The first dream I remember from last night is that I was reviewing some excruciatingly detailed technical documentation. It was something like a 20-page document explaining an algorithm for calculating the factorial of a number. During the dream, I had just thought of checking to see how the algorithm would handle non-integral input values, so I started to re-read portions of it to see how it would calculate the factorial of pi. This is the first time that I can recall my mind actually getting bored with its own dream, and immediately changing the dream into something else more interesting.
Suddenly I was college-aged, and in a house with about a dozen other college-aged people. Most everyone was downstairs; I was upstairs in the living room talking to a girl who seemed to think that she was my girlfriend. There was another guy in the kitchen, getting a drink or something. I got up to go do something—maybe go to the bathroom—and suddenly I heard a noise from the kitchen. I looked, and saw blood on the floor. The dishwasher had been ripped through the house's outer wall, leaving a large square hole that someone must have entered through. (Seems an overly complicated way to break into a house. Why not use a door or a window?)
Then the "girlfriend" screamed for help from the living room, and I peeked my head around the corner to assess the situation without being seen. A man was slowly advancing on the girl and the kitchen guy, who was already wounded. He was well-armed, and they didn't have a chance. Or at least that's the decision I came to. I decided not to try to save them. Instead, I crept to the trapdoor that led to the basement, hoping that the killer was not aware of my presence. (Again, why a trapdoor? Why not stairs?) When I got there, the people from downstairs had also heard the noises and were coming up to investigate. One guy and girl were in just their underwear; they had been busy down there. (There are no naked people in my dreams.) I shushed them so as to not attract the attention of the killer, who was still busy getting ready to kill the other two. I told them that we had to leave NOW, and we did, through the sliding door in back. We got the impression that we had been heard, so we ran for the cars as quickly as we could.
There were eleven of us trying to fit into two cars, which was a bit snug. I guess one of the two who were killed was our third driver. I had a man of approximately my (large) build but a foot shorter sitting on my lap in the passenger seat. This was not a well-planned exodus. It was uncomfortable. We learned at the police station that this guy had been killing dozens of people, and they hadn't been able to track him down.
That's where the dream gets a little hazy. I know that I had taken some notes on the killer's appearance, and what seemed to be his license plate number (there was a blue pickup parked in the middle of the street in front of the house we were in), and had traded those notes to the police for other notes. Then I and two other people set out on our own to do our own investigation. None of us were the drivers, so we set out by bus. I know that we got to our first destination, but I think the dream ended there. I don't remember anything else from it.