One by one...bodies dropped from the platform with the weight of solid lead.
When one is executed...is that time of death...their true time of death?
Their feet would twitch, their hands would clench before slowly relaxing...the muscles realizing they were no longer in need of use...and the vessel shut down with a single SNAP!
If this organized thing called "the law" hadn't tampered with the life time of an individual, would death have taken a natural course? Was this the same thing as cold blooded murder, with a somehow rightful twist?
Hollow stairs echoed as feet pounded against it. Another vessel to be shut down. The rope secured around their neck, and the executor's large, calloused hands pulled the lever for the hundredth time that day.
Is executing a person...another way to cheat life out of its potential?
...
The crowd gathered in the dirt court yard. The looming brick walls of the prison seemed to close in on them, daring them to make any move. This large building, built to keep in the most dangerous of people, seemed to glare at all below it. The innocent, the guilty, and the innocent until proven so were all at its mercy.
For whatever happened within these walls, it was almost positive it would stay within the walls.
Soldiers marched outside, their boots stampeding as one rhythm.
Thump, thump, thump, thump.
Muskets clattered as they were cocked, strictly positioned at soldier's sides, ready to be used on anyone who would dare defy this strong, invisible power known as law.
The atmosphere was always thick here. Thick with blood, torture, inhumanity and death. Thick with minds becoming undone, the tainting of people's lives as the insane slowly ate them from the inside out. The rattle of chains were one of the few sounds that sliced through the thickness of the air. Perhaps someone was going to have a finger sliced off...or perhaps they were simply being moved to another cage.
Another sound that seemed to thrive in this Earthly hell was the sheer shrieks and wails of those who could not bear this type of life. The women who were sinfully charged for selling themselves on the street, the men who were desperate to simply take a breath of good air once again. The young children who cried for any comfort that had never been there in the first place. The elderly who mourned their loss of life long ago, and were simply waiting to perish with the dust.
It was all there.
No normal person would care to set foot in such a dirty, rotting, grotesque place such as this... But today was an exception.
There are always exceptions.
Two bare feet padded against the wooden platform. As soft as the noise was, as the feet hit the boards; first with the heel before rolling onto the toes to repeat the process, it seemed to echo in the large courtyard.
A pair of green, emerald eyes observed the crowd before him, sliding back and forth, searching for that one single face. No one else currently mattered.
The shackles against his wrists were tight. His wrists were raw and bloody, and salt from his sweat painfully seeped into his wounds.
What once were clean, respected clothes, were now somewhere close to tatters. Dirt and filthy things clung to the clothes, his skin, his hair. Once perfect, smooth, sun-kissed skin was now oily and blackened with dirt.
He continued walking on the platform, until his feet rested on the trapdoor which would mock him as it was ripped open.
His eyes gazed at the figure next to him.
A pristine, clean man. Blonde hair just washed, and the smell of soap drafting through his nostrils. Clothes starched and brand new.
Pearly white stockings, shiny new leather shoes with just polished buckles...a warm, blue cotton coat, and cuffs meant for the up-most important of people. The man's collar was snug around his neck, the cloth draping down from the knot. A few medals and stars were proudly pinned to the right of his chest, boasting of this man's importance.
He smiled as a scroll was slid open with much paler hands.
The prisoner watched in disgust.
"Antonio Fernandez Carriedo," the man sneered, lifting one of his obnoxiously large eyebrows in amusement, "You have been charged with piracy, attacking of the Royal British Navy, and six counts of escaping capture-"
"Seven. It was seven," the pirate hissed under his breath.
The other man frowned, but continued:
"...Escaping capture of the British Guard. Therefore you are indeed a fugitive on a number of seven counts... Due to these actions, you have become one of Great Britain's priority criminals. By law you are sentenced to death by hanging."
The scroll was put back into place.
Antonio snarled a bit as the rope was fastened around his neck. He quickly gazed upon the crowd one more time, eyes hungrily searching for that one single face...
The one with olive green eyes, a soft jaw, a perfect nose... Skin just a few shades lighter than his own. Smooth pink lips and hair a shiny, dark chestnut brown. A unique hair curl poking out of the left. He strained his neck to find it.
He searched the many faces one by one. Especially the ones with hoods. But to no avail... His heart began racing as the executioner neared the lever that would end his life... That single lever which would cause that mocking trap door to fall from under his feet, his weight slamming him down towards the ground only to be stopped by the rope that would surely snap his neck in half.
He had to see him one more time before his life would be dangling from that damn rope...!
Sweat began to bead at his hairline as the executioner's large hands began to reach for the lever. His throat was dry and he swallowed, still not being able to find him in the mix of the crowd.
"Scared, Mr. Carriedo...?" the English accented voice sung in his ear.
A bead of sweat drizzled down the side of his cheek as his eyes grew wide in plain realization. He wasn't here... Lovino wasn't here!
The only person he ever really cared for was not there for his last few minutes on Earth. Antonio's heart thumped against his chest, vibrating his rib cages.
A young man pushed his way through the crowd, as he bolted from the heavy doors. He shoved and screamed, ordering people out of his way as he struggled to reach the front row.
The lever was tightened by the large gloved hand.
Olive, watery eyes shot up at the figure on the daunting platform. A silhouette of a lean man casting over him. Lovino's breath ceased. He couldn't see all too well, as his tears were rushing down his hot and flustered face.
The man...he had been his and only his for so long... That warm, protective touch. Those strong arms which have killed grown men by themselves, wrapped gently around himself as if he were the most fragile thing on the planet. Sweet nothings whispered in his ear, the low rumble of his throat when chuckling in satisfaction. The happy cheery side that was only reserved for him... The darker, more known side used to protect him at all costs. The sweet (and annoying) pet names, the fiery passion, the warm lips, the wonderful nights dedicated to love...Lovino's other half...was just about to be taken away from him forever. Everything. His entire world that he had gotten so used to...was going to leave without anything he could do about it.
The only thing Lovino seemed capable of doing now...was to scream.
"Antonio!"
Antonio looked directly at him, an expression of shock and relief flooding his features. He smiled warmly and if not for the shackles, would have reached out to him in acknowledgement. Their eyes locked for the last time, and emotions were whizzing about in their little line of sight...
"Lovino..! I love-"
The lever was yanked down and the platform's trapdoor fell. Antonio gasped as the boards flew out from under him, his world suddenly crumbling. Lovino's scream of anguish was the last thing he heard before the rope dug into his skin, completely breaking his neck in half. In that instant, all lights were shut down.
He couldn't hear.
He couldn't breath.
He couldn't see.
It was just...cold...and black.
But somewhere...in the back of his mind, even though he was dead...he could say he lived a fantastic life.
Because he had the opportunity to love someone with all his well being, and have that person love him back with just as much fire and passion.
And it was strangely comforting for Antonio to know...that that person was the last thing he ever saw, before the blackness completely engulfed him forever.
Pirates of the Caribbean inspired this story right here :'D ...
Pfft. Not sure if it's too good.. But i edited a little bit of it. When I write stories, I can't ever tell if I'm capturing the emotions I want... :/ so pardon the lack of emotion if said lack of emotion is there.
BUT I'M SORRY FOR MAKING ANGST. I HATE READING IT SO WHY DO I WRITE IT. I USUALLY LOVE GOOD ENDINGS. AJSDLFAJSLKDF sorry!
Lovino is very mad at me for killing off his beloved Spaniard... and Spain is whining in the corner about being beaten by England ;n; ... spanish pirates are always sexier. PFFT.
But I hope I got what I was looking for with writing this. And sorry about the sentencing... That's probably not what it sounded like but I couldn't find any references.
THANKS FOR READING~! r&r
