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Flash Fiction about a Christian Theocracy. Hate it love it, just tell me

9 Years Ago


The Takeover


Senator Preston's cold blue eyes scanned the massive crowd. Interns, senators and lobbyists watched him intently, as he took a lengthy drink from the full, clear glass at the podium. he loved the long stares and looks of boredom. From his position this was a stage, with each performance carefully planned out, careful of the spectator's reaction. He cared little about his colleagues, it was his constituents that needed soothing, and boy did they need it.

Every word, every slight breath could send his polls plummeting and end his entire career. So, with his carefully planned movements, he began to commence the end of session. 

He banged his gavel twice, and took a sharp look at the crowd. His blood boiled and his heart beat quick. No man was ever allowed into the building without a pass, and here was this strange stout individual marching straight up to the podium like he owned the place. 

A quick, incorrigible thought crossed his mind. What if he did?

His long black trench coat and greasy hair unnerved him. As the man stood, just a few steps away from where Preston was, a smile ushered forth from his lips, the sickening smile of one victorious in his debacles. 

There was a reason he was let in, but nothing conventional could allow it. This could only be one thing and Preston wouldn't stand in his way.

With a chuckle, the greasy man opened his coat, revealing an illegal automatic weapon. He took no hesitation in opening fire.

Senator John Preston died in cowardice that day. He never even made a motion to fight him knowing full the man's intentions. The last thing Preston ever saw was flag stapled to the man's shirt, a banner for bloodshed and tyranny, a lion sitting on a golden throne.

Chaos reigned the tumultuous session. Senators fled the chambers only to find the doors locked. Many fell to their knees begging for a place in the new regime. They pledged their loyalty, to a tainted throne, and received the sweet release of death in return. 

Senator Hansen of Alabama hid under his desk shaking and cold. As waves of tremor swept so did waves of gun shot sweep the room. 

"Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death," he began the psalm as confident steps approached him.

"I shall fear no--" he was ripped from his kneeling position and brought to his knees before his assailant.

"Do you accept Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior!" The masked man boomed holding him by his collar.

Hansen nodded his head like a vulnerable naked child.

"Then accept and your atonement go in peace ."

The last thing Senator Hansen ever heard was the sound of his own voice crying out for God to save him.

****