[ WP ] You are a former executioner . Describe your final killing .

*It's not first person but oh well. * 
 
 
 The blessing took the longest. 
 
 If Gareth was allowed to operate on his own schedule, the executions would be done in less than an hour. Rope, drop, done. But no. No, the priests just had to be included. Just had to gyrate their way across the platform, chanting Our Fathers and Hail Mary ’ s and making the sign of the cross with pale, flimsy hands until the crowd started shifting and murmuring, “ get it over with, already. ” Then the priests would step to the side and fold their hands and tip their heads to heaven, silently granting Gareth permission, as if he needed their say-so to do his job. 
 
 One time he ’ d pulled the lever early, before the priests even got a chance to get started, and they ’ d threatened to excommunicate him if he did it again. ( The man being executed was a Protestant, and he said he ’ d consider it a personal favor if Gareth would save him the embarrassment of being absolved of his sins by a Roman Catholic. Gareth was not one to deny last requests. ) 
 
 The trick to a speeding everything along, he ’ d explained once -- and only once, because people didn ’ t like to hear about executions unless they were well drunk -- was the length of the rope. The further someone fell, the better chance you had that their neck would snap and that would be that. No twitching and suffocating and getting blue in the face. Thieves got the long drop, because no one cared enough to tell Gareth to “ make it last. ” The big men, though... the officials and the bankers... they got the short rope, because most people enjoyed waiting around for a fat banker to die. “ It ’ s funny, ” they said. “ Don ’ t you think, Gareth? Isn ’ t it funny to watch the big strong men wet themselves when the rope goes over their heads? ” 
 
 The priest on the platform stopped crossing himself and Gareth tightened his grip on the lever. An angry hum started in the crowd. It had been a long day, and they ’ d learned to conserve the shouting for the drop. Seven people had been executed so far, and each time the explosion of noise that accompanied the trap door ’ s opening made the hairs on the back of Gareth ’ s neck stand on end. I was a poisonous energy, different from any other execution Gareth had presided over. 
 
 The priest nodded and Gareth pulled the lever. 
 
 The trapdoor opened and hundreds of eyes followed the administrator ’ s descent. They cheered and clapped and Gareth watched the thick rope bouncing as the man died. 
 
 “ What will you do after this, Gareth? ” 
 
 Gareth started. He glanced over his shoulder. There was a man standing near the stairs, watching Gareth casually. His hands were behind his back, the picture of patience as he waited for Gareth ’ s answer. 
 
 Gareth looked back at the rope. Still twitching. “ Dunno. ” 
 “ You don ’ t know, or you ’ d rather not tell me? ” 
 
 “ Haven ’ t thought about it. ” 
 
 “ You do realize you ’ ll be out of a job after today? ” 
 
 “ I figured. ” 
 
 “ And no plans for the future. ” The man smiled and shook his head. “ That ’ s not how successful people do things, Gareth. ” 
 
 Gareth shrugged. Thomas, the young boy who was something of an executioner ’ s apprentice, popped up through the trapdoor, the noose slung over his shoulder. He tossed the rope to the platform and Gareth began winding the rope. Thomas pulled the trapdoor shut. 
 
 A guard shouldered his way through the group near the stairs, dragging a wailing woman behind him. 
 
 “ Oh. ” The man took a step back. “ Pardon me, Lady Isabelle. ” He turned back to Gareth as Gareth locked the lever in place again. “ You could always be a farmer. ” 
 
 “ Don ’ t know how. ” 
 
 “ I ’ ve heard it ’ s really quite easy. ” 
 
 Gareth grunted. He pointed toward Lady Isabelle, who was looking faint next to the hanging noose. “ I got ta... ” 
 
 “ By all means. ” 
 
 Gareth ’ s appearance on the platform hushed the jeering crowd. Lady Isabelle ’ s eyes were closed and her cheeks were drenched with tears as Gareth slipped the noose over her head. 
 
 “ Will you miss it? ” the man asked when Gareth returned. 
 
 Gareth shrugged. “ Be a morbid thing to miss. ” 
 
 “ Maybe, ” the man conceded. “ If you give them time, I ’ m sure they ’ ll find someone for you to kill. ” 
 
 “ Execute, ” Gareth corrected. There was a difference. “ And they said no. They said after this, executions are done. We ’ re a democracy now, and we don ’ t execute. ” 
 
 “ Execute arbitrarily, ” the man corrected. “ There is a difference. ” 
 
 Gareth didn ’ t answer. The priest nodded. Gareth pulled the lever and Lady Isabelle dropped. 
 
 “ I ’ d buy into this whole democracy idea if they hadn ’ t decided the whole Cormac line had to go for it to work. ” 
 
 “ You did have your chance, ” Gareth said, and the man laughed. 
 
 “ So you do know who I am, ” he said. 
 
 Gareth tipped his head to the side. “ Majesty. ” 
 
 “ Just Edward now, I ’ m afraid. ” Edward grinned maniacally. “ It ’ s a democracy now, Gareth, remember? ” 
 
 Thomas had crawled from the trapdoor again. Gareth began winding the rope. 
 
 “ You know, this is the first time I ’ ve been to one of these to watch you work, ” Edward said. “ You are efficient, Gareth. ” 
 
 Another soldier pushed past, leading a short fat man with a red face and bushy orange eyebrows. 
 
 “ Try to draw it out, Arthur, eh? ” Edward called after him. He flashed his teeth at Gareth. “ That fat windbag. I thought for sure he ’ d weasel his way out of this. ” 
 
 Gareth excused himself to squeeze the noose over Arthur ’ s thick neck. 
 
 “ Savages, ” Arthur spat. His small eyes were rolling in their sockets. “ You ’ re all savages. ” 
 
 “ Told you, ” Edward said sagely. “ That bastard always has something to say. ” 
 
 Gareth didn ’ t answer. 
 
 “ King ’ s Executioner, ” Edward said after a moment. “ Is that irony, Gareth? For your title to be your job description? ” 
 
 “ Dunno. What ’ s irony? ” 
 
 “ Not important. ” Edward nodded. “ I think they ’ re ready for you. ” 
 
 Gareth pulled the lever, and Edward bellowed with the rest of the crowd when Arthur dropped. 
 
 “ By God, if I would have known how good that felt, I would have had him executed years ago. Who ’ s next? ” 
 
 “ Your wife, ” Gareth said, and Edward ’ s smile evaporated. 
 
 “ I thought she went yesterday, ” he said. There was an edge of anger to his voice, and for a moment Gareth could see the proud king he ’ d been before the revolution. 
 
 “ They changed their minds. ” 
 
 Edward ’ s eyes went hard. He turned to stare out at the gathered crowd. He did not say anything else, and when Gareth began winding the noose again Edward ducked his head and closed his eyes. Gareth saw his jaw tighten when the queen was dragged past, but he did not open his eyes; not when the priest started his chanting and not when the trapdoor slammed open. 
 
 “ I ’ d like -- ” Edward ’ s voice cracked. He cleared his throat. “ I ’ d like to thank you, Gareth. For doing my dirty work. And... ” Edward jerked his chin at the crowd. “ For doing theirs. ” 
 
 Gareth paused. “ Well... you never sent me any kids. So thanks for that, I guess. ” 
 
 Edward nodded jerkily. 
 
 “ You ’ re next, ” Gareth said, and Edward set his shoulders. 
 
 Gareth followed him across the platform and the crowd fell deathly silent. This was what they ’ d been waiting for. The main event, Gareth thought. King Edward Cormac, the man who ’ d fought the Danes lived high on the spoils of war and wore silk to bed. King Edward Cormac, dying like a common man. 
 
 “ It ’ s been enlightening, Gareth, ” Edward said. Gareth placed the noose around his neck. 
 
 Gareth paused. In his fifteen years as executioner, he ’ d never felt compelled to talk with the sentenced. But this was different. The end of an era. The last person he ’ d ever pull the lever for, and it was the person who ’ d sent so many people his way. “ As kings go, you weren ’ t all that bad. ” 
 
 Edward laughed. Gareth moved out of the way of the priest, back to his position on the edge of the platform. He waited patiently, watching Edward glare back at the people shouting and throwing rotten vegetables on the platform. Gareth felt a flash of annoyance until he remembered he wouldn ’ t have to clean it up. After he pulled the lever, he wouldn ’ t be the King ’ s Executioner anymore. Wouldn ’ t have to clean up anybody ’ s messes. 
 
 *Not the King's Executioner anymore, * Gareth thought, *but always the King's executioner. * He felt like maybe he was on the verge of understanding irony, but then the priest nodded and Gareth's arm pulled the lever for the last time and the crowd erupted. 
 
 The trick, he remembered telling someone in a bar once, is to make sure you realize they're not cheering for *you*. 
 
 Someone clapped a hand on Gareth ’ s shoulder. Gareth turned. One of the men who ’ d sentenced the king ’ s court and presided over the executions was watching him solemnly, his face painted white, his collar starched. 
 
 “ Executioner. ” The man held out his hand. Gareth took it. “ Thank you for your service. 
 
 Gareth shrugged. “ My pleasure. ” 

