(370)

He dragged me, upside down, head lolling limply, blind, tortured, and scantily clad, to His choice.

I smiled grimly as the gentle lapping of water reached my ears. Though I could not feel it, I knew that beneath me lay an entire field of soft, spiky grass, with pebbles and sand sprinkled upon it. I knew that in a few more steps, He would reach several stone steps which lead to a small dock, where a boat bobbed gently with the waves. I also knew that He would throw me into the water, and laugh as I inevitably drowned, for He knew that I could not swim.

The blindfold was torn from my eyes, and I gasped as light flooded in. I curled into a ball, whimpering, sobbing, every bit the terrified prisoner facing execution.

As we had expected, my execution would cut a grand picture. The first public execution of a war prisoner had to be theatric, dramatic, in order to temporarily satisfy those thirsting for blood. Previous deaths were dealt with in the privacy of the torture chamber.

He lifted me into the boat, and descended elegantly behind me, his wand poking into a fresh wound between my shoulder blades. He dug it in and twisted it, drawing blood but not a sound.

"So, this is where we stand," He smiled, revealing jagged teeth, "I'm ever so sorry you won't have a tombstone."

I stared defiantly into his slit-like eyes. "You will lose," I bit out, my voice harsh and cracked. The wind picked up and carried my words easily to the crowd watching the spectacle.

Half of them laughed, guffawing at my stupidity, while the other half gazed somberly at my battered body. What happened next, they knew, would change everything.

"Lose?" He whispered, "Oh, I think not."

Then he gave a flick of his wand, and I tumbled into the water. Ropes braided with stones and heavy bricks wrapped themselves all around me, dragging me down.

I couldn't hear the splash, nor his triumphant speech to his troops, but I didn't care.

I was half-dead, nearly dying, and desperately wanted to fill my lungs with air. But, did you know? Did you know that as I gently spun downwards, all I could see was you?

Your smile,

Your laughter,

Your embraces,

Your faith in me.

I knew that He would come back in a few days to fish my dead and bloated corpse out and display it for everybody to see. My body would be His trophy, proof of His triumph. It would be evidence that everybody had a weakness.

And everybody knew that I was hopeless at two things. Chess, and swimming. It was a well known, well publicized fact.

As I sunk into the darkness, I allowed myself a small grin. For once, knowledge would be His downfall.