Appeasement

A ring covered hand points a long, thin finger in my direction.  With it, a sentence has been declared.  It is more than enough for the wolves to turn on me; a tasty morsel provided to satisfy the empty bellies of the growing crowd.  Accusatory glances and gestures ripple in response, ushering in a cataclysmic shift within my psyche.  The ground has become my enemy.  An earthquake rages out of nowhere, one that only I seem to be affected by, threatening my balance.  It takes my full concentration just to remain upright.  

As the famished wolves encircle, I force out words defensively, hurling them with force as if they could possibly physically disrupt the surrounding crowd.  “Wait!  Stop!  Please!  All I have ever done was in the service of my lord.  Ask of me something, anything my lord.  Please...”

I crane my neck to see past the bystanders to the man with the rings seated high upon his horse.  There is no light left within his eyes.  In fact, there are no eyes whatsoever within his decrepit skull.  I realize now that there will be no consideration for my desperate pleas. 

A voice from the crowd snaps my attention back to the surging, hungry swarm.   “Hey, traitor! Why don't you tell us how the dirt tastes?”  

Rough arms ensnared me swiftly, shock and disbelief leaving me vulnerable.  My jaw hangs agape as my head plunges down into the wet ground.  The day's rain had turned the countryside into nothing short of a gritty, rocky sludge.  The taste  is revolting.  The texture  is even more abhorrent.  It harshly fills my nose and the inside of my mouth as the weight of multiple boots fall heavily upon my back from all angles.  I struggle to find air.  There is little space for it as I become fully immobilized.  I try to force a portion of the mess down to make room, but I am unable.  I can feel it fast approaching.  The end for one such as I, gullible enough to believe that it would not happen to them as it had for others.