Had interesting dreams about evil creaks in an old house (evil creeks would have been better) a wanking ghost (?!) who turned into something like an elongated cello, a weeping beech, a wooden sword and a very compelling young heroine who made the sword to kill demons.

I dreamed that I was bleeding from the ears and waking up on an empty branch of the Green Line that does not exist; previously there had been storms. You win. Also, that sounds like a story of Sylfie. You should write it.