I Dreamt That I Died Like My Ancestors Could Have
Trigger warning real quick because this is pretty brutal. If you know anything about Scandinavian torture and execution methods, then you know this will be brutal.
I had a dream the other day that was one of the worst that I’ve ever had. I have this thing where I remember most of my dreams, so I might post here more often. (I just recently found this group.) My dreams are extremely vivid and I remember most details. Also, this probably wouldn’t have happened like it did back then, but it’s what happened in my dream, so don’t judge if you’re some history nerd or something. Anyways, here it is:
I was a Viking getting off a thin boat, you know, one of the ones with the dragon head on the front? I jumped off and ran towards a coastal village along with a few others. I was wearing a helmet that covered the top of my head along with my nose. I also had a short sword in my right hand and a small, wooden shield in my left. I didn’t really see what I was wearing, but I saw hues of green and red when I glanced downwards, maybe a tunic?
Anyways, we were running towards the town when suddenly I saw a townsperson running towards me with a pitchfork in his hand. He was your generic medieval citizen from what I could tell. He threw the pitchfork, but I held up my shield, deflecting it. It bounced off and flew to the left of my body. I ran at him and stabbed my short sword into his stomach. He groaned before falling over as I pulled the sword out from him. It made a gross, squelching sound.
A wave of guilt and regret washed over me as I looked at the man groaning on the ground, holding his stomach. I didn’t want to do this. Why were me and my tribe even here? I thought. Brutally killing a village just for some extra food, money, and supplies? This wasn’t right. I stabbed him in the throat, making his death quicker.
I walked back to the boat where a few other Vikings were keeping watch. I told them I didn’t want to do this. That I felt this is wrong. One of them, a large, brown haired man, yelled at me, telling me to go back out there. I said no. In an instant, he lunged at me, stabbing a dagger into my right shoulder. I couldn’t raise my shield or sword in time. I dropped both and fell to my knees. The sharp pain in my shoulder was bad, almost as bad as when I’ve been shot or burned by explosions in other dreams. He then hit me in the head with the butt of his dagger.
I woke back up with my arms bound by ropes tied to poles. I tried to mover, but I couldn’t. I could only swing my legs and love my head. I was in that same village, but it was more destroyed. Houses were burning and there were multiple dead bodies strewn about the town’s streets. I looked around and saw that multiple others from my tribe were watching me squirm, sneering.
Then, I felt a sharp pain down my back, someone was cutting a line through my back. It stung so bad that I screamed. I could feel blood oozing from my back, dripping down my legs. I looked down to see that I was stripped down to only my underwear, but I could also see the blood oozing down my legs. I looked to my shoulder that was stabbed, and the wound was still there, bleeding. There was dried blood surrounding it along with fresh. I then felt the pain of being forced into a T pose with a hole in my shoulder. It was brutal. A mix of being sore, burnt, and stretched came from that area. But currently, I was more focused on my back.
I then felt hands on my back, they pulled at the skin surrounding the gash, spreading it open more. Tearing my flesh open. I screamed as they did this. I felt more blood pouring out of the wound, I was getting dizzy. Then, I felt their hands digging into my body, ripping through meat and muscle. They ripped more and more out of my body before I felt them pull at something, then I felt a pop. They had broken my ribs. I screamed again. Then, I felt them grab something else. I could tell them were my lungs, because when they grabbed them, I forcefully breathed out. I tried to yell, but I had no air in my lungs. Then, I tried to breathe in, but I couldn’t. Their hands were still holding them closed. They pulled more on the lungs, I could physically feel my trachea moving backwards. I then knew what they were doing to me. The Blood Eagle. Then, I just sat there, bleeding out, before I woke up, sweating.