You’ve heard of the story called “Monkey Dream,” right? People who happen to be riding on a certain train end up being killed in order in particular ways. You can look it up quite easily if you haven’t read it yet, it’s one of the most popular stories from 2chan.
So, about this monkey dream. It’s common for stories like this to read comments from people who have suffered the same fate as the original poster, but I didn’t see any like that. It was easy to read, so I scanned through it pretty quickly. But that was my first mistake. About four days after reading it, I had a terrifying dream that was a continuation of the original.
A rehash can never be better than the original. I know that well, but let me tell you about what happened in my dream.
In the dream, I was on the roller coaster at a theme park in Nagoya City. I don’t think it exists anymore, but it was a ride for kids that slowly went around one section of the park. I went there when I was small, so I don’t remember the details very well, but I think the ride was about five minutes long. There was a small tunnel just before you exit, and I remember coming out the other side and seeing my father standing there with a camera. Next to him, my mother was smiling and waving. This was before my father started to act abusive, so it’s one of my happiest and most precious memories.
Back in the dream, I was sitting in the front seat of the roller coaster. Next to me was my younger sister when she was a child. At the time I was looking up at her, but in the dream I was my normal 20-year-old adult self. We didn’t even look like siblings separated by age, we looked like a father and child. But I tried to enjoy the nostalgia of the dream nevertheless.
We drove around the course slowly, and finally approached the tunnel.
“Once we’re through here, I’ll be able to see my gentle father again!” I thought.
But once we were on the other side, it was no longer the park. The roller coaster changed into a train, and I was sitting in Car Five. My sister was gone. The door connecting to Car Four, the smoking car, opened and I could smell smoke. I often use the bullet train for work, so that’s probably how it connected in my dream.
Familiar scenery passed by outside the train windows, but the one thing that was different to reality was how quiet it was. Not only that, but the two and three seater chairs were, for the most part, empty. There was only one person seated in the window seat of each row, and everyone’s complexions were awful.
“How strange,” I thought, and next thing I knew, I was pulling my MD player out of my bag and listening to my favourite song.
Then the bullet train started to slow down.
“That’s odd. It’s too soon to be arriving in Kyoto. Is it stopping at Gifu-Hashima Station today?” I thought. I took my headphones out to hear the station name, but I was too late and couldn’t catch it.
The train stopped at an unknown station, and a scream ripped through the silent train car. It sounded like it was coming from the rear. Despite how awful it was, not a single person reacted to it. Did something happen? But I couldn’t see all the way back there. Not a single person got off the train, and then it slowly started moving again.
Not even five minutes had passed before it slowed again. I was able to hear the name of the next station.
The train stopped at another unknown station, and again, I heard a scream. I panicked and looked towards the rear of the car. A middle-aged woman was being hoisted in the air. I couldn’t see very well, but there was a rope around her neck and her hands were clawing at it. The sound of her feet kicking the seat and walls echoed throughout the car. I finally realised just what this dream was. It was, I dare say, the Monkey Dream. I had to wake up as soon as possible. But I wasn’t the type of person who could wake up at will, so I was forced to continue the dream a little longer.
The first thing I needed to know was how many people had been killed, and what number I was. The last quarter of the car I was in, Car Five, appeared empty, but it was possible that those people had already been killed by the monkey dream’s “live carving” and “scooping out.” I was sitting in the sixth seat from the front. It was a little too soon for it to be my turn, but I had to wake up at once. But no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t do it. I heard screams behind me, over and over. Then I saw the usual snack woman, a smile on her face, as she pushed the snack cart down the aisle. Only it wasn’t snacks on her cart. It was human organs.
“I can’t do this anymore. I gotta wake up. Come on, wake up. Wake up!”
I looked back to confirm when my turn was. Several people behind me had disappeared, and their seats were gone too. I was supposed to be sixth from the front, but suddenly I was in the middle. The businessman sitting behind me saw me panicking and started to speak.
“If you wake up, your seat disappears too. You should wake yourself up soon as well. It’ll be your turn before you know it.”
I saw blood splattered on the seventh chair behind mine. It was okay. There were six more people before me. I just had to wake up, and then hope I never had this dream again.
We approached the next station.
Something disastrous happened. I thought there were six more people until my turn, but at the next station, five of them were skewered to death at once. Next was the businessman behind me, but he started to speak to me calmly through the chair.
“I don’t need to wake up anymore. My company’s going through a restructuring, and my wife, well…”
Trembling, I woke up while he was still talking.
I was drenched in sweat. The dream was so long, but when I looked at the clock, only 20 minutes had passed. That Monkey Dream… its impact was so large that it probably caused me to have that dream. That story itself is a straight ticket to the train. At any rate, I never want to have that dream again… Honestly, I was so scared that I thought I would have a heart attack and die…