[FFML] [spamfic][oneshot][R.5(esq)/Original(ish)] An Execution

Just something silly I came up with last night during yet another bout of sever insomnia (I don't think I've slept during the night at all this week...)=

Alas, I've not spell checked, or even proof read this.

If this were a film, I'd expect it to be rated 15, for explicit and bloody violence. Or maybe a 12.

Anyhow.

An Execution

Inspired by...
What I wanted to do to Genma in KaraOhki's fic 'Cinders', and
'An Execution', by Siouxsie & The Banshees

Written by Alex Timiney, 2:00am 03/10/2002

Two gunshots echoed across the yard. They weren't the roaring bangs
that would be heard in some western action film, but the deathly
realistic 'pop's of a real firearm, like some hideously oversized
party popper.

The small pistol had been aimed meticulously, sending it's lead cored
projectiles spining out of it's barrel at just under the speed of
sound, following a massively flattened parabolic arc to their
targets - the man's knees.

The force of the first impact shattered the boney kneecap, gouged
through the cartilage joint and exited the leg at the pit of the
knee. The damage wasn't limited to that, however, for the tip of the
9mm bullet was hoolow. The little concave depression, no more than
half the diameter of the bullet, created an expanding shockwave as
the projectile burrowed it's way through the flesh. At the back of
the knee, the shockwave pulverised the muscle and sinew, blowing out
the shredded tendons in a sickening pink mist.

Half a second later, the other knee succumbed to the same horrible
fate.

A roaring scream masked the clitter-clatter of the empty casings
bouncing off the concrete pavement. The scream went on, even as the
man, legs no longer cablable of being delioberately bent, or of
supporting weight, collapsed to the floor, twisting onto his back as
his left leg crumpled one way, and the right buckled the other way.
He would never stand or walk unaided again.

The wounded girl, retribution in hand, glared at the man over the
simple optics of her weapon.

"Now who's 'damaged'?" she hissed, just loudly enough to be heard
over the man's wails of agony, and penetrate his pain clouded mind.
She'd had a long whinded speach about justice and rightousness, but,
apart from it being contrived and hypocritical, it was no where near
as poignient as that short, unsophisticated remark.

The girl tried to supress a grin as she limped away, but failed.
Maybe it was just the adrenalin, but it disturbed her that she should
take so much pleasure from inficting so much pain, and from crippling
the man who's life had been the art. But this was revenge, and it was
so much sweeter when it was suffering, not death, that was delivered
unto your prey. A suffering that would last a life time.

To take a man's life without killing him.

Maybe later she would regret it. Maybe later she would feel pity and
wish she had not dealt such a terrible fate. But for now the damaged
spot in her soul that would have been left cold and empty and
meaningless by the man's death was filled with the warmth of burning
fires. The inferno of conflicting emotion and confusion.

It hurt... but was it not better to feel pain and know that you are
alive, than feel nothing and be left wondering?

It was time to go home. Time to heal.

Finally.

- - -

"This is what she saw...
The unsuspecting horse was held down fast to the ground
Whilst some soldiers slit open it's belly
The guilty gypsy was shoved inside the horse's belly
With only his head protuding from the dying
Beast. Another soldier then sewed up the wound
With the culprit inside, condemned to die, along
With the putrifying animal, screaming.

The young countess looked up
Barely restraining a giggle."

-'An Execution'