Looks like a new moon tonight. Good. I'll need every bit of stealth I can get. Matt pulled his head back inside the window of his poky little room and cast around it, looking for anything else that he could take with him, the faint light coming in from outside illuminating his spartan surroundings. The SLF had "reclaimed" a cheap hotel a while back, and now used it as their base, though their rooms were far from luxurious. The bed barely even qualified as one, so Matt ignored it (though he did check underneath it, just in case). There was a lamp, which was currently switched off, and rested on a desk. Matt rummaged through it, but found only old papers, receipts, and a small rubber bouncy ball. He considered the bouncy ball for a bit, then pocketed it. Seeing as there was nothing else in the room, Matt was satisfied that he had inspected the room thoroughly. He turned towards the door to check if anyone were coming,
and found himself face to face with a very surprised guard. Matt wasted no time in bullrushing the man, shoving him to the ground and running out the open door before he could get out much more than an aborted cry of "Escapee!" Matt stumbled over the guard's body, but found his footing and kept running, aiming for the stairwell at the end of the hallway his room was in. People opened their doors behind him, groggy and annoyed, to see what all the noise was, only to see Matt Souza, who had been part of the SLF almost since its inception, sprinting away down the hall. The cry of "Escapee!" went up all around the hotel, and just as Matt reached the stairwell, a pack of armed guards came up from the bottom of the staircase, searching for Matt. He turned around to see if he could escape that way, only to spy another set of guards rushing towards him with menacing expressions.
Looks like there's only one way to go, then. Matt started sprinting up the stairs, taking them three at a time, externally calm and internally
freaking out.
When he reached the top, Matt knew he was stuck. The hotel was the shortest building in the area by a wide margin, which made it nigh-impossible to jump to any of the neighboring roofs. He looked over the side of the building, only to see even more guards waiting for him there. He gave them a cocky smirk and a mocking salute, but quickly moved away from the edge once they started aiming their guns at him.
The story was the same on any of the other three sides of the building. With even more guards coming up the staircase after him, Matthew Souza was well and truly trapped. As he heard the guards clumping up the stairway, Matt remembered the bouncy ball he had grabbed.
Meh, whatever. I'm dead anyway. He took it out of his pocket and prepared to huck it at the first person to come out of that stairwell.
The door suddenly flew open, and just as the person in front came out, Matt threw the bouncy ball at them with all his strength. He was rewarded with an "Agh!" of pain, but immediately afterwards, his blood turned to ice. He knew that voice.
The Supreme Leader of the Sink Liberation Front, Alexander de Bourgh, stared at Matt with undisguised hatred.
"Guards," he said, voice quivering with rage,
"get him."-----
The execution took place immediately. Alexander had his guards grab Matt and bring him (a tad too rough for Matt's taste) to the center courtyard that all the rooms looked onto. There he knelt, hands bound behind him and a gun to his head, as Alexander's guards went around and woke everyone up; they were required to watch every execution, so that everyone knew what would happen if they betrayed the SLF.
Ordinarily, Matt knew, he'd be incredibly nervous, what with all the people watching him and the impending death and all. But now he felt a calm steal over him; he had accepted his fate, and made his peace with it. Having all eyes on him no longer bothered him; after all, what did it matter? He was a dead man.
Soon enough, everyone was outside on the balcony-cum-walkway that ran around the inside of the central courtyard, looking down at the pair below. Alexander had calmed down somewhat, though his gray eyes still twitched every so often, as he remembered the humiliation Matt had put him through. Once everyone was outside and the guards had returned, he began speaking to the SLF's members, taking the gun away from Matt's face and gesturing grandly to the crowd.
"People of the Sink Liberation Front!" he shouted.
"Here kneels before you Matthew Souza, one of our oldest members, and a traitor to the cause!" He waited for the boos and shocked gasps to die down.
"He has been charged with attempting to escape, theft of SLF property, and treason! For these crimes, he is to be summarily executed! By yours truly, Alexander de Bourgh!" Alexander took a deep bow, to the cheers of the crowd. Matt could see some of the guards going around and prodding people who weren't cheering loud enough.
"Now!" With one word, Alexander cut off the cheering, leaving only silence before he spoke again.
"Does the accused have any last words?" he said mockingly, jamming the gun against Matt's forehead again.
Matt felt a surge of excitement, and he allowed himself to smile slightly in spite of himself. This was it.
"I do. To start with, you're a liar and you know it, Supreme Leader. We both know that the SLF is just an excuse to have your own little pet terrorist group, filled with people who do nothing but what you say. You're an asshole, a sociopath, and someone who should be put down for the good of the world, same as you're doing to me." Alexander looked at him disdainfully.
"Yes, yes, I've heard all of that before. Anything else, or are you done?" Matt looked up, directly into his eyes, his smile now a fully-fledged grin.
"I hope you choke on a rubber bouncy ball, you dictatorial fuckwad." All the color left Alexander's face, only to be replaced with bright red. He tried to say something, but all that came out was furious spittle and incoherent noises. Matt's grin grew even wider.
"Aww. Did I break the widdle Supreme Leader?" "SHUT UP!" The gun barked once, twice, thrice, and again and again until Matt's body was riddled full of holes, all leaking a bright red. He was dead after the first shot, but his face was frozen eternally into a rictus grin, mocking Alexander for all time.
Said "dictatorial fuckwad" was panting in exertion, face bright red and dripping with sweat. He turned back to the crowd, pointing accusingly at Matt's corpse.
"See what happens to traitors?! They die!" But this traitor, as it turns out, still had a bit of life left in him...
Member
Fetzen