We were investigating this dark tunnel in my living room. Not the living room here, but the one in my house in Eltville, which made it creepier. Like in House of Leaves, we first entered with just some fishing wire, but it didn't go 2 miles, it only went about 20 feet. Luckily, around the 30-foot area, we entered this other room. It was about the size of my bedroom, with two doors in the opposite corner, and lit by two lamps on either side. A shelf was in the far corner. Like this.
<-^ doors ------------ shelf
| x lamp
| | Tunnel
| _ V ______________
On the shelf was a giant flashlight. I was freaked from the first tunnel, so I insisted we trade our small light for the big one. As we (I don't know who my companion was) took the flashlight down, Rachael came out of the door opposite the tunnel and asked what we were doing. I explained we wanted to explore the labyrinth. I voiced the problem of powering the giant flashlight. It was more of a spotlight than anything, it didn't run on batteries. Rachael reached up to the very top of the shelf (she's one of my shortest friends, y'know) and grabbed an extension cord. I insisted this wouldn't help very much, but she was like "y'know, it's something." The cord of the flashlight already stretched pretty far.
So we lugged this thing over to the other door, the one on the wall perpendicular to the tunnel, but when we tried to enter the door, my mysterious not-Rachael companion walked right into this wall of black stone. Rachael was like "Oh that's right, follow me!" and went through the other door. We followed her down this oak-panelled hallway. She removed the 3rd panel on our right to reveal the real tunnel entrance. We plugged the giant flashlight in and went on our way.
The tunnel wasn't as gigantic or hollow as the one in House of Leaves, it was more like the basement of Randolph, except black and lightless and no doors. We still needed the giant flashlight though, as without it it was so black we could not see. Eventually we find another door, and go through to find the basement of Saint Augustine's church in Wiesbaden. It's lit by a single candle. In the center of the room is this small hispanic toddler who introduces himself as Milo. We were asking him what he was doing here when I woke up.
The second dream was shorter, and involved Andrew Ballard and me sitting in a cafe discussing what hors d'oeuvres we should serve at Madeline's party. He suggested toquitos.