Capítulo 7: The Execution
"I'd like to see you try, Commander."
Leon's words came back to haunt him as his entire body grew cold, and they dragged him to the platform. It was elevated so they could see his death more clearly.
They pushed him roughly to his knees, the rough wooden surface of the platform scratching against the fabric of his pants. His eyes dropped to the floor, searching for reason in his mind.
They didn't even give him time to grieve and mourn his beloved sister. They were so adamant about killing him, getting that task out of the way.
Leon tried to comfort himself by thinking of his sister's smile, but the only thing that entered his mind were vile words and anguished screams that he couldn't even let out.
With a resigned gaze, Leon lifted his head to meet his executioners. They stood beside him, masks hiding their identity, but Leon could easily smell their fear... their anticipation of his death.
It smelled sour and acrid.
The two executioners held sharp silver swords that made Leon's heart pound in his chest.
"Begin! Leon Kreutz will be facing his crimes!"
The audience echoed Percival's words like a macabre chorus. Leon could hear their rapid heartbeats so clearly, knowing how much they thirsted for his blood.
"Kill the vampire!"
"Kill the vampire!"
"Kill the vampire!"
Without missing a single beat, Leon saw the glint of silver in his peripheral vision, then—
"Aghk-"
A choked sound was ripped from his throat as he felt the silver piercing through his chest. It was a white-hot agony that seared through every fiber of his being.
The silver burned through his flesh, a sign of his impurity.
He gasped out, his body seized in pain, and instinctively tried to pull away, but the other executioner held him down in agony. Leon's cheek met the hard floor with a loud 'thud.'
Blood trickled from the wound, staining his white shirt crimson as he spat out the blood from his mouth. Then the sword was pulled back from his chest, there was a second of darkness in Leon's vision before it plunged deeper into him once more.
And again.
And again.
And again.
The pain was excruciating as garbled sounds of pain continued to escape Leon's blood-stained lips. His vision was dimming at the edges, his ears were ringing—
But Leon did not die.
His body refused to.
He couldn't die.
The executioners were taken aback when Leon's body seized in pain once more, the blade was pushed deeper inside of him. A scream filled with agony echoed throughout the room.
The executioner grunted when he yanked the sword out of Leon's chest again, a searing pain burned through Leon's entire body. Through the haze of pain, Leon could hear muffled words from Percival, "-Shut him up!"
Leon's eyes glimmered with bloodied tears; he tried to shake his head, to dodge the blade coming right down at him, but there was nothing more he could do.
The sword pierced through his throat, cutting off his air supply and rendering his vocal cords useless. He was skewered, like a mere display.
It was a barbaric display of their power over him, the cruelty of their actions knows no bounds as his body writhed in agony.
Leon could feel blood bubbling in his throat, in his lungs. He could not speak or utter a single sound.
They continued their attempts to end his life. Again and again and again. They continued to stab him like barbaric monsters, his blood splattering all over the platform.
Leon could not count how many times they drove the blade into him; his mind was long gone. The only thing in his mind was pain.
Leon gasped for breaths that he could no longer draw—
It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts hurts hurt hurt hurt hurt hurt HURT HURT HURT HURT HURT HURT HURT HURT HURT
His eyes narrowed into pinpricks as he stared emptily into the void, waves of pain seared through his mutilated body.
It hurts.
Leon was desperate for his death; he wanted to turn into ash like all other vampires do. Why couldn't he? Why can't he die?
It hurts.
The pain was unrelenting. It did not stop. It did not rest. It was a tsunami that threatened to drown him in its suffocating embrace.
It hurts.
Leon could hear the audience cheer his death; the humans were so cruel to him. In their eyes, he was nothing more than a disgusting creature that should be killed.
Death refused to accept him, and Leon longed for release. A respite from all of these vile and cruel emotions that started to eat away at him.
He tried to speak, but a broken whisper was the only thing he could let out, "L-Let it end,"
It did not.
As hours melded into an incoherent blur of pain, a realization so clear had cut through his fog of pain. It was the bitter truth that he had refused to swallow.
They had betrayed him.
He could feel the depths of their betrayal, the disgusting depths of darkness that dwelled in their hearts.
The humans that Leon knew were compassionate, loving, and kind. They were the ones he swore to protect. He should not hurt them. They were innocent, innocent, innocent;
They delivered him to this gruesome fate.
Something blurred in his mind, like a thick tendril of hatred that wanted to swallow him whole.
Viktoria was compassionate, loving, and kind. She was the one he swore to protect.
...That's right.
Right. Right. Right.
It was all for Viktoria. Not for them.
It was never about them.
But Viktoria was gone.
It was so crystal clear now. Like a veil was lifted from his eyes, that was the truth. The truth that he had pushed away for so long.
Leon did not have to die. That would be such a stupid thing to do. He needed to live on. That was what Viktoria would have wanted. Leon would do anything for Viktoria.
In that brutal moment of realization, Leon was able to grab the executioner's wrist. Without a single second of hesitation, Leon's fangs sank deep into the human's flesh.
The man let out a pained cry as his life force was being drained away. This is what Leon had needed for so long; he denied it for so, so long.
The taste of blood was overwhelming Leon's senses as he was able to overpower the executioner. His knees dug into the man's lungs as Leon pierced his fangs into his neck.
With each swallow, he could feel something shifting inside of him. It was unlike everything he had ever experienced. The taste of human blood was so different from the animal blood he was used to.
It was rich and warm as it slid down his throat; the taste was like ambrosia. It awakened a dormant instinct within him.
The scene around him was pure chaos, the audience running around in blind panic. Leon would not let them escape;
"DO NOT MOVE."
The sound Leon made was guttural and animalistic like it did not come out from his own throat.
It was like a sudden lock was opened inside Leon's mind; the command was instinctual to him. Like he had done this before. Everyone had stopped, frozen as if time did not affect them.
Leon's thrall was ingrained deep into their commands. An ability that only a few vampires could master, but to this extent... it was almost impossible.
But Leon was able to do it.
With a soft groan, Leon pulled back from his meal. The man he had just fed from had died; he shakily stood up from the ground, feeling his previous wounds slowly healing themselves.
"Ah...Ah..." He took a deep breath before pulling the sword out of his neck. Leon tested the words on his tongue. "G-Good. Good." It was raspy at first, but it was healing.
Leon shifted his attention to the people inside the room, watching the fear and surprise etched on their frozen faces... it was exhilarating.
Leon would enjoy every moment with them.
He slowly made his way towards the next executioner, making sure that they would watch before his sharp nails went through the man's neck.
A crude recreation of what he had endured.
Leon's breath hitched at the back of his throat before he drank the man's blood. The more he drank, the more his world shifted. He could feel raw power coursing through his veins, satisfying the emptiness he felt in his core.
The thought of his actions being cruel had now faded into a dull whisper in his mind. It was unimportant. Leon needed to feed; he needed to heal his wounds.
He couldn't stop himself; the primal urge to consume had fully consumed him.
Leon could feel the executioner's heartbeats slow down as he pulled back. The man tried to stop the blood from pooling down his neck, but it was to no avail.
Leon shoved his dying body to the side, wiping the blood off his face as he searched for his next meal.
He knew who it was.
A smile formed at the corner of his lips as he locked eyes with Percival. "Too bad, commander.
REFLEXIONES DE LOS CREADORES 
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Thank you so much for reading! I'm a new author so please be kind to me. I would greatly appreciate comments, suggestions, and reviews about my story.
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