Forsaken

• Artist: Koyle Marris
• Description: I'm trying to rewrite a very short story that I wrote for fun once, at the time it was brilliant and now I can't seem to remember what or how it went exactly, so you get this... Don't expect much, its pretty much a right off the top of my head thing, so, try to be nice. :P
• Date: 01/11/2009
• Tags: forsaken

Stepping up to the chopping block I felt no fear, for I knew I had done nothing wrong. Laying my head on the wood I was calm, ready to be the scapegoat for a murderous fiend. I looked over at the executioner, he smiled at me, a wretched smile that didn't mean 'hello', but 'goodbye'.

The crowd gathered to see the horrible man who had been raping and murdering be beheaded, but they would not see that today, no. They would see me, just a random man pulled off the street, be killed because the real killer was too elusive, and the authorities were too damn lazy to actually try and find him.

The executioner stood up, and with dull axe in hand, he asked me. "Any last words, scum?" I said nothing but merely spat in his face. "Awright," he said smuggly, raising his axe high in the air. "So be it." And with all his might, he dropped the blade onto my neck, again and again to make sure the job was done right. As the crowd cheered on, my head fell to the ground with a thud as I fell into the endless abyss.

Comments

[Gator-aide]

I liked it, twas entertaining and it brought the views of how one might feel before their final sentence. To everyone around them, they are but a criminal, a fiend that deserves every inch of his sentence. Yet to this one man... only he can know the truth of the life he has commited himself to. Tis possible for him to become in such a state where he tells himself over and over it isn't him and its not his fault. As for that, we'll never know who the real killer is...

[mariathedreamer]

it's tough getting those lost stories back, isn't it. If you wanted, you could probably make this a bit longer and draw in some details, like how the wood from the block would feel against your neck, what your hands were doing, the specifics of how the crowd sounded, smeeled, looked. Also, if he had done his job right, it would have been only one chop... but interesting to think about how long your consciousness would last... would you really be conscious as the head falls? curious...