Gallows

It was the start of a new day, the day that one old man would lose his life. His swollen, bloody feet stumbling to take the next step, forced to walk at a fast pace. Blindfolded, all he had was his sense of hearing. Hearing the chatter of the crowd, gathered around to watch the event occur right before them. Two men, fully clothed in black, had a white knuckle grip on both of his arms at an awkward angle. The crowd just watched with their eyes glued to the three men as if they had nothing better to do. The two men took the first step of five, dragging the helpless man, carelessly to the top. The man’s body sank as his foot hit the first step, knowing his fate was at the top. Finding no use, the old man let his body fall limp, his knees hitting the second step.

Leaving a trail of blood behind them as they finally reach the top. The old man sat on his knees waiting for them to get it over with. The men let go, as one ripped off the old man’s blindfold, his eyes filling up with bright white light. Being blinded he closed his eyes fast not ready to look into the eyes of his fellow neighbors and friends.

Trying to speak his words only came out as mutters, “J-J-J... Jus... just... do... it.” he was finally able to get out. One of the men took off their black gloves to his right hand, revealing his paper white skin. Slowly he raised his hand to chin level, coming down with a gust of wind between his fingers. Making contact with the old man’s cheek with a loud smack, leaving a red mark after his hand retreated and the glove was put back into place.

“You were not told you could speak, only speak when spoken to!” the other man yelled in the old man’s face. Residence of spit laid on the old man’s brow, not looking the other men in the eyes. He opened his eyes looking down at the worn wood that belonged to the centuries old gallows standing sturdily before him. Not saying another word, he slowly looked up with a noose swinging in and out of his vision. The noose already adjusted to the previous victim before him.

A black hand came into view grabbing the noose and bringing it down to his neck. Feeling the individual thread tighten around his neck, forced to finally stand up, having the pressure of the rope around his neck increase. He looked forward, making eye contact with his friend seeing the anger written across their faces.

He closed his eyes once more having the feeling of free-falling, coming to an end quickly. The old man’s body jerked to a sudden stop, hanging motionless. The crowd fell silent as they watched the life drain out of the old man’s body. Loosening the noose, his body fell to the ground. They watched as the executioners started to clean up the mess left behind, one of the men in black walked down the blood painted steps to the lifeless man. He bent down slowly touching the man’s neck trying to find a pulse... nothing. He took a hold of the old man’s wrist beginning to drag him out of the view of the crowd.

Not even moving a foot the man opened his eyes and began to speak. “I told you I wouldn’t be that easy to kill,” in his raspy soft voice. The executioner jumped letting go of the man’s wrist, “How are you still alive?” the man asked as he took a step back, not sure what to do. The other executioner didn’t think another second, he leaped off of the gallows, landing on the old man making sure he wouldn’t get away that easily. The crowd just watched in horror and confusion, was this all just a big play happening right before our eyes. They all asked themselves as they took a couple steps back giving the men some room. The man held onto the old man’s brittle body like it was a fast swarming serpent trying to get away. The old man just laying there not even trying to get away, as a wicked smile writes across his face, starting to chuckle mysteriously…