Her arms being pressed to her sides by two brawny guards; gagged so tightly the scarf had spilt her lip; the blood trickling down her chin warmly; the fear enveloping her whole being; every muscle strained to the point of ripping in terror.
She watches the man pull two lighted candles from oblivion, and wave them in her face.
"Listen, you brat!" He steps in her face and forms the words with surgical precision. "You are trespassing." He spins away from her biting gaze and orders to the guards, "Bring the prisoner."
She is lifted off the ground a few inches. She points her toes, scrapes the ground with her toes (someone has forgetten to bind her ankles), and relaxes every muscle in her body; wills it to release tension.
The guard jabs her with his meaty finger. He smacks her, opening her freshly clotted lip, spattering the opposite guard.
The leader skips down the hall, holding the candles high, like torches. A guard calls ahead nervously, "Uh, sir?"
The man halts. "What?" he groans, aggravated. Gulp. "I think she's unconscious." He lifts her chin, smacks her, smacks her twice, and smacks her thrice.
She holds still, waiting. The leader begins marching again. He pauses in an archway, a portal to another world.
A carvern full of outcasts, Gypsies, beggars, cripples, and other various scapegoats of society mill about. In the split second the man takes to survey his kingdom, she lances out a foot and hammers him in the back of the neck.
He falls on all fours, hissing. Her arms twist out of the guards'. She speeds away, body on edge; letting the primal escape urge consume her. A sandal sails into shadow, but she isn't playing Cinderella.
Faster, her being screams. Her lungs, hauling in air, ache like well-weathered rags. The square of velvet night, the lantern stars invite her, draw her in with their chant of freedom. Safety is a scant four feet in front of her.
She bowls over the man. He grabs her wrist and hangs on. She pulls. "Let me go!" He watches her struggle with amusement.
"I was going to let you go, but after that crime, I'm afraid you'll have to die." Her eyes bounce open in terror. "But I haven't done anything wrong!" He shook his head, and holds the back of his neck with the other. "You have now."
She uses her feet as a balance while she tries to pull away. "Let me go!" The more time goes by, the more she sounds like a frightened, lost little girl. He tightens his hold, scoops her up, and has the guards knock her unconscious.
She opens her eyes upon a horrible scene: the view from the hanging platform. The people throng to see her die. The man, dashes about singing, flashing off his flourescently bright clothes. Suddenly, the man gestures to her. "Any last words?"
She howls, "I loved him!" The man looks at her. "That's not what you're supposed to say! Hey, where's your gag?" She glared icily. "Oh, you don't have one, huh?" He continued the song, and at the end, she yells.
"Stop!" He pauses, and she yells, "I was abandoned at the altar! You can't kill me for being angry and getting lost!" The man grins mischeviously, and answers, "Yes, we can."
With that, he slowly drops the platform, and watches her choke, laughing happily. Her last thoughts are...
You know, he's kind of cute...
Back to the Masterpieces, or back to the Shrine!