March 1, 2022 7:38 PM
A few years ago, I experienced the first in a series of hyper-realistic apocalypse dreams; finding myself at evening time in an old, dilapidated fishing shack in the Florida Everglades, with papered windows and holes in the walls and ceiling, I was peering out at the Gulf of Mexico in the distance to the West. Suddenly, a pinpoint of light appeared on the horizon and began rising up from the waterline, a trail of white smoke behind it. As this racing missile began arcing overhead, the world suddenly began turning away at a comparable speed and the night quickly sank in. Thereby, the projectile passed me in an easterly direction and disappeared in the direction of Miami—then, detonation.
The explosion was that of a sci-fi energy blast, where I saw a flash of blue/white electrical discharge. The expanding shockwave reached back to the location of my shack and passed clear through the walls, and also me, with little to no discernible effect, from my perspective. As I inspected myself, I turned and saw several more such detonations exploding elsewhere, too…
In my second dream, I was descending over an unknown city at night, but suspect it was nearby Birmingham, Alabama, which was presently experiencing rolling blackouts and several untamed fires were breaking out, too. I soon spotted a man and woman crossing the railroad tracks near downtown, recognizing the couple as my wife and I, she wearing her many pocketed “bailout jacket” which she keeps stocked w/ various small emergency items. Ahead of us, the streets were chaos; dozens of vehicles were abandoned in the middle of traffic w/ some aflame but not a single engine running, there were multiple fender benders and doors ajar. Gangs of violent people, some armed, were roaming around and pursuing smaller groups or individuals, looters were scrambling in and out of smashed shop windows carrying televisions, even on the rooftops people seemed to be fighting one another and yelling angrily from windows.
Just passing through, we traveled up the way, cautious to avoid the mobs, when a whistle was blown across the street and a lone police officer signaled us, ordering that we, of all people, stop for questioning in the middle of all the pandemonium. We perceived it was of wickedness and bolted away into the alley w/ the whistle sounding behind us, then I pulled open a rear fire exit door that was unlocked, for some reason; it lead directly into a stairwell so we began to climb a few flights of stairs—emergency lighting was on inside and we stopped to rest on a landing w/ apartment doors, thinking we might have lost the officer.
Suddenly, the stomp of booted footsteps was bounding up to us faster than we could respond and the police officer cornered us w/ a weapon drawn. I do not remember exactly what was spoken, but there seemed to be some vague mention of our faith as Christians and the officer was loudly enraged; now, the apartment door behind them opened as the tenant interrupted, demanding answers and distracting the cop just long enough for someone else to pull a gun and pop off a shot – the cop went down and people from within the apartment came charging out with firearms of their own. The dream ended w/ a gunfight in a stairwell.
In this dream I was walking down a dim, unfamiliar wallpapered hallway with my wife and children following behind, and stood aside as they entered a bedroom and all collapsed onto the bed, exhausted, in front of a television set broadcasting the news. It sat upon a wooden dresser, but several drawers had been pulled-out and upended in a hurry. Some clothes were still scattered across the floor there, but I noted that my wife was again wearing the same jacket from my last dream.
As I turned to peer out a second story window at what I recognized to be a deserted New England street, I observed white slat fences, fishing nets hanging from building sides, banging storm shutters, trash blowing around and, in the distance, the rocky ocean beach under an overcast sky; but no people. Within the home, I can still imagine the gentle creaking of shiplap walls against the wind, perhaps a clock ticking somewhere nearby, a faint hint of mildew – these dreams were very real to me. Looking away, I noticed that a refrigerator door in the kitchen, back down the hall, was left open and some groceries had spilled out.
I entered the bathroom, opposite the bedroom, and looked in the mirror then turned on a faucet to splash water on my face as my wife called from across the hall, “Babe, they’re saying an earthquake is happening, somewhere else off in the country…”
💥 It hit.
Suddenly, as if this were happening right outside rather than thousands of miles from the epicenter, the whole house lurched and shook violently while the earth rumbled and I grabbed hold of the sink with both hands to steady myself; a horrible crack of splintering wood almost deafened me as dust and debris poured down all around—I awoke and opened my eyes, thinking “The New Madrid”
The night before I began typing out these testimonies, I received a new dream – incredible timing, because I had just agreed to do so but been distracted by a Bible Study the first night and determined to begin sharing them the next day after; between then and when I began, I had another such dream for the first time in years – and a very strange one, I might add.
🌇 Here we go…
Once more, I found myself descending over a city and this time at sunset. There was a wide river below to my left which ran past with another part of town over there and I was closing in on a fairly nondescript church building beyond the edge of town, which was on a hillside off the highway, angular with a red roof and a balcony above the front doors. Upon observing this, it was now that I realized I was actually riding a red hang-glider as I came in over the parking lot and touched down for a perfect landing on the rails of the upper balcony outside. I stepped down safely and discarded the contraption, then entered the building.
Across a narrow hall was another set of doors opening onto an interior balcony. From this vantage point, I saw a few people—about eight, I think, from counting at a glance—who were doing various tasks like setting up mircrophones, leading a Bible Study or attending it and some were children, perhaps more present than I could see at the moment. Suddenly, more people entered below and I heard the voice of my son greeting other kids so I turned to go down. Exiting to the hallway once more, I saw my wife on the outside balcony with her back towards me, arms folded; she looked upset and I approached to wrap my arms around her and rest my head on her shoulder. For a moment, we watched the sunset together quietly.
All at once we were staggered by the blast and sound-shock of an incredible, massive explosion! The hillside trembled as we shielded our faces and shut our eyes tightly, then helped one another back to our feet – I must specify that we did not see the explosion, it seems to have struck across the river several miles away and the angle of the church building where the wall turned at a corner was blocking our view and kept us from a direct line of sight. We did, however, quickly begin to see a billowing cloud of hot dust and debris drifting over towards downtown, expelled fireballs arcing downwards into the skyline and surrounding districts, starting fires of their own where they impacted under the darkening orange sky.
As we gazed in horror, my wife asked how big I thought the explosion must have been, to which I tried to explain that the Hiroshima bomb was a nuclear blast, but comparably small in light of the atomic testing of the 1950–60s and beyond, and that I simply had no way to know. At this moment, we realized we were not alone out there and from the shadows emerged none other than (wait for it) Agent Fox Moulder from the X Files. Without any explanation for himself, he simply interjected and began mathematically explaining something about megaton payload and distance from ground zero, etc. but what I distinctly remember was that he said the blast we had just experienced was two and half times greater than that of Hiroshima.
I never much watched the X Files as a kid,
but as I understand it the premise was FBI
agents investigating supernatural conspiracy
theories and government coverups…
At this, the wife and I both pulled out our phones and as she snapped photos, I began recording a video of the spreading flames and rising columns of smoke that were beginning to fill the horizon. As I zoomed in I noticed distant shapes moving quickly in the sky above, then a military Harrier jet drifted around into view just long enough to positively identify it, and I awoke.