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Description
It seemed as though the entire town had turned out for the opening of the latest attraction: a huge riverboat where participants were allowed to hunt each other with real guns and live ammunition, all for sheer entertainment, of course.  The docks were overflowing with spectators and persons wanting to sign up for this new sport.  I can’t recall if I chose to go or if I was chosen, but I soon found myself hurrying down the long corridors and through the many rooms of the boat, pistol in hand.  They did a great job building the boat, made it all look like an authentic 19th century steamboat which you always pictured Mark Twain riding up and down the Mississippi.  From the creaky floorboards to the musky smell of dust and river water, it had quite the character.
I was foolish enough to run around a corner without checking first.  I felt the bullet enter my skull before I heard the shot.  As the slug wormed itself around in my brain, I made out two shadowy characters whooping and hollering, joyous of their victory.  I knew I had a choice of whether I wanted to fight death or let it overcome me like a dark blanket.  I chose the latter. I collapsed to my knees. My head hit the wooden planks. The world went black.

I awoke. I lifted my head and found that I was strapped to a cross. But I was moving.  I was moving down a track towards a train station.  To my right, others were being unshackled and taken down from their crosses by station attendees.  To my left, I saw an endless row of crosses, each one had a person who appeared to be sleeping.  My cross reached the loading dock and I was released.  I stumbled forward yet was steadied by helping hands. Looking up, I marveled at a collossal city before me, bustling with energy and new potential. Excitement welled within my heart.

********************************************************

Then I found myself in my bed.

Description
It seemed as though the entire town had turned out for the opening of the latest attraction: a huge riverboat where participants were allowed to hunt each other with real guns and live ammunition, all for sheer entertainment, of course.  The docks were overflowing with spectators and persons wanting to sign up for this new sport.  I can’t recall if I chose to go or if I was chosen, but I soon found myself hurrying down the long corridors and through the many rooms of the boat, pistol in hand.  They did a great job building the boat, made it all look like an authentic 19th century steamboat which you always pictured Mark Twain riding up and down the Mississippi.  From the creaky floorboards to the musky smell of dust and river water, it had quite the character.
I was foolish enough to run around a corner without checking first.  I felt the bullet enter my skull before I heard the shot.  As the slug wormed itself around in my brain, I made out two shadowy characters whooping and hollering, joyous of their victory.  I knew I had a choice of whether I wanted to fight death or let it overcome me like a dark blanket.  I chose the latter. I collapsed to my knees. My head hit the wooden planks. The world went black.

I awoke. I lifted my head and found that I was strapped to a cross. But I was moving.  I was moving down a track towards a train station.  To my right, others were being unshackled and taken down from their crosses by station attendees.  To my left, I saw an endless row of crosses, each one had a person who appeared to be sleeping.  My cross reached the loading dock and I was released.  I stumbled forward yet was steadied by helping hands. Looking up, I marveled at a collossal city before me, bustling with energy and new potential. Excitement welled within my heart.

********************************************************

Then I found myself in my bed.