He has to make sure they're watching. It's not a show without people watching.
He can't move his head, the confines of the guillotine are closed around his throat and jutting against it, causing him to gag slightly. The metal forced around his throat gives him a nearly sexual sense of pleasure.
Because it's exciting. Near death is exciting. Submission is exciting. Guillotines are exciting.
There's the roar of the crowd, now somewhat dulled in Archie's ears, and he can feel their eyes on him. Hundreds of eyes, all focused on him. Wondering why he's here. He's Archie Costello and he doesn't lose to anyone. So why is he losing now.
He gives a haggard smirk, one that no one can see because of how he's looking down. The slick, tacky brown of the floor is a sight that he thinks will always be swimming in front of his eyes after this.
Bannister's a sad, lonely kid. That he knows about him. He's a sad, lonely kid who pours all that out into metal and wood in the dark of his basement.
Obie's a sad, lonely kid too. He thinks he needs the things that Archie took away from him. That isn't true, though. Obie's feelings have become so pent up inside his skinny, pale body that he's starting to shrivel up beautifully, his soul crumpling up like paper.
If he does live-and he will live. Archie always lives-he'll make sure to take great pleasure in uncrumpling Obie's paper-thin soul and smoothing out all the creases, cooing to him and getting him back to where he belongs. An errand boy at his mercy, not his executor to be.
Part of him wonders if Obie can really do it, if he'll really press the button and bring the blade down on the soft, unblemished skin of Archie's neck. It's a stupid thought, because Obie isn't psychologically strong enough to do that. He couldn't watch the blood pour out, watch Archie's grinning face thud to the floor as the crowd screams.
Blood had always been something Archie enjoyed. It's so raw, so human. Violence is distasteful and brutish, but the aftermath...the aftermath of violence is something beautiful and hauntingly lacking of life.
He harbors the belief that death isn't any different from living. Just quieter. There's a strange peace to seeing people in that state of eternal quiet. Murders in the paper calmed him down as a child, especially if graphic photos were involved. His father had been horrified, but the idea that it was someone else that had died and not him allowed Archie to sleep peacefully at night.
Bannister's saying something now, presenting Archie's 'death' with a smile. Obie's there somewhere, probably smiling. Smiling because he's ready to kill Archie, he's so sure that it will work.
That's the fun thing, really. Cheating somebody out of something that they're sure of. It's dull if they're shaky about it or careless. It's true, the secret to outwitting Archie Costello is apathy. Just forget to care and you might, just might slip under his radar.
The key word being might. Archie never let anybody under his radar unintentionally.
He can hear Obie moving around somewhere behind the cold, metallic contraption, and lets out a small but audible whine. The more Obie thinks that he's beaten the ever charismatic Archie Costello into submission, the more pleasurable seeing him fail will be. He can feel Obie's grin on him and for a moment, a bit of panic rises in his throat. His neck aches from keeping his head elevated for a moment, and he quickly ushers the feelings away.
The blade goes down and Archie closes his eyes and smiles because he knows he's won.
a little drabble i found while cleaning out some stuff. i claim no ownership to the chocolate war.