The four people were silent as the iron door was opened. A loud grinding sound rung out as it scraped across the ground.
The chains around their hands suddenly tightened and emitted a purple glow. Causing their bodies to go rigid and stand straight.
This prison contained a Tier 5 Prospect Weapon. It was managed by the warden and was able to produce special chains and axes. When restraining an individual with the chains it would allow anyone holding one of the axes to be able to control the prisoner's body. Even preventing them from talking.
It did have a limitation in which it couldn't produce quick or agile movements so the government had long scrapped the idea of using prisoners as soldiers. Though using them as meat shields or laborers was entirely possible.
Many small time offenders were forced to work long hours, doing hard labor.
It also made prison riots non-existent, as guards could immediately command the prisoners to freeze on the spot.
Another limitation was that the chains only worked within a 3 mile radius of the Prospect Weapon.
The four prisoners stood rigid on the spot and were commanded to line up. The purple glow of the chains lit up their horrified faces.
As the guard turned around and started walking down the hallway, the four prisoners followed closely behind obediently.
The sound of their footsteps echoed along the dark hallway, not a word was spoken. Shadows danced along the walls, cast from the weak flames of the assorted candles.
Grace tried to look backwards but her head was locked in place, the frail back of Caleb reflected in her eyes.
Patrick was in the rear, the image of his three companions walking to their doom was burned into his eyes. There was nothing he could do; it was all over.
Neil's eyes danced back and forth as if trying to free himself from his shackled body but no matter how he struggled his body continued to walk forward behind Grace.
Eventually the five of them reached an open room where two more guards stood in place. A large wooden door sat imposingly in the center.
The guard on the left approached the guard leading them and asked, "Your ID and Batch number please?"
The young guard with the hood over his head responded, "ID 008, Batch number 1508"
The guard took out a small tablet and wrote down the information. "Alright, no issues. Clear to pass."
As the door guard stepped aside, he pulled on a lever and a series of gears and chains made loud noises. Slowly the huge wooden door lifted up revealing the scene outside.
It was a large courtyard with a big stage in the middle. On top of the stage was a podium. The muddy floor stretched out until it reached a fence surrounding the courtyard.
A crowd looked on from beyond the fence. They waited with baited breaths. Seven other guards were lined up in front of the stage, each had a line of chained prisoners behind them. All emitting a purple glow as they stood as still as statues.
The bright sun shone down on the courtyard causing everyone to feel a bit uncomfortable. The hooded guard then lead them into the courtyard and lined up beside one of the other guards. He stood still as well, his feet pressed together perfectly at a 90 degree angle.
Patrick, Grace, Neil, and Caleb took in this scene. This would be the last thing they saw. The rows of guards, the faces of the excited crowd, a muddy ground, and the beaming sun. At least the weather was nice.
Awhile later two more guards exited the wooden door, leading their own prisoners. They lined up next to them and the crowd quieted down a little. Soon a tall man in a suit walked onto the stage. His face was tanned and he had a long black mustached that twisted up in the corners. This was the warden.
The warden smiled at the onlookers and waved. Then motioned for them to be quiet. After silence hovered over the courtyard he slowly took out an envelope from his back pocket. It was a crimson color and had a black wax stamp that sealed it.
He carefully pulled out a small letter opener, ordained with a dragon head, and cut open the envelope. He pulled out a piece of paper and stood straight in front of the podium.
"Good morning ladies and gentlemen of the 16th district. Today we are gathered to enforce code 58 of the Coalition Pact. The ones you see before you are all criminals. Criminals, guilty of violating the restriction of any and all Prospect farms, including but not limited to any other illegal actions committed during this transgression."
The warden's voice rung out across the open space enforcing his authority. He didn't even require a mic but it still reached everyone present.
"The individual cases have been taken to the board of judgement for review and they have found all present today Guilty. As written in the Coalition Pact, the punishment for these crimes is to be publicly executed as to dissuade any others interested or tempted by those with ill intentions. Please make sure to take the following proceedings to heart and learn the consequences of breaking the law. Thank you for your time, let the proceedings commence."
The warden gave one last wave to the audience and then retreated back into the prison. The warden approached one of the two guards by the door, "Send a message to Dallow. Tell him he can pick up the item tomorrow."
The guard nodded and pulled out his tablet before typing quickly.
Back at the courtyard one of the guards led his prisoners onto the stage. The wooden planks creaking with each step. The two prisoners behind him had blank faces. Not because they had already accepted their deaths, but the glowing chains prevented them from making any facial expressions.
The two prisoners were lined up facing the crowd. The chains rattled as they were forced onto their knees. Then they stuck out their necks and hung their heads down low, their faces looking at the other prisoners gathered below. Tears silently fell from their eyes, blurring their vision.
The crowd started cheering. Their faces were ecstatic and filled with hunger. Their cheers filled the open space drowning out the few protesters gathered.
Suddenly the guard pulled the axe from his back. His black hood swayed in the wind. He looked out at the crowd and then down at the exposed necks of his soon to be victims. He carried the axe over lining it up with the first prisoner's neck. Then he lifted it up over his head. The sun beamed, reflecting off the shiny metal, as if god was giving his blessing.
Then in only a moment there was a loud thud. The prisoner's head rolled across the stage staining it with fresh blood. The crowd erupted, their cheers shook the stage with a thunderous roar. After the death of the prisoner the chains stopped glowing and the body fell limply to the ground.
The guard casually stepped around the corpse and lined up his next victim. After dealing with the second prisoner, the guard grabbed a wheel barrel and loaded it with the corpses. Then he wheeled them off to another entrance where he disappeared.
Quickly the next guard led his 6 prisoners up and another massacre took place. The stage slowly became slick with blood as more and more prisoners were beheaded. The guards even had trouble standing, almost slipping.
Finally the 8th guard walked up. Bringing with him four prisoners. A young and frail looking boy, a young women with black hair, a man with long blonde hair, and an old man.
Patrick moved his eyes to look out at the gathered crowd. Their smiling and taunting gazes directed at him. He smiled inwardly. The cruelty of man laughed back at him. Patrick craned his eyes to the left as far as they would go. He could just barely make out the figure of his daughter standing rigidly in place. Sadly he couldn't quite see her face.
His consequences had finally caught up to him but he wouldn't be the only one paying the price.
The four of them were then forced onto their knees. He felt the pain and shock shoot through his body. Next his head bent down and his neck stretched out awkwardly. He saw the blood seeping into his clothing dying it red. He felt the heat of the sun on his back. And he saw his own face, reflected back at him through the wet blood.
The guard slowly walked over to the kneeling Caleb. The boy saw the boots of the guard next to him and tried to scream and run away. But it was useless. No matter how much he struggled his body just wouldn't listen. The metal chains around his wrist glowed beautifully. He felt the cold metal of the axe rest against the back of his neck. He would be dead soon.
The dread and horror filled his bones. His bladder released urine into his blood stained pants. His eyes were blood shot as he continued to struggle but it was to no avail. Soon the axe lifted above his head. And then with a swish, it was all over. Nothingness.
Grace felt the thud land next to her. Caleb was dead. She watched this kid grow up. Even took him to school sometimes. She thought of him as a brother. She watched as Caleb's severed head roll next to her. His lifeless eyes stared back up at her in horror. His final moments frozen in time.
She tried to look over at her father but couldn't see him. It was her turn now.
Patrick tried to remain calm but his fury was burning within him. Caleb was dead and now his daughter was about to meet the same fate. He heard the footsteps stop and then it was quiet. He waited. And then as if something shattered within him he heard the low thud of the axe. His daughter was dead. The sweet little girl that he loved. His precious child that he would give anything to protect. Taken from this world because of his stupidity.
The tears fell down his face like a river. They landed in the pools of blood causing ripples. He could no longer see his reflection. In his madness he didn't even notice that Neil had already been killed until he saw the black leather boots walk next to him.
Patrick closed his eyes. He was okay with death. There was nothing left for him in this world anyways. He just wanted it to end quickly. The guard slowly lined up the axe and lifted it above his head.
As Patrick waited in darkness he thought about the words Neil had written on the prison wall with blood.
"In a world ruled by man; only the cruelest will remain at the end."
Patrick felt so much regret and hatred right now. In the animalistic world ruled by nature their is an absolute law. The Survival of the Fittest. But in a world ruled by mankind there is a different law. The Survival of the Cruelest.
Patrick saw his life flash before his eyes. All the things he could have done. All the things he had done. All for naught. His time had run out. He felt the black abyss appear in his heart.
And then...there was nothing.