I awoke in a fright, drenched in sweat. The second my eyes open I shot upright and cradled my head in my hands as I recalled what I could of my nightmare. Fire. There was lots of fire, that much I did remember. I could almost feel it, it was strangely warm and muggy in the pitch black that was my bedroom. Not sure what had put me on edge, perhaps it was the recent murder in the neighborhood, whatever it may be I was still uneasy and likely wouldn't be able to go back to sleep.
Suddenly the light above me flickered on and I discovered my bed was surrounded by many of the townsfolk. They all looked at me with the same crazed, almost vacant stare. I failed to notice that they rigged a pulley system in the middle of my room, though that was understandable because no sooner than the lights turned on, two of the townsfolk had stabbed thick hooks through my heels. I cried out in pain as the iron pierced the tendons and tissue, I cried out even more when the ropes attached to the hooks were taut and I was dragged towards the end of my bed. As I was being hoisted to the center of my room, my head collided with the iron bar that ran across the foot of my bed and again with the hardwood floor. Cuncussed, I could barely feel the pain in my heels. Slipping in and out of consciousness, I had only glimpses of the people in the crowd. Someone had stepped forward with a knife in hand, and had I been more conscious it would have become all too clear as to what was about to happen. I barely felt the cold steel opening and passing through my throat. Deep crimson began pouring out, pooling beneath me. The room may have been humid and warm, though it seemed as if the world was growing colder and colder. My head was spinning, the room grew dark as the lights were fading. I was being bled, like an animal for slaughter, and there was nothing I could do. Unable to rage against the dying of the light, I did go gentle into that good night...