Dreams.

I was walking home from work, tired and feeling unwell. I wanted to have a drink, or maybe go to the gym; it was Monday, I knew that for sure, but I didn't go to the gym – it was too late. I saw four fencers in the courtyard in front of my building, all wearing good protective gear, but they were all fighting terribly clumsily. More precisely, two fencers and two female fencers, all with long swords, or rather, feder swords, and after the sparring, they went to the swings and pull-up bars. I showed them how to do pull-ups properly – I could do twice as many. After that, I invited them to my place. I told them that their techniques were crap, that I would beat them up, even though I was a sabre fencer, and I don't know what came over me then – I knew that my ancestors wouldn't tolerate weirdos. And they agreed, and I didn't know why I had invited them.
They came, a guy and a girl, and in that order, I beat them up. The guy started to get ready to leave. He was skinny and wore glasses. The girl tried to flirt with me, but she was fat, so I beat her up too, knocked out a couple of her teeth, and told them both to come back later, or I would come to train in the courtyard – then I would teach them how to fight. My ancestors showed up, and thank God the guy hadn't left yet – I said that I was teaching them how to fence. My ancestors were shocked, and I got in trouble, but not too badly. Although that fat woman had already started to undress – it was a terrible sight.

And then there was blood, and a lot of it, and the townspeople were attacking each other – some kind of collective madness, and I was slipping between them, afraid of getting caught – there were many of them, and I was alone. I slipped from the very edge of town towards my house. But then I was overcome by a bloodlust, and I started killing, and it was a rare blood feast, although in each fight there were always only about four people, no more. And I tore their throats, and I drank their blood, and I was very satisfied, and very worried – these were not my desires, these were predatory desires. And I think I killed my parents and tore their throats, and then the dream changed.

I was working again, but I couldn't show up at the base, because I was sick. My colleagues picked me up in a "Gazelle" van at an agreed-upon location. I helped them, and then I went home, avoiding everyone, because I was in quarantine. But that evening, I saw a girl, and it was the one I had been attracted to before, and with her was some kind of ghoul, fat and short – I wanted to kill him, the one who dared to get close to the one I cared about. I followed them, without attracting attention, and then it turned out that the ghoul was her grandmother, and my grandmother was walking next to them, and she was telling them what a fool I was. I said to my grandmother – why are you talking about me like that, you old hag? She said: what should I do, you have long hair, right, you're a criminal. I said – were you trying to hurt me? This life has no meaning for me, your words are nothing.
The next day, the Gazelle van didn't meet me. I walked around the neighboring areas, I waited, but it was all in vain. I scratched my head and felt that my long hair was breaking and tearing off, like rotten rags, and I was getting weaker each time, and I panicked. And then I woke up.