![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Title: An Unpleasant Duty
Author: charisstoma
Word count: 224
Prompt: edacity, noun: the state of being edacious; voraciousness; appetite.
The sky was that clear blank blue called a pleasant day. He briefly glanced down into the deep oubliette determining if he’d have to stay much longer as witness at this punishment, then took back to studying the sky so as not to listen to the sounds from below, the crunch of bone and ripping of flesh. The other sounds had stopped long before; the whimpering of denial from the condemned, the pleas for clemency when the hood had first been removed from the prisoner at the gate that kept the executioners from joining the enactment of society’s retribution, the whispered ‘no … no’ when they saw the method of their death, and finally the short lived screams. It was a death reserved for only the worst who had no chance at redemption in Lord Henry’s mercy, heaven or the courts.
He glanced down again briefly. ‘Wouldn’t be long now.’ They’d need to dig a new oubliette as the bones were building up on the bottom to levels that would be dangerous soon. Arrangements for the termination of the real executioner in oil fed flames would need to be made after another prisoner had been infected to take its place. He was relieved that his bearing witness to this form of execution happened infrequently. The sentence was rarely handed down of death by zombie.
Author: charisstoma
Word count: 224
Prompt: edacity, noun: the state of being edacious; voraciousness; appetite.
The sky was that clear blank blue called a pleasant day. He briefly glanced down into the deep oubliette determining if he’d have to stay much longer as witness at this punishment, then took back to studying the sky so as not to listen to the sounds from below, the crunch of bone and ripping of flesh. The other sounds had stopped long before; the whimpering of denial from the condemned, the pleas for clemency when the hood had first been removed from the prisoner at the gate that kept the executioners from joining the enactment of society’s retribution, the whispered ‘no … no’ when they saw the method of their death, and finally the short lived screams. It was a death reserved for only the worst who had no chance at redemption in Lord Henry’s mercy, heaven or the courts.
He glanced down again briefly. ‘Wouldn’t be long now.’ They’d need to dig a new oubliette as the bones were building up on the bottom to levels that would be dangerous soon. Arrangements for the termination of the real executioner in oil fed flames would need to be made after another prisoner had been infected to take its place. He was relieved that his bearing witness to this form of execution happened infrequently. The sentence was rarely handed down of death by zombie.