I’m a criminal, a notorious one if I can say so myself, or I was one before. I was captured a week ago and now I’m being dragged by 2 overweight goons that are more generally known as prison guards to the execution grounds that have been built specifically for my execution in the Capital’s square so more people can come to watch.

Of course a personal executional ground appeals to me no more than a personal anal probe. Adding “personal” doesn’t help if the rest of it contains words like “anal” and “execution”.

Suddenly, one of the guards bashes me with his shield which sends me stumbling back. Confused, I look at the guard that suddenly decided to get physical with me out of nowhere. His eyes were wide open and brows furrowed in an attempt to look intimating. Alas, all the reaction it got was a snort and my poor attempt at comedy. “I don’t swing that way, sorry.” Was all that I could come up with given the situation

The guard didn’t look amused, his face was somehow gaining a tint of red, eyes seething with rage and hand reaching close to the sheath of his sword.

Unfortunately when things where just getting a little interesting the other guard chimed in and stopped his colleague. He calmly approached him and whispered something along the lines: “The asshole is about to die anyway or did you forget where exactly are we leading him? So either relax or kill him here and you can take his place on the execution grounds”. The guard with anger management problems thought for a second took a deep breath and simply nodded in consent.

After that the smarter of the two turned to me and gave me a meaningful look before saying “anal execution” over and over again since we left your cell.

I shrugged and explained to him “The fact that they didn’t let me to sleep for 5 days and broke a lot of my bones so I couldn’t use magic nor bring things to a more personal level doesn’t help my judgment and grant me any control over the things that I might be saying.”

The guard didn’t give me an answer. Instead he just sighed deeply while rubbing his eyes with his gauntlet and motioned to the other guard to grab me and start moving.

Once we finally reached the armored carriage that is usually used to transfer gold or especially dangerous criminals. The only difference is that when carrying gold the carriage is used to secure what is inside from the outside influences. While giving a lift to someone like me, it is used to protect the outside influences from whatever is inside. Though, in my opinion it should be other way around because gold corrupts people so they need to be protected from it while we kill people because they are corrupted. Vote for me to become the next King and I’ll beat corruption! Oh wait.. We don’t vote here because only the closest male relative can become the next king, regardless if he’s a money garbing vulture, tyrant or simply a cripple with a down syndrome that can even take a piss by himself forget about governing a country.. And after all this they still expect me not to go around and kill people left and right.

“Woah!” I exclaimed loudly, when the carriage got a little shaky from the uneven road and I got distracted from the torrent of idiocracy regarding corruption caused by my severe lack of sleep.

*******

It took a while, but the carriage finally arrived to its destination – Capital’s Square.

When they unlocked the carriage, they presented me with a brand new pair of shiny shackles and shuffled me out after double-checking that the shackles where a tight fit.

Once outside I’ve managed to take a good look around and was overwhelmed by the reception. The square was literally flooded with people; heh… this whole execution thing is on a level of a damn national holiday! *cough* the king’s birthday*cough*

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While I was led through the flood of people by a squadron of knights that were assign to create a passage towards my gallows that were built right before the huge Cathedral’s entrance. On the way, the surrounding crowd was drowning me in complements. Yelling out things like “Murderer!”, “Vile Necromancer!”, “Dirty Thief!” and at some point a bald hulking 2m tall dude was trying to jump at me through that knight’s encirclement, while yelling something about returning his llama “Albert” to him..

What can I say, being a criminal is tough life.. I’ve done a little of everything to get by you know. Starting from a mini zombie apocalypses to riding an ostrich around the city while only wearing a pair of boxers.. as a hat, since it’s cold without a hat outside during winter..

Regardless, it sure took more than a minute, but we still managed to the execution grounds, where two dudes were getting impatient for us to reach the stage.

One was wearing an executioner’s hood and black leather pants, overall his outfit would make him plenty imposing if it wasn’t for his bulging beer belly and his height. The poor guy was no longer then 1.6m.

The second looked too young to wear the officer’s uniform that he was wearing so he was either a prodigy or just some noble’s boy.

Once I thrown on the execution grounds the noble kid came up to me immediately and gave a brief introduction with his position as the law enforcement officer after which he explained how everything is going to go, meanwhile the executioner didn’t even spare a glance my way. *sob*

According to the kid, he has the list of all the charges against me and will read it out in front of the public and once he’d finished everything on the list (which was pretty damn long for some reason), he’ll give the signal to the executioner and I’ll be a goner. Sounds nice... They even hired the noble’s kid to read the epic tales of my adventures. Meanwhile I was getting comfy pulling the noose on myself.

To be completely honest, standing on the gallows, with a noose wrapped around my neck, wasn’t exactly one of the most pleasant experiences in my life. On the other hand, it wasn’t even close to being the worst, but recollecting my childhood, as the experimental subject #673 of the magic research laboratory, is not what I’m going to waste the last moments of my life on.

And so it dawned on me, I’m about to die here. Well, whatever. It was a fun run anyway.

So instead of brooding over the sudden realization, I casually raised my head to look at this world one last time, which caused the ever-so-loud audience of my public execution to freeze over in fear and go silent the second they noticed me glaring in their general direction. I found this reaction truly amusing, to say the least, which led my glaring expression to shift into a wicked grin.

As if on que the law enforcement officer that has been reading out my charges to everyone present has finished and gave the signal to the executioner.

Giving a slight nod, the executioner, pulled the lever that activated the trap door under my legs which caused any signs of life to leave my body in a matter of seconds, but dead or alive, that wicked grin has never left the body.

Or that’s how I’d love it all to end and stuff, but reality is a bitch. Unlike the audience, the actual procedure of execution did nothing to amuse me and so I probably lost my wicked grin together with all my arrogance somewhere in between me wallowing around to break free and exerting myself to try and breathe.

To make matters worse, instead of dying, I woke in some empty closet, chained to a marble wall, missing my legs and stuck in a semi-transparent body.