Posted by Sawney Beane on March 10, 2007 at 23:31:24:
The Collected Works of Sawney Beane: Volume #70
A HANGING
by Sawney Beane
7, 12 February 1999
404 words
DISTRIBUTION NOTICE and DISCLAIMER: Sawney Beane requests that any distribution of this work of fiction remain within the realm of social responsibility. This story is suitable neither for minors nor for the seeming majority of adults who have difficulty distinguishing fantasy from reality. It is pure fantasy, which means that, for whatever reason, someone has found it interesting to think about the events depicted herein. It does not in any way mean that the author would like to see this fantasy become reality, so if you are the type of person who might be swayed into doing something irrational by reading a work of fiction, the author respectfully requests that you decline to read further.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Sawney Beane, originally a native of Edinburgh, lived for twenty-five years in a cave on the coast of County Galloway, subsisting on the flesh of unfortunate travellers, roughly a thousand of them all told. He and his wife raised a large family of eight sons, six daughters, eighteen grandsons, and fourteen granddaughters. Eventually, the family was captured, and the whole lot was brutally and unjustifiably tortured and executed without trial. Since his death in the early 17th century, Beane has reformed his ways and now confines his atrocities to his literary endeavours.
WARNING: This story contains scenes of non-consensual female snuff for purposes of cannibalism. If you find such things offensive, please steer clear; you have been warned.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is an idea I had just two minutes before I wrote it down. It's not great, but it is perhaps the fastest story I've ever taken from mind to paper (screen actually). It's sort of a mood piece rather than a story.
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I am blindfolded as they bring me up. I hear a girl's crying, uncontrolled and miserable. Then I hear the splintering of wood and a receding scream that ends with an audible snap. That must have been her neck. I sob louder, and I pray, but I am in a place where no prayers can escape. I try anyway.
When they take off my blindfold, the dead girl is already gone, taken off to the kitchens no doubt, but Jody is still standing blindfolded to my right, so it must have been Beverly that they hanged first. I will be second.
The men around me force me to step out onto the plank. The noose is already around my neck. I look up and see the rope vanishing in the far distance. There is a lot of slack, so I will certainly fall nearly to the floor before the snapping of my neck will halt my plummet. Some relief anyway.
I walk out; I have no choice. The men are banging my legs, and my arms are tied behind my back. I am completely nude, and I feel naked as I look down from three stories at the crowd gathered in the stadium below. There are about a hundred well-dressed men and women, and they all look hungry. Soon Beverly, Jody, and I will satiate them. It gives me the chills to think that my body will soon be divided up amongst the teeming hoard of inhumane humans.
When I am three feet out, I stop. There is no more board. The plank I am standing on bends downward severely from my hundred pounds or so of weight. It seems unstable, but it will undoubtedly soon get worse. I feel the breeze on my bare skin, and the tears run down my face. Everyone applauds me, how nice of them. Knowing my time is nearly up, I close my eyes. There isn't anything encouraging to look at anyway.
The heavy footfalls of the man with the axe are behind me. I hear him strike my plank with horrible force, and the splintering crack fills my ears. Then the air rushes past me as I fly through the air. I hear my own scream as if it were coming from someone else, and I grimace in anticipation of the horrible crack that will signal my conversion from woman to meat. It comes all too soon.