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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1736575-The-Executioner-Unforgiven
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Action/Adventure · #1736575
Not done yet. Finishing depends on feedback. Read and Review. *****BE HONEST*****
The Executioner Unforgiven



The boy watched as his father stepped up to the guillotine. The executioner sat his father down upon the cobblestone step, put his head into the contraption, and locked it. “Any last words, Mr. Reynolds,” bellowed the Executioner. Mister Reynolds simply bowed his head and shut his eyes, as if he were a small child being scolded. The Executioner pulled the rope back to ready the giant blade. “Last chance, Mr. Reynolds,” Said the Executioner. Still, Mr. Reynolds bowed his head in silence. The Executioner swung his giant, bloody axe and cut the rope. The boy watched as the giant blade came down upon his father’s neck and cut his head off as if it were a hot knife going through warm butter. His father’s head fell into the basket below, staining it red.

His mother was then forced up out of her seat and pulled by the hair up to the chopping block. The Executioner looked at the boy’s mother and licked his lips. “Shame to see you go,” said the Executioner, “with bosoms like that, I would take you home if the king permitted.” The Executioner chuckled at his remark, and then let out a heavy sigh. “But, rules are rules, and I got to obey ‘em if I wish to get paid.” “So, any last words, Mrs. Reynolds,” asked the Executioner. Mrs. Reynolds spat on the Executioner’s face in retaliation to his question. “Why you little,” The Executioner then proceeded to slam her head into the lock, shut it, and proceeded to pull the bloody blade back into position.

As the Executioner finished pulling back the rope, Mrs. Reynolds Screamed out, “Run, Ben! Go, Now! Don’t look back. Just keep running until you are sure you are not being followed! Go!” Ben did as his mother said and ran. He was up and halfway out of the town square before the guards could comprehend what had happened.

I have to keep running. I can’t stop. Don’t look back. Keep going. Don’t Look… At that time, Ben turned back just in time to see his mother suffer the same fate as his father. Ben turned back around as the tears started to build up in his eyes, making his vision blurry. Furiously wiping his eyes, Ben could notice that he was near the tree line of the forest. Can’t… stop… now… Must… keep… going… Ben thought to himself, for what he thought must have been the hundredth time. Sweat was pouring out of his pores like rain, his heart was pounding ferociously in his chest, he was still tearing up, and all he could think was, I’m going to die.

Ben kept running until he thought his lungs were going to burst. He collapsed in the middle of the forest, his hair covered in sweat and tears, his lip and knees were bleeding from where he had tripped over the root of an oak tree. He crawled over to a nearby bush. Why? Ben asked himself. Why did this have to happen to me, of all people? I have done nothing wrong or malicious to deserve this punishment. Ben thought over his life to see if he could remember what may have caused this, and how in God’s name he got here. He remembered the time when he was only a mere child, and he was care-free and could play for hours on end. He remembered back when he was ten years old, his mother and father had carved him a wooden sword to play with. He could remember the taste of Elizabeth’s lips from when he had gotten his first kiss. He was fourteen. He tried to remember more, but his exhertion of energy got the best of him. As Ben slowly drifted off into sleep, he started to recall his first and only girlfriend that he had ever truly loved.

The next morning, Ben woke up hoping the previous day was a dream. It the occurred to him that he had scabs, dried blood, and scrapes on his knees and was still lying upon a bush. Ben got up, slowly of course, and looked around to see if he could even remember what all had happened yesterday. Most of it was only a blur to him, but the thing he could remember most was his mother’s voice screaming for him to run.

********Thank You to everyone who has read this, and I really Appreciate the feedback. Unfortunately, I have been very busy with school lately, and have not had time to upload a significant difference. I will upload whenever a noticable amount has been written. Once again, thank you all, very, very much!*******
© Copyright 2010 Marcus Holland (nonopopo12345 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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