The Complex
The execution of duty …
Got an odd little tale for you today. Other than a brief appearance on an online story site that no longer exists, I believe this is previously unpublished. See what you think!
The Complex
The man named Miller met me at the railway station. I must confess that I felt keen excitement at the prospect of finally seeing the Complex, despite the gravity of the day’s proceedings. The job I would do recognised years of good and loyal service and, should I acquit myself satisfactorily, would be the first of many at this higher level. We walked out to the car together and Miller opened the boot so I could stow the case that held my equipment, then opened the passenger door for me. I took my seat and he shut the door, then took his place in the driving seat.
Once out of town, we drove through open countryside. It was quite beautiful. Eventually the road began to climb and to twist and turn in its ascent up the mountainside. As we travelled, I caught tantalising glimpses of the Complex through the trees until, finally, I could see the whole thing. Miller pulled over to the side of the road and we got out to take in the view.
‘Impressive, isn’t it?’ he said.
I was momentarily speechless. I had been told to expect something out of the ordinary, but this was ...
‘Breathtaking,’ I said. ‘Quite spectacular.’
‘Yeah, it all helps with getting them there, you know? We can tell ’em there’s some big function on or they’re getting an award and they just trot on up, good as gold. Beats the crap out of the hassle of a public arrest.’
‘Then you put the word out that they’re busy working on a project, or have retired from public life.’
He grinned. ‘Or say nothing and see if they’re missed.’
I nodded. ‘Clever.’ I hadn’t taken my eyes off the castle.
‘Come on. You’ll like it even better, close to.’
Miller was right. The Complex was stunning, the stonework, turrets, parapets, portcullis, all truly magnificent. Inside, the original entrance hall had been preserved. Stone flagged floors and walls hung with tapestries provided the setting for antique rugs and priceless furniture. Further in, the cells were granite with iron bars. Prisoners were kept apart. No news, no music, no books, no paper, no talking, not even at exercise hour. God had not been invited into this particular institution, as prayers and hymns were unnecessary risks. Words and music, you see. And hope. Most of the inmates here were godless, but there was always the chance a prisoner might believe.
I was given a short guided tour then shown into a room where I opened my case and took out the tools of my trade: sword, hood, and gauntlets. Once attired, I was escorted to the execution chamber. It contained the witnesses required by law, a block at which the criminals would kneel, and five pale-looking individuals, three male, two female, who were chained and well-guarded. There would be no escape, no last-minute reprieve or rescue.
The Complex housed the most dangerous people our world had to deal with, hence the high security and mandatory death sentence for the guilty. These were no ordinary criminals; drug dealers, robbers, rapists, murderers. These were free-thinkers. The group before me comprised a philosopher, a poet, an artist, a novelist and a singer-songwriter. A more motley bunch of subversives conspiring to overturn the status quo it is hard to imagine. One by one, they were made to kneel before me.
As Miller drove me back down the mountain, I took in once more those tantalising glimpses of the castle and smiled. I felt I had acquitted myself well today. I was quite sure I would be soon be invited back.
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Thanks for reading and see you next time.
Really enjoyed this. Based on Tory Britain the way things are going.