My Mother is Mary Pane

Started out with a strange car chase. I was just sort of floating around when I witnessed a car driving the wrong way on a short connector street between two houselined streets. Another vehicle was going the correct way, so the driver started driving in reverse. The woman in the car driving correctly began to panic a bit, because the other driver was certainly behaving in a random fashion that was vaguely threatening. Suddenly, for no apparent reason the backwards driver seemed to panic, and floored it, racing down the street and shooting out of the neighborhood into a junkyard. I followed along. The woman, and several others gathered at the yard, watching the driver as he passed out from his injuries. They all went into a shed and down many flights of dilapidated stairs until they were in a large underground chamber. As each woman entered they took a 1 inch square blue tile and placed it on a table. I was corporate now and standing next to the table. My fiancee was one of the women in the group. There were also several other men I noticed, husbands and sons it looked like. The tiles were laid out in double rows that snaked across the table. A woman handed me a bunch of markers that looked like Cheddar crackers. Most of them were square but a few were a square and a half. I was considering that. "Just use them the same, they are not different for our purpose."
The group began to chant, "My mother is Mary Pane," at the conclusion of each phrase the woman and I would each put four markers on a tile. Someone was copying out the chant near us in calligraphic pen. The chanting continued, the chips began to pile up, there were still a great many uncovered when I realized this was meant to summon their grand-dam to this meeting, and suddenly I had a very bad feeling about it.
"She is near," said a voice.
"There are too many uncovered!" quivered another.
"Quickly, bring in the stallion!" hissed another. Several folks broke free from the circle to lead in a large chestnut horse whose eyes had been covered with what looked like a blood soaked rag.
"Faster, My mother is Mary Pane!" the chanting grew faster and faster, but when the air soured and everyone extinguished their candles there were still a couple of dozen uncovered tiles. There were a couple of sobs in the dark.
The hag appeared in the middle of a glowing mist, she hovered over the horse then spiraled around the circle, many whimpered. She stopped at me, hovering.
"What are you, then?"
"My fiancee,"
The Hag hissed at her. then turned to me, "Not one of the family yet, I see."
The menace in the voice was plain. "Still, something."
I felt the lighter in my pocket and pulled it out clutched hidden in my fist. "I am just a man."
"Yes, and a non believer. I have not had an ordinary man in many years." She drifted closer.
"Non belief is based in not seeing, I certainly see you."
She hissed, pulling up short. "You are not afraid, I need your fear, give me your fear!" she demanded.
Then I knew, she had been drowned as a witch four generations ago, but still held firm control over her increasing clan of witches. I also knew that there was a reason for their being no torches and no candles. Four generations ago, the village had chosen the wrong fate for this witch. I lunged forward grabbing the hag by the dessicated and crumbling neck. She screeched and tried to pull away. The chanting suddenly stopped. I'd had the butane feed open for a few seconds and as I brought my other hand around to her wispy dried clothing I snapped the lighter and a ball of flame erupted around my fist. Strangely, no one tried to stop me, but I could feel her terror. "My mother was Caroline Crover, now Nicoll," I said.
"Spirit Rider, be gone," she croaked,
I was hurled away, out of the dream, but knowing it was too late for her. Still I was shivering and was awake for over an hour with the echoes of the chant still in my head.

There were other snippits this morning, looking at bikini babes on the computer, then rushing off to work, later flying around in a broken down space ship that would only roll to the right.

I was also in another place where the light of day never came, but wanted to get back to my previous dream to make sure the children and other innocents were OK (Like the horse, for example, and the fiancee of my host.) I couldn't seem to re-connect. I felt the power holding me at bay fading, the terrible thing behind it gone, but that was the best I could do.