• The room was dimly lit as the captives walked with grueling chains linked with heavy metal around their necks and waists. A man, head down full of anger, stalked with chains rubbing viciously against his dry, coarse skin. Second behind him was dark in skin and temperature, with a deep red suit on that marked him as a Captain of some army or another, was taking it all too badly, with tears streaming down his face. Third behind the first, was a big burly man, large in stature and heart, he also was crying buckets of tears. Finally, the fourth was a small, skinny, pathetic creature. His clothes were torn and tattered, standing out amongst the rest and their clean cut suits and satin linen cloths. The fourth man was headstrong and determined that no matter what, he would say what he wanted and would be damned if it got him killed.

    Thick cloth bags, from everywhere but a sanitary environment, smothered and gagged the wearers with putrid smells and tastes that seeped into their mouths as they gasped fruitlessly for air. Walking slowly behind them, with riot guns raised high, the captors slowly stalked behind their captives. Poking each one in the arm, neck, and stomach, implying fear throughout the entire cluster. They laughed, pushed, prodded, and slowly pushed each one to their limit of control. Slowly, the soul leader of the captive party stepped forward and ran his gun across each of the captive’s heads.

    “Think, for this will be the last thing you ever say! What, what, is the place that you would rather be at this moment in time!” He yelled out, his hand going to his head, lowering his hat to his heart. Ambled his way back to Captive Number One, and asked the question. The captive meanwhile had been thinking for a very long time, just like almost everyone of the other’s, except for the fourth who was rocking back and forth on his toes. Captive One answered, ‘I would love to be at home, with my darling bride to be on my knee that is where I would like to be.’ Laughing, one of the goons came up and shot him in the forehead. Captive two stuttered out, ‘I want to be back at the old pub with my friends, drinking and making merry.’ and just like the first; they shot him in the head. It went forward like a play that kept repeating the same scene of death and horror, until the fourth captive.

    ‘I want to be here, at this moment in time. Right in front of you, with your gun pointed toward the floor and my dead friends around me, this is where I wish to be,’ the small boy stated straight into the man’s disgusted face. No one spoke, no one moved, for what seemed like hours unto days. Then, the captain grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into a small room beside the main hall.

    ‘Do you know what you have said? Would not you rather be sitting along a nice sunny, peaceful beach? Or in your house enjoying dinner with family and loved ones?” the Captain asked, his eyes glowing in interest of this young boy. For in all of the Captain’s long years he has never heard this reply, it had always been ‘I wish to be…’

    ‘Yes, but I cannot be there, I can only be here, for I cannot teleport nor can I fly like a jet. Therefore, I am stuck in this place, with you staring at me and me staring back, for I will not die without a final word, of which, I will be proud of. For those who always wish to be elsewhere and not in the present will fail at life, for they will never accept their destiny as written upon the grains of time,” the young man laughed, joyful laugher filled with all his youth and happiness. The Captain dragged the young man through a door that lead to the great outside. Then down the crooked path, to the awaiting army, standing still, guns in arm, waiting for one of their men to come out alive.