Dr-Josef-Mengele

I can't move. I'm dreaming, right? Oh no. There he is again. The man without a face. He has come for me. Help. I can see the needle. I can see his knives. I know him. Who is he? Why doesn't he kill me? He waits. He waits until the sun begins to rise. Then he moves. He runs at me with the needle. Surely my life ends. But no. I wake up. Cold sweat. Heart racing. I know he will return. The same will happen. I don't get it. Why doesn't he kill me? Kill me. Please.