A Really Freaky Dream

I'm in a slaughterhouse, one that has been shut down for many years. There is a well in the back of the building, the kind they flushed the blood and guts down. Someone gets a ladder, and we climb down into it. At the bottom, the blood is still running; I can see it from five rings up the ladder. I still decide to go down. At the bottom, there are two ways to go. One that leads to the river, the way that the well is supposed to go, and one that goes the opposite. The way from which the blood runs. My curiosity takes the best of me, and I follow the way that isn't meant to be there. The stench is overwhelming. I crouch, face inches from the gore, and shove myself into the forbidden tunnel. I walk this way for about ten minutes, when it opens into a cavern. At first, I only see the light. I wish the dream had stopped there. I look up, and hundreds upon hundreds of human bodies dangle from the ceiling by their feet. There are buckets below each one, catching the blood that drips from their lifeless forms. I'm not sure why, but I don't turn back. I keep moving forward, into the masses. Some of the people I think I recognize, but I don't stop to look. Something is drawing me to the back of the cavern. When I get there, there is a tub full of blood. Above it is my mother and sister, dangling by their feet. I scream and start toward them, when the blood below erupts, its stillness broken by a man-like creature. He gasps as if he had been holding his breath. His teeth are pointed like daggers, bigger than human teeth. Ribbons of flesh hang from them. He has not yet seen me and begins rubbing the blood on his arms. At first I think he's trying to get it off, but he pools more blood into his hand from the tub and rubs it into his skin. He finally notices me, and his eyes are everything and nothing.  "Who are you?" I ask, my voice barely a whisper. He smiles the cruelest smile and answers in a cacophony of a voice, "My dear, I am the red-painted man, the Devil."

The End

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