Four exist within a room as the colour fades from each face, turning from their natural pale skin to almost a blue, as their moments are spent in freezing agony. The one with power sat above them, his hand against his elevated knee as his sight wavered around the room, breathing out in small forms to see his own breath form from his mouth like a child would. He let out a quiet snicker and looked down to the three once again, breaking the tension in the room and filling the room more.
"Human life, it's an intriguing concept. Do you not agree? Place yours into account. He who rules all has graced you with this life, allowing you to run rampant however you please. However, it is all but him who chooses your sentence." The man had muttered. He was soft spoken, seemingly too calm for this role. Whatever led him, was a complete mystery. He half pulled the trigger, enough for the initial click to go off, as a quiet chuckle managed to escape from his lips. Instantly silencing himself, his chuckle quickly became him sighing audibly, seeming from their very minor encounter, the three who knelt in front of him seemed to be nothing other than an annoyance he was forced to put an end to. Spread across his face seemed to be glee, a unique sensation when in this situation, giddily looking up and down at each of their disheveled and distraught faces. Where most would naturally end the job quickly, the executioner seemed to have a plan set itself down internally, as he took a deep breath and seemingly lost himself in thought. after what must have been the longest 10 seconds in the three victims' life, he finally let himself speak once again."Allow me to recite something, presuming you don't mind of course. I would hate to not have your permission in these last fleeting moments." He spoke in a deep, cold, hollow voice. Nothing about him seemed to be human at first glance.His victim tried to scream back for forgiveness, unaware of whatever their situation was about to be. Stains of their own tears falling down his cheeks and smacking against the floor. A puddle had begun emerging from where he knelt. However, it was of no use, his fate had now been sealed, with no way to even begun undoing it within this situation. With no prayers left, desperation had emerged. Burning marks of agony against his wrists from where he attempted to free himself had set in, whilst gagged at the mouth in order to avoid screaming for forgiveness just yet. All hope had vanished into thin air, turning from prayers of their own health, into sorrow. Chances of hope turned into tears of acceptance.
Of course, others in this exact predicament reacted differently. On the left, tranquility. He kept silent through the entire execution. Standing strong to set a good example for the two in a more dangerous spot. He had given in. Not a sense of panic, sorrow, malcontent. In his last moments, he was merely a husk of what once belonged. Exchanging glances with the gun-holder from time to time as if telling him to hurry and finish what his life had led him to. Many things flowing through his brain as his captor spoke down at them. Past experiences with his comrades, the family he decided to abandon, everything he had once loved, thrown away. He was prepared, and willing to lose everything to give them the life he envisioned.
Of course, the opposite reaction will be held. On the right, there was no glimpse of relaxation or acceptance in the slightest. After what had seemed like years to him, he had run out of breath to fill the room with, only managing to let out whimpers in pain and denial. His voice was now too hoarse to even make a noise, other than a gasp for his own breath. However, to no avail. Beaten, bloodied, and with a crimson pool drenched into the ground around where he knelt, all there was now, was to wait and accept his fate. What was once an ice white tee, sullied into a harrowing mix of gray and red as a permanent mental etching of what he had endured.
He who stood above them began monolouging once more. Moving his barrel from the central's temple to his back pocket and overlooking the three, a sick and twisted sense of relaxation spread over his face. "The good are lost young, their memory never dies. So, why am I here?" he asked as if genuinely confused by his own conundrum. moving behind each individual and removing their rags, the screams could be heard even louder now, bar one. The rightmost had remained silent. He turned his to face his captor with a hint of questioning on his own face. The gun seemed to have entered his hand yet again training itself on the loudest of the three. That set the tone yet again. In his own mind, he who stood tall had all power, repercussions would of course fade into existence if authority was questioned, however in some situations, what could be questions may seemingly never come to fruition. Silence soon overtook the room once a warning shot had been fired, singeing the frail hairs on the rightmost. The one with power had his expression turn from one of relaxation, to that of smugness and calmness. He placed the gun completely against him yet again, almost feeling his heartbeat through the ground. A stress induced heart attack due any second. "Tell me, why do you believe we're still here?" All panic seemed to fade away as he fell hollow. All that managed to be said in those few fleeting moments was simple, yet the hardest set of words the man had to say in his entire life.
