207 | 050714

Just after dusk, I was sitting at the edge of a large dirt arena with many of my high school classmates. A U.S. Postal Service truck was driving around erratically in the arena. It skidded around and came to a halt, and a fire extinguisher fell out of it. Someone came out of the truck to pick it up, and the back doors of the truck opened, revealing what appeared to be some sort of large weapon. It began shooting fire, a very thin laser-esque beam of stable fire to be exact. The tip of this fire laser extended dangerously close to the face of one of my classmates. This arena was attached to a dark mansion, and soon everyone was inside sitting at tables for dinner like it was a restaurant. I found myself sitting at an old organ with multiple tiers of keyboards, and I kept playing the theme to Unsolved Mysteries. Someone took my seat at my dinner table, so I decided to meander around. This mansion which was also a restaurant was also a theatre house, and I walked across a stage that was being built by students including Kuroski. Every last square centimeter of the stage was being made to look like a thin patriotic cake. I was later wearing this elaborate protective armor, which possibly came from the USPS truck. It was very bulky and awkward, mostly white, and reminded me of what someone would wear to fight grizzly bears. This suit granted me the ability to dodge bullets, but not easily. I ran around the arena in this suit, and bullets were being shot at me. I had to concentrate all of my agility and willpower to successfully dodge them. I had a vision of another feature of this armor: If you do in fact get shot, you will fully heal in several seconds. In this case, it was a vision of a facial wound healing inside of the helmet. After a while, there were zombies running amok in and around the mansion. They had no clothes and their skin was grayish purple. I was avoiding them at all costs. The house was also being infiltrated by another anomaly: Purple stains were beginning to emerge on the walls, mostly near ceilings, and the stains would eventually produce small volcano-shaped protrusions that had mouths that ultimately spit acid at anyone nearby. The house was filled with too many acid spitters, against which my suit was futile, so I was driven out of the house. I was running around my back yard, still avoiding zombies. I discovered that I could defeat them if I fight them one by one as hard as I can. At one point, I got a good look at one of their faces up close. Its mouth was formed into a tight small O, and I knew that it was trying to shoot a laser of fire out of its mouth. The zombies began physically merging with each other to form more powerful creatures. I was distinctly reminded of Mighty Morphin Power Rangers, and I heard a warped rendition of the Power Rangers TV theme echoing in the distance. I could not beat these combination-zombies. I no longer had my protective armor, but I was still barely able to dodge bullets that these combination-zombies were shooting at me.