Human Village

Think that has something to do with a place dedicated to the love, friendship and care among humans? Possibly someplace that cherishes living, and possibly offers places to relax and to get more in touch with yourselves? No, the former is called Woodstock, the latter is called a spa.

No, what I am about to tell you is nothing related to anything 'good' for common sense. You see, Human Village is a village that is dedicated to the use and abuse of humans in every way possible.

I heard about it from some nonconformist friends of mine, who were part of the organizing committee, and, being the curious person that I am, decided to go and see what it was about. They volunteered their 8 year old son to walk me through the place. At first glance, it was like a bazaar...a lot of kiosks selling a variety of stuff. Upon further inspection, however, the things creeped me out. They sold things like jelly made of human flesh, clothes made of human skin, various muscles and bones preserved in different ways, and then there was a food court selling stuff for that little hungry cannibal inside us. Roast fingers on a stick, mmm-mmm.

Then there was an exposition that involved both dead and living bodies. The living bodies, either horribly mutilated and disfigured, or being tortured before our very eyes and screaming from horrible, horrible pain as various stuff pierced, cut, burnt, twisted and broke them. As I was staring at these people, wondering if this all was just a huge hoax trying to get media attention or if it was the real thing, the kid started tugging at my arm and telling me I have yet to see the coolest thing of them all.

He said there was this dome they called the fire arena. He said it's the best and most enjoyed form of entertainment here and that I'd absolutely have to see it. He also said that if someone would ask my name, I shouldn't tell them. Okay, that sounded eerie at best. So we go in and up some stairs. The air smelled of burnt hair and roast skin and napalm and had an oily-greasy texture, so thick and heavy you could almost cut it. At the top of the stairs there was a huge square-shaped platform from which you could view the events down below. Right now, no one was down there, but what I could see was a huge tub filled with burning embers, some sort of acid bath, a furnace that was red hot on the outside and then there was an array of napalm guns and flamethrowers on the wall. Okay, getting even eerier.

Then a man, if I could call him that, walked out on to the floor of the arena. He was tattooed all over, with a lot of subdermal implants made to look like horns on his body, wearing S&M gear. And then he spoke and everyone on the platform fell silent. He explained the rules : everyone in here has a chance to die today. One person will be called from the crowd and they would be forced to walk down to the arena, where they would endure anything the Fire Master, as he called himself, would want to do. He then raised a hand, pointed his finger in my general direction and said a name. Everyone in that area froze for a moment and then when they heard the name that wasn't theirs, they calmed down.

A lady of about 30 with short blonde hair was pointed. Her face looked terrified as she was lead down the stairs, into the arena. And then the torture began. He plucked some holes into her arms and legs with hot iron rods, then made her stand, sit and then lie in the bed of embers. Most of her skin was burnt off and she looked like she would faint soon, and then he opened the furnace and just put her in there and let her die while she screamed in agony. This was no special effect, no hoax, it was all real. And the crowd was loving every moment of it, their cheers of joy racing her shrieks of agony.

I gazed into their faces, disfigured from a strange kind of exstasy, they were all in some sort of trance, it seemed. I wanted to leave and as I was exiting, a guy came up to me and asked for my name. 'No', I screamed and tried to run away, but he got me by the arm and said 'No one who's enjoyed the Fire Arena can refuse to tell their name. It is a risk we all must assume. Say it, or face certain death. ' I froze for a second, then screamed 'Timothy. My name is Timothy.' And with that the crowd pushed me back towards the platform.

The Fire Master was saying 'Well then, for the continued pleasure of the lovely crowd, let's have another person down here!' They all cheered in unison as I watched him raise his hand and he pointed towards me, screaming 'TIMOTHY! Your red hair will most certainly please the fire'. The crowd let out a loud jeer as I was pushed down the stairs. Time slowed down, my whole life flashed before me as I stepped into the arena.

And then I woke up in a cold sweat, and it was very hot in my room. Damn, I forgot to open the window when I went to bed again.