More and more the times grow dark. You realize with each breath that you seem to be living on borrowed time. You long for a time that isn't there anymore. You feel tired and a bit overwhelmed by the forces that threaten to take your very soul away if they could. Everyone tells you that you should have known. You didn't. You wanted to ignore the signs, and pretend that everything was normal. It wasn't, and it never will be.
Are you a prophet? No...but the visions come anyway. They talk of an oppressive government that threatens to suck the life out of you. You want to scream. You don't. What good will it do? They call him Messiah, and seemingly worship him. He promises good things and tells everyone to follow him. He says everyone who opposes him are fools. "Why wouldn't everyone want these good things?" he asks with a hint of sarcasm. Yet they don't understand the enormous cost they will to pay. A cost that will enslave a whole world...
They called him "Messiah" because he promised to bring them out and make them whole. He wore a black man's face and smile that told Cassandra that his promises would soon prove to be false. Even now, his words stabbed Cassandra's conscious being with a force that she never reckoned with in her short forty-five year existence. She was afraid of what he could do.
His eyes seem to meet hers, even though he was a thousand miles away and his image was being projected on a television screen. Cassandra shivered, noting that he condemned her as well. Images flooded her soul at the prospect of what would now happen to her. Would he decide to end her life? At this moment, Cassandra felt a resistance to that thought. She didn't want to die, but knew that most thought that she deserved to die for her part in what transpired. He had to fulfill his promise to punish those that had been involved, even though in her case, it was a very limited involvement.
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