I was in a huge house. It was a modern, American house, with a vast drive and patio doors. I was sitting in the living room, talking to a middle aged man I didn't recognise about how I met the owner of the house. The owner, who wasn't there, was an amateur film-maker who I'd met briefly when I was helping him escape from a particularly scary catfish. She had faked her identity and moved into his house.
(I'm starting to forget bits already)
There was a sequence when he was escaping, running down a mountain. This flashback as I was describing it played like the low budget movie he'd made. He was being pursued by people, and there was a bit where he'd laid traps for them. As they failed to work out math questions or understand how to get past the traps, they fell apart into blocks as if they weren't real.
As I told the tale of his escape, the door opened and loads of people came in lead by the film-maker I recognised. He'd arrived in a trailer that was so big it had to be carried on the back of an 18-wheeler that seemed impossibly huge. The drive was still big enough for it.
The film-maker, we'll call him Dennis, said hi and said he was glad I could make it, then went off to sort something.
I remember looking over in the corner of the room, getting up from the sofa and getting down on my hands and knees. The carpet was sprouting things in the corner - tiny creatures were growing. I looked at my left forearm and there were dozens of little black worms spiralling up through the skin. I brushed them off, and they fell out of the holes in my arm, tumbling to the floor where they joined the other creatures, growing into tiny soldiers, tigers, and bugs.
The worms kept sprouting from my arm. Dennis came back down and started zooming in with a small handheld camera to film what was happening. I asked how I could stop them, and he suggested moving over to a different corner of the room and seeing if the creatures that would sprout there would form another army that would fight the original.
That's when I woke up.