dreams again

 So I don't know how this one started, all I know is that there was a squrriel in my house and my dog got it but it wouldn't shake it to death and I put it outside and then it was like one of those cartoon scenes where as soon as I closed the door and turned around, the squirrel was back in my house looking at me. So I kicked it and went downstairs (I was in some copy of my grandma's place) and looked at this rando vent that didn't exist in the actual house, and I went to place the grating back over it, and it was just like... a square piece of metal with a hole in the middle. So the border of the metal went around the vent and it just didn't have a vent covering. And I just stared at it with rage filling my mental capacity to think until this next part of the dream:

Then the scene switched to me chasing a child (which apparently was the squirrel, in my dream mind?) trying to stab it and kill it (I guess it was a him but my mind doesn't "define" it as a him) and I finally get him and I take out my box cutter that I use at work and start slashing its back, and it's weird because I'm just moving with it in perfect sync but slashing its back, and it just screams, and I do this a LOT. Like 25 times swinging my arm into its back, stabbing and rending flesh. But the flesh is only like 1 millimeter deep and it seems kind of like I'm trying to scratch metal or something? Probably because I've never stabbed anyone irl and have no wish to.

Finally it falls down and turns around on the ground and I LITERALLY cut his achilles tendons. The kid fell on its stomach and I have no fucking idea why I went for this first instead of just killing the "kid" but I just... saw through one tendon at a time until I can see they're both cut through, I can see the white of the tendon like the white of a chicken tendon (idk if that's how they actually look on a human and I don't want to know) and the kid is just screaming and after I finish cutting the tendons it (I keep typing he/his here so I guess I'll use that) he tries to move his feet but he can't and he just kicks me with his "loose" feet and screams. Oh yeah, and I have a huge smile plastered to my face the whole time this weird shit is happening.

 and some fuckin weird fat neckbeard walks up next to me and the kid finally speaks and he's like "why are you doing this?!" and the guy goes "I am [some name I forgot now], and long ago..." and that's when I realized I didn't want to hear his story and woke up. And the weird thing is as soon as I woke up I compared the kid to Drake even though it absolutely was not him in the dream because I immediately felt sorry for my actions in the dream, and the kid. Weird.

I literally got up 30 minutes early to write this and am shaking and wanna throw up. The viciousness and glee I felt during that dream were... inhuman. I never want to feel like that again. I literally don't get up early to write about dreams, I value sleep over this crap, but this was bad. Nothing like this has actually happened in my life and dear gods what the fuck I hope it doesn't ever. There goes 30 minutes of sleep...