Certainly Fooled

Prologue:

The cold bitter air devoured away at Alexei's heaving lungs as he sprinted through the crowded market place; dodging people like lightning as he manoeuvred through the thick snow clinging onto his heels.

“Stop that thief!” Guards roared behind him, kicking some innocent shoppers into action; only to be wrestled down to the ground by the 15 year old thief. The snow peacefully drifted down from the dark sky, disregarding the chaos being caused down below; enjoying this chilly, bitter morning. Alexei's eyes shot from one building to the next, finding a suitable one to scale; one that would not feebly crumble to the ground after being touched. Locating his target, Alexei picked up his tired pace; refusing to give in, resilience pumping through his fiery veins. Behind him, the extremely unfit guards dragged on behind him, long iron swords drawn and flintlock pistols aimed, like drunken sailors. The screaming had as much resilience as Alexei, spreading from one person to the next; a scorching fire running through a field of dry grass.

Extending his steps, he ran straight towards a wall, leaping up at it, raising his leg onto the wall; exerting pressure and kicking up almost 3 metres, executed like a machine. Hoisting his body, that screamed as much as the terrified crowd below (only with ache, not fear), he continued his snaking path through the town. Roaring in agony, his body threatened to give up. His mind caned his body back into its place, forcing it to carry on; leaping between each building to the next. An old shack stood weakly in front of Alexei, leaping onto it regretfully – His mind too busy forcing his body to carry on to look in where it was going. The wooden roof crumbled to the floor, Alexei's ears ringing, blood slithering down his forehead. “Shit”, he whispered, wiping away the cold blood calmly strolling down his freezing forehead. “You! Stop!” Finally, the guards have caught him – His bad luck, no doubt. Dragging the young boy out of the wreckage, they disappeared into the snow, melting into the city; carrying Alexei with them.

Alexei's eyes wrenched open, exploding into a spasm of thoughts: 'Where am I?', 'What am I doing here?', 'How do I escape?'. These thoughts were quickly extinguished as he felt something familiar being hooked onto his neck. Looking around he could see five other people, all older than him, stood awkwardly on a wooden platform, erected off the muddy ground. A hoard of blood thirsty peasants eagerly positioned at the front of the erected platform; cheering for death – Who was stood at the end of the platform, waiting to take away his next victim. Alexei (being too short for his noose) was positioned on a stool to allow the executioner to install his noose, giving him a plain advantage. From the looks of it, they had also seemed to have run out of rope to bound him with, and deeming him a lesser threat had neglected to tie up his legs. Instantly, a plan was formulated within his young brain. He knew what he had to do. The snow had left after seeing what was about to unfold, refusing to watch as Death took away a few of todays victims. Looking down at his feet, Alexei positioned two of the chair legs very slightly off the platform that gave way when the executioner pulled his rope, ever so slightly, exerting pressure on those two legs. The crowd cheered angrily, motivating the executioner to deliver them to death already. A fancily dressed man stood at the corner of the platform next to Alexei nodded, then, within that second, the platforms gave way. Forcing pressure onto the stood legs, Alexei did not fall, being suspended in mid-air while the others met their fate: Death

His brain automatically took action, swinging his legs up towards to top of the rope, into an upside down position. Swinging one of his free legs, he severed the rope at the top; falling down onto his shoulder, into a roll, on the erected wooden platform. Still bound at his arms, Alexei hooked the stool onto his foot, launching it into the face of the executioner, who stumbled back in pain. Swiftly, he brought his bound hands under his legs, onto his front side, moving over to the fancily dressed fellow and bringing the rope to his neck – Just like they had done to him. The executioner, after seeing what was going on, picked up his blooded axe (that he uses for beheading), that serves Death, and slowly walked over towards Alexei. Headbutting the fancily dressed fellow, he doubled over, forming the perfect foothold for Alexei. Raising his leg, he flew off his back like a spring, just in time for the executioner to swing his axe. With machine like accuracy, the bloody axe came just close enough to cut his bounds, that wrapped his bleeding hands together like glue. 'Snap'. The fibres in the rope melted away, freeing Alexei's hands. Flying over the head of the executioner, as his axe buried into the splintering wood, he landed continently on the edge of the platform; in time to see guards being called. Grabbing hold of the rope that had once imprisoned his bleeding hands, he shot forward, strangling the executioner like a snake; now tasking the rope to imprison the executioners neck. Air attacked at this throat, trying to get down to satisfy the executioners attempt of screaming. No good. His hands went loose, dropping the heavy, blooded axe to the ground. Kicking over the body, Alexei continued his running, refusing to turn around at the chaos he had, yet again, caused. “Never be fooled by appearance!” He shouted triumphantly, “You never know what you might be messing with!” With that, he dissolved into the beautifully pure, white landscape, that welcomed him home...