		Living Headless:  Mary's Verdict

GUILTY!

The words were still resonating in Mary's ears as she was led off in shackles from the courtroom.  Her eyes barely seeing the rooms leading away back to the dank dungeon cell where she will sleep her last night.  All she can think of is Lucinda's smirk of satisfaction.  The ferret jill knew she was involved in this somehow.  But she would never think she would have sunken to murder; and now there was another murder on her hands with Mary's own head marked for the guillotine tomorrow.  

The madness of the last week seemed to be reaching it's breaking point with her neck set to be split upon it tomorrow morning.  She wondered how it could have gone so bad so quickly.  It seemed like she had fallen into another world now.  One day she was cleaning the house and working as normal as a maid to the noble Roland, and the next she found him dead upon the bed.  Blood everywhere as the guards rushed in.  The razor she had used to shave him the morning before laying on the bed before her.  The scene grisly and obvious to the guards as she shook in terror.

And from then on it seemed like the nightmare was never ending.  Dragged away through the growing crowds.  Locked in a dank cell, with everyone ignoring her cries for help.  It seemed everything was going against her.  Her pleas falling to deaf ears that she had merely found him murdered.  Of course she was guilty, she was found with the body, wasn't she?

Mary knew who had done it of course.  That smug bitch Lucinda.  Her family business had been snubbed by the Roland's house, and they were losing much in the growing chaos of the reign of terror.  But with Roland dead Lucinda could sweep in and claim the business Roland would no longer perform.  Perhaps even their properties and assets as the house collapsed amidst the chaos.

But to go this far and murder him directly.  She knew the hate had simmered for years, but she never thought Lucinda would stoop to pure murder.  Mary knew a little of the vicious politics that circled around Roland amid the merchant circles.  But she never thought that it could turn so bloody so quickly.  The world going mad with violence and harsh judgments, death the penalty for so many crimes now.

As it would be for her own supposed crime.  Mary's final meal was a sad state.  A simple meal of bread and a bland meat of some sort, no last requests given here.  Just the left over dregs, even that a luxury.  By morning she would be headed for an appointment with the guillotine.  Justice swift and unrelenting in a case this gruesome.  She ate her final meal slowly, her spirit broken as she seasoned that final meal with her own tears.  In the morning she would cease to live.

She was lead back to her small cell.  The harsh cot on her back, but sleep would not come.  Mary could only imagine Lucinda's snide grins she gave her during the tribunal.  That dark furred murderess playing up her silver tongue.  The shocking nature of the evidence merely adding to the drama Lucinda gave the courtroom.  It would even have been entertaining to watch if it hadn't been her own head on the line to be taken.

The night crawled along.  But worse still was the hint of sunlight that seemed to creep up to the cell window.  It seemed like it had been no time at all as well.  A beautiful sunrise to herald her imminent execution.  She had very little time left in this world now.

As she was lead out, she thought that at least this nightmare would end.  Perhaps even she would finally find rest and a final peace.  A week of pain and suffering at it's end.  It was a relief as she was walked shackled down the hall to the public square.  Sunlight glittering cheerfully off the sharp blade.  The crowd jeering and eager to see 'justice' served in it's most primal, bloody form.

If it wasn't for that bitch Lucinda who was sitting there right up in the front she may have almost enjoyed her final day.  She was dressed in all black with her teary cheeks and red eyes mourning for the crowd, yet another show of drama for the public.  And Mary's rage built, not only was she going to get away with murder, but she was going to gloat about it to her victim.  A snide grin leered at Mary while she was forcibly pressed into the stock.  Pressed down to kneel against the cold ground and press her head through the deadly opening that would hold out her long neck for the blade's kiss.

She wanted to fight now.  But the guards were pushing her shoulders forced her down, already used to prisoners struggling at this last moment.  She fell to her knees harshly, the pain sending little sparks in her vision.  She wanted to hiss, spit, growl at Lucinda as she stood right in front of her.  The first to watch her die.  That smug look of satisfaction aimed just at her when Mary was pushed into the wooden frame and the stock was slammed close.  The pinch of wood on fur and flesh made her gasp out and tug back at the device that would condemn her life.  The thick wood designed to bare and hold out her long neck to take her head from her.

A priest muttered benedictions, looking bored as he watched Mary writhe her bound form.  Yet another prisoner to be sent to heaven, or hell perhaps.  More work for him this cold morning, and a line awaiting his work.  There was nothing she could do now, at least physically.  The wood frame was strong enough to hold badgers and wolverines for their gory fate.  And sadly Lucinda was out of spitting range.  But there was one thing she could still do at least.

"You bitch!  This was all your fault.  You're the one to gain.  Why would I kill the one person employing me!  You fffmmph!"  her cursing ends as a ball gag is forced around her muzzle.  Biting her tongue along with the finger of the guard who was forced to muzzle the condemned.  At least the priest had finally shut up his blathering.

Mary burned in anger now.  If it wasn't for Lucinda having to rub it in one more time she might have at least died in peace.  All of her anger focused on the fake mourning the dark furred ferret put on.  Her head was ringing as her sentence was announced.  She only had a minute left in this world.  and she put every final moment of it in cursing the foul woman who placed her here.  Somehow.  Somewhere.  She would get her revenge.

Her rage burned as she heard the clatter.  Even the sentence of death was just a distraction from her anger.  The world burned around her.  Then the blade kissed home.  A harsh burning of cold steel fell through her once pretty throat.  The world spun, and her cheek kissed the basket.  The sky above her could be seen suddenly, framed in the supports of the tall guillotine, the stock splashed with blood.

And the world began to fade.  Her hearing inundated by the roar of the crowd.  Cheering the visage of her body flopping fitfully on the ground without her head.  All she could see as she was held by her hair before them.  The physical pain fading with her darkening vision.  But her last image was Lucinda, and she focused all of her fading life in cursing the jill who put her here, hoping somehow, somewhere, karma would come and get her revenge.

The blackness of death swallowed her vision.  Her eyes wishing nothing but misfortune on the smiling form of Lucinda.  But then there was nothing she could do now.  Her body flopped on the ground.  Blood spraying copiously as her heart pounded it's last beats.  Her body growing still as that darkness finally overtake her.

The head was spiked, a warning to the crowds of the dangers of crime, and another sign of the dark times.  She would feed the ravens for the week, while her body was dumped into the mass grave for the day.  The head soon stolen and defaced as usual.  Other heads would be replacing it.  The guillotine was seeing plenty of use these days.

Night settled in, the city going to bed.  The ravens gone to roost from their pecking at those left aside from the guillotine's embrace.  But as the moon spills it's cold silver light on the land something begins to stir once more.

Marie's body begins to twitch.  Then stir.  Her consciousness returning with a dreamy slowness.  A graininess to her sensations.  Dull and listless.  But in her something burned.  That burning wish awakening in her.  Dark and cold now.  But ready.  Somehow she has been granted a second chance.  Looking over the gray and black world, little else to distract her now from what she knows she must do.

Revenge would be cold, but sweet, and she had all the time in the world now...
