Dreams of Mutilation

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Why do we as humans naturally have a fear of death, afraid encounter the white light. I for one think it has something to do with the process of dying, not the pain or suffrage but... they say your life flashes before your eyes.

What if you looked back and realized that those times were it felt as if it was gone from your mind. That you can't remember having done something yourself. That it was done by someone else.

I once had a near death experience of the age of 12, me and my friend, Ben were playing with his fathers Butterfly Knife. We felt so cool, showing it off to other kids. Ben took it too far and tried to juggle the knife, making it land straight into my eye, making me fall to the floor.

I saw myself being born, then ages 1-8 everything seems in order; ages 9-12, something's not right. Surely this had to be some kind of mistake, or the cause of the knife scrambling my brain. A man fully dressed in black stared down at me from my bed, whispering something of what I could not hear or make out in the slightest.

Next I saw the same man, walking with me threw the woods at night. I heard him say to me:

"Do you fear of death?" He said it in only a way a mad man would.

I looked up at him and nodded my head yes. I noticed a slight smile run across his face.

"So... what would you do if I told you that you won't live past the age of 22?"

I could tell I was uncomfortable with the question.

"Um... I'd probably cry" I responded.

"Now now" he said, "no need to cry, death can be a good thing. Saving you from bullies and the society, they'll treat you differently just because you don't believe the same as them."

He then pulled a knife from his pocket and struck it towards my heart. My body dropped to the ground instantly.

The last thing I saw before I fell unconscious was of this man, tucking me into my bed as if nothing had happened.

The ambulance was able to revive me and remove the knife from my eye, painlessly. I had never talked to Ben again after that incident.

I began to have nightmares of this man, of different memories of places I knew, going there with him at night. Him telling me a bunch of sickening and disturbing stuff, and then them almost all ending the same: him striking the knife towards my heart, all in a new and horrifying way than the last.

Eventually this came to the point were everywhere I'd go all I'd see was him, THAT THING!!!

I've decided to warn y'all of him before I did this, just remember my name: Ricard Muller.

I didn't want to have to end it this way but it seems as if I have no choice, Goodbye.



Credited to Darkbowser22

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