"One more shot"

It was late. I felt that the Sun wasn't shining, not only taking my hope, but the light from my executioners' eyes. They were targeting me, and many other men, probably sharers of my actions. This was the point we had reached. Cold sweat was felling all through my body. The corpses of some of us were laying in front of my feet. The soldiers didn't look human. I wouldn't know how to explain it, but from their faces had disappeared that sparkle that shows the humanity that we all have inside us. One shot. A man fell next to me, like the log that has been cut, impotent during the action, and watching its destiny. One more shot. Just one more, and this would end. But I realised my big mistake. This wasn't ending. It had just started. Was this our future? To be executed by firearm if we didn't kneel? No. It wasn't. But I knew the truth. Many of us would fall, many would die. But we wouldn't left the Frenchmen take over what was ours. Our homeland. Our hearts. Our souls. I closed my eyes. I heard an harquebus moving towards me. I felt a shot. And rest. No more shots. None.