With eyes and blade glinting, they come at me. I strain against the ropes, try to bite as she unties me and asks the evil child to hold me down.
I feel my blood run as the woman slits my throat. She drops the knife and they stand back, satisfied.
I spring up and bolt, my head flailing about, painting the ground red with life and defiance. They clap and squeal their enjoyment. My eulogy?
I fall. The last thing I see is the child. She is peering into my face with a smile.
“Mummy, it has died!”