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Death
#1
I'm not sure where else to put this.

It is after the beginning of the Fall of the US, and bands of neos are everywhere, becoming the main enforcement arms of the new and dangerousgovernment. They wrongly accuse a bunch of us of something like witchcraft, and order our execution. No trial. No revelation of our supposed crimes. We are filed with desperation and desolation. We have no hope. They lead us to a large round area that is like a shallow well, with walls made of stone, about 5 1/2 feet tall. The whole thing is about five feet across. There is an opening through which we are led, one by one. The entire inside of it is covered with a kind of plastic tarp, that covers the floor and overlaps over the walls. I know instinctively that it is to make it easier to clean up the blood. We are led into this tiny arena, one at a time, ordered to face away from the militia, and then shot in the head. I know that I have no way out. I turn to them and face them, refusing to turn my back on them and tell them, "You are wongly murdering one more innocent in this war." I sudenly feel an intense peace and the presence of God. They all fire at me at once. I awake.
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