I don't remember my dreams often, or at least, not for more than a few moments beyond waking. However, occasionally I have one that kinda refuses to go away. Last night I had one of those. Bad enough to wake me up, heart pounding, even!
I was inside a large stone, vaguely medieval-y building which looked something like a combination throne room and cathedral. It was lined with rows of low stone benches with a big dais at one end and a large set of doors at the other, with a portcullis lowered in front of them. The room was sparsely populated: a woman (my wife, I think) sitting on one the first benches sewing/embroidering something, a group of six or eight youngish women (mid teens to mid twenties) dressed all in simple white dresses who told me they were traveling nuns, and an elaborately dressed man who I was talking to. I myself* was older and walked with a limp and was dressed in the kind of finery you see on English kings like Henry III.
Anyway, the man I was talking to mentioned something that made me go over to a hatch in the wall beside the doors and opened it to look through. I saw a HUGE tornado (Cat. 5, easily) in the middle distance, heading directly for the building. I promptly slammed the hatch shut and started yelling for everyone to get underground in the cellar. As people ran for a previously-unnoticed-by-me staircase, I hobbled over and down the stairs, with the sound of the tornado getting louder and louder. On the next floor down, I saw a large, tall, completely open room (think Grand Central Station) whose wall facing the tornado was actually a giant piece of glass with two small doors at either side. I saw the nun-girls running outside and started screaming "NO! I SAID THE CELLAR, NOT THE BASEMENT!", but it was too late, as the base of the tornado appeared outside the building and sucked them up into it. The tornado kinda... bounced off the building and moved sideways out of my sight, but then I saw 4 of the nuns come running back from that direction, screaming. Mini-twisters were following them and latched onto their backs, trying to pull them back, but I was somehow holding the nuns where they were with my mind.
At this point, the adrenaline of the scene woke me up and it took me about 10 minutes to get back to sleep. I think my subconscious was trying to tell me that nuns and tornadoes don't mix.
*My remembered dreams are pretty evenly split between ones where I'm a third-party observer (like watching a movie or TV show) and one where I'm an actual participant. The ones where I'm a participant, I usually phase in and out of the "body" that represents me, so that I have both 1st and 3rd person perspective at the "same time".