The Untitled Chronicles of Unwanted Heroes

Delilah

The prison was dirtier than I remembered. After three months of isolation with only a few blissful minutes with Theodore mixed in, I felt like I was going insane. The rest of our friends where gone, I never expected to see them again at that point. The metal handcuffs that bound my wrists like too tight bracelets bit my soft skin and I could feel warm blood blooming under the cold steel. I hadn't noticed how disgusting the floor was until that day. How the dark brown color of it was created by a sticky substance that I didn't want to discover the source of. The specks of sporadic bursts of color made me sick to my stomach. I knew where it all came from, the depths of the horrified stomachs of other inmates. They were as scared as I was. And just as I had, they left their marks on this God forsaken place. But my marks were soon to be forgotten as I had been sentenced to death only a few hours ago.

They dragged me along like a child would drag their doll across the floor, careless and unknowingly rough. I wouldn't miss their pitch black uniforms. Over the past few months those black rags always seemed to spark a fire of fear deep inside my heart but now I was numb of all feeling. I didn't care. I knew how they would do it, I'd seen it happen before. Quick and painful was their favorite method. They wanted other prisoners around to watch as well, just to show them what would happen if they used their abilities for the wrong reasons. It was unnecessary. They others were already too scared to do anything in the first place. I regret nothing, except leaving Theodore. That I can never forgive myself for.

They made me stand on the podium like a piece of art on display. In a twisted way, I kind of was. I was the contorted image of freedom, molded into the last hopes of anyone in my same position. I was no longer a prisoner of my own power. I was finally free again. I took in what felt like the first breath in nine months as they put the rope around my neck. They didn't cover my face like the others, I'd requested to see the faces of what was now my family. I blinked tears out of my eyes violently. I wanted to go out the same way I came in, angry and defiant. There was no sign of Theodore which I was grateful for. He didn't need to see this.

"November third," a man yelled, I refused to look at him, "this is the final stand of Delilah Jane Rosmarian. We hope you have made your final goodbyes."

I nodded surveying the crowd. A few people understood and the rest would soon come to the realization of what my purpose was in this horrible place. As I was scanning the group of prisoners and guards I saw a shock of jet black hair dart in and out of my sight. I tried to hide the terror on my face as Theodore's small frame cast an enormous shadow on the brick walls surrounding the execution sight. No, I thought frantically, he can't do anything anymore. It's too late to stop this.

I was happily mistaken. I heard the creak of a lever being pulled and the ground dropped out from under my feet. I was falling. But then I wasn't. I was dying. Tears finally blurred my vision as the rough rope tightened around my neck. I clawed at the skin with my hands, even though I knew it was useless. Giving up would be the best choice. This was the end of Delilah Jane and I was okay with that. Black dots seemed to be inhaling my perspective. I gasped for air that I knew didn't exist to me anymore. I only stayed for two seconds more to watch Theodore push the executioner off of his throne of power and cut the rope suspending me off the ground. I fell to the dirt floor like a rag doll. I couldn't see or breathe or think anything except for they were going to kill me before, but now they're going to get him too.