"Misericordiae Domini in aeternum cantarbo...", I began my usual midnight meditation. The cool breeze danced alingo through my window as my soul sunk deeper into the comatose. Then, it began!
The blood kept flowing at a slow pace...then i recall, i had just been hit by "someone from the shadows". I could see figures of hooded men...probably women too. My heart sank deeper. The room was a bit smokey and i was almost choking...yet, my captors strolled around with ease.
My back ached as i lay face-down on "the sacrificial table". Then the slow chants began...the "misericordia..." re-echoed in my soul. Something was going wrong, it was a different chant. In latin. This ancient war-lords had me captured as sacrifice for the one they called Irek. In horror, i noticed that thy sipped from the basin beneath, as it collected blood from my veins. Life was passing slowly and painfully.
Just as I had become hopeful...a taller figure emerged from the inner sanctum. Amidst cheers, he clutched a blade. Fully toothed blades like this were used by ancient warriors to increase the injury created by each thrust. The victim would rarely survive as the wound would take a shapeless form, even where the opportunity to be healed arose. The figure mumbled something in Spanish, "Omerta"...the voices vanished in unison, except the throbbing in my head.
Then, he lifted the blade, just above my neck. I could barely shout, as my strength had left me. My heartbeat increased its pace. I could taste death even before it came.
My assailant struck...I witnessed the blade descend at lightening speed, then, the back of my head touched the cold floor first. My body went limp...
. . .
My Liber Usualis latin prayer book fell off from my clutch as I tried to raise my body from the floor. My head now throbbed. Then, i remembered my Father's warning while i was yet a little boy; "Dont sleep while we pray, you will see Satan"...I guess he was right; I slept while praying, fell off from my bed and had a nightmare.
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