Sounds like a Terry Nation Doctor Who story title, I know, but this is what came to mind when I woke up in the middle of the night. Aliens had invaded my immediate world, which consisted of a short train trip: they appeared, in the form of an electrically-charged gaseous cloud, in a car further up and made their way towards us. Somehow I managed to survive the experience, but was forced to relive it—luckily, however, I was placed at the station ahead of the attack and felt safe as long as I could last the next ten or so minutes. But strange rolling creatures littered the landscape, moving in repetitive patterns that resembled traditional videogame obstacles. They were easy enough to avoid, but my body wasn’t responding, as if unnatural weight were placed on my shoulders. I doubled back, but in my strain to move I became careless and didn’t notice that there was a second familiar character in my view, a fake that grabbed me when I got close. The thing held me tightly around the torso from behind like the Japanese ex-girlfriend in Shutter and squeezed, and this pain remained even after I opened my eyes. It was then I imagined how they might continue to torture us in our dreams (not too original an idea, as all the Freddy Krueger movies will attest), and actually worried about falling asleep again.
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