Posts Tagged ‘beheading’

King slayer by Suzanne-Helmigh on DeviantArt.com

The siege lasted a fortnight. Now, all had perished except them. He had escorted the Earl, Countess and the boy up the north tower steps. Before dawn, rhythmic pounding and Germanic shouts foretold their doom. Now, a barbarous roar as the tower door below crashes inward.

Sir Gareth of Sussex waits. Across the stone room, the royals cower in a dark corner. The grunts and growls grow louder as they ascend — shouts Edmund doesn’t understand but knows they mean death.

He spreads his stance, gripping the longsword with both hands. The first is nearly decapitated, but there are so many.

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Fallen from Grace by treijim on DeviantArt.com

Yallen was unarmed, but he would prove that a weapon doesn’t make a man.
Screams from the tavern signaled that the slaughter had begun. Through the door he saw old Marta vomit red steel.
A warrior laughed as he removed his sword from the back of her head.
“Yaaarrrggghhh!” screamed Yallen, and he ran into the fray, swinging a fist and smacking the invader’s metal-clad chest.
The bloody sword came around and sliced off the top of Yallen’s head. As he fell dying, he thought only that he had proven what an unarmed boy could do.

Enraged by TheBoyofCheese on DeviantArt.com

Marva ran her rough thumb down the axe blade, blood droplets bulging on the pad. She sucked it clean, then stomped outside, her breath billowing in the brisk air.

Tom stood beside the barn, watching a pig wallow, oblivious. Creeping up, Marva grabbed his scrawny neck with farm-strong hands. He squawked. She slammed him across a stump and swung her axe. His skinny legs jerked. Blood spurted sprinkler-like from his neck. His severed head shot to the ground. One eye stared at Marva, saying betrayal.

“Big thanks, Tom,” said Marva. “Whole family’s coming for Thanksgiving. Couldn’t feed them without you.”

Jesse by Seancarroll on DeviantArt.com

Bubba checked the smoker. Perfect coals.

“I’ll get the rump roast,” said Jesse. In the truck bed, three gagged Boy Scouts struggled against their bindings. The two skinny ones froze. The fat one inched away. Jesse grabbed his ankles. He flopped like a trout as Jesse dragged him to the bloody stump.

Jesse raised his axe. A ripping sound. Brown soaked through the boy’s shorts. “Damn.” Jesse lowered his axe. “Rump roast’s done spoiled!”

The boy looked up, hopeful.

“How ‘bout ribs?” Bubba hollered.

The boy’s muffled scream silenced with a CHOP! and that meat just fell off the bone.