May I Burn In Hell
Summary: This is a one-shot about Captain Wilkins thoughts on following Colonel Tavington's orders. I always thought this part of the movie was the saddest. R & R please.
"Ready to fire the town on your order sir," Wilkins addressed the colonel.
"The town?" He looked slightly amused at Wilkins' misunderstanding. "Burn the church."
Wilkins almost didn't believe his ears. "There's no honor in this."
Tavington didn't like to be questioned or disobeyed. "Didn't you say all those who stand against England deserve to die a traitor's death?" He paused staring his subordinate down. Tavington enjoyed throwing the man's words back at him. "Burn the church, Captain."
Captain Wilkins never thought that Tavington's cruelty could reach such heights. He could feel the man's eyes on him as he took the torch from a nearby soldier. He stared at the church, every part of him knowing this was wrong in every way. He'd lived amongst these people. There was no reason for this senseless killing and in such a violent way. Taking their livelihood was one thing, but taking their lives was another matter. It wasn't his place to murder innocents, especially women and children. His hand gripped the wood tightly as he heard them trying to get out as the door was locked and the shutters closed up.
Without thinking Wilkins drew back his arm and watched the torch fly to the rafters and saw the flame immediately flare to life. As soon as it left his fingertips he regretted it, wishing that he could take it back. More torches soon followed as soldiers went around and made sure there wouldn't be much left. Already the place was lighting up like firewood. Hideous shrieks found their way out from inside. He'd caused it. And there was banging as they fought desperately, and futilely to escape.
His mind tried to imagine what it would be like to be in their place and he just couldn't fully grasp it. He'd never felt the terror of certain death, let alone certain death that promised to be excruciating. The air would be heavy with smoke burning his lungs with each breath he drew. And his eyes would sting from the smoke and tears. Then the heat would make coherent thought impossible as his skin became parched and begging for a cooler temperature. What would it be like to stand beside your friends and family, knowing you were helpless to save the ones you love while unfeeling bastards wait outside and watch?
"The honor is found in the ends, not the means. This will be forgotten," Tavington assured him.
Wilkins turned to look at the colonel taking no comfort in his words. If anything he felt worse at hearing those words. He continued to watch Tavington as he rode away completely oblivious to the suffering he'd ordered and the lives he'd condemned. His attention was wrenched back to the burning building as the hungry flames licked at living flesh causing the screams to rise to a fevered pitch. The firelight flickered across his face as he watched in disgust and guilt at what he'd done praying he'd be numb soon.
Silently he cursed himself for his weakness and stupidity. He damned his soul and Tavington's for good measure, as he heard the dying cries of the innocent. He knew that his act of treason could go no further. This was the height of his betrayal. He waited for the last scream to die before he wheeled his horse around, turning his back on the dead. His heart felt as if a part of him had died with the townsfolk.
When it is my turn to die, I can only hope it is not an easy one. And may I burn in Hell for my crimes today.