TW: CHARACTER DEATH, clowns/circus, trauma
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The sun was above them, blazing down mercilessly on the sailboat where the two of them resided. The silence between them was unbearable.
"So. May I ask some questions?" Azriel spoke, just wanting this awkward situation to end.
"Sure? Depends on the questions though." Ambrose replied, looking at the different scars, cuts, and tattoos scattered across his body. Each one had its own story after all.
"Okay, first question. Why were you so- how do I say it- intrigued by my hand?" Curiosity filled its voice. There hadn't been a single person or host that has looked at its strange body like that. It was always disgust or just nothing. But Ambrose? He was different.
"Well, it's mainly just because I've never really seen anyone like you. It's cool." he replied, a faint smile appearing on his face.
"Well, I'm glad someone thinks that. You're the first person to actually say that."
"Am I? I'd honestly expect more people to be intrigued."
"Yeah, it's a first... okay uhm, next question, then one or two more."
"Ask away."
"What made you choose to travel around? You're from such a high-powered family, it just doesn't make much sense." it asked, giving reason to why it was so curious.
"Well, I travel for a few reasons, to be honest. My main reason, though, is because I just got bored of staying in my town. Yeah it means a lot to me, but I wanted to do more. After all, I'm a showman, and circuses are usually traveling, not just sitting in town. That's another reason. My shows were getting less popular, the town's folk had already seen all of our tricks and stunts. Right now, though, I've let them have long break from work. Our last show was a big one, they all deserve the time off, heh. Third reason why I travel is just because I've wanted to see the world since I was a young boy. That's really it I guess."
"Oh, cool. Okay, next question. How did you die?" it asked, immediately regretting it, seeing the light leave Ambrose's eyes. "You don't have to answer that, I'm sorry if that's too personal-"
"No, it's fine. I can answer. Just not the best memories, y'know?" He shifted in his spot.
So. This happened almost three years ago...
It was a calm afternoon, and my father and I were traveling through a town. I was 18 at the time. We were outsiders, fugitives, in this town. Reason being? It was a rival town to ours. Though, the last thing we expected was to be arrested just for passing through...
An unfamiliar voice shouted angrily out from behind us, telling us to stop. When we turned around, we saw three people; two guards and the ruler of the town.
My father replied in a nice tone, but the woman just ordered one of the guards to tackle him down. Then, she ordered the other to tackle me. My father didn't fight back. But I had to, I couldn't just give in. In the end, though, the guard knocked me unconscious.
When I woke, I was tied up. Hand cuffs held my hands together, while my ankles were wrapped with rope. When I looked up, I saw my father being dragged over forcefully to a stage. There was a guillotine on it. Crowds surrounded us, all cheering to see what happens next.
I still have that memory burned in my head...
"I declare that Baron Hendrix and his son, Ambrose Hendrix, both be executed publicly after trespassing on enemy lands! We shall not stand for your tyranny in our village. Let the execution begin!" she shouted; she was already on the stage, standing next to a hooded person.
"NO! Please! We aren't here to fight! Just please, let us go! Let my father go! Take my life if you must, but leave him be!" Ambrose shouted, pleading for freedom. His attempts were unsuccessful.
"Shut up, you heathen! You and your pathetic father have murdered hundreds- thousands even- of our people in battle! You don't deserve our mercy, especially after you refused to give us mercy!" Her voice was cold.
"Ambrose, please, it isn't worth it. We can't survive this. I'm sorry, my son." Baron exclaimed, sorrow in his voice. "This is our end."
"Nononono, it isn't, it can't be! Please, ma'am, just let us go! I promise, we won't fight you any more! Just- please... I have too much to lose, I don't wanna die yet!" Ambrose shouted, hot tears streaming down his face.
"Why would heartless monsters like you have anything to lose?! You're pathetic. Lying for your freedom!"
"I'm not lying!" Anger was prominent in his voice as he shouted those words.
"Well, even if you aren't, I don't care. You and your family have still done too much damage to be forgiven!" she shouted, looking over to the masked individual beside her. "Continue with the trial, please."
"No, wait!" Ambrose wailed as a last attempt. The stranger nodded, heading over to where Baron sat, waiting for his end. They grabbed him by the collar, dragging him over to where the guillotine sat. After pushing his head down into the lunette, the figure locked it in place and prepared to drop the blade.
Ambrose looked frantically for a way to escape his bounds, praying to whatever holy beings that may be out there to help him just this once. He struggled ruthlessly, finally loosening the ropes just enough to escape his bounds. Running over to the stage where his father laid, he had only one goal. To stop whoever it was behind the mask. But right before he could reach the stage, the blade was dropped, rendering his attempt futile. As he watched it drop, so did his heart. His father's head was severed from his body, then falling into a basket below. He stopped in his tracks, unable to do anything but stand and stare. His thoughts ran wild, thinking of only one thing. He was next.
"Grab him!" Ambrose snapped back out of his thoughts, looking around frantically. He was too late. Two guards grabbed him by the arms, a third then coming up to retie the ropes. He struggled, but it was no use. As he looked over to where the guillotine sat, he saw a man dragging his father's body off of where it once was. He was next.
The guards dragged him over, the hooded figure pushing his head down into where his father once was. There was still blood there. He was next.
The figure locked him in place, preparing the blade once again. This was it. This was how it ended. His life was coming to an early end.
Memories flooded through his mind. Moss' sweet smile and high-pitched laugh, his sisters all hugging him, his mother bandaging up his wounds, his father playing catch with him, his cat, Pipsqueak, nipping at his hands for treats and cuddles... they would all be gone. He wouldn't see them again.
"I'm sorry..." he managed to whisper. The figure dropped the blade, ending him once and for all.
It was over...
"I was publicly executed in a rival town. A town we had so much history in." he concluded, sorrow clear in his tone. Tears were threatening to spill from his eyes.
"I'm so sorry, I-I didn't know." Azriel muttered, completely speechless of its host's timely demise. It of course had heard more solemn stories of how previous hosts had died, but this was a whole new tale... perhaps it has to do with it being in a new region, or how he died at only 18.
"Don't apologize... any more questions?" Ambrose asked, trying to change the subject.
"I was gonna ask what you were doing before I had taken a physical form and presented myself to you, like in the asylum, but from what I remember..." Azriel started, trailing off near the end.
"Hm... yes, I suppose I should tell that another time rather than now. It does get quite dark." Ambrose replied, looking off into the ocean waters.
"Okay, whatever makes you more comfortable right now." There was once again silence.
The next four hours of the trip were quiet.
~~~
OH LORD I'M GONNA HAVE TO WRITE YET ANOTHER PART TO THIS- SHIT GETS LONG.
ANYWAY- I hope you enjoyed this extremely late piece of writing. I've actually got plans on how the story is gonna progress from here, so stay tuned for that! Stay safe, do your homework, and DON'T DIE!
Alright bye :3
Story word count: 1347 words
Total word count: 1407 words