The judge raised his hands again, trying to quiet the frenzy before it grew too strong. After a fruitless attempt, he resorted to raising his voice, announcing to the man, “I'm afraid the evidence does not support your claim. Seeing as you have no further proof—” “Wait, wait!” the man cried. But his words were drowned out by the buzz of the crowd. One of the flintlock-holders kicked in his knees. The man buckled to the ground. “—you are officially pronounced guilty of all charges—” The mob surged to the front of the stage in a flurry of arms and dirty bodies. Grey-toothed smiles appeared as they realized what was to come. “—and you will face immediate capital punishment by our executioner.” The crowd broke into a series of chants and shrieks, resuming the throwing of items at the stage. “Your fate will be a warning to the others,” the judge told the man. “With this beast’s death,” he cried to the crowd, “a hundred men will be saved!” Everyone cheered as a tall man entered the stage, carrying a long, rusted flintlock in one hand. The screams grew louder than ever as he pushed a silver ball into the barrel, aiming it at the head of the kneeling man. BANG! ** They carried off his body not long after, marching through the streets in search of a pike to place his head on. It was decided to put the pike in the center of town. “It’ll ward off th’ others,” one said as the judge embedded the wood into the soft, bloody dirt. “Keep ‘em away from our fam’lies.” “Tha’ monster d’served it,” another agreed. “Wha’s one death matter if it’ll save all of us?” The town entered their homes that night in peace. Some stumbled through the door, sloshing tankards still in hand and the taste of victory on their lips. Everyone slept well that night, comforted by the warm blanket of hope. But another body was found two days later, and another appeared a week after that. More came in the autumn months, found buried and ravaged by claws and teeth. And each day, the townsfolk passed the decaying, misshapen head that was planted in the middle of town, wondering why their silver bullet had not worked.
120
