Hangman's Noose
After Party
"Hello, Lass, how was the hanging?" Mrs. Drack asked as she stabbed a potato with a carving knife.
"His neck snapped."
"That's all? Not a good dat, eh Lass?" I threw my coat in the closet on its hook and sighed. The loud crack echoed through the silent halls of the house. 'I'll be back.'
"Actually, very eventful. I'm going to bed, Ciaran."
"Is everything OK, little Babe?" Mrs. Drack's Irish accent made my ears ring, yet I kept walking to the basement door.
"Yah, just dandy." I mumbled and slammed the door behind me.
_______________________________________________________________________
My body lay limp in the small bed next to the wall, the days events repeating in my head. After the hanging, everyone ended up cheering and going to the local pub. Everyone in the town easily fit into the large building very comfortably. Whispers of The Lion were floating around a crowd of drunken humans.
That's when it all went wrong.
Joe, one of the Killers that helped in the hanging of The Lion, stood up on the bar waving his beer in the air, its contents spilling on the crowd like rain. "That Lion was no match for MY superiority! I could've killed him with my own two hands!" He had yelled.
"Mr. Lion was all talk! He couldn't kill a fly! An idiot that fellow was!" He boasted.
That's when it happened.
Somehow Joe had stepped too far back and had fallen off of the bar. Everyone had started to run to his aid, but quickly stopped as gunshots rang through the thick, smoky, humid air. The gargle came from behind the bar and then the shots stopped. Another Killer and I were the first to see; me jumping on top of the bar, the Killer jumping over it.
Joe lay dead on the ground, choking on his own blood. A miniture, doll-sized noose lay on his chest.
"I'll be back."
And he had indeed been back.
"His neck snapped."
"That's all? Not a good dat, eh Lass?" I threw my coat in the closet on its hook and sighed. The loud crack echoed through the silent halls of the house. 'I'll be back.'
"Actually, very eventful. I'm going to bed, Ciaran."
"Is everything OK, little Babe?" Mrs. Drack's Irish accent made my ears ring, yet I kept walking to the basement door.
"Yah, just dandy." I mumbled and slammed the door behind me.
_______________________________________________________________________
My body lay limp in the small bed next to the wall, the days events repeating in my head. After the hanging, everyone ended up cheering and going to the local pub. Everyone in the town easily fit into the large building very comfortably. Whispers of The Lion were floating around a crowd of drunken humans.
That's when it all went wrong.
Joe, one of the Killers that helped in the hanging of The Lion, stood up on the bar waving his beer in the air, its contents spilling on the crowd like rain. "That Lion was no match for MY superiority! I could've killed him with my own two hands!" He had yelled.
"Mr. Lion was all talk! He couldn't kill a fly! An idiot that fellow was!" He boasted.
That's when it happened.
Somehow Joe had stepped too far back and had fallen off of the bar. Everyone had started to run to his aid, but quickly stopped as gunshots rang through the thick, smoky, humid air. The gargle came from behind the bar and then the shots stopped. Another Killer and I were the first to see; me jumping on top of the bar, the Killer jumping over it.
Joe lay dead on the ground, choking on his own blood. A miniture, doll-sized noose lay on his chest.
"I'll be back."
And he had indeed been back.