Kenosis

One of a few "preview posts" I did for the concept of a roleplaying game a while back, set in a dystopian future with an ominous, tyrnaical theology gripping the people.

Clad in dark their helmets shine, visors reflecting the search lights shining through the windows. You continue to run, seeing your friends fall around you. There is no time to stop, there is no time to help. You run through the corridors of the old textile plant, running past diagrams, blue prints of the city and inventories of Father's storehouses. Flames begin to spread, licking at the walls of the building as they spread further throughout. The banners burn and the flags fall, and you know that your time here was folly. There is no resistance against Father, none that has ever succeeded. You chase after the exit before the men in black round the corner, the black helmets cause you to feel as if you stare into void, and death. A numbing pain grips your body as you feel your legs give out from beneath you. Your arms spasm and you vision clouds and rumbles. Your head cracks on the hard tile floor, and as the men circle around you, your vision fades into black. 
"These men, these heathens, would defy The Father and bring humanity closer and closer to sin with their existence! They would hold us back with their stubborn attachment to weakness and impurity!" The voice is clear, but hard to understand. Your head pounds as your eyes begin to flutter open, the screens above each building on each block, barking down at the hordes of people. The people, who are all looking at you. You shake your head and find your arms and legs bound by rusted metal chains. Looking around you see your friends, all bound as you are, with expressions of failure and grief on their faces. Strapped down into the back of a convoy, you see guards, the men clad in dark standing in the streets, watching you closely. The people look on from the side walks, faces void of life and feeling. Your heart aches at the sight, and even the sun hides its face on this day, as nothing but cloudy skies and rain greet you through the open top wagon you sit in. 
"Man cannot continue to be subjected to sin, we cannot live our lives in fear of the darkness! We must stand strong and destroy those who would corrupt us with their foolish attachment to spirit, the weakness of our humanity!" The screens bark, but the mans voice is lost as you enter the compound. The walls sheen with exquisite metals, the glass reflecting your worn faces as the convoy continues. An abrupt stop throws you forward at the feet of a man in black. He picks you up by the collar and herds you and your comrades forward. A tear falls from your eyes as you begin to recall your family, your loved ones. Your fellow man. 
"These individuals have defied Father in a most grievous way." A large man in a pressed suit sits at a large desk, papers scattered about his table top. He removes his glasses and pierces you with a gaze, fear moving through you as you feel your hair stand on end. "These thirteen malefactors are guilty of thought crime, holding on to their weaknesses and endangering us all to the darkness of sin. May Father have mercy on their souls, for I will show none. Filthy sinners." The man rises and leaves the room, waving his hand to the men who hold you all down. One of them speak. "Sinners are to be punished, the crime of emotion being met with combustion. May fire purge you all." You look about frantically, searching for something to say deep down in your heart. Before you can act, you are again subjected to the darkness of blunt trauma to the head. 

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"Lenna...Im sorry." You shake your head and look about you, the floor far under you, your arms bound to a clamp, moving down the line. You turn your head to the left and see your comrade, his face still and stained in ash and tears. You swallow hard and try to think of something to say, but you were never good with words. He looks at you and smiles, weakly and pathetically. He recognizes how you feel, and you feel compelled to scream out. To cry and yell and rip and ravage those who have harmed your friends, these people who have showed you how to feel, how to love, how to be human. Again you hear the deep grizzled voice. "I told her...I would be safe. I called her and said I'd be home soon, to have dinner. I..." You look to your right, a muscled black man hanging as well, moving with you in reverse. A dim orange glow fills the room and you begin to sweat. As the heat rises you begin to breathe harder, your heart beating faster. Fear chills every bone in your body and you shut your eyes and pant. "Hey." The voice speaks. "Kid. Yeah, you." The man looks to you, his body dancing in the refraction of the tears welling up in your eyes. "You're the bravest little guy I've ever known, and don't you forget that. Stiffen that lip and look tough soldier." He smiles. A false, but comforting smile. You nod your head in agreement and close your eyes, the flames now audible in their proximity to you. You remember mom, dad, your big sister, everyone on the outside, fighting for the cause. The cause to take down Father. The cause to free humanity from his grip, the cause to feel.
Your skin begins to dry, and break, and then boil. Your hair alights and you feel your lips crack. Your eyes sting and your legs feel searing wrath. Your heart skips a beat. Then two. Then five. You release a scream with those around you as you hang in the fire, before you release your grip on life.

Author's Note

Likely several grammatical issues, was a tad lazy to go back through the old stuff and edit it all. Im more concerned with the actual opinions on structure, emotional weight, and how to improve the feel of it all.