The Executioner

Hardly had I cut off the prisoner’s head that the crowd started to yell, as if the life I have just taken was in their bodies, and now it started to drain out along with the blood.

The head rolled over with the eyes looking at me, a trickle of blood coming out of its gaping mouth. The eyes kept blinking. And staring at me. The face was contorted in an inhuman grimace, with the forehead all wrinkled. The thick eyebrows were fixed downwards, in an angry look. There was no fear in that look. Just anger. Damnation.

The blood kept leaking out of the piece of neck that was still attached to the head. A piece of the neck bone was sticking out. It was almost red from the blood. A piece of flesh was hanging out, too. I could also see his teeth, through the wide opened mouth. Yellow teeth. Rotten. I almost threw up right there. But I didn’t.

The tongue was swollen and purple. It looked like he wanted to scream, but did not have enough time to do it. And the eyes kept staring at me. The hair was raven black, but dirty and greasy from the sweat. I noticed a dreadlock on his right side. It was going down along his ear, which was pierced by what it looked like a silver earring. The earring was dangling as the head hadn’t yet settled from rolling. His nostrils were wide open as if trying to catch a last breath of air.

And those eyes just kept blinking. Those big black eyes. Staring at me.



Until they finally stopped blinking and remained fixed, like the eyes of a fish.

The man was dead. And so was my innocence.

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