I was playing a kind of tag with a lot of people on these dark, cobblestone streets. It seemed to be a closed arena. The person who was “it” was one of my media professors, armed with a wooden machete she called Nonfiction. If she hit you with it, you became a zombie, and then you had to tag other people and make them zombies too.

This wasn’t in a game sense — people were actually hypnotized. Every time you became a zombie you had a random nonsense phrase and that was the only thing you could say, over and over again. I kept like breaking free of the zombie spell and then having to pretend I was a zombie so I could grab my mom and brother and escape.

She caught me more than once pretending to be a zombie though and had to murder me so I would reset back into a “real” zombie.

Then she started making tag-team zombies, where zombies were attached and had to cooperate with each other. This was not great good because nobody else was breaking out of the zombie spell
Zombie tag teams could comprise more than two, even, so there was a whole Whoville-looking bicycle of zombies that kept getting grandfathered into successive rounds.

I got kind of frustrated at how impossible this game was to win, so I made myself invisible and also a snake, so no one could catch me. That worked out pretty well. I started going out of bounds, including into this random elevator.

My prof said “Get out of that elevator, that’s not allowed!”

I was like 👀 “lol bye”