Dreaming in Digital

With a group of strangers, I walked cautiously through a grass field where there were stone angel statues dispersed widely about. Something was wrong, we knew, and we felt the creepy atmosphere with the grey sky and light fog. I turned away for a moment and realized they weren't stones at all, but the weeping angels in Doctor Who. Warning everyone not to lose them from sight, we wandered in one direction until we reached an old building, which we entered and hoped we'd be safe. The Doctor was inside already, alone without a companion, and he knew who I was. He guided us somewhere safe from the angels, who've also entered the building. It wasn't easy finding safety either, as there were also angels inside the old, decaying building.

I can't clarify which Doctor he was because I didn't look at his face, but from the navy suit, he was most likely the tenth doctor.

I can't remember my dream well anymore because I lacked the time to record it this morning, but here's the gist of what my memory can recall.

Shortbread, Cookie and I entered shop which sold art supplies. It was a dim day, or the hours were getting late as we entered. Inside resembled a small art gallery, with white walls and honey hardwood flooring, but it was also a store. I admired some paper sold in a stack when Cookie approached and spoke to me about something that I can't remember. We entered a bedroom together, at the back of the building. It looked old with white walls, which had pictures posted around the room and arranged in a polkadot pattern along the walls and floor. There were three different portraits: one was of a girl with pigtails, the next was a boy with a blue shirt, and the last was of a person with richly pigmented red skin that it was unnatural and looked almost demonic. The room creeped us out that we left the building quickly, knowing it was a terrible place to be in.

And we were right. The next I remember of the dream was the three of us running for our lives, running away from three pursuers, one of which I was certain was a witch. She was neither extremely ugly nor beautiful, but looked much like a normal woman in her early thirties. Somehow I was separated from my friends who were caught, but the witch kept in pursuit of me. I ran through a gap resembling a mouse hole in a wall of extremely tall bush hedge, and ran across the tops of lawn tables with sun umbrellas opened and barely skimming the top of my head. I was almost within her grasp when I awoke.