The Blood Mile
Disclaimer: non-Yiff...sry, Snuff, and basically a short excert from a larger story that will likely never be finished so enjoy it if your in the mood to hear about an interesting death and let me know what you think. ideas and expansions are always welcome, all rights reserverd.
I was standing in front of a door. On the other side, a street filled with cheering citizens. I never liked appearing before large crowds of people and today was no different, I was terrified. A lot of people hate being in front of crowds because they say they feel naked. That wasn't my problem, because I already was naked. I guess that's what I get for attempting, and failing, to assassinate the Lord Marshal of Deras. So here I am, a butt naked fox tailed Relton about to be fed to a cheering mob of blood thirsty Draconians...shit. There's some good news, I'm technically free, all I have to do is run the length of this one mile street and make it to the city gate. If I do, the "merciful" Lord Marshal will spare me and let me return to my home nation of Fel 'Ran. Problem is that I have to make it down a five foot wide opening lined with club and rock wielding Dragon Men.
I knew that waiting for me just beyond these doors lay the blood mile. It was the main street of Brinon, the draconian capital and it ran straight from the city's main gate to the castle keep exactly one mile away. The aptly named "Bloody Mile" is where the draconian citizens normally celebrate their festivals, hold parades, and do any other sorts of celebrating that may be called for. The catch is that Draconian celebrations usually involve slaughtering prisoners of war, or if none are available, whoever happens to be rotting in the castle dungeons that day.
But today was special, because I had made a direct attempt on the Lord Marshal's life he had decided to make an example of me. He had invited the entire city to partake in the execution. The crowd had begun to gather at about sunrise, I know because I could hear them from my cell which overlooked the Bloody Mile. Still drunk from the night before, they had pushed and shoved, argued and fought for their places along the road. An hour after sunrise the twenty foot wide street was reduces to a five foot wide lane and an endless mob of cramped draconian. The ones near enough to the road to swing were holding bamboo rods, the thin rods were strong enough to cause a lot of pain but not to kill right away. The farther back I looked the thicker the rods became. The idea being that they maximize the amount of people who get to me while still ensuring that I never make it to the end of the mile. The promise of freedom is just meant to keep me moving, again, so that more people get to partake in the excitement.
Somewhere in the distance a bell tower struck noon and I knew I was out of time.
"Time to go," said one of the guards standing behind me. I could barely understand his harsh voice, even though he was speaking common. "You don't want to keep the crowd waiting do you? haha". It was a malicious laugh, as a soldier he wasn't allowed to partake in the public beating, but there was no one to stop him from elbowing me in the back of my head. The blow sent me head first into the door and I landed on my knees.
"Ya, you're the man of the hour" the second guard laughed, while simultaneously kicking me in the balls.
Of all the curses and witty responses that came to mind, the only thing that I could vocalize was "oooooooo". A massive clawed hand grabbed me around the neck and yanked me to my feet. I immediately fell back to my knees. The sharp pain in my knees took away from the mind numbing ache of my testicles and this time I was able to give an actual reply "I can't stand; there's no way I'll be able to walk, looks like you've ruined everyone's fun", I almost managed a smile.
A sharp sword poke into my back made a liar out of me. I was on my feet in time for the doors to swing open and a guard to shove me out onto the stone steps. The crowd erupted into frenzy as I stumbled down the steps towards the street. One overeager bystander rushed from the crowd to try and get the first whack at me. He was quickly pushed back by the city guards. Even as I was about to be mobbed to death I had to give credit to the discipline of the draconian army, the Lord Marshal said I would be beaten from the start of the Bloody Mile till the city gate, and following his orders to the letter, my punishment would not start until I set foot onto the Bloody Mile.
I straightened up and tried to muster what shreds of dignity I had left. Which wasn't much. I took a deep breath and descended the last twelve steps to the Blood Mile. I stopped just before the mile, and looked at the first draconian on the left side of the path. It was the one that had tried to rush me as I stumbled down the steps. God I hated him.
He was over eight feet tall, three feet above me. Wearing a brown tunic and gold chains around his neck and upper arms, must have been royalty or something. He was holding a bamboo rod about three feet long and identical to the ones being held by just about every draconian surrounding him. I suppose they didn't want me to die too quickly or something because they hardly looked leathal.
His mouth parted in a grin, just enough to show his dagger like teeth. One of them was covered in gold, definitely royalty. I was so close to him that his hot breath washed over me. The warmth might have felt good in the chill morning, but the stench of meat rotting between his teeth made me want to vomit. He was breathing quickly; I figured he was excited that he would have a chance to draw first blood. Just to piss him off I reached behind my back to where the guard had poked me with his sword. I ran my fingers along the line of blood that was trickling down my back. I held my bloody fingers up to his face and let the crimson liquid pool on my finger and drop, ever so slowly, towards the brown stone of the Bloody Mile. The draconian's grin curled into a snarl as he watched the blood fall, the first drop of the river that was sure to flow.
I was going to die; I'd made peace with that on the short walk from the door to this step. There was no way I could avoid all of the clubs and rocks that would follow, but if I could avoid this guy, this overeager draconian who had tried to rush me on the stairs, and who was now being held back by a guard as we had our momentary standoff. If I could just make it out of his reach .If I could deprive just this one draconian the satisfaction of beating me, I'd consider that a victory.
The lone drop of blood hit the stone street, and with a flick of my tail I was off. I leapt from the stone steps, grateful for my races natural agility. I flicked my tail in the eyes of that bastard draconian, who was still staring at the drop of blood on the floor. The suddenness of my jump took the crowd by surprise, and I hit the ground five draconian in before the first one thought to swing his rod at me. I rolled as I hit the ground, narrowly avoiding the first club, but catching a whack on my thigh from a second. I came to a crouched position and used my arms to protect my face as I struggled forward.
I ran down the street in a crouched position, exposing my back in an effort to protect my head and face. Blows rained down mercilessly from the crowd, everyone eager to get a whack at the fleeing prisoner. My skin sting with every blow and the pain grew sharper with each strike. It wasn't long before my back had been beaten to a bloody pulp. Droplets of blood were crawling down my sides and dropping off as I ran. I'd made it almost one hundred yards when suddenly the size of the clubs changed noticeably. What had been a stinging pain that cut skin but not much more, suddenly became bone crunching.
The solid wood of the clubs beat against my ribs and I screamed as I felt the first one break. But I couldn't stop. I couldn't cry for help or ask for a doctor, I had to keep going. Blows continued to come at me from every side, leaving bruises and broken ribs in their wake.
My pace slowed, the pain was becoming unbearable, and I could hardly breathe with my broken ribs. I dropped to my hands and knees, unable to breath. Someone's foot came down on my right hand. I screamed in pain as the bones in my fingers snapped and crunched. The clawed foot twisted it's heel and I watched as three of my fingers separated from my hand.
The horror sent me into hysterics. A rush of panic and adrenalin shot me to my feet and I ran blindly down the blood mile. I began to hyperventilate and the light headedness helped me ignore the sticks that struck me from all sides. I began to think I might make it, the faint hope of survival pushed me faster and faster. My heart was racing and blood was flowing freely from the cuts into my back and my ruined hand. Even with my blurred vision, the city gate was within sight, I was almost free.
I pushed as hard as I could, forgetting pain and broken bones as I sprinted for the gate. When I felt I couldn't run any faster, that I had reached my limit, I was suddenly pulled up short. A hand had shot from the crowd and caught my tail in an iron grip. I was pulled back, but my feet kept running. I landed on my back; as soon as my head hit the ground a club came down to strike me in the face. The blow broke my nose, but no blood came out. Id lost too much, used too much energy with that panicked run. I rolled onto my stomach and pushed myself to my hands and knees.
As I gasped desperately for breath a foot came up from under me and struck me in the chest, hard. The kick lifted me off the ground and pushed what little air I had out of my lungs. There was a crack and stabbing sensation through my chest. One of my ribs had ruptured my lung.
There was no scream, no death cry, I just collapsed to the ground. I couldn't breathe, and now I couldn't even gasp for breath. I just lay there, prostrated on the ground staring blankly at the cheering throng. The crowd that was cheering for my death. Is this how it ends? Am I really going to die here? Like this? I felt nothing, no pain, no emotion, nothing. As my vision grew blurry I could see one draconian being lifted by the crowd. It was the bastard that had rushed me on the stairs, the one I thought I had evaded. He must have run to the end of the road hoping for a second chance at me. He got it, he'd been the one that kicked me, the one that killed me.
He moved towards me and the crowd parted for him. He stood gazing down at me like I was some sort of prize, like he was a great hunter that caught a unicorn. He reached down and touched my cheek, his reptilian face twisted into a grin, and then everything went dark.
*****
I woke up. Something I normally take for granted but I had just died, hadn't I? Was it all just a dream? No, there had been far too much pain for it to be a dream. Even now I could feel my body ache and throb from the beating I had taken. I opened my eyes, slowly, still afraid of what I might see.
My first thought was that I was blind, because all I saw was a grey blur, and then I realized it was just fog. That was one relief; another was that I didn't see a single draconian anywhere around me. In fact I didn't see anything around me, just, fog. I sat up to get a better view, but all I could see was a vast expanse of fog and nothing...