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The Bourreau and the Waltz Dancer
Chapter 1: The Executioner
The sun shined on the tip of my axe as it gleamed down the silver handle. I looked at the crowd through my black, iron hood. They waited anxiously for blood. The prisoner came on the metal caged cart. Hard to recognize at first, the sun reflected from the axe to me. As the prisoner got closer and closer… it was a woman. I felt my breaths getting heavier. Like the first time I executed a prisoner, my hands began to sweat. My gloves were slipping off. She stepped up on the stairs and to the platforms. She glanced at me and ambled to her death spot. This woman was already prepared for her death. The woman kneeled down on her own, her hands tied behind her back, she waited for Grim to take her away. The assistants handed me a small knife and I cut down her long brown hair. Then they pushed her neck down to the correct height. My two fingers touched her neck, finding the correct spot to cut, and marking it in my own mind. I grabbed my axe and hesitating at first, I tighten my grip as I swung it down on the mark of her naked nape. The crowd cheered when the woman’s skull clash down on the wooden floor. I gulped and smiled, knowing that I didn’t put her in too much pain. I grasped the hair of the head and pulled it up to the crowd. They became louder than before. The massive execution had finally ended when I threw her head in the metal bucket with the other rest of the condemned criminals. While I was heading back to the Executioner’s Den, Marco stood in front of the door, smirking.
“You know, Vincent, every time I see your execution, it doesn’t really excite me very much. You know why?”
“Why?” I followed his stupidity.
“Vincent, you make it too quick, you gotta give the people a bonus. You gotta make the criminals suffer for what they’ve done. People come here to see the person who killed their precious thing in the world suffer. You gotta go with the flow, Vincent!”
I frowned and growled at him. “With that kind of attitude, you’re no more than a killer yourself.”
“Oh? And what does that make you? Just because you go by your father’s regulation doesn’t mean you’re better than all of us, Vincent.” He laughed as he faded inside the Den. I sighed, stopped growling, and began to head inside too. I went back to my Den and took off my black robe and hood. Inside it was a chainmail, designed just in case my axe broke and bounced back at my body, my hood had it too. I kept it on and covered it with a gray shirt. Touching my neck, I noticed; my collar was not here. I looked around for it and saw it on the cabinet; I grabbed it and placed it on my neck. Before I left the room, I gazed at my axe; it still had blood stains on it. I sighed, found a towel on my bed, and wiped it off. I smiled at it and mumbled, “It looks brand new again, père.”
I put it back on the wall and moved out of the room. I walked to the market in search of food. My hands in my pockets, I went around and yawned. My stomach growled in hunger. I fingered the coins inside my pockets: 39 francs in total. I searched in my back pocket and came up with 62 francs. Only 12 dollars. I sighed and thought, “It seems that I forgot my wallet again.”
I went over to the bakery and brought myself a loaf of bread. I munched on the bread as I found a place to sit. Scanning the area, I watched people pass by. When I finished the last piece, a panicking man ran pass me. In a sheer moment, I saw a half red knife on the side of his stomach. The man suddenly stopped and looked back; he sighed in relief and began walking like a civilized person. I shook, stood up, and slowly followed the man. The now civilized man began to walk at a faster pace and constantly looking behind. He was panicking again. I stopped and walked in a different direction. He seemed to be finding a secured place. A place where no one was, a place where no one dared to enter; the abandoned house in the middle of the neighborhood. The place was deserted and somehow, no one dared to enter it. Somebody could have brought it and built something else, but it seemed that the rumor of a ghost had turned them away from the building. Ghost… I laughed at the rumor. It was just some kid’s tale; I could not believe that people would actually believe that.
The brick wall was wrapped around green vines; the house was broken down at the top, no roof. A sign of fire was marked on the edges of the broken woods. It did look like a haunted house, nevertheless. I sat behind the walls and waited.
My prediction was correct; the man did came. He looked paranoid, restless, and timid. His heavy breathes could be heard like a child’s cry. He only stood three feet away from here; I could attack at any given moment. However, I realized, I left my axe at home. I sighed and muttered, “Seems like I have to knock him unconscious with my own fist.”
I silently cracked my knuckles and sneaked out to the opening. Soundlessly, I slithered across the dead garden and pounced for his legs. Knocking him down, I turned him over and punched him in the face. Then hoping that I got the right person, I looked at in the inside of his jacket and around his waist. It was the person; I took out his knife and inspected it. A gold slash of paint appeared on the other side of the knife, on its lower handle. It was a symbol, but which? I did not care nor had the time to figure it. I seized the collar of his coat and dragged him back to the Execution’s Den.
I threw the man on the cement floor, waking him up. He scanned the room and finally noticing that it was the Executioner’s Den, he tried to escape. A large, buff man grasped his arm and pulled him down.
“Rod, who is this guy?” I asked.
He studied the gold slash and answered, “He’s Jak the Tueur, a killer who murdered seven families in total and was still on the loose. How did you find him?”
“I saw him during my break time.”
Rod smiled at me. “Well since you found him, would you like the honor to execute him?”
He stared at my face for an answer; I kept on glaring at him, whispering, “No.”
Laughing, he pointed at Eddie. “Yo kiddo, you’re executing this man tomorrow, and Vincent,” he said, looking at me. “Watch Eddie for me.”
I nodded and looked at Eddie, he came here two weeks ago and this was probably his first execution. He did not look scared; he was already train for his. I grinded my teeth and walked off.
At the stage, I watched the announcer spread his words. “Personnes of France, today we come together to witness the execution of Jak the Tueur——who have kill seven families.”
The speech went on as I glared at both Eddie and Jak. Eddie has those murderous eyes while Jak had the eyes of an innocent man. I felt like their roles were switched.
“Bourreau! We are ready,” the announcer spoke.
The helpers grabbed Jak and pushed him down. Eddie raised his arms as he smirked and smashed his axe down to the ground. My eyes opened wide when Jak’s head bashed on to the floor, I fixed on Eddie, his face showed a massive bloodlust. He picked up Jak’s head, leaned back, and threw it to the crowd. I growled, what was he doing? The citizens fought their way to the head like a mob of hungry coyotes. I hurriedly followed Eddie as he jogged back to the Executioner’s Den. Clutching his shoulder; I glared at him. “Eddie, what are you doing? You weren’t supposed to do that!”
Eddie scoffed at me. “Oh? And do you think you’re all that just because you’ve been here longer than me? Un tel homme pitoyable, étant tel un lâche contre la mort.”
I tighten my grip on his shoulder but soon let it go. Eddie smirked and head on back to the Den. With him gone, a silent bark slipped away from my mouth. “A coward you say?”
I did not need any more of this anger. I went to my Den and hurried myself to sleep.
The night was not welcoming my dreams.
Chapter 2 Part 1
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=3= I rewrote this because I didn't like the original one.
The French DictionarySpoiler
Tueur = Killer
père = father
) My only main problem is that the setting is very unclear. You tell the detail of what's going on but not the setting. Are they in a shady villiage on a foggy day? I'm sorry if my brains just skipping over stuff, but that isn't clear. I think this story has a lot of promise! I enjoyed it. Your writing style is very flairey and enjoyable. Last thing, why did you split part two into two parts? I'm sure you could have fit all of Chapter two in here or in a full chapter two. Just to ponder. Also, I loved your duct tape tie! *huggles!* Sorry It's so sort and positive. It was really, truly good.