The Karate Kid Dream

Last night, I had an interesting and strange dream. There was a young boy, maybe 10 years of age, who was the best karateka. He was undefeated. But somewhere, there lived a woman, who also was a karate master, and he had never battled her. So he challenged her to a match, which she accepted.
The match was arranged to take place in a hotel, in its basement facilities. One got down there by lifts which arrived in an atrium, from where one got into the gym facility.

On the day of the fight, the gym was crouded and it was set in a semi-dark lighting. Everybody attending was excited, but only talked in hushed sounds. I was on duty at the elevator hall, to watch for the boy's arrival, and to announce him prior to his entrance. Finally, he got off the lift.
He held a hand gun, and he walked slowly inside the hall. On his way there, he dropped the gun onto some chair, then proceded to the tatami inside.
The woman, about 40, slender with blond straight hair which she had mounted into a flat bun at the back of her head, was already there.
As the boy approached the tatami, he saw her standing beside the tatami, on the far end, holding an office chair on rollers in front of her, much like an obstacle or shield.
The boy looked at this, and I felt his disappointment. He just sat down on the tatami, in meditation posture, and holding up his left fisted hand to his face. There now was a big, black framed set of glasses on his nose. He talked to his fist as if it were a person, saying: 'you see, this is not what was supposed to happen. You have to always make sure you are prepared for surprises. Now, what are you going to do about this?'.
The woman had come closer to listen to his talk, and at that moment, he got up, grabbed her by the coat, and they rolled over the mat once.
Then, the match was over and judged undecided: no winner, no loser.
I could sense that the boy was not happy about that. She did not seem to mind one way or the other.
Then everybody walked out of the gym, along the ground floor hallway, the boy with his coach, and the blonde in front of them. I was walking beside the coach. It suddenly occured to me that the boy was no longer a boy, but a young man in his mature late 20s or 30. But before I could ponder this transfiguration, I suddenly realized that there was a big commotion in front of us: the blonde woman was collapsing onto the floor. In her fall, I could see a tiny hole in the back of her head, and a little blood. I realized that she had been shot. As I turned around to the man-boy, he was lying in his coaches arms, his head mostly bare of skin and his eye sockets empty of eyeballs, but filled with shiny, dark pools of blood.
I knew that he had killed the woman and himself with one bullet.
As I tried to sort out my confusion and shock over this development, I woke up!

Now, how am I going to solve this mystery? Maybe somebody can help me out!? Mr. Freud, if you, please????