A group of guards descended on my cell, one unlocking the door and roughly grabbing my arm. "Hey, watch it, assholes!" In response to my outburst, the same guard who was restraining my arms covered my mouth, making it hard to breathe. Their gloves smelled disgusting, like cheap alcohol and dark magic. The toxic scent was making my head woozy, and as I was dragged out of the door, pulled up the dingy stairs, the words the guards were saying, the angry taunts whispered in my ears started to blend together, until the sounds and sights were fuzzy and distant.

This was nice. Peaceful, even. A drugged mess, and I could still feel the beauty of incoherence. It would be a poetic ending, an execution. I was brought into this world unwillingly, and that was how I was going to be brought out of it. I hadn't fully accepted my death, my head still waiting with baited breath, hoping beyond hope that I would survive. But, my heart, the sensible part of me, had recognized my fate, and I supposed that nothing would really come of my death. Soon enough, people would recognize that killing me wouldn't bring them closure, that the only thing  would bring them peace would be if they could have their loved ones back.

But, that would never happen, and so those grieving masses would never find peace. That brought me an immense amount of comfort, knowing that even when I was gone, my wonderful deeds would have these horrible effects on people's lives. The only person who would immediately suffer from my death would be my lover, but she was used to suffering, as were we all. She would remember me for years to come, and would probably hate me for the shit I had put her through. But, she would continue on loving me.

The glove was lifted off my mouth, and I realized only a few moments had passed. The double doors of the courtroom reaching up to the Heavens were opened, painstakingly, and for the first time, I could see the crowds of people who had come to witness my trial. They crowded the rows of seats, pushing and shoving each other as I was brought into the room. They didn't hush as I entered, but just grew more chaotic, people yelling, calling me things that they thought I would take as insults.

I loved the taunts, craved them, even. No one had ever told the people who hated me to never offend a power hungry maniac. Words wouldn't hurt me, just feed me. All they were doing was bringing about their end oh so much quicker.

There were few people in this miserable kingdom who I didn't hate. My lover, how innocent she was, escaping the punishments of living in this dreadful place. When I had first met her I was faintly jealous of that. My sister, although she had been consumed by the monarchy years ago. My parents, who I had loved in an unconditional way, although they shunned me. And, there were two more, whom I had never met, who had seemed to make it their duty to rebel against the current excuse for a government.

Some treated them as heroes, or vigilantes, others thought that they were terrorists, trying to strike fear into the hearts of the citizens. I thought of them as the former, some of the few willing to push back against our oppressive monarchy.

Only one person I loved would miss me. How horrible of a thought. The rest were dead, or would be soon enough. So, so sad.

And then I saw her. A girl I had known for oh so long. Sitting in the stands, a lacy veil covering her face. I could tell it was her, though. Her dress, one I had sewn, around her neck a string of pearls I had threaded, her lips a red tint I had stolen, just for her. She had come to watch me die. How touching.