monster's skin, it burns me. But I can't move. I've lost control of my legs.
     Suddenly, I understand. This is the creature that is causing everything here. The dead porter, the horrible death of Bob. This monstrosity is causing everything. And now, I am in its clutches, with no way out.
     It roars a cry so impossibly loud, I am instantly deafened. If I live through this, I will never be able to hear again. In silence, The creature of death and fire raises one of its many spiked limbs, and brings it down for a death strike.
     I cannot move. I stare at the bloody, torn limb, helpless. I close my eyes, and await my death.

     Then, I wake up.