LIFE IS A HORROR MOVIE.
(Readers, please proceed with discretion. This content contains vivid imagery and scenes. I encourage you to read to the end for the key takeaway. ‘Let’s stay woke’.).
I found myself in a trance-like state, unsure of how I had gotten to this place.
Slowly, my feet carried me along with a sea of people, mostly women with their babies or holding onto their young children. The massive structure ahead held similarities to a temple—the ones always bathed in a red glow.
At the apex of a long, steep staircase, the building elicited a mind-controlling aura, and we all obeyed it.
Filled with a mix of concern and curiosity, I followed the crowd, eager to uncover the mystery behind this surreal journey. The group swelled with a mix of childless individuals and mothers with their little ones—a myriad of individuals.
After what felt like an eternity, I reached the summit of the staircase, pausing to gaze back in awe at how high we were from the ground. I was glad I made it without slipping. I let myself in with the rest, and things started getting awkward.
The first unsettling sight was a garment hanging at the entrance, stained with what appeared to be blood.
‘It could be that of an animal’. Attempting to rationalize the gruesome display as the remains of an animal, I forged through the waddling crowd, my stomach churning with discomfort.
I encountered another individual, this time a man. He held a curled-up figure in his hand, resembling a young monkey without its tail. With determination, he scrubbed vigorously at the surface, the blood drenching the figure.
‘Animals don't deserve this level of cruelty. Why am I even here?’ Despite my inner conflict, curiosity propelled me forward to know what this place was about. As I delved deeper, the surroundings began to morph into something more than just a temple—it bore the resemblance of a shrine exuding a solemn energy.
My gaze caught the glow of the bulbs, casting a crimson light that deviated from the conventional golden hue. The walls dripped with blood, creating an eerie ambiance reminiscent of an eternal slaughterhouse.
'But why was I here?’ Questions swirled in my mind.
As we reached a wide opening filled with women and children, a grim scene unfolded before me. A woman, covered in blood, cradled her lifeless child in a corner.
The tension of hanging heavily in the air bore unspoken sorrow. I half-expected someone to claim their share of meat and depart with their child. However, my heart sank as I watched a familiar woman walk in with her two children, only to exit empty-handed.
‘Why isn't any child leaving with their mother?’
I was soaked to the bones with confusion and dread, even without seeing what was really happening. I squeezed through the hesitant crowd towards a raised platform, where a man stood wielding an axe. The scene before me held a disturbing truth that sent shivers down my spine.
Terrified and innocent children were callously thrown before him, forced onto their knees as the heavy axe sank deep into the side of their juvenile necks, cutting through their shoulder muscles and the shoulder blade, severing vital connections between their shoulders and heads.
Each affected child staggered away, their eyes wide with fear, before the excruciating pain took hold. Tears streamed down their faces, mirroring the anguish and betrayal they must have felt.
The child would helplessly clutch the wound, trying desperately to stop the bleeding, but to no avail until the child grew weak, leaving them to a final agonizing fate—death. And all this unfolded before the eyes of their mother.
Some of the mothers struggled with the dead bodies, but the huge men easily pried them out of their hands, dragging the bodies across the floor to work on them.
Though I wasn't a mother myself, I felt like a child, realizing that in just a few minutes, I could be next.
A bald man of average height, dressed in modern attire, orchestrated the cruel proceedings. I began to brainstorm a way to escape the situation.
I glanced at the exit swiftly to not get noticed and noted that the doors were wide open, allowing people to pass through as long as they were not holding a child or were not young themselves.
The man who had been holding the monkey figure was absent. It dawned on me that he had actually been cradling a human baby—a less gory way to express it.
The bald man had a reputation for being ruthless and unforgiving, but I endeavored to devise an escape plan. Two young women clutching their children to their chests gazed at me, silently pleading for me to take them with me.
I longed for people to be aware of the atrocities occurring within those walls and to at least burn the building down to ashes, bringing an end to the horrors. I made a mental note to ensure that justice was served.
Keeping the bald man engaged in conversation, I subtly distracted him from my intentions.
Seizing the moment when he least expected it, I bolted towards the exit, the two young mothers running beside me as if their lives depended on it—because they did.
As the bald man dispatched his guards after us, other mothers seized the opportunity to flee, causing the chaotic crowd to disperse, all desperate to escape with their children.
I managed to reach the street, where the unaware citizens living their normal daily lives still held the belief that the nightmarish place was a sacred temple.
With the help of a woman in a car, I made my escape, watching as the shrine grew smaller in the distance, the car disappearing further into the city.
Feeling just like a scene from a typical horror movie.
This above story stems from a dream I had on April 9, 2024.
Waking up was the best thing that ever happened to me at the moment.
It is disheartening to note that the diabolical practice of child sacrifice still persists today, not only perpetuated by certain villages in the absence of civilization but also by educated individuals like you and me.
The bald man clad in modern attire symbolizes our current era, where this grave issue remains in the shadows, seldom spoken of or confronted.
I feel compelled to urge parents worldwide to prioritize the safety and well-being of their children, especially those who are separated by distance.
Society needs to stop glorifying individuals whose amassed wealth is tainted with ambiguity and illegitimacy.
Individually, we must resist the allure of wealth and societal status, which demands sacrificing lives and committing unspeakable acts.
It is crucial that we educate our children about the potential dangers they could face, their causes, and the repercussions.
Let's caution our children against straying into the clutches of those who would harm them.
Ultimately, no one should have to endure the pain of losing a child or their own life. Thank you for taking the time to read this message.
