In The Shadow Of A Mask

In The Shadow Of A Mask

A Story by Whisty_x

  Today is a day I wish would never wake.

  It’s been nearly a year since the last time I was given the privilege of feeling the graceful touch from the suns rays upon my cheeks. For months I have been caged behind rusted bars like a trophy animal, patiently awaiting the day that I am savagely slaughtered all for the sake of the King’s contorted amusement. Hands bound behind my back, guards either side of me, I am forced to move through the heavy iron gates of the prison and out into the open. A shadowed glow from the sun creates a corridor of faint light between the crooked houses in the street.

  I follow a number of innocent souls as I am paraded through the middle of the town square, where a growing crowd of friends and familiar faces collide with an overpowering sense of hatred and disgust. Their eyes fall upon me as if I were the creator of the deathly plague that has recently kissed the streets.

  The breeze tickles my malformed skin and brings me a new lease of life. My lungs fill with the captivating air as I slow my pace to inhale the new air. The feeling cold through my body. My skin stings; trying to readjust to the vibrancy of the world around me. I am swiftly broken from my haven by the force of chain mail hitting my back making me to loose my footing. The cause is made clear as I peer over my shoulder to find a ghastly guard with a face like acid. I pan my gaze towards the sky as the faint light of the sun becomes non-existent. Standing in front of me is my ultimate bane; the tall wooden beast that in a few short moments will cease my existence entirely.

  I freeze.

  Uncertainty pumping through my veins, I place my foot upon the first step. "What am I doing?" I think to myself. "I cannot allow anyone to witness my fear." I pursue, jolted once again by the impatient guard behind me urging me to move closer towards my stance of death.

  As I reach the top of the platform, I look out over the large crowd. The unsettling thought invades my mind: "I am the people’s entertainment." The guards continue with their job and position me on top of the trap door. My soul now shivering in fear.

  A small man makes his way up the stairs and to the front of the platform in front of me. He holds up an oversized piece of paper which in proportion takes up nearly seventy percent of his height. "Master Devin Langford. Found guilty of multiple crimes including highway piracy, adultery and more severely, murder. The result of these crimes; death by hanging." 

  It is probably an inappropriate thought at this moment in time, however I am stunned that such a big voice comes out of such a tiny man. 

  He continues, "Master Devin. Do you have any last words?" He turns to me, peering over the top of his large piece of paper.

  "Yes."
  "Well?" He persists.
  I glance up towards the sky before returning my gaze to the crowd of people 
in front of me. "I have had a lot of fun, pray for me that I don't end up in heaven, I don't think I could cope."

  The crowd turns silent.

  The small man, face like thunder, turns his attention towards the crowd once again. "May god have mercy upon your soul and may you find peace in the next life."

  A steady drum beat begins in the distance. My heart is pounding so hard that I fear I may die prematurely. 

  The clouds begin to disappear and rays of the suns golden light blesses the town square. As the men prepare to place the hood over my head, I take one last look across the crowd. All the familiar faces I once trusted. The lives I have helped. Their faces glinting in the sun light. 

  In the far distance, behind the crowd, I latch onto someones passing gaze as they prepare to step into a carriage. Their developing worried expression one I seem to recognise but do not know. In a sudden desperate urge, the woman dressed in beautiful Sunday clothes, begins to fight her way through the crowd.

  "Devin? Devin!" She shouts, he voice lost in the sea of bodies.

  The coarse hood is lowered below my chin, followed by a heavy rope which rests upon my shoulders. 

  I cannot withdraw my emotions. The rushed feeling of euphoria takes over my body as I tremble in awaited fear.
  A faint cry pierces through the tight weaves of the hood. "Devin! Please stop! That's my brother!"
  I hear a sharp crack. I suddenly become weightless. I gasp for air but the devil 
shows me no mercy. 


© 2017 Whisty_x



Author's Note

Whisty_x
A short story following the main character in my script. You witness his last moments in this life.
I am not the best with grammar or spelling so please let me know to correct anything you see!
Constructive feedback is always very welcome as it helps me to improve.
Also, check out my other pieces of work, they are both descriptive as well and I would love for some more feedback on both of them.
Thanks! x

My Review

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Reviews

I love your use of descriptive words and your similies and metaphors. Very captivating. I was drawn in all the way to end. I also love your ending. Well done

Posted 7 Months Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Whisty_x

7 Months Ago

Thank you!
I am terrible at dialogue so I always gravitated towards silent stories where the.. read more
It is so sad that his sister couldn't meet him.. But I still think that playing around with a character and putting him in different situations improves one's writing a lot. Keep on with the excellent job!!!

Posted 7 Months Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Whisty_x

7 Months Ago

Thank you!
I am not sure what to make this story into yet, whether it be a script for screen.. read more
Write Cat

7 Months Ago

Go for it!!

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188 Views
2 Reviews
Added on February 13, 2017
Last Updated on July 22, 2017
Tags: Shadow, Mask, Fiction, Gallows, First Person, Descriptive, 1700's

Author

Whisty_x
Whisty_x

Stratford-Upon-Avon, Warwickshire, United Kingdom



About
I am an aspiring script writer heading off to university in September 2017. I don't have much experience but I am hoping to change that around! I usually write stylised/absurdist scripts, however .. more..

Writing
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A Story by Whisty_x