The Murder King (A First Draft)

In Which Our Story Becomes An Ouroboros

December 23, 2012 

        The day of my death dawned bright and fair.  I had never been kept in the same cell as Joshua or Jack, and Mary was in a separate prison, so I had no idea if they were already gone or if they would have to wait until long after I was gone.  The guards are approaching.  I can hear their footsteps, echoing on the cement floor.  The door swings open and my two main jailers come in.  The woman, who had worked out my book deal with the Chief, came by and smiled sadly at me.  The man showed no emotion, as always.  I think in the year I've been locked in this prison, he's spoken less than a handful of words to me.  Now isn't one of the rare moments when I can hear his voice.  I am grabbed roughly by the arm, just barely holding on to the paper and pen that has been supplied for me.  The woman looked at me and whispered, "The girl, Mary I think her name is, was executed last week.  I thought you should know that."  It shocked me to the core.  My leg's give out from under me, but the man holds me up until I am calm enough to stand.  Does this mean that Josh and Jack are dead already? 

        I am being led through the labyrinth of corridors.  I can feel myself being led closer and closer to the outside.  The fresh air feels great after my months of the stale, musty air that was in the cell.  I know where they are leading me.  A mixture of chemicals that would kill me "humanely" wasn't good enough for me.  The "Murder King" deserved more traditional methods.  I would be hung.  The final door swung open and I saw the light of the sun for the first time since my incarceration.  It was as bright as the fires of Hell, and as hot too.  I could feel it burning my skin, even after only the few seconds of contact.  I looked around and what I saw froze me to the core.  Sitting in a chair, less than twenty feet away, was Joshua, tears streaming down his beautiful face.  My best friend.  My accomplice.  My love. 

        I looked past him and saw the reason for his tears.  There, hanging by the neck, was Jack.  I couldn't bring myself to cry for him.  He was a good friend, but I wouldn't miss him.  He was a blunt, hard man, who had been on the edge of suicide ever since I met him.  This would be a reprieve for him.  I was led to a seat directly in front of the gallows.  Why was I here?  What would happen to me?  Why was Josh being led up to the ghastly instrument that hung before me, blocking all sun and casting me in perpetual shadow?  I realized what was happening right as they tied me to the chair and held my eyes open.  This wasn't what was supposed to happen.  I should have died first.  This was torture!  This had to be illegal!  I screamed louder than I ever had.  All of the times that I would never have with him poured out of me.  In my screaming was one message.  "I'm sorry.  I'm so sorry.  I never meant it to end this way!" I screeched out of my ruined lungs.  The rope was around his neck when he looked at me and I heard a voice that I had never heard before.  It was like nails on a chalkboard.  Like it hadn't been used in a very long time.  "I love you."  That was the first and last thing I ever heard Joshua Aeron speak. 

        They're calling me to the gallows now and all I can see is the image of his body hanging there, but what's odd is that I swear his foot twitched...  His body hanging there, lifeless, but still perfect in every way.  I need to go.  It was fun while it lasted. 

        Goodbye.