He twists his neck towards the noise. Outside the glass, a crowd forms. The sky is lit by flames; flames that lick the air with every wisp.
They bay for him, chanting his name incessantly. His eyes dilate as he stares down - he sees anger, but they see fear.
The stone around him comes into view, the ruthless torches casting shadows that fill his prison.
He cries out to God,
'How did it come to this?!'
But even he can hear the falsehood in his voice, an empty echo hoping to catch an updraft.
The chains around him start to get heavy now, the coldness pressing into his skin. Their anger turns into anticipation as the commotion soars. He shuts his eyes, hoping to shut the world out of his head. Thoughts are running amok as the reaper ambles towards his demise. With each step, a second trickles by.
'How did it come to this?'
He pleads again but there is no answer, only the swish of the blade as it severs body, soul, and life, as the symphony outside reaches its gleeful climax.



