Why, they're alternate-dimension, post-apocalyptic Nazis, of course.

I am fascinated by dreams. My dreams, other peoples dreams, TV shows that do episodes including or made up of dreams, other "planets" where the entire existence is a dream and possibly all in the mind of a horror-god-like entity who lives to drive species insane... Sometimes my favorite part of going to sleep is dreaming.

So I very often bore everyone I know telling them what my dreams were, which no one cares about nearly as much as I do (understandably), and once I get through explaining them, they sound stupider and have many more holes in them than I originally thought. This is frustrating. So I'm trying to write down my dreams (or type them if I can since I type _much_ faster) and I thought I should keep an account here.

This is a dream I had this morning before leaving for work. When I woke up I immediately got up to type it up and I sent it to Michael:

Michael and I (and two companions I didn't know) were trying to get away from Nazi's from an alternate dimension where the apocalypse had happened. They were trying to recreate said apocalypse starting with a huge building that was very labyrinth-like. We got out just in time by working with the previous villain (who looked like Eric from True Blood). Apparently in an early episode of my dream-world, he was working against us for...something...but when the Nazis showed up he turned good (sort of) to help us defeat the Nazis (all self interested, I'm sure). To defeat them we had to, obviously, distract them with my collar. While they were inexplicably distracted and mesmerized, Michael and Eric shot the head Nazis down.

We retrieved the collar and ran out barely escaping before and same anomaly that brought the Nazis here rearranged all the rooms inside turning the place into a creepy purgatory/haunted house that could suck people in if they either got lost among the rooms causing them to never want to leave thinking it was the last vestige of civilization left in a post-apocalyptic society. We had successfully averted the apocalypse except for this isolated location and were unable to save anyone who'd been trapped inside now living their half-lives convinced the world was over.

Michael and I soon noticed that the collar we brought back wasn't the right one. Michael got upset and I started sobbing. Thinking rationally, though, I explained logically that we could get another made. Michael insisted on going back in. We knew the weight room it was in (that's where we shot down the Nazis, keep up!) would be findable if we just traveled in a straight course on the ground floor. Michael told me to wait so I could help you out when you returned.

But I worried there'd be a trick or puzzle and had notice that Michael was visibly tired and weak. So I went in running. Each room opened to the next (and they were mostly all small), until one who's wall was closed. Sandy was there (all of a sudden) and explained I could just push them open because they weren't real anyway. So that's what I did and it worked. Each wall or fake door would swing open from the center when I shoved them. Then I came to a staircase and went down.

After going through five or six rooms I came upon another down-staircase in a similar room; I realized I'd made a mistake and surveyed the room, realizing that if I went around I could crawl up on a platform that would bring me to the next room on this floor. So I backtracked to the first staircase and found that room was the
same.

I went several more rooms before coming to the weight room. I found my collar, stepped on a Nazi's head (he was trying to shoot me; I pulled out my gun afterward just in case). I ran back through the halls and rooms I'd opened up and caught up with Michael in the cafeteria (which is right near the exit). Michael looked sad and explained he'd gotten lost one floor below before realizing we weren't supposed to go downstairs in the first place. He'd found his way back and made his way to the cafeteria, but hadn't been able to find the weight room. I wrapped my arms around him and showed him the collar and explained the "trick" of the "maze".

(Now, granted, I saw the setup of the place, because this is a dream and that can happen, and it was actually quite a maze. We just happened to be following one direct route that conveniently got us what we wanted (as long as we figured out the one trick that was along the way) and would be easy to return from. People apparently got lost from veering off the main path, and there were many attractive things encouraging you to do so.)

The whole building was built in a Gothic Victorian style. Very old looking, very well decorated with lots of beautiful wooden furniture, tapestries, warm, comforting lightly, and various rooms with different themes. Some of them were shops, some were bedrooms, some were game rooms. The cafeteria was exactly as warm and old except for the high school cafeteria style tables and chairs set up. While in the cafeteria we got distracted.

Families were eating loads of food, all different kinds, and hoarding it like it was really the end of the world. Mom's were rationing what children had left, some adults were drinking multiple bottles of liquor at a time. The staff was made up of zombies (some of which were the zombies we'd killed before, but they were nice. _Very_ nice. We were offered multiple drinks and were about to have one when a little boy ran up to us (he was apparently part of our party) and knocked them out of our hands.

We remembered that eating or drinking anything while in the building would get us caught here so we started following him out. On the way out he stopped, intrigued by a corn dog one mom offered him to try. He ate it and was immediately mesmerized.

This is the part of the story where the maternal/paternal instincts we have would kick in and we'd grab him anyway to leave. Then it would trip some horrible thing happening because we tried to take something that the house or whatever rightfully earned. Hijinks would ensure, likely death for one of us would follow, and we would have either caused more destruction or had to save the day again or both. Probably both.

But no, not in my dream; we both essentially said "fuck the kid" to each other with a glance, grabbed hands and ran out the door. I think we were being pursued. We got back to the van, rushed in to get going, and when we turned back to look, the place dissolved, being replaced by a gorgeous graveyard.

I turned to Michael, handed him my collar, and as he went to put it back on me, I woke up.

... ... ...

I don't know either, but I completely want to write a schlocky science fiction story about alternate universe Nazis from a post-apocalyptic society crossing over and trying to destroy the world. Santa or the Easter Bunny or William Shatner will have to save the day.