On Founders Day each year, there was a parade which ended in Middleton’s Park Square. Everyone was there this year except for Cullen. He had just lost his wife Hallie in a freak accident. She had received a phone call telling her she was next. The Mayor, what he called himself, was a self- appointed cleanser of the lost souls in his village.
“Damn it” he screamed, “This is not what life is supposed to be like!”
“Yes it is, Cullen, she was unclean and she paid the price for it!” the voice behind him whispered. “You know, you’re next.”