Markiplier: Once Upon A Time

The Mark Hatter Is Dead

The new cell Mark was moved to was on top of the highest, most visible tower on the palace. It wasn't even a cell, but instead a cage hanging on a chain being held out above a drop that would kill whomever was in the cage, should it ever drop.

Mark swallowed his fear, his arms shaking in their shackles. He had no hope left for his life. He was going to die an innocent hatter. He was going to die for sure.

He gazed out across the village below that lay just outside the palace walls. People were bustling about, appearing as ants so far below. The sun was sinking now, every once of shadow growing across the metal flooring of his cage marked the nearing end of Mark's life.

"I don't understand why this is happening..." Mark mumbled, his cage shaking. "There are roughly fourty people in the world that look like you, and the one I know happens to be evil."

It was around three o'clock when Mark was taken down and told he was going to be paraded around the city. The guard in charge of taking Mark to the head of the parade gave him a piteous glance before yanking him through the palace gates and into the busy street.

The shouts of civilians were deafening. Mark's ears were ringing as he tried to block it out. Cheering for the capture of an evil tyrant pricked the ears of the innocent hatter.

"THE MAD HATTER HAS BEEN CAUGHT!!"

"I heard he eats children."

"He's a monster. Can't wait for the beheading!"

Only bits of what people were saying made it to Mark's ears. He winced every time someone said the word 'monster'. He was innocent, yes, but there was no need in trying to shout it. He, unlike the creature that caused this mess, had an ounce of common sense inside of him. This is what prevented him from madness.

The herd of guards, priests, and some sort of official looking man led Mark through the pulsating heart of the city. People jeered and threw things, which the escorts welcomed with hearty laughter.

And finally, Mark saw it. His demise sitting polished on a giant wooden stage. The blade of the guillotine was sharp and reflected the hot evening sun into Mark's already bloodshot eyes. It had a regality to it, almost as if to say, "You know who I am, and your fright pleases me."

The chains yanked the prisoner up the creaking wooden steps and onto the platform that held his fate. A man in all black clothes stood. Unlike if this were a hanging, his face was exposed. He couldn't have been more than twenty seven, Mark thought as he glanced at the man.

"I'm supposed to say that I'm sorry for having to do this, but I'm honestly not," the man said.

"I understand," Mark replied.

A guard shoved him down so he was on his knees in front of the guillotine. The audience began to fall silent as everyone waited patiently to hear what was going on.

"Attention everyone!" The shrill voice of the Queen caused heads to turn away from the culprit. She was sitting in a sort of box attached to a stone structure. When she continued, Mark winced.

"We caught the scum of this earth that wrought his evil on our kingdom!" Cheering filled the silent air. The Queen spoke once more. "And I know I speak for all of us when I say that he must be sentenced to death! But death, in my opinion, isn't bad enough!"

The uproarious cheering and applause could have driven Mark mad right then and there. It wouldn't have been shocking if his head spun 'round or if he began shrieking like a banshee. It was maddeningly, deafeningly, painfully loud.

A million and one thoughts swirled through his mind as he finally came the the full, solid realization that he was about to die. It wasn't a game like he played as a child. It wasn't some sort of prank. He wasn't in a play or movie. This was real. Very soon, the blade of the guillotine would fall, and Mark would be erased from the world forever. And there was nothing in the world that could stop it.

Within the next couple of seconds, he found his head being thrust down into the wooden crook where the top piece swiftly clamped down. His wrists were uncuffed, relieving the pain for only a few seconds before they were jammed into another wooden binding along side the head. He groaned a painful protest. Why couldn't it be death by chocolate?

The crowd was all quiet now, awaiting the finally to this wonderful show. Mark craned his neck, trying to look up at all the people from his horrible position. The crowd went back farther than he could see.

'Why on earth would you want to come all this way to witness something you can barely see?' Mark thought to himself. He sighed, hoping this would be over soon enough.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the crowd quieted down and turned all their attention to the stage. The man in charge of the guillotine smiled at the crowd.

"Do you have any last words prepared?" He asked. Mark blinked in complete confusion. A last words? He had last words? He didn't prepare for this. Shit.

His mind raced. He strained against the shackles, trying with every ounce of his fading strength to scratch the itch on his forehead. He racked his brain for something to say, but what came to mind was not that great. Unfortunately, he found himself unable to hold it in, and so spoke freely and, to some degree, unwillingly.

"I can't believe you're all so thick that you can't see that I AM NOT HIM! The murderer you search for is still roaming freely about the palace!"

The crowd erupted into hateful jeers. The words stung Mark's ears. Not because they were painfully hurtful, but instead because it was so loud. The Queen began shouting at the crowd until they stopped making any noise.

"Let the swine finish," she said. The crowd, begrudgingly, listened.

"The monster is still loose!" Mark continued on his cue. "I'm the wrong man, and you'll learn that. You'll learn that you killed an innocent man when the next explosion hits. When the tradgedy strikes and the bodies fill graves too full to bury, you'll know. And I prey to every god above, below, and anything in between that it won't happen soon."

And now, it was time.

Marks head hung heavily on his shackled shoulders. Cheering filled the air as the man started to grab his ax from the ground next to the guillotine. Cutting the rope would, for everyone else, mean the end of terror.

Mark forced himself to stare out at the crowds of people. The tears pooled in his eyes and he tried to hold them back. As much as he hated all these people, it hurt more to know they were all in horrible danger.

He gazed at the sidelines of the crowd. No one seemed to notice the Mad Hatter standing there with a remote in his hand. But Mark did notice. He wanted to shriek and let out a warning. The Mad Hatter's finger hovered above the red button, a toothy grin plastered on his pasty white face.

Mark went to let out a noise if true terror, but the sound of the rope being sliced gave clear indication it was too late. As the blade slid down, the Hatter slammed his finger down on the button.

The explosion tore through the side of the palace. Heads turned from watching the exicution. Mark died quickly and relatively painlessly. The last thing he saw was the smile on the Hatters face, the light of destruction playing in his eyes. And then everything went dark and silent, the screaming of the innocent fading out all too quickly.

End