The End

This is just a first draft of a sample, this is not the whole story and I know that it does require lots of editing. I'd just like u 2 give it a try and see what you think...thanks! :)




The Romans fed the fire with the dry wood they had found in our stores. They brought all of us captives out of our dirty ramshackle prison. The rusty chains that had tied us to the wooden poles now dragged along the dusty ground, bringing up mushroom clouds of grit with every laboured step. The women and children threw stones at us; one screamed hysterically at me, calling me a heathen, a heretic. I spat back at her and she cursed me. The Roman Priest was babbling on about how we would burn in hell; we’d all heard it so many times before from our captors that we took no notice.
They made us stand in a line and then went down picking out the fifth, tenth, fifteenth person and so on. These people were then made to stand in-front of a line of soldiers; not even a foot away from their newly sharpened short swords. The Centurion began to count down: 3…2, I turned away, I knew what was going to happen, I’d seen it before; it was a routine Roman operation, done whenever they thought we were becoming too dangerous.1…The executioners had their swords at the throats of the captives before The Centurion’s gloved hand had even given the order. With nothing more than a slight swish of their red cloaks those cold-hearted soldiers had sent these innocent civilians across the bridge of swords into the otherworld. I sensed something new; this was the start of the genocide.