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Dreams minati

Found 143 dreams containing minati - Page 2


Explore a collection of the latest dreams shared by our community. Discover common themes, intriguing narratives, and unique symbolism. From vivid adventures to thought-provoking scenarios, these recent dreams offer a glimpse into the subconscious mind and may even spark insights into your own dream world. Browse the "Latest Dreams" to find inspiration, connect with others, and delve deeper into the fascinating realm of dreams.

On the first day, I'm walking along narrow path. I come to pass a Mosque where an Imam startles me. He intercepts me, placing his hand on my left shoulder. He impales my shoulder joint with his Tallon and gestures to the Qur'an he is holding. He asks me with hostility: "would you like to hear it in English or Arabic?" To which I answer: "neither" as I free myself from his grip and continue walking briskly. I sense that my audacity has angered him. I look back to gauge my safety and I see the Imam colluding with another person, talking secretly and pointing me out. This other person seems to take instruction and proceeds to follow me. I periodically look back to stay ahead and the person has morphed into the dress of a Catholic priest while having gained some ground on me. I look again and now he is a Presbyterian minister and stalking me like prey. Next glance he is Rabbi and chasing me. Every time I look back the person adorned a different religious attire, many of which were familiar from various Christian denominations I would ordinarily feel comfortable and friendly towards. I manage to stay ahead of the pursuing adversary.

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The first part of my dream went like this. I was a sheriff's deputy driving on a dirt road when suddenly I stopped at a train yard, just outside the main entrance of it which was closed off by a wire gate. To my right were three sandstone pillars with small squares set into them. When I looked at them four chuckles appeared inside the circles as if some invisible hand was drawing them. Out of nowhere a car I recognized but couldn't remember where it was from blasted through the gate and hit a red train car from the side. I don't know why but I got this extremely hostile feeling and I drove up and rammed the other car from behind, trapping the driver there. A few moments of us playing reverse tug of war and suddenly the train car tips over and completely crushes the other car, a pool of blood appearing beneath the driver side. There was a small window near the top of the train car where many people's hands were trying to reach out. Their hands were gray and dirty in color. The very next thing I remember was now I was a German Shepherd with an injured front leg. The only reason I know that is because as the German Shepard half of my experience was in third person and the other half was first person. My experience as a cop was all first person. Anyway, three really dirty, gray skinned men show up. Im still in the train yard, just inside of some sort of two story warehouse. The outside was made out of some rusting sheet metal while the inside rooms and floors were made out of what looked like fresh plywood. The three men are pushing and shoving their way up some stairs frantically, and I follow them with my injured leg. They mention something about staying in the light or "they'll" get you, so I decided to take that advice to heart even though they weren't even talking to me. There were small lit candles just up the stairs that surprisingly illuminated about a meter's worth of space very brightly. The three men disappeared or simply went out of sight while I went towards the candles. By now I'm in one corner of the warehouse. To my right I'm looking inwards towards an empty room with a candle that's illuminating it entirely and I suddenly feel freezing cold. I bolt into that room as fast as I can and huddle into a corner. Just as I turn back around I see a long, scrawny hand and arm laying just outside my room, followed by a huge, dense cloud of fog. I'm in a third person view right now, and can see hundreds of similar hands, each with long needle like claws protruding from the finger tips. I start panicking and then I wake up.

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On the first day, I'm walking along narrow path and I come to pass a Mosque where an Imam startles me. He intercepts me, placing his hand on my left shoulder. He impales my shoulder joint with his Tallon and gestures to the Qur'an he is holding. He asks me with hostility: "would you like to hear it in English or Arabic?" To which I answer: "neither" as I free myself from his grip and continue walking briskly. I sense that my audacity has angered him. I look back to gauge my safety and I see the Imam colluding with another person, talking secretly and pointing me out. This other person seems to take instruction and proceeds to follow me. I periodically look back to stay ahead and the person has morphed into the dress of a Catholic priest while having gained some ground on me. I look again and now he is a Presbyterian minister and stalking me like prey. Next glance he is Rabbi and chasing me. Every time I look back the person adorned a different religious attire, many of which were familiar from various Christian denominations I would ordinarily feel comfortable and friendly towards. I manage to stay ahead of the pursuing adversary. The next day I am walking along the same path and approaching the Mosque. I notice that the Mosque looks more like a cathedral and there are no distinguishable features that tell me it is a mosque, however there is no doubt in my mind that it is a Mosque. I become weary that I am nearly at the spot where the Imam cornered me the day earlier, so I look ahead and walk to the edge of the path in hopes to avoid him. Out of nowhere, he intercepts me and impales between my bones with his claw once again. "English or Arabic?" He hisses, as he begins pulling me towards the mosque. "Neither!" I say, as I painfully rip my flesh to get free. Again I briskly walk and am pursued by a shapeshifter. The third and final day I am walking along the narrow path. I have come to expect confrontation as a permanent obstacle. I consider crossing the road to avoid the ordeal, which would be out of my way and slow me down. Then I think to myself "why should I". Why should I make an alteration to my life and routine for such evil? Instead I march fearlessly towards the usual spot. Sure enough, he jumps out hoping to scare me, but I was expecting him. But before he can insert his claw, like a true martyr I offer my shoulder to him with arrogance and willingness to suffer the pain. This robbes him of much satisfaction as latches on. "Which will it be, English or Arabic?" He asks with malice. I look straight into his black eyes and calmly say "of that book I will hear neither, nor any other tongue".

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