I notice it immediately. There is something quite different about this House of Horrors. All the usual motifs and banal imagery are gone from the façade; it is modest and unembellished.
Entering, I expect to see the usual ghouls and goblins, but instead, darkness greets me; silhouettes of flames flicker across the walls and the hiss of steam escaping from a valve greets my ears.
Rounding a bend, I come face to face with a giant projector screen with images of the Holocaust; a defiant Hitler and Stalin shaking hands, both grinning in a most evil way; death camps - unbelievably emaciated human forms, their voices begging for mercy or death; mounds of the dead uncovered by the Allies, removed from pits and laid out in rows for identification – all flashing across the screen, accompanied by chilling screams and barking German soldiers.
I run from the room in sheer despair, knowing that the truth of history is far more repulsive than anything man can dream up.
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