Pain surged through his body. His hands were splintered and bloodied. His eyes were too puffy to make out who was standing in front of him, and his head was throbbing from all of the loud noises. Blood dripped down his face, and his back was striped with dried blood. He tripped, and the man a few feet in front of him continued to mock him and yell at his fumbling. The crowds laughed and shouted various taunts and torments.
Finally, he had reached his destination. The man who walked in front took the cross he carried.
Death awaited him.