Antonio looked up as his cell was opened for the first time in weeks. Two guards lifted him to his feet and pushed him out of the cell.
He wasn't surprised when he was lead into some large, dark room instead of outside for his execution. They wouldn't want what happened last time to happen again. He had seen very few executions done indoors because of the mess, but he supposed he was an acception.
The room had a very high ceiling and was very grey aside from the blood deposits on the dirt floor. They must have been on the bottom level if the floor in this room was dirt. There was a large wooden block in the center that was stained red. He looked around at the guards in the room. There were eight total, plus an executor yeilding a dull looking axe. He knew they had sharper axes than that.
He was surprised that Augustine wasn't there. He thought that out of everyone who would want to see him dead, Augustine wanted to see it most. But he probably had some innocent people to slaughter somewhere else.
"On your knees, Carriedo."
Antonio didn't fight. He obeyed the heavy command.
He still hadn't accepted his death, he had simply accepted that it was in the process of happening. He tried not to think about the pain or the afterlife. As long as he kept his mind from wandering in that direction, he would die sane and peacefully. But to think that he wouldn't be seeing anyone again. These were the last people he would see.
He pushed those thoughts away. He wouldn't be thinking about these. He tried to clear his mind of everything as a hand pressed his head onto the wooden block. Two guards wrapped a chain around his neck and held him in place. He didn't have the energy to pull away either way. IF he did pull away, he would probably still be hit, it would just be in a different place like his skull or shoulder and the pain would be even greater. Moving wasn't worth it.
He could hear someone reciting verses from the Bible somewhere off in the distance. He didn't pay attention. The words blurred together.
He heard the executor at his side. The axe dangled in front of his eyes, swaying back and forth, back and forth, taunting him. He prayed to God that this would be quick and painless.
When the Bible verses were finished, Antonio heard the book shut along with a door. Now there were murmurs from the guards in the room.
"Are you ready?"
"Yes," the executor said. There was a click from somewhere in the room from something that sounded like a sword returning to it's holder. Though a little lighter.
The axe was no longer beside his eyes. It was being raised, he thought, from the way that the executor was grunting. Antonio squeezed his eyes shut and muttered frantic prayers under his breath.
Each sound resonated in the room. The sound of the axe cutting through the air, the sound of the axe hitting, and the dull sound of a head rolling onto the stone floor.
To Be Continued . . .
Forgive me for making such a short chapter. I thought it was fitting for the given situation.