s.s.t.

"This crippled mousetrap shall be a fit end. A bit
of gunpowder and a piece of lead will be all the justice
needed. Retribution for lawless deeds draped in
the guise of love for all mankind. This man falls tonight."

A shot...stumbled escape...time awaits.

He crouches quietly behind swollen barrels of rusting
nails and peers through the spintered pine wall. Slow
hooves clomp along the lamp lit path. Nearby chatter
hangs close to distant lips. He can only decipher
their hurried tones.

"The man is surely dead. And along with his
shattered skull rest the weakened notions
of tyranny. This beloved homeland is now rid
of his toxic image and tarnished beliefs."

A gathering begins to approach the makeshift fortress.
The greenstick break continues to pulse through
the bloodied shin and needles into his temple. He
twists toward armed shadows as they slide among
fields of dancing dust particles.

"How can they oppose my actions? They all wanted this -
prayed for his death and yet none would commit. And now
I will share his realm. Sic Semper Tyrannis..."

As he uttered the fleeting phrase, the explosion drowned
his voice. The white flash reflected off the opposing wall.
An unnatural force blew through his spine and threw his body
limp into mounds of mildewed hay.