Chapter 5

Out for Blood
ooga

Innocent Proven Guilty
yikes

The Execution
Suricata cackled as the votes landed on Tetsuo, grinning and hopping on the stone button beside it, which sent a rope straight for the boy’s ankle dragging him away from his podium, into the darkness of the room beyond.

This wasn’t fair. He shouldn’t be here. He didn’t do it; why couldn’t anyone understand that? He stood in the dark, thinking to himself. He didn't kill Noriko. Sure, all the proof had pointed against him, but he didn't do it. It was Seiji he wanted to kill... and yet... did that goal make him just as guilty to Noriko's murder? His gaze wavered in the dark, pained from everyone in the trial being against him. He'd picked up the axe. But he'd never swung it at Noriko. He had no reason to kill the boy but everyone had landed the blame on him. Maybe this was what he deserved for even having any sort of murderous intent? But he was determined not to accept it - he deserved punishment but he wouldn't believe he deserved death.

Tetsuo caught his breath after being dragged into this dark room, away from his peers, presumably standing on the same floors he had died on. His heart raced. He was afraid. He didn’t want to go through with this. He was innocent. So why should he have to face this fate? The globetrotter didn’t get long to think to himself before the lights around him flickered to life. Squinting up at the blinding lights, Tetsuo failed to look down to his feet until it was too late. Slowly, he began to move forward against his will, causing him to glance down quickly. Beneath his feet lay a conveyor belt, and while nothing held his feet down, he felt no need to run back while he still could. Instead, he gazed ahead, pale blue eyes narrowed as cardboard grass cutouts passed by him. Then buildings, and the details of a town. He began to walk at the pace of the conveyor belt below him, which seemed to be gradually speeding up. The buildings began to change around him, ones he recognized, ones he couldn’t quite put his finger on, and others that made him sick to the stomach, like watching the Eiffel tower pass by.

He was unharmed for the moment, but only physically. For as he watched the surroundings change, not just on his left side but his right as well, he longed for the belt below him to halt. But it just kept speeding up, making it almost difficult for him to catch up. His feet felt heavy and his heart felt like a brick while the memories of his travels flooded his head and ate at him. The bonds he’d broken. The crimes he’d committed. The people, most not innocent, who now lay dead to his bloodied fists. Each memory was replaced by the next as he recognized a corner store cutout to his right, that he passed in a heartbeat, and an alleyway beside a diner, a river below a bridge, and they just piled up the longer he was rapidly rushed through this vague tour of his past. His throat was dry and he was beginning to run out of breath from the conveyor belt’s increase in speed; it was too fast for him to keep up, and he began falling back, brows furrowing with guilt and worry as he struggled to catch up, not wanting to see the same buildings over again as he fell back. The longer breaks he took, the farther back he felt he was falling, as though something had begun to pull him back because of his slower pace. But he kept trying, trying to keep up. It seemed like he was almost there, at first, before he realized just how far behind he'd gotten. His ankles felt heavy, almost restrained as he treaded onward, remaining determined for the time being as he fought to move forwards.

Heaving for breath, Tetsuo leaned forwards, hauling himself to run again and catch up to the speeding belt, until he felt a tug on his left wrist, and looked over. Beneath his scarred hand, a thick, barbed wire had snared around his wrist, digging into his skin and yanking him backwards. The globetrotter bit back a yelp of pain as the weight on his ankles felt extremely similar to that on his wrist, and his eyes widened with pure fear as he tried to fight against the wires pulling him the other way. They grew stronger the longer he fought to catch his breath, and finally he risked a glance over his shoulder. In the dark behind him, a swarm of hands, bloodied, burned, white, brown, tan, unscathed, small large- you name it- reached out towards him, a select few gripping the wires that pulled his ankles and wrist. He fearfully stared at the mass for a moment too long as he watched a wire shoot out like a whip and wrap tightly around his right wrist. Tetsuo clenched his teeth, tugging on the wire holding him back. No, no- he had to keep going. The conveyor belt had long since left him behind but he didn’t want to give up. He heaved and cried out, the skin on his wrists ripping from the barbs as he forced them forward, gritting his teeth to try and ignore the stinging, burning pain as the sharp spines on the wire dug into his open wounds. As his wide, fearful yet determined gaze remained fixed ahead of him, his feet could barely stay upright on the belt, as it was moving far too quickly for him to even stay balanced - and for the moment he was grateful for the wires keeping him from falling. But his bitter gratitude was swallowed up as he felt something grab his shoulder, and another thing grab at his face. Tetsuo’s heart sank. He was too late. His heart pounded in his ears as he frantically looked around in desperation, squirming as the hands that grabbed him ripped at his skin and clothes, and a few unlucky ones dug knives into the surface of his skin. His eyes began to flood with tears of pure terror; Tetsuo didn’t want to go. He didn’t deserve this. The whole point was for another chance, and now, the vengeful hands of the people he’d ever looked at on his travels were tearing him apart, and he would never get that chance. The chance to make things right. With Arrow, with everyone he'd wronged... he just wanted his chance back, but now it was too late.

Tetsuo’s breath hitched and he let out another, final cry as the hands began to swallow him in their swarm, a fifth barbed wire coiling around his throat as he was dragged in, his own outstretched, scarred hand joining the reaching masses before it disappeared. He squinted and heaved for another easy breath as the light went away. He prayed this wasn't the end. To whatever God out there, if there even was a God - He didn't want to die. As much as he craved it in his past he wanted nothing more than to live now. The wire around his throat began to tighten as the light of the room with the belt and the cutouts vanished from his vision. His vision that began to blur and distort as he couldn't breathe, tugging at the wire on his throat as the ones on his wrists and ankles only tightened as well. Would he be waiting? If this was the end... surely he would be able to see Arrow... if this was it. There was so much he wanted to tell him. So much he felt he never could once he'd watched the cowboy burn before his eyes. Tetsuo sobbed without any tears flowing as the hands continued to tear at his skin, making new wounds and opening them, scratching at his throat that was already being torn by the wire, eager to rip every ounce of life from the boy. He searched for a sliver of light, a sliver of hope ahead of him, but all he could see was the writhing swarm of hands, The urge to let his eyes close over was strong, but he refrained, not wanting to give in just yet. The battle wasn't over. Tetsuo tugged forward one last time, before his breathing began to shake, the scratch wound on his throat from the hands and wire growing too deep, and he began to cough soundlessly, blood flooding from his wounds and mouth as he met his end. His vision grew spotty, before it all went dark. As he stopped fighting, the hands seemed to let him go, dropping him on the belt once more and leaving him to his demise.

The conveyor belt slowly halted in a deathly silence, pools of blood staining its tracks now. The lights flickered out for a few heartbeats, the only sound being the tiny, slow dripping of blood on the concrete floor. One bulb above seemed to have enough strength to turn on. Its dim light shone down on the end of the tracks, blood smeared onto the ground that lay after the belt's end, where an unmoving figure lay. Tetsuo, battered, scarred, and appearing small and vulnerable in his ripped clothing. His pale, once burning, icy blue eyes were foggy and lifeless, staring out ahead, his face hardly recognizable from the cuts and bruises he’d received. Before he'd succumbed to death just a few moments prior, he'd spent his last seconds of life on a singular thought. Would Arrow have been proud? Proud of how hard he fought, how strongly he grieved and wished he could see the cowboy again after the third execution... all he wanted was to say... sorry. And he'd hoped he could. He hoped wherever he was going, heaven or hell, that the darling cowboy he missed so much would be there to welcome him. That... was all he wanted. He vaguely recalled when he'd heard Arrow's final cry during his execution... calling out to him. He just... wished he could do the same now, but Arrow was gone. No one would hear him, even if he could speak. Tetsuo had cried out to Arrow in his head, unable to move his mouth or body as he had drawn his dying breath on the conveyor belt. Now he lay motionless on the ground, body devoid of any life whatsoever. For he was no longer in it; he was long gone now, leaving his body to rot.

Just before the lightbulb died out again, the small figure of Suricata bounded over. It whipped out a pocket stamping press, leaned over to the corpse of the globetrotter, and pressed the stamp on his forehead. When it stood back, the stamp displayed the words ‘FRAGILE’, that you may find printed on a package with glass inside. The meerkat then began to giggle to itself. A little late for that detail, it remarked, grinning as everything went dark once more.