Dream, August 4, 2018.
I was walking a street in the little town of Monroe, Oregon. (I had some pretty fun summers there as a kid. Kind of a Tom Sawyer like existence and my grandfather owned the local pool hall/tavern. I had lots of fun playing in the pool hall, eating candy, bags of Planters Peanuts and drinking pop. I haven't revisited the town as an adult, so my brain will at times, fashion a dream so that I can at least visit it that way. And that's good because my Monroe dreams tend to be lucid in nature.) I say Monroe street but it appeared slightly off, not quite one of the streets that I remembered as a kid.
A man approached me and, while I didn't know his name, I had the distinct impression that he was a retired doctor, and a good friend of mine. He told me about 'a horror' in one of the older houses in town. Would I like to investigate it with him? Of course!
My doctor friend knew the person living in the house. Oddly enough, another retired doctor. We walked inside and looked around. Everything looked pretty normal. I certainly didn't see anything that was horrible. Suddenly, the man whose house we were in went ballistic and he let loose with a torrent of black magic spells. He must have been quite the wizard because some horrific monster faces appeared out of thin air and they attacked my friend. He was literally bit and torn to pieces. Some wild, demonic goats appeared and they came after me. I ran out of the house and was happy to see that the goats didn't follow. It was at that point in the dream where I remembered that I myself was a wizard, so I held my arms out and placed an imprisoning spell over the entire house. I guess it was supposed to keep all of the evil from coming outside.