A wooden structure sits in an open field, a rope knotted at the end hangs from one of the beams. A rough wind begins to pick up and toss the rope about with a series of creaking noises. Dried blood and other fluid is stained against the platform. A pile of looted bodies sits a few feet away, some with clothes and some without. Different types of people from different ways of life stare open eyed off into the distance, no life behind their gaze. In this place of forlorn hope there is no heaven.
A note is attached to the beam...and so you begin to read...
