I have a recurring nightmare.
I’m standing at the entrance of a dark room, inside are three monsters, disfigured demonic faces over black robes. Anyone who walks into the room, the demons seize and devour without mercy, indifferent of the screams and cries for help, fiercely drinking in every last drop of flesh and bone and blood.
However, when I step into the dark room, the devils back away, cower, hiding their fear in vain.
They’re afraid of me.
But that’s not the most horrific part of the dream.
The nightmare, for me, is that I’m not afraid of them.