You are sitting on a hard rock, in the middle of a clearing. People of all races surround you, gazing up at a wooden cross that is roughly crafted. Women are wiping tears off their cheeks, Men are bowing their heads, Children's eyes are full of shock. Soldiers stand close by, watching the crowd with sullen eyes, disgust showing clearly on their faces. You stand up and gaze at the cross, oblivious of what you see. A man is nailed to the structure, blood flowing from many wounds on his body. His hands and feet are barely recognizable, and you can just make out nail heads embedded in his skin. Then your eyes drift up to his face. Despite his many wounds, the man's eyes are searching the clearing, resting occasionally on the small children present. You watch in amazement as the man lifts his mouth into a smile. He is gazing at an elderly woman. She is weeping loudly and covering her face. A young man stands beside her, his eyes glistening with tears. The man on the cross raises his head and speaks, his voice surprisingly calm.
"Mother, here is your son"
The weeping woman looks up, a sob escapes her throat and she closes her eyes. The man gazes down at her for a minute more, and then his eyes turn to the young man standing beside her.
"Here is your Mother" he whispered.
The young man bows his head. The man lifts his head, drawing in a breath. He looks to the clouds and smiles weakly.
"it is finished" he whispers.
His body goes limp and the loud moan of the man's mother sounds out. The sky turns dark and thunder echo's loudly. Rain pours down from the sky, washing away the dark blood stains of the dead man. You feel tear's sting your cheeks, and you turn away.