Night froth

Th past two night have been wracked with a series of sweat inducing nightmares.
I'd wake up caked in perspiration, hair matted on one side, nightshirt clinging to my bosom because I'd sweated bullets not because it was hot but because I saw something so horrendous that my every pore decided to weep.
Last night's dream was a catastrophe and so vigorously violent was it that my mind faded it but somewhere there was an abattoir run by necromancers where everyone industriously butchered bodies.
There were heads rolling about on nearby tables, gutted stomachs with someone hovering atop, torn off arms lining shelves and a whole room filled with horrors of mutilated corpses.
The efficacious team of men and women slicing about these bodies were relentless in their jobs and I could get a birds eye view as if I were mounted on a drone.

Someone was chasing me and my only route to escape was through a narrow tunnel which was obnoxiously long and wet and I had to crawl through it with enough speed to exit but it was so small I could hardly breathe what with water flowing in my direction and me needing to keep my head above it and keep crawling for god knows how long because I wasn't even sure that it would end.
The discomfort in that airless and oppressive bottleneck situation where I was almost squeezing myself every inch was so unbearable that I woke up to a sweat laden body thrashing about under a blanket.

I slept again and dreamt something as horrible.
Two nights it's been happening and now I feel like my nights were so much better when I dreamt nothing at all.