Peaceful slumber eluded me last night. Every time I drifted off, my dreams were filled with horrific images. One nightmare stands out in my mind. It began with a group of people climbing a set of steep stone stairs.
The group, six men dressed in long tunics, guide a naked man to a block of stone with a pointed protrusion in its center. Fear registers in the man’s eyes as he’s positioned over the block, but he doesn’t struggle. Instead, he allows four of the men to hold his feet down. Another man appears with a sharp blade and cuts his throat. Blood drips over the edge of the stone while yet another man, wearing a bright-red tunic, cuts into the deceased’s chest and rips out his heart. The man in the red tunic holds the body part over his head as the sun streams down upon it.
The memory makes me shudder. Sadly, that nightmare was mild in comparison. Throughout the night the dreams intensified—more killings with hearts removed or bodies burning on pyres.
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