Lucinda stood straight before the executioner’s platform. The wind softly lifted her dark brown hair, lightly caressing her face. She irritably hooked the loose strands behind her ear. People all around shifted away when they saw her hair billowing in the wind, her penetrating gaze and black dress. They feared her. She did not care, she did not care about anything, the rotting buildings, dying people, the stench of burning flesh, nor the dull drone of life. Each day was like the next. With the “Organization” having power over people’s lives, and ruling them, their dictating laws were life. There was no freedom. She was born into this life.
Lucinda was only doing her job, searching out all the refugees or those who did not commit enough to the “Organization,” and then she would sentence them to death, watch their dull lives leave their even duller eyes. She did not care, her soul was dead in anyway. She hated life, hated herself.
As the snaking line of people made it onto the platform, a hush fell over the crowd. The executioner stepped forward. . .thunk, a lifeless body hit the floor. Lucinda’s thoughts were already moving in another direction. Finally the last man came striding forward confidently. Lucinda paused, this man was different, how could it be? His back straight, head held high, his gaze roaming the crowd, unafraid. Even though he was shackled, he was free, his spirit was at peace. For a few moments their eyes met-black hair, framing a tanned face, with deep azure eyes. Lucinda’s breath stopped short for a second, her heart skipped a beat, her mind slammed shut. His eyes. . .were alive. The burning beacon of hope, freedom and truth was blazing, almost as a rescue tower for the condemned, lost in a reckless sea of deception and cruelty.
In an instant, Lucinda’s life changed. Even seeing a glimpse of real life, real freedom, was enough to make her soul cry out in hunger for that which she never had. It felt like he was searching her soul- in some ways he was. The axe flashed in the sunlight. The man smiled as if content. Lucinda, tears streaming down her face thought that was odd, but then again, not at all. Before she could take another breath, his lifeless body hit the floor. She wanted to cry out in rage and horror, but could not, her scream refused to be set free. Her whole body felt paralyzed. Reality finally sank its claws into her heart once more. But this time, Lucinda did care.
***
Two weeks had passed in a blur. Lucinda’s eyes were red, tears of regret never seemed to cease. A cry of terror brought her out of her buzzing thoughts. She looked up and froze. They were about to slaughter a child. The executioner’s axe flashed once more, with that, flashes of the man’s eyes came rushing into her mind. Before she knew what she was doing, she jumped onto the squealing child, forming a human shield. That did not stop the executioner’s cold heart. But instead of the axe, he grabbed a stout rod and rained blow upon blow down on her back, she knew it was only a matter of time before he hit her head hard enough, and it would all be over.
The child, whimpering in fright, not just for himself, but also for her, clung to her neck- the only savior he had. Lucinda hushed him gently. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” She whispered. He nodded, and shut his auburn eyes tightly. The pain was stunningly agonizing and her mind was losing focus. For the boy’s and her own sake, she started to hum a loving lullaby, the only comfort they had. With death crawling over her skin and giving her a final mocking, whispering kiss on her cheek, a slight tingle rushed down her back. Lucinda ignored the feeling of slipping away, instead she felt the rising explosion of love, life, freedom and joy. A smile spread on her face, a smile of content. The boy frowned, but then saw the beacon of hope in her eyes, the blazing fire of life. Tears not of fear, or horror, but of gratitude slid down his small face. Then the world spun at a sickening angle for Lucinda and finally, death had its wish.
***
Benjamin flicked his curly, sandy brown hair back, his eyes, his auburn eyes surveyed the last fires of the fight-now over- being doused by his followers, his free followers- his people. They were finally free, they had finally cast away the shackles of slavery. He was so happy that he had lived to see this day. If it was not for him leading every one through all the battles, if he had not been alive right now, the dark shadow of the “Organization” would still be haunting their souls. If it was not for that day, where that strange woman had saved his life and died with a content smile, he would not have gotten away, would not have lived, would not have led the freedom fighters. He smiled, he would never forget the life he saw in her eyes. His eyes shone, and in them, something shone even more- life, freedom, peace, hope, love and joy.
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