It was some kind of narrative about a serial killer/psycho type - ascetic, dark hair, black stubble - who got his instructions from a sort of dead homunculus, a little dead humanoid body about 8 inches high.
He carried his little friend/master around in a pine coffin he'd made himself, lined/packed with some sort of extremely frayed, ultra-soft silky gray cloth. At this point the weave was mostly gone, and it was almost like a fluffy silk packing material.
Our psycho friend also appeared to pack a steak knife.
The part I remember was him trying to recruit someone for some purpose, in a fairly dingy apartment. It would have been going well, except the recruitee's wife was not cooperating. Our psycho was doing his last ditch effort to clinch the deal by getting out and cracking his box a little bit, then fraying off and offering a pinch of the gray cloth.
For some reason this was, indeed, enough to do it - if the wife hadn't then started screaming questions about what was in the box.
I fully expected her to die about then, and she might have - if I hadn't woken up, thinking "What the fuck? I hate horror movies, and what's with the tiny dead man in the box?"
And that's where it actually got strange. While partially awake, I was presented with an extremely vivid and complicated 3D light show. Very much like standing in a midway, except it was just lights in uniform glowing globes and rods, some flashing, some rotating, and all very bright.
The impression was that I was supposed to be distracted by the show and forget the dream. But I kept thinking "What's with the little dead guy?"
After a few minutes, the light show blinked out, and I opened my eyes all the way.
And people wonder why I've never bothered taking drugs...