"Monster"

For weeks I have laid on this stone floor, only a small patch of hay to act as my bed. I spent most of my time daydreaming about my younger years, living in the forest where things were so much simpler. Eating wild animals and doing as I pleased, not bothered by anything or anyone. As I roamed those familiar forest paths and pawed and scraped at the moss that covered all the trees, I never thought my life would meet its end in a city like this.

These people I had never seen or heard of, yet they knew so much about me. They talked about me in their newspapers and a night to scare their children. Told them I was the monster underneath their bed or in their closet. Through the small gap near the ceiling of my cell they would come by and whisper insults and recount the horrible deeds I had done. If i ever spoke they would run before anymore than a single word was uttered.

I felt so alone, no one to talk to or beg forgiveness from, but everyone to hear insults and horrors of my past from. I try to keep my mind in the days of my childhood, before I became what I am now. It helps me tune out what they say, plus it keeps my mind off what I am awaiting.

Today was different from what it is usually like, there were no visitors. I had waited in silence all morning, my only contact with a single guard who tossed a loaf of bread at me, afraid to get too close to the cell. Like a distant howl I began to hear something, talking and cheering, screaming and crying. The sounds of a gathering crowd, awaiting something they very much wish to see.

Eventually they grow louder and now I can hear their cheers more clearly from beyond these cold metal bars, echoing down the stone halls like distant ghostly wails. I know what they are crying for, yearning for, screaming for.

My death.

They do not understand me, nor do they care to. I am a monster, what is there to understand? What purpose is there in trying to find some sort of understanding in a creature that is so much different than you?

I don't blame them though. Although, I do wish they would listen to my words and plea's. If they could see into my mind, they would know that the only thing heavier than the shackles on my arms is the regret in my heart.

The screams and cheers grow louder and the strict cadence of marching boots near my cell.

'CLANG'

"Alright you beast, get up and face the wall." The captain of the guards says as he and his men line up with weapons at the ready outside my cell.

I look towards him with tired eyes wanting to protest what is to come, but I see the fear and the hate and know it is no use. I stand and turn, pressing my forehead against the cool damp stone. The cell door opens with a creak and a series of hands come over me, restraining me and throwing a bag over my head.

They walk me down the halls and out into the courtyard, the screams getting louder and louder as we approach the crowd. Stepping out from the dungeon the cheers were deafening upon my arrival. My steps fall heavy upon the newly built wooden steps of the gallows, my legs shaking with fear. After I am brought upon the gallows they show me to the crowd and they cheer for a minute and then a minute more, only ceasing when the captain of the guards raises his hand in a call for silence. Then as the cheering dies down a firm kick is placed in the back of my knee and I fall down to my face, hands tied behind my back.

Someone pulls me back up to my knees, then rips off the bag over my head and the crowd erupts once more. The light, which I hadn't seen in weeks, was blinding and painful. Not as painful as their screams though; "Killer!", "Murderer!", "Monster!".

They weren't wrong. I had killed many who were precious to these people, and many more that they never knew about. However, the hate they have for me could never be more than the hate I have for myself. I followed my leader and my ways blindly, never second guessing myself as I carried out unspeakable acts upon these people.

I hadn't opened my eyes to the error of my ways until it was already too late; staring at the face of a young prince as I drained his father of his lifeblood.

"For the crime of over thirty murders, aiding the Thulian empire in war, and the most grievous of crimes; the assassination of our great King Alexander. You are sentenced to death." The High priest and Herald of the now dead king spoke out in a powerful voice filled with misery and conviction.

The guards next to me shoved my head down the chopping block and the executioner dragged his axe towards me, bloodstains dried on its blade.

I looked out and into the crowd, seeing the eager looks of the people before me, all expecting and awaiting my death. A stream of tears rolled down my face but I did not resist, I knew I was better off dead. I wanted to live, but not with the memories of what I had done. There are no true second chances, I would always have my past and these people would always hate me for it. It was better to die as the monster they believed me to be than to seek some sort of undeserved redemption.

As the executioner's axe was raised high, a small smirk came across my face. I spent my entire life doing what I was told was right. Brainwashed from the age of ten and trained into a killer that would not disobey orders. I tried to be perfect by the ideals that were trained into me, but in the end I failed and was on the wrong side of morality. To my generals and masters I was perfect in every way and my praises were sung up and down the halls of the barracks, but to these people I am a creature of the night. I am a killer in the darkness, a slayer of kings, a terror of the Thulian empire.

It was amusing, no matter how perfect i tried to be and how well I followed orders, seems I failed anyways.

I'm only human after all...