You might not find this dream particularly scary, but while I was dreaming it, I was shitting bricks.
I was at a beach party with a bunch of my friends, and we were all having a great time. Then I noticed that some of my friends were busting out with some crazy gymnastics, doing flying somersaults and backflips in the sand. Then I noticed that they were using some of my clothes as a landing pad. For some reason this really hurt my feelings, so I barged toward them, spotted one of their towels, went for the flying somersault, and couldn't pull it off. I face-planted pretty hard. The worst part was, I saw it coming, so I exaggerated it, because I thought everyone would think it was funny. So everyone ended up laughing at me, and even though that's what I expected, it still managed to hurt my feelings.
So I was all salty because everyone laughed at me, and I decided to go wash my clothes right away. Dreams never seem to make sense, and this is no exception. My next move was to go into "the old house" that we happend to be staying at, which also happend to be right on the beach, and of course, it looked like a giant scary haunted house.
You could enter the ground floor of the house right off of the beach. This ground floor was kind of like the basement, so I had to go up some stairs in order to get to the washer and dryer. It was sort of a maze, and I was getting lost, but I had a friend with me, so we just kept going.
The scary part to me was that as I was climbing the stairs, I suddenly realized that the clothes I had been carying all along were gone. Just gone. They weren't in my hands, or on the floor, or anywhere. I looked around, and at this point I knew there was something terrible in that house. I looked at my friend and asked "what the hell happend to my clothes." He staired at me blankly, like a deer stairing into the headlights of an oncoming car. He knew, and I knew, that we were in trouble. So I started running down the stairs, as fast as I could, just hoping that I had dropped them and not noticed. That, of course, was absurd, because I was carrying a huge pile of clothes, the kind of pile you have to balance by pressing your chin on top of it while you support it from below.
As I was running down the stairs, two of our friends showed up. I asked them "did you see my clothes?" Of course they were completely confused by the question, and were sure that they hadn't seen any clothes on the way up the stairs. At that point, I noticed that even though we had climbed several flights of stairs, I could see out of a window that showed a courtyard, and people playing frisbee. This side of the building was level with the ground, so the house is probably built up against a hill. At least, that was how I explained it to myself.
Still scared, I decided that we should just get out of this house as fast as possible, so I headed for the window. To the left of the window was a long hallway, and as I went to open the window, a noise coming from the back of that hallway began getting louder and louder. I looked down that hallway, and I saw a face. This was the the face of the most frightened man in the world. Pale white, and frozen with fear. The man was running my way as fast as he could, and I didn't want to stick around to find out what he was running from. I turned, back towards the stairs, but the scared man blew by me, and made it up the stairs before I could. So I jumped over the railing, hoping IT wouldn't see me and would instead continue up the stairs after the running man.
But IT didn't. As I jumped over the rail, I held on, and I could only see the running man, who had stopped, and turned around to face IT. IT was devoring my friends, who I had left at the bottom of the stairs when I jumped over the rail. I experienced it through the eyes of the running man as he watched in horror, and through the terrible crunching sounds that it made as it tore my friends apart.
