The room is dark, but there are sounds outside a door. No light, no footsteps, no voices. Just the sound of someone, or something, breathing, moving on the floor. The silence is eerie, but soothing. After all the screaming and yelling it's a relief to know night has come and the voices have stopped.
It's not a small room, the floor and walls are made of wood. It looks old and doesn't have any furniture. A crate in the corner and some beams to hold up the roof. It looked like there might have been a window in a corner once, but it's too dark to see now. The darkness is the only thing that can protect you here.
When morning comes, the men will be back. You don't know where they'll go, what they'll do to you today. Some days you hear muted screams in the distance. Some still have a fighting spirit left in them, others are too worn down to care anymore. But they all scream when they're taken away. And nobody ever comes back.
The next day, after someone is gone, they'll usually come for you. Not to take you away, but sometimes you think that would have been easier to deal with. The younger of the men is always in a strange mood on days like that. Like a subdued ecstatic one. I wonder if they know the red drops on his shoes are visible. I wonder what he does to them. I wonder, as they take their turns and kill another few pieces of my soul, whether I'll be next.
No wonder I'm always tired when dreams like these fill my nights. This was only a small part of one of a few last night. I seem to be in one of my "two weeks of violent dreams"-periods.. I haven't had one of those for a while, my dreams are usually a lot happier than this.
This dream ended well though. When I was younger I tended to give up, now I fight more in my dreams. Although I do wake up kinda freaked, it did feel pretty good to fly over the ocean at the end, leaving the psycho killers behind..