I was in a room with a few members of my family and friends. There were dark-robed men guarding us, holding miscellaneous weapons. They were yelling at us. "Don't move! If you move, you die," was a popularly said pair of sentences.
They forcefully marched me to a chair in front of a darkly lit upraised area of the floor, in front of which was a chair. The upraised area was circular, along with steps leading up to it. The floor itself was pitch-black, but the area's carpet was blood red.
They strapped me into the chair and taped my mouth shut. One of them, seemingly the leader, held a gloved finger to my lips and said, "shh," trailing off in an ominous way.
They led forward one of my family members and the leader made a nodding motion, holding her still. A shorter man stepped forward, raising a knife. He held it with two hands up above his head before bringing it down in a swift, practiced motion.
The knife plunged into her chest and she fell to the floor. Her eyes met mine, full of pain, begging for mercy, for me to just help her...
This repeated for an unknowingly long time, each one almost exactly the same as the one before it. The only differences were the family member or friend, the weapon used to kill them, and the wielder of the weapon.
Finally, they led the last victim forward, their black robes dripping red. It was someone who I hadn't seen yet, someone I had been surprised, but grateful, not to see.
He looked back at me, his dark eyes panicked. His expression was terrified and asking for help, but I couldn't even move.
The slaughterers of people who I cared about dragged him to the upraised area of the floor. I tried to close my eyes, but I couldn't. A white curtain dropped as the last member, the leader, readied a dagger.
I saw a spatter of red stain it and heard a horrible, inhumane scream that was quickly cut off and a bout of insane laughter even worse following it. The leader stepped forward, proceeded by his followers.
"He is dead," he said in a voice that just sounded... wrong. It sounded like fingernails down a chalkboard and metal being dragged against metal and nails in a blender, all in one. Just... wrong.
He lowered his hood in unison with his followers. They all had the same face... It was twisted with a horrifying attempt, cartoon of a smile. Completely black eyes seemed to bore into my soul, rending me incapable of anything I could've said, even with the tape constricting my words.
"You're next."
And then, I woke up, the right side of my face wet with tears, along with my pillow.
I was too scared to look behind me.
