View of evil

I had a dream a cou­ple weeks ago–recording for both my ben­e­fit (in the future) and those who read:

———-
We (myself and two oth­ers) crouched in the bushes by the side of road. It is night. Up in front of us stood a tall fence, with bob-wire on top, the road run­ning up to it, with a large, slid­ing fence. We were wait­ing for something.

Then I saw a man climb­ing the fence, and reach­ing over the top. He was cut and bruised, with scrag­gly hair, a dirty face, and blood all over. I ran up, climbed the fence to meet him, and assisted him down. He can barely walk, so one of his arms is over me head, and I pull him along.

The gate opens. A group of young, zeal­ous bag-guys shoot as us. I turn, and point the gun I have… but decide not to shoot. We reach the bushes, lie down, and watch what hap­pens next.

Shad­ows of fig­ures start approach­ing those who were shoot­ing at us. The younger per­se­cu­tors all group together and have their backs turned towards the loom­ing fig­ures. Shoot­ing begins. The youths start drop­ping to the ground, dead. It con­tin­ues until only a few left.

The adults come out of the shad­ows. I start get­ting glimpses of their faces. Ugly, hideous, fat faces. Some women, some men. All evil. In their hands they grasp instru­ments of tor­ture. I don’t want to describe them.
———-
I wake up. Heavy breathy. Think­ing, “God, why did I dream that?” I fall back to sleep, with that thought in mind.
Instantly I’m dream­ing once again.
———
A brother tells me in my dream, “It’s because your view of evil is too innocent.”