The Silver Cross - The Path Of A Monster (Book One)

Chapter Ten - The Execution

Cain watched eagerly as they led him out in chains. He had never seen his brother look so pale, blood droplets crusted on his cheek, his fangs reddened by the blood he'd consumed. He didn't lash out, he didn't seem to care, he just looked down at the ground and awaited his trial. They pulled at his chains like they were pulling a dog, all while silent, awaiting his execution. He looked down at the ground, not uttering a word even as they forced him to kneel before the moon, a knife at his throat, enough to weaken him, kill him possibly but it was not down to them, they were not to be his killers.

"Jack Partridge, you have been bitten and knowing our laws, you should have taken your own life before you turned. By your own hand, and the blood of another, you have allowed yourself to turn. For your crimes, you will be hereby sentenced to death, may God have mercy on your soul," a councillor stated as he walked past Jack, not once looking him in the eye, just passing a glance as if he was looking at something the dog had left behind.

They chained him down with silver, looking into his eyes with a cruel hatred, so sickening, so evil, only to find the blood red ovals matched the stain of evil they were thrown.

Hunters gathered as if it were a celebration, almost cheering as Jack knelt down, awaiting his death with such a look of defeat, pain. Cain stepped forward, his blade in his hand as it shook.

"Who here shall take your life in your place?" the councillor asked coldly as he grabbed at Jack's chin, forcing his head up. "The blood that's in your veins has made you, there's nothing but damnation for you now, but who shall do it? Which one of you shall pierce his heart?"

Many murmured, looking at each other as if it were a sport, making Cain's stomach turn and do summersaults within him. How could they? What were they thinking? How cruel could they be to one of their own? One they called a friend, a loyal follower of The Silver Cross, one they had just tossed aside like an old bone.

"Let me volunteer, I'll pump that creature full of silver, he'll be begging for death when I'm done," one whispered close to Cain. The tone told him that he was serious, that he was going to torture Jack to death.

Cain stepped forward, weaving through the crowds as he tried to approach Jack. The guards blocked his path, their blades acting like a barrier, crossed in front of him.

"Let me pass," Cain snapped.

"He must be destroyed."

"I volunteer my services," Cain replied, faking a disturbing smile.

"And why would you? You're his brother," the councilman snapped.

"I am his brother but Nicola is my wife, and I shall not allow her blood to linger in that... thing's veins."

"Allow him safe passage," the councilman ordered.

Watched like a hawk, he couldn't ask for them to clear out but it didn't matter, he just gently unsheathed his knife as guards forced Jack onto his feet. His duty outweighing the love for his brother, he swiftly plunged the knife into his chest, his ears deafened by the crunching of flesh, his clothes saturated with his blood as it pooled. The guards let him go, expecting him to lie there, to turn into ashes as the sun rose, if he hadn't died beforehand.

His comrades cheered, clapping as if he'd done something right, like sending such a thing to hell was a good idea. Cain imagined it made it easier to refer to Jack as it, a nameless, faceless former shadow of himself, with skin as white as a sheet, and red rubies in his eye sockets but all Cain could do was watch as Jack lay there still, calmly awaiting his death.

"May we meet again, brother," Cain whispered.

Anger scrunched up Jack's face with those words. He said nothing but his face said it all, even weakened by the silver it was still as monstrous as anything Cain had ever seen, like looking at the face of a monster... the monster whose life they took for Katie's.

Silence approached as the sheep followed their shepherd inside to the feast prepared for slaying such a creature, as if Jack wasn't innocent, as if he wanted to be a monster.

Lying to them all was a difficulty, punching holes in his lip became a common occurrence as people congratulated Cain, offering sympathy for completing such a task, for putting down the beast, as if he were a rabid animal out of control, with a lust for blood and killing but there was one noted absence, Nicola was nowhere to be seen, at his execution or the feast, not wanting to see the creature her blood had created.