Been having bits of dreams set in this place for a while now. Awoke from a semi coherent version this morning.
In the dream, I believe myself to be a government clerk or agent (not spy or a cop or anything remotely similar) working on the third or fourth floor of a weird building. There are distant and not so distant grinding sounds. Walls and door change locations from one day to the next. At times, I walk past recessed spaces filled with giant gears or skirt trap doors that open to more machinery. The place has a sort of early 20th century 'clockwork feel' to it.
I have two bosses: a large fellow who is grumpy and upset most of the time, and another who detests my very existence. Coworkers come and go - the house has a very high employee turnover. Yesterday's work buddy is today's empty desk. The pay sucks, and often comes in the form of a few bills doled out by ones of the bosses. I am constantly being ordered out of the building and onto the streets for what I believe are 'inspections' and 'investigations,' which mostly involve pointless roaming around a chilly, colorless metropolis with indifferent inhabitants.
Then the big boss appears at my desk, radiating hostility, and beckons me to follow him. I do so, and am guided to a death trap of a mechanical space. 'Enter,' he orders.
'Why?'
'Because you've lived to long.'
Instead, I flee - which brings me to the coda or conclusion.
I (apparently) notified the local law enforcement, who raided the building, which was a giant mechanical death trap. My bosses - both of them were multiple mass murderers who'd directly or indirectly killed most of their 'employees.' I wasn't really a 'government agent' at all, merely a temporary hireling who'd outlived most of his coworkers.
Last image:
grainy black and white pics of the House, showing it as a large three or four story 'U' shaped structure. Men in old time suits inspecting giant gears that moved walls and opened trapdoors.
In the dream, I believe myself to be a government clerk or agent (not spy or a cop or anything remotely similar) working on the third or fourth floor of a weird building. There are distant and not so distant grinding sounds. Walls and door change locations from one day to the next. At times, I walk past recessed spaces filled with giant gears or skirt trap doors that open to more machinery. The place has a sort of early 20th century 'clockwork feel' to it.
I have two bosses: a large fellow who is grumpy and upset most of the time, and another who detests my very existence. Coworkers come and go - the house has a very high employee turnover. Yesterday's work buddy is today's empty desk. The pay sucks, and often comes in the form of a few bills doled out by ones of the bosses. I am constantly being ordered out of the building and onto the streets for what I believe are 'inspections' and 'investigations,' which mostly involve pointless roaming around a chilly, colorless metropolis with indifferent inhabitants.
Then the big boss appears at my desk, radiating hostility, and beckons me to follow him. I do so, and am guided to a death trap of a mechanical space. 'Enter,' he orders.
'Why?'
'Because you've lived to long.'
Instead, I flee - which brings me to the coda or conclusion.
I (apparently) notified the local law enforcement, who raided the building, which was a giant mechanical death trap. My bosses - both of them were multiple mass murderers who'd directly or indirectly killed most of their 'employees.' I wasn't really a 'government agent' at all, merely a temporary hireling who'd outlived most of his coworkers.
Last image:
grainy black and white pics of the House, showing it as a large three or four story 'U' shaped structure. Men in old time suits inspecting giant gears that moved walls and opened trapdoors.