The cleansing of the iron bull

So morbid

It was a normal day, compared to what us Englishmen see normal as, in Mideast England. The birds chirped their song of peace and joyfulness, the leaves swayed, dancing in the wind, on nearby oaks, and the blue hues of the sky were swirled with the grey darkness of above clouds. We, the guards of the youngest Prince-the only Prince, were marching on and maneuvering among the stone passage way to the king's castle. Passing citizens stared, some with awe and the others with fear. Townspeople separated themselves away from our path; bowing their heads in honor as we passed by them. I glared down at one of the thin, wore down girls. Starring holes through her fragile body, for I knew this woman. This lady and I used to be very close, as close as the earth to the heavens. We were lovers at one point in our lives, but I caught her sleeping with another man. I asked his majesty to behead her however he thought it was wrong to kill women. Claiming that, "they have so much to offer". Yes, he was right-they offer themselves to any man that could please them. My eyes focused before me once and the castle could be seen in the mere distant. My friend called to me as we made our way up the blessed stairs, which led to the castle's main entrance, his voice a hushed tone.
"Are you prepared?"
"Yes, my dear friend, for we have been through this process many times."
"Many times indeed, my friend."
And with that we took our welcome inside the king's marvelous castle, in which he cared for with such a wonderful manner. We headed through the holy halls, through the dinning hall, and down into what was known as "the prince's fun room". The walls were engraved in stones, top to bottom. The floor was paved with the darkest of concretes. On the roof hung a few dimly lit lights. In the middle of the room stood the must god awful thing that has ever came into this world, created and carved from iron, wooden planks sat up in a triangle beneath the iron beast. All the guards stood and stared emotionlessly at the iron bull, also known as the young Prince's toy. We formed two uniformed lines, across from one another, from the bottom of the spiral stone steps to the iron bull in the middle of the room. My friend, the closest person I hold dear to me currently, grasped my hand tightly within his own. Cresting every callus with her rough fingers, his wedding band felt cold on my scarred palm. I tried my best to concentrate on his touch more so then the feeling of guilt that overcame my body for want was about to unfold once again before my own eyes. We all stood on edge, proper military stance, and my friend released my hand-arms by his sides- as the sound of the basement door opened.
"Move it you disgusting monster!"
I wish one day someone would say those words to the prince, for nothing could be more monstrous than he. There was some more shouting, screaming, and yelping.
"He must be resisting." Whispered my dear friend.
"Well, of course he is," I mumbled to him,"would you enter the room of your demise by your own true will?"
"Well of course not, friend, for I am not that brave."
I nodded at his word and then watched the events unfold before my eyes.
"I didn't do it! It wasn't me! I'm innocent!" The poor man's attempt to clear his name is pointless, for he will die guilty or not. The prince was brutal and sinister, spoiled by his father, he always gets what he wants-rather it me countless riches or plentiful deaths.
"You may plead as much as you, this punishment is unavoidable." The prince sounded pleased with the man's begging. He would enjoy seeing anyone break and tremble before him. He chuckled slightly when the royal guard slammed the weak man face-first into the cold, musky floor-grabbing a fistful of the young man's hair and pulling it. The tearing of the mans hair pulling out from his scalp mixed with the vocals of screams and yelps that came from within the pit of his throat. Chunks of flesh clanged to the strands of hair, hanging on with blood and dry flake. The prince snickered looking at the red fleshy patch on the man's head; it didn't take to long for his body fluids to saturate most of the hair he had left.
"You two, there, place him with the bull, you'll be responsible for the punishing process as well as the cleaning process. Do I make myself clear?" Asked his highness the utmost sickening posture. He looked quite ignorant compared to others, but this could not be true for he was taught by the highest quality scholars. One of his hands rested firmly against his hip, his opposing arm recklessly slouched over his shoulder-hand pressed against the back of his skull. He stood with one leg stiffened and the other outstretched with hardly any pressure pressed down into it. My stomach turned.
"Y-yes, sire." I mentally scolded myself for stuttering.
"Great, I'm glad you happy applied. It can be very exhausting, cleaning the iron bull after a punishment. It's like they never want to let go of the torment that they deserve well." His words dig a borrow of anger in my chest. He abuses his power to often. I look to my friend and nod towards the latch on the metallic beast of destruction as I started towards the accused. He was frightened, much like a wounded rabbit cornered by its captor. His eyes were wide and glassy, swollen from tears. I lifted him to his feet and began leading him down the path to his immanent demise. At this point he had quit resisting, retracting away from the darkness and pain that was, indeed, his own heart. He wanted to end the mess that he had become, him that became an awful mess. He would not look into my eyes let alone any living being in the room. His gaze drifted across the pavement beneath his feet; his lips were curved downward, carving a frown deep into his face, matching almost perfectly with the rest of his dark features. This man was engulfed in what seemed to be an eternal pit of despair and sorrow. He shuffled the soles of his bare feet across the floor, letting the rough and rugged flooring tug and tear at his tender flesh. As we approached the opening on the bull, my friend grabbed onto his other arm and we both pulled him up to throw him within the metal animal. He began kicking his legs the second they felt the absence of the pavement. One of his legs kicked me hard in my side, I ignored the slight pain, and then my dear friend and I slung him into the bull. A loud clanging was emitted when his body made contact with the bull's interior, beating up against the freezing metal. We both slam the door shut only for it to be stopped by the man's fingers. He screamed and pulled his hand in, tearing off thin strips of flesh from his hands and leaving behind a bloody residue. We could hear the man's sobs louder now because they echoed with in the bull.
"Start the fire."
When I turned to the Prince, I saw that he held a twisted smile on his face; his dark eyes matching his true intentions. Me and my friend stood for a moment or two before he decided to obey the young prince again. Of course there was no choice inside a room full of royal guards. Within seconds, morbid screams filled the musky atmosphere. They gurgled from his throat, clawing their way out like a sadistic animal. It didn't take much long before he began to claw at the latch with his fingernails. The smell of burning flesh smelt horrid, worse than any dump-field. The Prince laughed like a small child being entertained by a clown. I glared at him and to my luck he did not notice my look of disapproval. The man's horrid screeches overwhelmed my ears and they began to throb. It didn't take much longer for everything to stop. My dear friend helped my put out the fire. Every other guard had left and the only the prince remained, to give orders I expected.
"You two men will be in charge of everything that is to happen from this time and on." When he turned to leave I requested him to stay longer.
"Ah, but sire, surely you would enjoy seeing what mayhem you could create with a single order."
He smiled at me and my stomach churned with the utmost disgust of having such a terrible thing be pleased with me.
"All right, as you wish."
He approached closer to the bull, standing before to bull's entrance. When we and my friend opened up the latch the sight by itself was overwhelming. Melted skin was torn off from all over the man's body. A few of his nails stuck to the inside of the latch by blood and scorched flesh. His disintegrated muscles and torn ligaments made it possible for his intestines to seep out between his bones. Coagulated blood was spread all over the bull's interior. The stench was stronger than that of any dead rotting animal. The smell of charred human flesh was awful, sickening at the least. I tried my best not to hurl, no matter how many times I do this, I'll never get used to the sinister smell.
"Very nice, now you two-"
Me and my friend grasped tightly onto each of his arms.
"You'll just disappear. We'll clean you up with easy."
"Yes," spoke my dear friend,"don't worry thought, it'll be over soon."
The Prince began to struggle worse than any man has ever when it came to facing their own demise. He yelled for help, but it was useless since only me and my friend could hear his screams. The process, my dear friend and I had grown so used to, unfolded again. This time, it was us that were pleased when the screams started.