Shot at Here

I just remembered a dream I had last night. I was wandering through an old warehouse, or some other industrial building. Everything (walls, floor, doors, stairs) was made of rusted metal, covered in worn orange paint. Some things were labeled, not as what they were, but to narrate events that had happened there. For example, "shot at here" was printed on one wall with arrows indicating some bullet holes. I vaguely remember that I went through a door, across the hall with the bullet holes, down some stairs, maybe through another door into a very very large room. As I was making my way back the way I came, I heard the clang of footsteps on the metal. I hurried, but the sound became closer. "Don't shoot me!" I yelled. I got outside and ran toward the car I had apparently come in, a red Toyota, my mother's car. I managed to get inside the car and lock it when the dream ended.