It was raining. A man was secured, with a noose, on two planks held down by a sergeant.
He knew what was coming for him, But he felt his vision shifting from the noose, to the planks underneath him. The planks were connected to a shaft, on which ran a two-by-four, and off of that, hung his noose. As he thought about his family, his wife and children, he could not help but think, 'If the noose should break, I would fall deftly to the stream below'. But as fate would have it Pegur Johannsen would have to have broke his back from the height. But luck would have to think differently.

It was dawn, As the sun came up, Pegur found an unnatural chill running down his back despite the warm sun.
He looked down at a piece of driftwood floating harmlessly down the stream.
'But it's going so slow' thought Pegur, 'I might just... No... I won't...'.
The chill crawled slowly to the back of his head, and his hair stood on end.

'Pegur?' The captain stood in a traditional rifle hold, his forearm touching the hammer and slung lazily to his sternum, While his other hand drifted behind him as he walked. 'It's time.' He said. The sergeant standing on the wooden planks stepped to the side. 'Sal-ute!' Said the captain, As the noose tightened around his neck, and he fell helplessly to the stream. He stopped suddenly for a short period and started falling again. 'The noose had broken' was his first, instinctive thought, But the rope constricted his neck, and he could not think anymore. Drowning and hanging at the same time would have been a nice death until he was struck in the collar bone with a metal ball. They were shooting, The captain, sergeant, and a few others which Pegur did not notice. He found his way to the beach land, a forest two-metres off. He ripped the noose off of his neck taking one huge gasp, and forcing it out to take another, His vision was fading, and he had to hide quickly. He sprinted at the forest, but it was not to be, the guards had a cannon, and a grapeshot struck him in the back. One ball... Two... Six... Was all he could do. All he could do was count the harsh lashes he recieved. He thought once more about his wife and children, and he was in a field his farmhouse right behind him.
He started to hug his wife and ruffle his son and daughter's hair, they were smiling. The forest seemed to catch fire, The sky became red, His house was now a grey box on fire, He ran after his wife, whom had taken flight from him with his children. 'NO!' He screamed, 'No! No! No!'. As he chased them, their skin melted revealing fleshy muscle, The virus had got them too. The virus that he had released. That he had discovered in one of his pigs, That HE had thrown into the mouth of the world, feeding his 'first prize' pig to the town. Right there he had infected countless people, And they were coming. The whole reason that he had the noos around his neck, The whole reason the guard stepped off the plank, The whole reason he plummeted to the water. His back was shot with sharp pain, and his vision went white. Pegur Johannsen was dead by hanging.

I rate the story above ( The perilessly short one which didn't follow the paragraphical rule and should be deleted, Not that im Back-Seat Modding ) 5/10. For your lack of imagination, length and story. This is how long it should be.