I stare at the accused men in front of me. Peter looks so aggravated and is clenching his fists. He hates these people, and I know why. It isn't the most pleasant memory of ours.
"Bronson de Reymes, Averery Ide, Jaydon Marci, Heathcliffe Boleyn, and Keaton Quincey, you all have been accused of the murders of 'The Darling Family', do you have anything to say in your defense?" My bow and quiver rattle against my back, sending chills up and down my spine. The wind whips my leather dress around and my hair out of its ponytail, making it messy and fly over my face. The sun setting splashes orange light everywhere, and on my scarlet mask.
"We didn't do it! I swear on my life!" Heathcliffe shouts, getting cornered by the people I've ordered to kill them. I still brought everyone else, even new recruits.
"Well, you already are." I spit, these men are stupid.
"You did it I watched you kill them you sick bastards!" Peter shouts.
"We didn't do anything!"
"I watched you as you killed Wendy! John! And Michael! How could you do that to them?!" Peter's turning red hot with rage. I pull my dagger out of its sheath that's attached to my waist. I wave it in front of Heathcliffe's face. The town gathered behind us watches on in horror.
"So... what do you think, guys? Die? Or live?" I ask my group of people I brought--who are actually working.
Everyone nods at each other and starts humming our death song, a send off song if you will, it's become a great trademark for us.
"Bronson de Reymes, Averery Ide, Jaydon Marci, Heathcliffe Boleyn, and Keaton Quincey, you have been charged with the murders of 'The Darling Family'. Your sentence... Death."
I hand the knife to Peter and his eyes glint with the happiness that was there while the Darling's were alive. I start to sing my part of the death song.
"Oh, Death, оh Death, oh Death,
Don't you spare these men for another year!
But what is this, that I can't see
with ice cold hands taking hold of me?
When God is gone and the Devil takes hold,
who will have mercy on your soul?
Oh, Death, oh Death, oh Death,
No wealth, no ruin, no silver, no gold
Nothing satisfies me but your soul!
Oh, Death,
Well I am Death, none can excel,
I'll open the door to heaven or hell.
Oh, Death, oh Death,
my name is Death and the end is here...
my name is Death and the end is here...
Oh, death, oh Death, oh Death..."
Peter stands in front of Heathcliffe, the knife I lent him ready to strike at any moment. I stand in front of Keaton, my sword held in a defensive position in front me. Millicent stands in front of Bronson with a fireball in hand. Red stands in front of Jaydon, her axe ready to strike. And Merida stands in front of Averery with an arrow drawn, ready to fire.
"Let this be a lesson to you all." I turn towards the crowd of townsfolk watching intently and fearfully,
"If you wrong us, we don't care who the hell you are, you will pay for your crimes." the town nods in fear, good. They're scared.
I turn back to the charged men, and I swing my sword at Keaton, and each... executioner attacks their own criminal. I walk away from the bloody body, blood splattered onto my pale face and into my raven hair. I hear my leather boots scraping against the gravel as I walk away, back to the Dark Forest. Peter runs up next to me and hands me my dagger. I put it back in its sheath, however I still keep my sword out.
YOU ARE READING
Rebellion
FantasyI am a Rebel, they say. They're right. It all started when I was a young girl, my parents died in a fire, started by the King of our land. I was only 6 years of age, and I was left with a burn tracing up my arm and onto my collarbone. I was taken i...
