I am in some sort of school building. There are a lot of people my age around me. I think it is a party, everyone is socializing, and I end up meeting a couple people and see some friends. The only person I clearly remember is named Lee, an Asian man about my age.
The next thing I remember, I am laying in bed, Lee is sitting on the edge of the bed, affixing some sort of clamp around my left arm. Looking at it from the side, the clamp looks like an oval with tapered edges. From the top, it looks rectangular. The surface has some sort of engraving on it, possibly glyphs; it is definitely not smooth.
On the inside of the clamp are teeth of sorts, it is a puncturing device. As he closes it around my left arm, I feel the teeth make contact with my skin. He then quickly presses down on the clamp, the teeth enter my skin. I feel some pain, but there is another feeling that I cannot quite describe, it may have been pure horror, yet something else felt good and I’m not sure what. I watch as blood pours from the device, it spills onto the sheets. I feel the blood leave my body and flow against my skin. Something digs deep into the inside of my forearm. I lay there for quite a while, feeling the metal teeth in my arms, the blood continuing to flow. I eventually fall asleep in the dream.
I wake up, the clamp now gone from my arm, I raise my arm to look at it. There is no blood, but the damage to my skin is extensive. The top of my arm is riddled with small puncture wounds. The wounds are burgundy from congealed blood. The bottom of my arm is more horrific. In the middle of the inside of my forearm, there is a large square of skin missing about 3 inches long and 2 inches across. The skin around the rectangle wound is cut away from the underlying flesh, it hangs in a sickly fashion. The skin all the way up to the joint between my wrist and hand is separated from the flesh. I gaze into the wound and observe the muscle of my forearm, the flesh is dark red like it is dying. Closer to my hand, there is a circular wound. I put my right hand under the separated flesh of my forearm and poke my finger up through the wound. I feel pain, more blood flows. I get up and begin to walk around. Everything feels ghostly, white and pale, like I am dying. I fall asleep again.
I wake up again, in a very lucid way. I crane my neck around to my alarm clock, it is 7:54. I lay back down and look at my arm, expecting it to be normal. It is not. Most of the holes in my skin are plugged with small corks. I notice a new wound in my hand in the flesh connecting my thumb to my hand. There is a cork running from one side of the flesh to the other. I move my thumb and feel the cork impeding movement. I try to move the new cork, the side toward the palm of my hand falls beneath the skin, and blood flows. I put it back in place and feel a great deal of pain. I then notice the telltale signs of blood poisoning on my arm. Large red streaks run from my hand, half-way up my forearm. I feel panicked, take out a cellphone (a touch screen which has pictures next to the names in the contacts, I do not have this phone in real life) and call Lee. Before the phone rings, I wake up. I expect to see a mangled, poisoned, dying arm, and see that I am fine. I am relieved.