And the choir sang;
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Joy.
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BANG
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And the conductor fell dead.
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Panic erupted, and men in green walked in, and I stood there, panic stricken. My mother grabbed me by the hand, attempting to lead me out of the church, but we were too slow; the people with the guns had grabbed us and were shoving us through the doors. I took hold of my crying brother as we were shunted onto the men in green’s cars, forced to sit down, held at gunpoint.
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I made an attempt to calm my brother, as some of the people with the guns were looking at him mutinously. Noah said, sobbing, “Where are they taking us? W-where-” I frowned, looking away from him, on the verge of tears myself. “...I don’t know Noah. We can only hope that-”
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Then one of the green men spoke. “People of Octainne, our high chancellor has deemed you filth. Your kind, especially those imperfect and those who choose to worship such falsehood, have been useless to Hodinse; only more mouths to feed. Therefore, you shall be dealt with… effectively. For now, however, to your homes you shall attend, but tell your neighbours this: they are worthier than you. The filth you and your families contain as lead to this, as so is the filth you worship.”
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I looked toward the window, crestfallen, I had so many questions, but reading the room, I knew this was not the time to answer them. I simply watched our church burst into flames as we were taken away. The Solicist Church of Joy.
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To think I hated that place.
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