The author narrates.
Vikram remained silent. He didn't move. He didn't breathe heavily. He didn't want that Executioner to see him. His body, still damp from the bath, felt exposed, vulnerable.
The Executioner began to scan the place with his eyes. He didn't walk. He didn't speak. He only slowly turned his pyramidal head, as if his eyes were everywhere. He was looking for something. Or rather... for someone.
And that's when his gaze met that of a small creature. That Vikram.
Vikram saw him turn. The tip of the pyramid ended up facing him. His heart leaped. He hid behind the pool wall, moving clumsily, as if fear had robbed him of his coordination.
"I hope he didn't see me... I'm too tired for this shit," he thought, shrinking as if the marble could swallow him whole. His mind added things he didn't say aloud: "Not now. Not again. Not when I was barely feeling human."
He stood there for a few seconds, holding his breath, hoping the Executioner would leave. That he wouldn't notice him. That he would ignore him like a glitch in the system.
To test, he slowly emerged from his hiding place. But he wasn't expecting what he saw.
The Executioner was crouched right in front of him, his head tilted to one side, as if he had been waiting for him. As if the silence were part of the game.
Vikram froze. His heart raced. Fear shot up his spine like an electric shock.
"It's very rude to scare someone... you know," Vikram said, his voice trembling, trying to break the silence that had settled in like a curse.
The Executioner didn't answer. He didn't move. But Vikram, from his position in the water, could hear his breathing. Deep. Heavy. As if the air he exhaled was charged with intention.
And there was something else. Vikram didn't want to look down. He didn't want to see the Executioner's crotch. What was there terrified him more than any weapon. More than any scar. He had seen it by accident, and he regretted it. His eyes were fixed on the pyramid. On that impossible geometry that seemed to stare without seeing.
The silence continued. Vikram laughed nervously. Not because it was funny. But because he hated that everything remained silent. He hated that the Executioner approached without speaking. Without announcing himself. Without even offering him the comfort of a verbal threat.
It was worse this way.
Because silence... always precedes the ritual.
And so they remained for a few seconds. The air between them was thick, as if the silence had weight. Vikram didn't move. He didn't want that Executioner to see him. He didn't want him to be chosen.
But someone finally spoke. And that surprised him.
It was the Executioner. His voice was deep, resonant, with a resonance that seemed to come from the depths of the earth.
Executioner - 2: You're Vikram... aren't you? -he asked, pointing a firm finger at the small boy in the pool, as if the gesture were part of a trial.
Vikram saw the finger pointing at him. Then he looked back at the big man's pyramidal head. He swallowed nervously. His mind started racing.
"Doesn't this bastard know I'm Vikram?... Maybe I can change the course of my ritual. Of course! That way I won't have to get fucked by... Damn it."
He smiled slightly. Nervous. As if a lie could save him.
Vikram: No, friend... I think you've got the wrong human, in an Underworld -he said, his voice trembling, trying to sound casual, as if fear weren't squeezing his chest.
The Executioner bowed his head. He approached. Vikram felt him closer and stepped back slightly. His smile faded. Discomfort enveloped him like a damp blanket.
Executioner - 2: Hmm... -the Executioner observed him silently. Then he spoke again, his voice like it dragged stones- Lying... is wrong.
Vikram froze. His body stopped responding. His heart raced. The wine no longer protected him. Only he remained, naked, vulnerable, facing something that didn't need to scream to instill terror.
"Shit... Did he realize it instantly? Or maybe... wasn't I so good at hiding my expressions? I think I've screwed up."
He lowered his gaze. Not out of shame. Out of resignation. Out of fear. Because of the memory of what he had felt before. The pain. The pleasure. The confusion. He didn't want to be broken again. He didn't want his body to be the stage for something he didn't want. But it was that... or die.
Vikram: I... I'm sorry... -he said, his voice low, as if the words were stones he couldn't bear.
The Executioner didn't answer. He only breathed. Gravely. Steadily. As if the ritual had already begun.
He remained silent for a few more seconds, as if savoring Vikram's confession. Then he slowly sat up, his pyramidal head rotating with a metallic creak that seemed unnatural.
Executioner - 2: You lied... but you can still choose, -he said in a grave voice, as if each word were part of an ancient oath.
Vikram looked at him, confused. Choose what?
The Executioner extended his hand. In it appeared three objects:
- A thin, red rope with ritual knots.
- A wooden spoon, carved with symbols.
- A black mask, featureless, without eyes.
Executioner - 2: One of these objects will define your ritual, -the Executioner said, without moving-. Choose. But don't ask what they do. The game is simple: choose without knowing. Your body will decide the rest.
Vikram swallowed. His heart pounded. The rope reminded him of submission. The spoon, punishment. The mask... anonymity. Or something worse?
"What kind of game is this? What if I choose wrong? What if they're all bad?" he thought, feeling the water around him grow colder.
The Executioner didn't pressure him. He just waited. As if time didn't affect him. As if the sunset were part of the ritual's internal clock.
Vikram raised his hand. He hesitated. He lowered his gaze. He looked at the objects again.
Vikram: What if I don't choose? he asked, his voice low.
The Executioner tilted his head.
Executioner - 2: Then I'll choose for you. And you won't like it.
Vikram gritted his teeth. The game was clear. There was no way out. Only a decision.
Vikram looked at the three objects. The red rope. The carved spoon. The black mask.
His mind raced. Not out of fear. Out of strategy. "If I choose two... maybe I can balance the ritual. Maybe I can soften it. Maybe I can get out of this without being broken again."
He raised his hand. He pointed to the rope. Then the mask.
Vikram: I choose these two, he said, his voice firm, as if he were negotiating with fate.
The Executioner didn't react immediately. He just lowered his gaze to the objects. Then he took them, one in each hand. The rope wound itself, as if it had a life of its own. The mask seemed to absorb the light.
Executioner - 2: -Chosen... surrender and denial,' the Executioner said, his voice grave. "Your body will be mine. Your face will be forgotten. The ritual will be twofold. And it will not stop until the sunset dies."
Vikram swallowed. The wine no longer protected him. The pool no longer embraced him. The air grew denser. More intimate. More cruel.
"Damn it... So what was it like?! So... I SURRENDERED WITHOUT KNOWING! That's why he didn't tell me anything and said not to ask... Maybe it wasn't a good idea... but I did it now. There's no going back."
Vikram closed his eyes. Not out of fear. Out of resignation. Because of that shattered hope he didn't yet know was shattered.
The Executioner held the rope and the mask, as if they were sacred relics. Vikram had already made his choice. But the ritual didn't begin. Not yet.
The silence stretched on. Until the Executioner spoke.
Executioner - 2: Before we begin... you must promise something.
Vikram opened his eyes and looked at him, confused.
Vikram: Promise what?
The Executioner approached. His voice was deep, as if each word weighed a ton.
Executioner - 2: Promise that you won't escape. That you won't close your mind. You won't pretend you're not here.
Vikram swallowed.
Vikram: What if I don't promise?
The Executioner tilted his head.
Executioner - 2: Then the ritual will be longer. Deeper. More cruel. Because the body that resists... breaks more slowly.
Vikram felt a chill. Not from the threat. From the truth it contained.
"Can I promise that? Can I stay present while they break me? Can I not run away from myself?"
The rope moved on its own. The mask seemed to breathe. The air smelled of incense and something else... something metallic.
Vikram closed his eyes again.
Vikram: I promise... -he said, his voice low, trembling, but firm.
The Executioner didn't answer. He simply placed the mask over Vikram's face.
And the ritual... began.
___________________________________
Sometimes the unexpected happens... And destiny rests solely in your hands. In your decision. And Vikram chose the path of neither running nor distancing himself. Which path would you have chosen, reader?
What did you think of Vikram's decision?
Do you think he will resist or accept the intimacy that awaits him?
>>>
Images of the Executioners are available on Wattpad, in the same story you're reading.
Find me on Wattpad as: @Karma_SS
To get a general idea of what they look like. Or, if you prefer, just use your imagination. But remember, I'll describe them later, and they won't be exactly as you picture them.