Dreams of the Other Plane

In several Ebrugh Reports, strange dreams are described or alluded to, likely connected to the Other Plane. On this page, all of them are collected, sorted by the Ebrugh Report they were encountered in.
== Ebrugh Report 5 ==
In Report 5, a sequence is described where the dream reported there shifts into an otherworldy realm:
"Slowly, as slowly as I could, I turned toward the strangeness of the forest, but it had changed. No pines behind me, no darkness veiling unknown terrors. I saw a clearing, illuminated by alien moons, glittering ominously. Vines and bright blossoms sprawled on wet ground, weaving a pattern of strange sharp shapes. A feeling of stench and harmony took hold of me.
How had I gotten here?
I quickly looked over my shoulder, but the mansion had disappeared as well. Only trees and shadows could be seen there, wrapped in mischievous undergrowth. But as much as I feared the forest, it was nothing compared to what I felt looking back at the clearing. It seemed to be changing, slowly slipping into a distant world I didn't want to understand.
And there, in the distance, I caught sight of movement.
I was no longer alone.
But this thought did not comfort me, this thought only made everything worse. I had to seek shelter, shelter from what was writhing there.
Into the forest, into the darkness behind me, where I remained unseen! I spun around, but the trees had disappeared.
Behind me, muddy, watery ground stretched endlessly, distant to a horizon framed by great tower-like structures. At my feet, the tendril-like plants still twined, but I was no longer sure whether they were artificial or of natural origin. But one thing I knew - I would find no protection here.
Hectically, I looked around to the clearing, which had not changed. There were still the angular flowers, which shimmered in billions of colors, the rivulets of black water, which made their way to the eternal plain behind me.
But there had now appeared unholy stone structures that looked like a sacrificial site of ancient shamans, arranged in a ring in the middle of the ghostly clearing. I knew something was waiting there, something was lurking, but the stones held an insane fascination for me as well.
Charlotte, I don't know why, but I went there! I went to the stones, to the circle of terrors, even though I knew that that place was evil. That distant spirits clung to it and would poison my mind. That there was something peering, waiting like a predator for its prey.
Slowly I moved forward, while fear slowed my steps more and more. What was I doing? Why was I walking? What was pulling me onwards? I had almost arrived at that demonic circle when I heard something from beyond the trees in front of me.
There were clacking sounds, uneven and far from any form of rhythm. These strange sounds felt hauntingly familiar, but I did not know from where exactly they came. They tore me from the strange spell and allowed me to get myself away from the stones."
== Ebrugh Report 6 ==
Yapnik reports that in his dreams he heard strange voices whispering ancient truths.
== Ebrugh Report 8 ==
In Report 8, a passage of a dream diary is illustrating a strange vision: 
"I am walking through the town centre, passing clothing stores and the bookshop of Allen’s. It is unfamiliarly quiet, and no people are around anywhere. 
The sun shines down its yellow-green light and some black pigeons are looking for things to eat on the paved street, threateningly cooing. When I reach the park, only dead trees are rotting on the ground, framed by brown grass. On a bench I find a newspaper. I decide to take it and read it. There is a picture on the frontpage, a picture of foreign ruins. 
I am at the ruins. I see men in the distance, strangely moving on a straight path to their unknown goals, emitting danger. I can not see their faces, but I think that is for the best. I turn around, look at an ocean and hear strange winds wheezing. Another black pidgeon appears. Its feathers are covered by a crimson fluid and it is menacingly cooing at me. 
I turn around and see the strange men, floating, moving towards the pidgeon, menacingly, as I slowly fade into another dream. 
I am in an old corridor, see darkness emerge in the distance. Finally, I realise that I am dreaming. I look at the corridor and tell it to disappear. Slowly it melts into the ground, becoming one with it. 
I turn around and call for my dream spirit, exactly as I had read in the tome… I am standing on a grassy field, verdant green. There is a man beside me. A cloak is covering his whole body and he is wearing a felt hat on top of his head. "Are you my dream spirit?" I ask the man. "Exactly. I am your dream spirit..." he answers, gurgling."
== Ebrugh Report 10 ==
The KGB agent speaks of horrid dreams during his expedition.
== Ebrugh Report 11 ==
People who look at the paintings are sometimes dreaming about them in a vivid manner.
== Ebrugh Report 15 ==
Uspenskaya dreams of strange other lives:
(1) There he stood before me, my friend, nodding knowingly at me and gesturing for me to follow him, deep into the forest. I hurriedly ran after him, stumbling through the undergrowth. A cold wind swept through and leaves danced between the trees, steadily increasing in speed. I saw him running in the distance, further and further away, until I had lost him, until I had lost myself, hopelessly lost. Where was the way out? How could I get back home? I was alone. Alone in the darkness.
(2) The poppy fields always had a calming effect on me. Countless flowers stretching to the horizon, resembling a red sea of bliss. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. My older sister and I had spent long afternoons in that sea of flowers that summer. The sun made the poppies look like an infinite sea of fire, blazing over the vast hills.
"I wish this could last forever," I heard my sister say.
She sat there peacefully in her bright yellow dress and fashionable hat, which was meant to protect her from sunburn.
"So do I," I agreed.
Both of us were afraid of the future, but here our thoughts could fly. No people around to distract us. No machines, which spread their metallic sounds over the land to remind us of our technological progress. Only nature and the flowers. Only the red poppies.
In those past days, peace rested in our hearts. How protected and secure we had felt back then...
(3) I had sensed it. I had felt it deep inside me. On that day, the poppies looked dull, the sky threatening, and the sun small and insignificant. As if it had decided to withdraw from our world, to turn away from what was to come. As if it already knew that everything would change and that suffering and pain were lurking, waiting for us.
My sister didn't come with me that day, but another friend accompanied me... or was it a neighbour? Everything seemed blurry, strange, and looming. The red sea of flowers was no longer a place where I wanted to be, and at times, it felt like I was sitting in a pond of blood that threatened to swallow me. My companion didn't seem to notice much.
"A wonderful sky, isn't it?" was all I could hear dimly before I let myself fall back into the flowers.
With my eyes fixed on the blue emptiness above me, I lay there shivering.
I imagined smelling unpleasant smells, sulfur, vinegar, gasoline...
Restlessly, I held my breath.
It had grown cold, bitterly cold. Was I shivering because of that? Was I just imagining the cold? Wasn't there a bloody red in the sky? Weren't there pus-yellow clouds gnawing at the heights above me? No, there was only a calming blue. Only the wonderful, gentle blue...
(4) The time when Anya started to visit me more often was the most wonderful of my life. We met during my training. She was a baker's assistant and brought baked goods and cakes every morning, so we could go to our stations fully stuffed. Never before had I seen such a delicate girl, graceful, beautiful, always with a warm smile of kindness on her lips. Every time she entered the room, all worries disappeared, all fatigue, all stress. Her hazel eyes seemed to radiate ancient tranquility and turned every moment into a fairy tale.
Countless times passed where I just sat there at one of the shabby tables and waited. Not like the others for the food, no, for her enchanting presence. For most of the other people, Anya was just the little baker girl, but I always knew she was something special. When she started winking at me every morning, first shyly like a deer, then more invitingly, I knew Anya was made for me. We never had a chance to talk - we didn't have time - but I was sure that we were inseparably connected to each other.
(5) The girl was a stranger and ugly, a bit fat and rough. When I saw her come in through the door, with her basket of pastries under her arm, which she then began to distribute carelessly, I became very afraid.
"Where is the other one?" I asked.
I had followed her when she left the dining room, full of fear.
Was Anya gone? Had she contracted an illness? Had she moved away? Been promoted?
The girl gave me a disdainful look.
Anya's mother had become very ill and was dying. The good girl wanted to be with her for the last time.
With great effort, I got Anya's address from her. After reporting sick to my trainer, I immediately set out to visit Anya.
I didn't know what to say, how to start, how to behave to avoid being intrusive, but my heart drove me to proceed.
When I arrived at my destination, I found Anya sitting on the steps in front of her small, shabby home. Her face buried in her hands, her knees bent, as she sobbed incessantly. Somehow, I knew what had just happened.
I had not yet fully reached her when she looked up and looked me directly in the eye. Despite the usual warmth that undoubtedly still shimmered in her gaze, I could feel the icy cold that held her mind in an iron grip. That clouded her world and made her doubt the goodness of life. I just stood there, looking at her, not knowing what to do.
After all, I didn't really know her.
Suddenly, Anya jumped up, ran towards me, and fell into my arms. I held her tight, never to let her go, the greatest treasure I had ever found.
We often still talked about those moments, our first moments alone. Anya never grew tired of stressing that I had felt to her like the only light in the suddenly breaking darkness, a face that had always given her positive feelings, and reminded her that there was joy in addition to sadness and pain.
(6) Something was different that evening. Something was wrong and abnormal, I felt it immediately. Her gaze was distant, her hair uncombed. We sat on the small balcony attached to her tiny apartment, drinking wine and eating sweet pastries. Despite the cool air of the fading day, she was sweating. It was not often that salty drops adorned her forehead, but her eyebrows were soaked with them, glistening in the evening sun.
The evening sun.
Something was wrong with it too.
It seemed larger than usual, but not in the way it sometimes does. Its diameter seemed almost ten times what one could usually observe. The blood-red heat it emanated, which soon made me sweat too, felt terrible on my skin, as if cancerous growths were already beginning to break through to the surface of my irradiated body. Pulsing like a gigantic heart of death, the… sun… stood just above the horizon. I heard Anya gasp. She tried to get up and stagger around our small table towards me when she stopped.
Her usually beautiful eyes widened, and her mouth opened in a piercing scream that never reached my ears. Because just as her throat was preparing to utter the sounds, her jaw fell to the ground, melting and reeking, while the rest of her lovely face began to liquefy. As her eyeballs evaporated and her lifeless sockets continued to look at me for a fraction of a millisecond, the evening became brighter than a thousand days, and blinding light tore me away.
(7) Sulfur, burning air, the screams as my brothers died. I was there with them, in the trenches. In the caves. The enemy had come so fast and silently. Without warning, they attacked and began to exterminate us mercilessly. It was so real. So close. The sky, the ground, the water, everything burned in an infernal stream of destruction. Everywhere a mad red and suffocating fog. The popping and roaring of the weapons made me tremble. The echoes of my dying brothers reverberated in my head as I tried to hide in a small crevice. Maybe they wouldn't find me here?
A few meters away from me, I saw Dmitri, my best friend from childhood, lying in the trench about ten meters away from me. His weapon fired incessantly, the bluish muzzle fire tearing through the mist, and his gaze was filled with not only fear but also defiance and anger. He shouted orders and some other nearby soldiers ran into the fog towards the enemy. Their screams as they died unseen made me fall shake violently. The smell of sulfur became increasingly pungent and with horror, I could see Dmitri standing up and also jumping out of the trench, covered in dirt, earth, and mud, with entrails and blood sticking to his uniform. The smoke from the weapons and the haze around us now flooded over us like a tsunami. I heard Dmitri's battle cry, his voice firm.
His fading silhouette looked heroic as he rushed forward...
Out of nowhere, they were there. I couldn't really see them, but I sensed them. Those dirty monsters! Why did they come? What had we done to them? In the air, Dmitri's screams echoed, piercing me deeper than any blade could. They got him. I almost believed I could see Dmitri's arms and legs being ripped from him, as they dragged him away and he disappeared forever. I didn't want to live anymore, I wanted to perish too. I wanted to die here in these trenches among my friends, my brothers. And then they came and...
(8) I saw them on the horizon. The enemies. I crouched on the ground as they approached. The thundering of the weapons was deafening. The grenades kept landing closer and closer to our little protective hole, sending rocks and foul smells into the air. The bombs created scars everywhere in the ground.
Everywhere.
Destroying everything.
The sky was bright, bright everywhere...
Annihilation, total destruction.
They won. They won effortlessly.
I burned, inside and out. My family, my friends, just fading memories. My world covered in a flaming death that drove us towards annihilation. My body died, crippled by sulfur and radiation. Only red and yellow and the end. Only pain.
I couldn't scream, couldn't move. Was this the future? Diving into nothingness until time itself eventually ended? They stood on the horizon. I couldn't see them through the smoke, but I felt them. Those abhorrent creatures who had taken everything from me. From us. But we would endure. For millennia.