Heavy chains cupped around his wrists. Pulling and yanking towards the metal bars that kept him in only made his wrists bleed. Already his blood from the hard yanking was dripping down his arm. Surely, this was his last day in this sickening prison.

Finally, he had been caught, caught from stealing. He had been a thief almost his entire life. Vir at last, gave up yanking on his heavy chains. There was nothing to be done. Only wait until tomorrow morning to be killed for his crimes. But, there actually, was another option, which Vir refused to do. Surrender to the men (he was in a prison in Gondor) and promise to never steal nor enter their lands again. Of course, his pride- like most people- got in the way and he answered no. Hearing this, he was locked up until tomorrow where he might be given another chance, or else he would be killed.

There was a small window with three metal bars near the top of the back prison-cell wall. It was far too small to make, even plan an escape. He could barely see the sun set and the morning sun rise – which was a sight he did not want to see. He presently shoved himself into a corner of the prison-cell, tucking up his legs to his chest and buried his face in his arms. Once- moments after he had buried his face into his arms- he noticed the now-dried blood stains on his arms. But he soon resumed his position, burring his face into his arms.

He sighed minutes later and looked up once again and gazed into the small view of the outside. It was almost dark. He didn't want to be killed, like any other person, but still he didn't want to ruin his pride. He was a criminal. He didn't want to be known as a coward. He was supposed to act tough, like nothing was wrong. But did that count when death was fifteen hours away? What was he supposed to do? Just sit and hope that the men would just free him? That was the only thing to do. He was very young. Not even thirty. Would they have mercy on him for his age? Probably not. He was a criminal, and just a criminal to them. But somewhere, there was still hope in his heart. Maybe there was some good in those people. After all, he didn't steal anything very important, simply money. But still, it was stealing.

Another sigh escaped Vir's lungs. He slid his feet out in front on himself. He looked down at his bloody arms and closed his eyes. He thought about what he had done with his life. Absolutely nothing but steal. He was raised like that, how could he know right from wrong? But now, he could think clearly. He didn't want to believe the thoughts inside of him. Yet, they were true. Now, his heart ached, and the prison-cell became pitch-black. He couldn't see anything; he couldn't hear anything.

Nothing.

Vir rested his head back against the stone wall. He remembered the cold expressions on his father's face. And sometimes the beatings he used to get. And the cries that would escape his lips when ever his father did this to him. Nothing could erase those memories from his mind. It was almost a joyful yet sad feeling when he was sent word that his father was dead. There would be no more beatings, no more lectures- at least from his father. But from then on, he wandered the roads, stealing. Just stealing.

He was ready to let go of those horrid memories. But he couldn't. They were almost apart of him, not like any other memory he had before. Those he could shut out and block, but this was different. Tears streamed down Vir's dirty face. He was going to bury his face into his arms once again, but he didn't want to. He didn't care if anyone saw him, yet no-one could, it was pitch-black. The only thing he could see, were the faint little stars. He had heard tales of those stars, one unparticular. He heard when he was a boy, in an inn when he was a wanderer, that one star was a light that had floated into the sky. But that was all he could get before he was noticed and thrown out. He had been treated so badly! Why? Why was he treated so badly? He was only a boy. So what if he stole? He was still a human-being!

Finally, the tears had stopped falling. He rubbed his cheeks, rubbing away the tears he had cried only moments ago. He sobbed. He didn't want it to end like this. A young man killed because of stealing. Surely there could have been a very different punishment. But death? A bit extreme for just stealing? But those thoughts didn't linger in his mind long for he was soon in a deep slumber. But it wasn't a long slumber; he woke up moments later with a jerk. He had expected for everything to be light, but it was still dark. Not even a little shade lighter. His heart ached still. He felt nothing could heal it. No, nothing could heal the aching of his heart. He was an outcast, at least, that's how he felt. He felt like he kept running away from himself. He was tired of running from the truth. He often told himself that stealing with okay, that it didn't matter what he did as long as he stole something. He was ready to face the truth. But such a change! In one tragic night, too. But nothing could be helped. Hours until death, and everyone's lives would go back to normal. No-one would care, everyone would be glad. But he didn't want that. Was it too late to change? Too late to change, not the past, but today? Tonight? The past was in the past now. This amazed Vir. In just one night, so close to death, he was changing. But yet, one thing held on; his pride. Was he ready to let go of that? His pride which he honored so much. Would he have to let all that go now? That was a thing he was not yet ready to let go of. Or was it? Now, his mind was mixed with so many different thoughts and emotions. They were swirling inside him like a hurricane; a beastly hurricane. Nothing could be helped now. He couldn't think straight, he couldn't move at all. He looked like he was a man who paused his life and couldn't un-pause it.

At last, he found he could move. He could actually think clearly. He felt like he wanted to cry, but he couldn't. He could see the sun slowly rise, which he didn't know how that happened because it was only begun to be pitch-black hours before. Except, that didn't matter now because soon they would come and get him and his life would end. But he didn't want that!

He took a deep breath as he heard footsteps coming nearer and nearer. When two guards had reached the prison-cell, the first thing they noticed was the blood-stained arms of Vir. Vir however did not look up at them. He looked forward until one of the Gondor guards had entered a key into a key-hole and the metal bars swung open. One guard entered inside the prison-cell. He slowly bent down with the key to let Vir's wrists free. He saw Vir's sad eyes as they gazed upon his face. He almost felt sorry for him, but a scared expression was the only one that showed. He kept looking down at the chains that were rapped around Vir's wrist. Vir at last said,

"I'm not going to hurt you, if that's what you're wondering." The guard- noticing that he had a scared look upon his face- stiffened up and unlock the chains from Vir's wrists. Standing up and grabbed Vir's elbow and yanked him upward.

"This way." His gruff voice didn't make Vir notice that the guard was any meaner than he appeared to be.

The second guard followed behind Vir with his spear ready incase Vir was going to try and escape. But he was actually surprised for he didn't. When they reached a long hallway, Vir could see the platform where he was to be killed. If looked very small from where he was now, but when he got into the open, he could see that it was very large. The sun was very bright than from what Vir remembered. It had only been a day since he was outside. The breeze felt so good on his face and skin. But nothing could change how he really felt inside. He felt broken, and confused, and alone, and sad. These were things he, in fact, hardly or never felt before in his life.

To his surprise, there were a lot of people sitting down. Did they all watch to see him die? Did they have to heart to see a man be killed by a sword? He sighed as he was brought onto the platform. He saw a large muscular man with a curved very sharp blade covered in blood. Surrender, that's all he had to do!

Just say it! You clumsy fool! Just say, "I surrender." Everyone's watching you. Just say it! You clumsy fool! Just say those simple words! Ugh… You do want to live don't you!? Your life is more important than your pride! You idiot!

That was the fight that was going on inside Vir's head. But he couldn't bring himself to say those simple words, "I. Surrender." The muscular man flipped his sword into the air, caught it, and grabbed Vir by the shirt and thrust him down onto the platform onto his face, causing his nose to start bleed.

I..I.. I Surrender…

But before Vir could squeak the words out of his throat, the muscular man threw his arms into the air, and thrust the sword onto Vir's neck. And Vir was no-more.

That night, Vir's head and body were carried away, only leaving the large blood-puddle from earlier that morning.