The Villainous Children Retire

The long-awaited war with the demons came to an end. They had left the little kingdom almost completely in shambles. The people were all gathered in one place, but it wasn't to discuss the rebuilding process or even to start it; instead, they were there to witness the end of the final demons running rampant among them. Cheers and applause completely drowned out any other sound around them. "Kill the demons!" they chanted. "Let us finally know peace! Down with the demon children!" Standing on a wooden platform, in front of two large guillotines, being detained by the strongest people around, stood the ones, who were being called demons. However, they didn't look much like demons, not at all, but young children, or at least children who had just recently become young adults. Capital punishment that couldn't be enacted until they reached adulthood was no longer a problem. They had once been renowned for their vast abilities. A strong amplitude of magic and the skills to destroy demons when no one else could brought them great fame and fortune. The only reason their fate had turned so sour in the first place was because of how they chose to use their great gifts. If they hadn't tormented the people in their homeland and if they hadn't abused their gifts. If they had even a little bit of a conscience, then they wouldn't be standing at the threshold of death now. They gazed at the crowd with glassy eyes. The only ones they could see who were worried about them were their parents, who were about to become childless. The cheers grew louder as they forced their heads down onto the mounts. "Alright! Alright!" shouted the voice of a man who was standing beside the guillotines. He looked partly messy with his crinkled-up shirt and pants. His hair looked unkept, and his beard was nothing but short speckled hairs on his face. He grinned an almost unsettling grin when he looked down at the criminals. "I know everyone is excited. Trust me, I know better than anyone how you all feel." This time, his grin was unsettling. "Believe me, I'm well aware of all the havoc our great heroes here have wrought." He lifted his left hand up for the crowd to see. They all gave a collective gasp as they saw a hand that didn't quite have all its fingers. On his middle finger from his proximal phalanx, all the way up was gone. "So, this was all your doing." Irene Belmonte turned her head on the mount to look at the man. With a twisted grin, she said, "I should've known you were behind this, Alden!" Loud footsteps came up on the platform behind them, and an authoritative voice gained everyone's attention. "On the contrary, this is no one person's doing; we're all in agreement on what needs to be done." "What needs to be done?" A chuckle left Irene's lips. "And that is to kill us?" "Are you sure you want to do that?" She couldn't turn to see him, but she could hear her brother's voice well. "What will you do if the demons return?" "Oh, don't worry about that, if that's what's concerning you," replied the man. He moved in front of the twins to let them see him clearly. He was dressed properly, more so than the other man. He took out a small book from somewhere hidden in his dark robe and began flipping through its pages. "You two made sure of that." "This is how you repay us for our efforts?" Ezra asked. "By killing us?" Something about the man in front of them struck a little bit of fear inside them. "I assure you, the two of you are getting nothing short of what you deserve." Ezra and Irene slowly turned their heads on the mounts to look at each other. "How many people have fallen victim to your schemes? The scars, the pain, the agony. Are you going to say that you don't deserve the punishment you're receiving?" Neither could offer any kind of excuse and so, the proper man carried on. "If you want to escape your deaths, maybe you can ask the audience here if they'll spare you." Ezra and Irene looked out at their gawkers, who all at once had become quiet and uncertain of what to make of themselves. "Won't the people step up here and ask for the exorcists to be spared?" He quickly added, "Besides the parents, who are biased in this case." Silence. Everyone looked tense. "Nobody?" He extended his hand out. "Then how about the one who's suffered the most at the hands of our heroes? Calix Eastwood, won't you speak up for the exorcists?" Everyone began looking around for the boy named Calix, but no one could find him. Even the twins couldn't see him in the crowd, but now, they didn't think it would make much of a difference even if they could see him. He would be the last person to ever stand up for them after everything they had done to him. A sinister laugh left the man's mouth. "Why, he isn't even here! How marvelous, what a wonderful chain of events!" His laughter became contagious as the crowd copied him. "You really reap what you sow, don't you?" He looked at the other men standing on the platform and gave them a quick nod. Following command, they secured the twins and got ready to carry out their sentences. "Any last words?" The twins glared up at the man who had dared to ask them that. Knowing nothing would change and they no longer needed to favor the people anymore, they spoke their true feelings. "Curse you all!" screamed Irene. "Once our use ran out, this is how you repay us? You should be worshiping the ground we stand on! How dare you treat us as nothing but lowly criminals now that we served our purpose?" "Were we so bad?" shouted Ezra. "Is it right to kill children who were only having some fun? Is death the only punishment you ignorant people could think of?" Their words had done nothing more than fuel the hatred in the people's hearts. "Fun?" repeated the man. "We all have observed well just how you two have 'fun'. Tell me, was it fun to cut off Mister Alden's finger?" Mister Alden seemed uncomfortable as he moved back. "Was it fun to burn down houses just to make a point? Was it fun to beat and berate people during your nightly parties? Was it fun to torment the young Calix Eastwood until he was nothing more than a shell of himself? Was any of that fun?" "Indeed," sneered Irene, "the weakest ones are you people. You can't handle anything." "Indeed," mocked the man. "The ones who should be destroyed the most are you wicked and vile children." He raised his hand and nodded, "Do it." The only cries of pain for their deaths were their parents, who couldn't do anything for their children. Their deaths came quickly, but the sounds of the people screaming in merriment lasted for a long time.