Culture Shock

There comes the footsteps again, trying to fright the barricade. They'll kill me, I know. My eyes sought for a table to hide myself where I've always hid. They can't. Not this time...

But before I could duck, a troop of odd-looking men kicked the wooden door of this historical pavilion, searching for the target they've been looking for. As his feet approach the table, the hope in my mind poured out, draining my body.

A heavy grip snaked around my wrists causing my blood rushing into my palms. His voice thundered as he commanded his men to tie me up. I could neither scream nor make a sound; just plain gasps in my mind.

They were too strong and I undeniably could not fight back. These men brought me to a huge tree, far from the normal, where there was a rope.

At a blink, I was struggling from being strangled with my feet meters from the ground. A flame was lit from the torch he was holding. The heat eating my skin and the smoke choking me held my breathing.

His eyes were as blank as emptiness, staring at the flames covering my body. Mine were occupied with plea, hoping for salvation.

Have mercy, Leonidas. Don't let me die.

I saw him took a step, but stopped. My shoulders struggled with purest anticipations though the fire has consumed my flesh.

No.

But he was too late. I died... For a millionth time.