it's a really sad story but it's written entirly in someone's perspective. guess who.
all characters belong to mark walden (unfortunatly)
I am about to die; I never thought it would end this way. I'd always evaded
death, but this time was different; I would get no salvation here, no second
chance. No burst of sudden energy. I was spent. I could do no more.
I
glance down at my watch. 5 minutes, until the end, until I die. In some ways,
I'm embracing death, like a fashionably late friend, a book long overdue. And I
am absolutely terrified about the whole thing. After all, it's not above an
assassin to fear death, even though they dish it out with relish?
I close my
eyes and try to slow my breathing and the beating of my heart as the man in
black come to collect me and leads my away at gun point… I will not cry… I do
not filch when he binds me to the wooden post in the fenced off area, tying my
hands behind me; the knots were so tight they were cutting into my wrist; my
hands felt wet and sticky with blood. No doubt rumour of my strength has reached
his ears.
The only time my eyes open- and it's only briefly- is when the
first note of Big Ben's tune is played, and they time of my execution is almost
upon me. I cannot help thinking, "which shot will it be? Will it be a quick
painless one I don't even see, or the big brutal one up front?"
These
thoughts fly through my head as my hidden radio in my ear crackles to life and
his voice comes through. "They're here, standby for retrieval."
I smile as
Big Ben's tune finishes and the first mournful toll sounds, as if it knows about
the execution, as if it's going to be broadcasted to the clock tower as well as
to every citizen's TV in the world. I speak; my voice a little more than a
strained whisper, "I'll meet them in hell, just as I'll meet you again there
some day."
"I love you Max."
The last strike, the 12th strike, the time
has come.
I hear- and see- everything; the click of rifles as they click off
the safety, the barrels raised.
"Ready…" the lead gunman's voice echoes in
the early noon time. Finally, finally, a tear rolls down my cheek.
I breathed
deeply repeatedly, wanting to inhale the last smells around me.
"On my
mark…"
"Goodbye Max." the goodbye, the voice of farewell gets stuck in my
throat as more tears spill down my cheeks in a waterfall. I remember the tune he
played for me. Every tear drop is a water fall.
I clench my hands tight, girt
my teeth and squeeze my eyes shut tight.
"Natalya, NO!"
"Mark!"
The
thunderous band, the muzzles flash as one and a thousand bullets fly towards me.
There fleshy thuds and all went silent.
The Raven had flown…..
hope you liked it. if you didn't guess, it was from ravne's perspective. please r&r. thanks
