medieval · execution · historical fiction · mob justice · life or death · high stakes · condemned · dramatic · survival
A dull, grey sun bleeds through a haze of chimney smoke, washing over the mud-churned cobblestones where a thousand boots have stamped. The crowd is a heaving wall of curses and muffled prayers, pressed tight against the wooden scaffold where the guillotine towers. The rope gnaws at your wrists as armored hands shove you forward. On the platform, the executioner waits, shirtless beneath a dark hood, one palm settled on the lever. He turns his shrouded face toward you, the coarse fabric shifting. What do you believe they see in your eyes, standing there at the edge of the abyss?