- Invitation Status
- Writing Levels
- Intermediate
- Adept
- Advanced
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- Genres
- Fantasy, Modern, Magical, Romance, Action, Urban Fantasy
My innocence burns painfully within me. I've pleaded, begged and screamed it, but everyone listened to Melody. The bitch convinced everyone that I knew what I was doing, what she was doing and I didn't care. Not even my standing as an apprenticed monk helped my case. And now as I sit in this cold dungeon, I quietly await my execution.
Heavy footsteps echo through the stone hallway, accompanied by the jingle of keys. I was told that the dungeons have started to become crowded and Queen Diana sent an order for mass executions and Exiles. I have not seen the faces of these criminals, nor do I wish to. I don't belong here, I belong on the road.
I blink back tears as the footsteps come closer to my cell. The keys jingle louder and I hear the lock on my cell clink. My throat tightens as the door is pushed open and a man comes in to place shackles on my hands. He has a black hood over his face.
"I'm innocent," I whisper, helplessly.
But he says nothing and leads me down the hallway and into an empty room with one window and a chair propped up against the wall. The man instructs me to sit and wait. He leaves through another wooden door, blinding me as the sun enters all too briefly. It is somewhat comforting to know that I will be leaving this world when the sun is high in the sky.
They've left me my robe and my prayer beads, which I rub through my fingers in prayer. I am shaking and my words come out in between sobs. The man returns shortly and when he opens the door again I hear people, lots of them. They are talking in hushed tones, but as the man leads me outside to the sun, their voices crescendo.
They are like animals.
There is a raised wooden platform that he takes me to. All eyes are on me and I can see the monks from my monastery. They are sitting upon the dirt, prayer beads in hand but their lips are not moving. They stare at me with such strong conviction that I know they believe in my innocence.
The man forces me on my hands and knees, with my head resting on a bloodied block. Two men arrive carrying a steel case. Everyone knows what it is inside, even me. It is the Ban Hammer. And they remove the lid and the hooded man - my executioner - takes hold of the great weapon. The crowd suddenly enters a frenzy and my ears are deafened by the noise.
I see my executioner's shadow on the ground before me, see him lift the Ban Hammer over my head. I see the monks that make up my family fight to get to me but are held back by Iwaku guards. Their agony only amplifies my own and my eyes well up with tears. Faintly I hear someone proclaim my crimes and I mutter to myself, to God, that I am innocent. I smell the blood of previous criminals and innocent citizens, taste the tears that enter my mouth and hear the primitive cries of the people.
And the executioner's shadow moves, I glimpse the Ban Hammer fall and realize that I no longer exist.
Heavy footsteps echo through the stone hallway, accompanied by the jingle of keys. I was told that the dungeons have started to become crowded and Queen Diana sent an order for mass executions and Exiles. I have not seen the faces of these criminals, nor do I wish to. I don't belong here, I belong on the road.
I blink back tears as the footsteps come closer to my cell. The keys jingle louder and I hear the lock on my cell clink. My throat tightens as the door is pushed open and a man comes in to place shackles on my hands. He has a black hood over his face.
"I'm innocent," I whisper, helplessly.
But he says nothing and leads me down the hallway and into an empty room with one window and a chair propped up against the wall. The man instructs me to sit and wait. He leaves through another wooden door, blinding me as the sun enters all too briefly. It is somewhat comforting to know that I will be leaving this world when the sun is high in the sky.
They've left me my robe and my prayer beads, which I rub through my fingers in prayer. I am shaking and my words come out in between sobs. The man returns shortly and when he opens the door again I hear people, lots of them. They are talking in hushed tones, but as the man leads me outside to the sun, their voices crescendo.
They are like animals.
There is a raised wooden platform that he takes me to. All eyes are on me and I can see the monks from my monastery. They are sitting upon the dirt, prayer beads in hand but their lips are not moving. They stare at me with such strong conviction that I know they believe in my innocence.
The man forces me on my hands and knees, with my head resting on a bloodied block. Two men arrive carrying a steel case. Everyone knows what it is inside, even me. It is the Ban Hammer. And they remove the lid and the hooded man - my executioner - takes hold of the great weapon. The crowd suddenly enters a frenzy and my ears are deafened by the noise.
I see my executioner's shadow on the ground before me, see him lift the Ban Hammer over my head. I see the monks that make up my family fight to get to me but are held back by Iwaku guards. Their agony only amplifies my own and my eyes well up with tears. Faintly I hear someone proclaim my crimes and I mutter to myself, to God, that I am innocent. I smell the blood of previous criminals and innocent citizens, taste the tears that enter my mouth and hear the primitive cries of the people.
And the executioner's shadow moves, I glimpse the Ban Hammer fall and realize that I no longer exist.
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