The crowd erupted in jubilation, yet, I couldn’t celebrate with them. There was something familiar about this man standing on the podium. I suddenly felt like I didn’t belong. I needed to get away from this man but I couldn’t figure out why.
“For the past two and a half days, “the man on the podium continued, “I have been celebrating with you. I have gotten rid of the ones that made you feel bad. The ones that told you lies and tormented you because you followed me. Behold, I have killed them!!!”
Just then, the crowd moved enough so that I could see. I realized now where that terrible, awful odor was coming from. There, lying lifeless next to the podium, were the two men. The two strangers that, awhile back, came into my town and warned everyone not to take a mark on their hands or forehead. The men that helped thousands of people. The men that convinced me not to take this mark that many others tried to convince me to take.
The crowd bowed themselves toward C H as he got in the limousine and drove away. The reporters kept talking about how great this man was and how world peace had finally come. The party resumed but I didn’t join in. Instead, I made my way over to the bodies of these men. I stood over their lifeless bodies, for a few minutes, wishing there was something I could do. Realizing there was nothing that could be done, I started walking toward the woods, where I came from. I was in no big hurry as I thought about the man that just left. He reminded me of someone I saw on TV, a few years ago. Mr. Rist, I think was his name. He was an up and coming politician that wanted to change the world.