What are voice dreams about?

Hello all!
About 2 weeks ago I had a very existential lucid nightmare that I can’t get out of my head. It’s to the point where it has been effecting my waking life. I need some outside help making sense of what it could mean.

For context, I have existential issues involving what my purpose in life is or even if I am supposed to exist at all.

So it began in a sort of black void with a warm colored aurora in the sky. Directly in front of me there is a hooded man with his left eye missing that looks like an older grizzled version of me. Same look, voice, eye color, scar on our upper lip, everything. He is looking into a circular stone fountain looking thing with a bonfire positioned on a raised platform in the middle.

Around him in every direction as far as I could see were hundreds of thousands of gravestones. All of them had a vague “endings” written on them. (For example, “The Swiss Ending”, “The Atomic Ending”, “The Fantastical Ending”, etc.) Some were filled in while most had empty holes in front of them.

I approached the man in the middle and politely asked who he is and where I was. He simply responded with this,
“You know where we are, this is where we all go to die. Now find your grave, I’ll help you out when you get there.”
I responded with,
“My apologies, pal, I’m not dead yet. Who did you say you were again?”
“Does it matter? We’re all the same here anyway.”
That is when it occurred to me. All these graves were for different versions of me. From different realities or universes I don’t know. I was fairly certain I wasn’t dead and this was all just a bad dream so I decided to explore and possibly see which gravestone in this labyrinthine graveyard was mine.

As I walked, I started to feel a tug from my chest, like my heart was being pulled in a certain direction. I followed the pull for what seemed like ages. Eventually the graves just stopped except for this one gravestone sitting alone just outside of where the rest of them lay. As I approached my soul felt like it was it was sitting next to a cozy fireplace, so I had the feeling that this grave was mine.

I eventually got close enough to read it had it not been for the dust and debris that covered it. It looked old and dilapidated yet it still had an open plot in front of it. I brushed off the dirt covering the gravestone and what I read chilled me to my soul.
“The Bad Ending”

The old man came from beside me.
“What an unfortunate soul this one. Feel real bad for him, you know?”
“I think that’s me.”
“What? No, it couldn’t, he’s not-“
He looked at me, his face grew grim.
“Oh shit, you’re not supposed to be here yet!”
He then grabbed my face and I felt my brain shock like it had just been struck by Thor himself.

Then I woke up. Sweating, crying, and white-knuckled. It’s absolutely fucked with my mind ever since.

Okay I literally just woke up and i’m panicking. I can give more details later if i remember but right now i’m a little unnerved. Someone please tell me if this has meaning.

There was a body in the front seat of my car and my partner and i got out to call the cops. Instead of cops showing up, a sports car with 4 men showed up and when i told them what happened they ran into the house only to die. Another police drove by and i flagged them down but they parked in my neighbors across the streets driveway and the old cop and the car turned into my neighbor and i was helpless. My partner and i walked back across the street to my house and i suggested maybe i could only see the things happening because i was schizophrenic when a middle aged lady with a cigarette said “but i can see you guys” and ran into my house. I chased her demanding answers and she said “they’re most prevalent in may” and disappeared and i kept screaming “you’re not welcome here” until my voice become not my own. i went back out to my car and there were more dead bodies in my car and a little girl on top of my car with bruises. i noticed my partner in the front passenger seat and they had puncture wounds everywhere. the little girl had a hammer and said she had to kill my partner and kept hitting my partners skull with it. i had to kill the little girl by using a pickaxe and swinging into her brain. Then i got the feeling the cops were going to frame me for every murder and woke up.

Two days ago, at around 5am, I was dreaming some sort of dream until I was slightly awaken by a voice calling my name--it was my sister's!

I almost jump out of my bed after hearing her voice calling from outside the house like she wanted to come in. But I made some logical thinking while my eyes were close that it is impossible that it was my sister as she was miles away from where I live. So, I made the conclusion that it was only some sort of a dream.

Then I heard her calling me again, this time longer.

I remember that some spirits call out for help if they are in the midst of danger so I tried to wake myself up and rang my sister's phone.

She answered on the other end, croaky, sounding like she was awaken by my call. I asked her how she was as I heard her voice calling my name.

She then told me that she was dreaming that she went to the mountains with me, we were joined by some people. As we go along, she got stuck to a bunch of trees and was paralyzed. She was looking around but couldn't find me or anyone we were with.

Suddenly, she felt some commotion behind her and was frightened by the sensation. So, she started calling my name.

She was able to escape from that dream by the sound of the phone ringing---it was when I called her.

It was a room. Empty. Black, bit with white lines. As if you colored the lineart of the walls white. There were no lights but there was a faint glow, just enough for me to clearly see. There was...something in the corner of the room. Crying, muttering to itself, drawing on the walls with what I thought was a red marker. But as I inched closer, I realized its fingertips were cut off. And it was drawing with its blood. The blood was bright, not like normal blood. It was like, neon red. Very strange.

I don't exactly remember what it was drawing but it was drawing the same symbol over and over again. It was whimpering to itself. My brain automatically went "Help it, it's hurt" So I put a hand on its shoulder. It didn't even jump or get startled. It just stopped everything. It lowered its hand from the wall and slowly turned its head to face me. It had strange features. It was tall, skinny. But it still had like, basic human anatomy. It had a nose, lips, a chest, muscle definition (of whatever muscle it had) It was just a completely black skinny human, but with crazy eyes that were completely white. And they were...scribbly. Like if you took a white pen and angrily scribbled a circle on black paper.

It stared at me for a second, before saying in a raspy, pained voice. " You're like my art in a lot of ways." It moved closer to me. I smiled slightly, " How so?" Its hand curled around my neck, but not choking me, as it leaned into my ear and whispered, " You were created. You have blood. And..." It leaned in with its hands still around my neck, its lips almost brushing against mine, " I can rip you up whenever I wish."

With that last word, it dug its fingers into my neck. Literally. Its fingers went through my neck, piercing the flesh. I choked a little bit. Then like a movie, it cut to a different scene. Back to it drawing on the walls. Then it cut again to it curled into a ball, sobbing, whimpering, muttering. Then I woke up with the horniness of a thousand 13-year-old boys. Which was hella confusing. So like, what the fuck?

⚠️Warning: this may freak you out, so just prepare yourself if you are one to be scared easily. ⚠️

My nightmare was set up in the country. Not much people, not much drama. I was kidnapped and taken to this house where there was nothing but grass for miles. No trees, or animals, or anything. Just grass. With a decently small house plopped mid-center. When I was walked into the house, there was an around 30 year old male in the dining room, praying. But it wasn’t like a normal pray like you would imagine it to be. He was praying to the people that had died in that house. He was afraid they might do something to him “again.” The dining room was to the left. The bathroom was no more than four feet in front of the front entrance. And the living room was to the right. Very small, comfy, country house-like building. There was also a women in the living room just relaxing on the couch. She was staring at the tv, of course my dream wasn’t that detailed so I don’t know what was on, but I know she was watching it. The kidnappers sat me down on the couch next to her. I didn’t say anything, I didn’t do anything. I just sat there, watching the tv with her. It was one of those houses where you could just *feel* the spirits that were haunting it. It was terrible. Anyways, then, I had to use the restroom. It was incredibly small. You took one step in and to the right was the toilet and left was the sink. That’s it. You had room to stand between the two and nothing more. There were mirrors above both the toilet and the sink. So, I did what I need to do and sat down. I had my palms against my forehead. And suddenly *EVERYTHING* turns absolutely pitch black. Silent and I could feel the pounding of my heart in the dream and in real life. Blood is not dripping from every crack and corner of the ceiling. It was gory as crap. Then, pale arms and hands with the brightest red nail polish I’ve ever seen start to grasp my knees. I hear “You’ll find us where you least expect it” in a whispering, faint, women’s voice. No one was talking to me, I didn’t see any faces; it was as if there were a speaker in the bathroom. Then, I woke up. I immediately went to the bathroom. Somehow wasn’t freaked out by that, but I could NOT look into the mirror. I poured my eyes out. It was, jeez. Don’t have a word for that.

Thank you for reading. Feel free to share any alike experiences :)