Last night, I had a fantastic dream about a zombie apocalypse where I was with a group of people defending ourselves from them. We eventually seek shelter in an unoccupied old yet sturdy house, something akin to 'Traditional European' if you must.
We devised plans using whatever we can find in the house to make forts, weapons or any other defence materials we can possibly think of. The zombies were fast approaching by this stage and we separated into two groups barricading ourselves into two separate small rooms.
Funnily enough the people I was with either weren't too bright or were just too relaxed. I remembered one (who seemed to be the mother) knitting and the boy sitting down playing with something on the floor. I quickly grabbed (possibly) a wooden bucket and proceeded to lock myself in a tiny compartment at the edge of the room secured with a thick wooden door.
Not soon after there were noises outside and then came a decaying strong hand breaking through the door of the place where I hid and pulled me. The last thing I remembered was uttering the following word to myself as I succumb to darkness: "Drat".
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