It was my first day as a cub reporter in this newspaper. I was hired because of my connections. My two friends were already working there. In the universe/logic of the dream, before the paper could print, they have to first pay the printer with their own personal money. This is why they always carry a lot of cash. One of the first things given to me was a small bag filled with a bundle of cash, supposedly advance payment for my services which I have yet to render, and spending money for when we are following a story somewhere.
The very day when I arrived and given the small bag, the Editor-in-Chief was in a hurry to the printers to pay them. He didn’t have enough cash so the staff collected valuables – cash and jewellery to give to him. Another thing that is necessary for the printing of the paper was the sacrifice of a body. It turns out this was a tedious and painful process and it was the Editor in Chief’s turn, and the lazy bastard was stalling for time. So one of the established reporters collected the valuables, and went out in place of the lazy bastard Editor in Chief.
We, the three of us friends, found her mutilated body later outside in a cement bench in a nearby plaza. It was slumped unceremoniously and covered in red occult markings. Then we went back to the office and immediately after us, the senior reporter whom we just saw dead entered. She looked exactly like before she was mutilated. She sat down on her desk and said ‘now that wasn’t too hard was it?’ before continuing with her work.
In the logic of the dream, people don’t really die. Their soul just transfers to another body which is already summoned or prepared for them. This body can be made to look exactly like the previous body.
My friends and I were assigned to follow a story together. It was a killing, and not just any killing, but a non-resurrection-type killing. We were outside of a large church, and inside there were a lot of people. Someone has just informed one of the parishioners of the killing. It turns out that the parishioner who was just informed is the aunt of the one who was killed. She broke down crying, but only for a while. She stood up, composed herself, and went out of the church. We followed her as she went out and offered her our services.
It was me who was able to quickly track down the killer. I only managed a glimpse but I knew it was the killer. It or he or she, I didn’t get a long look, vanished into a small wooden shed. The parishioner followed me, then my friends, and we scoured the place but we couldn’t find the killer. He was gone. That was then I noticed something odd. On the corner of the shed were the smoldering embers of a fire. Among the charcoal was a burnt out shell of what looked like a large spider. There were some things, small and red, wriggling inside of it. It turned out to be smaller spiders.
The parishioner approached me and picked up the shell/casing with the small spiders inside. She picked up one and swallowed it. My friends shouted for her to stop, but it was too late.
Then we were transported into this other place. It was dark and cold and had lots of big corridors. It turned out to be some sort of restaurant. The hunt for the killer continues here. The small red spider which the parishioner consumed is a gateway. By eating it, we have followed the trail of the killer. But a side effect of the gateway spider is madness and for the eater to turn into a monster. I was standing in front of the parishioner when she started changing. The right side of her face and body started to morph and bloat into a grotesque form. Her eyes went bloodshot and wide. She grew fangs and her hair became longer. My friends and I ran.
I don’t know if my friends escaped. I managed to run as far away from the monster as possible, until I reached one end of the vast restaurant. There was a free-standing utility room there, made of thick cement and had pipes snaking around and sticking out of it. It looked very secure to me. I entered and locked myself inside.