What started as jogging quickly turned into sprinting. I tore across the courtyard, kicking up turf in my wake. Planting my boot, I leapt onto the stage, ready to knock this guy’s block off.

  I yanked my fist back, aimed high, and unleashed four knuckles.

  What I hadn’t noticed was the damn boss winding up for a counterattack.

  He caught me across the chest with a backhand, swatting me like a gnat. I flew into a nearby wall. Like an errant cruise missile, I landed headfirst.

  [Your Intellect has dropped to level 35.]

  My brain absorbed the brunt of the impact.

  “Holy frank,” I groaned. “That guy’s strong.” I was pretty sure the big bastard hit me harder than the truck had.

  Rolling onto my back to sit up, I got a glimpse of the jackass behind the voice that’d been condemning people to death.

  I craned my neck to look up at the balcony directly above Moaning Lisa’s cell. The bastard sat enthroned behind a podium with one hell of a thick-ass leather-bound book cracked open in front of him like scripture. Only his upper half was visible, but that was plenty.

  He wore black robes that draped over his narrow shoulders. Another ridiculous wig of curls sat on his head, this one powdered white. In one hand, he clutched a gavel, oversized and polished.

  His face was long and solemn. When he spoke, his voice rolled through the courtyard, echoing off the stone and leaving no doubt on how much he got off handing out “judgments.”

  “Prisoner 34, you have been convicted of the following crimes,” he said.

  “Hey!” I shouted. But the asshat ignored me and kept on reading from his stupid book, so I did what any normal person would: I got up, grabbed a rock, and chucked it at his pompous ass while yelling even louder, “Hey!”

  That got his attention. He flinched and ducked, interrupting his little tirade.

  His self-righteousness turned into fury as he gripped the book to peer over it.

  He jabbed a finger at me and said, “Silence that man!”

  I heard heavy footsteps on the stage coming toward me. The big bastard was after me, and I’d only brought two fists to a head-chopping fight, so I started running. But just like with Moaning Lisa, I didn’t have anywhere to run to.

  A heavy whoosh came at me from behind, but I ducked when I should’ve dodged. The axe head clocked me in the back of my damn skull.

  [Your Intellect has dropped to level 34.]

  I stumbled instead of tumbled, staying on my feet. Thank God I’d taken Critical Thinking. That might have been the blow to send me to Lair timeout for the rest of the Tutorial.

  JudgeJerry started with the ridiculous crimes again.

  “Infiltrating a brewery. Embezzling beer with intent to imbibe…”

  I heard another whoosh and dove into a roll as the axe head cruised over me. I came up running, my thoughts as fast as my feet.

  The hint was “the ties that bind.” I careened off my last lap around the courtyard and ran up to the next redheaded prisoner in line. Shackles locked both his wrists and ankles. I figured maybe breaking the chains would work, but I only had a second to try.

  I yanked. He screamed. His wrist broke before the chains.

  “Shit, sorry,” I muttered as another whoosh hissed behind me. I dove aside.

  A sharp thunk—wet and final—landed where I’d been, followed by the thud of a body dropping.

  [A prisoner has died. Only 4 remain.]

  JudgeJerry stopped reading his list of convictions. He peeked over his book at The Executioner and me and let out an annoyed sigh, like we’d inconvenienced him.

  Then he rolled his eyes, flipped to another page, and started reading again.

  “Prisoner 66, you have been convicted of the following crimes.”

  “Frank me,” I cursed.

  The Executioner veered off toward the stage, flew up the stairs, and planted the axe into the bloody block. Then he came after me with nothing but his bare hands.

  I grinned. “Finally, my kind of fight.”

  I let him close and brought my hands up to guard my head. He had me in reach, weight, and raw strength. But I learned long ago that you can’t beat a guy who refuses to stay down. Besides, if the boss was busy pummeling me, he wouldn’t be chopping off any heads.

  I brought my arm up to soak the first hit. Crack. That was the sound of my fist smacking me in my own cheek.

  [Your Intellect has dropped to level 33.]

  [Your Blocking Skill has increased to level 1.]

  The big bastard hit me so damn hard, I hit myself. At least I got a skill-up out of it.

  My foot slid back as far as it would go as I backed off. Biding my time, I waited for an opening to grapple. I didn’t have to wait long.

  He closed in on me in one step and swung his meaty fist with a right hook. But he aimed behind me, expecting me to backpedal. His mistake.

  I dove in and latched onto his neck. My open mouth came at him for a bite, but he intercepted with an open palm. I still bit but got a mouthful of hand instead of throat.

  With my teeth dug deep into the outer edge of his palm, he straightened his arm, charging the wall behind us.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  [Your Intellect has dropped to level 32.]

  My head bounced off the wall as I tried to spit him out, but he did it again.

  [Your Intellect has dropped to level 31.]

  Abandoning the grapple, I pried at the fingers on my face. But it was no use as he continued to smash my head into the wall faster and faster.

  [Your Intellect has dropped to level 30.]

  [Your Intellect has dropped to—

  [Your Intellect has—

  [Your—

  [Your—

  [Your—

  “Holy frank!” I yelled. “Get off me!”

  But The Executioner seemed more upset that my puny head wouldn’t break than I was at the loss of Intellect. He pulled me back and slammed me with all his might, cracking the concrete wall with my thick-ass head.

  [Your Intellect has dropped to level 24.]

  “Off with his head!” JudgeJerry said from his lofty seat.

  Immediately, the boss dropped me. He turned and marched toward the prisoners.

  I landed on my ass, too dizzy to stand, holding my head to stop it from spinning. It didn’t work.

  “Shit,” I said, falling over from vertigo.

  I shook my head clear, wondering if killing JudgeJerry would stop the execution. The boss seemed to act only on his command. Maybe that was “the ties that bind”?

  I scanned the courtyard for boxes or crates to stack a makeshift stairway to reach but found nothing.

  A wet crunch signaled another death.

  [A prisoner has died. Only 3 remain.]

  “Stop doing that!” I hollered.

  I got another idea. He couldn’t chop heads off without that stupid axe, right? My eyes narrowed on the two-handed weapon that stood nearly as tall as me. I bet I could break it.

  “Only one way to find out.” I rose to my feet but had to act fast. He’d planted the axe in the block to drag the prisoner over to the growing pile of headless corpses.

  I bolted toward the stage, leapt, and landed without losing an ounce of speed. I skidded to a stop and gripped his dreaded tool with both hands and yanked. Nothing.

  “Jesus frank,” I cursed, trying it again.

  My damn back nearly popped from the self-damage as it forced me to relent.

  JudgeJerry flipped some pages and started again.

  “Prisoner 115…”

  I met the big bastard’s gaze. He flashed a half-grin on his way back.

  “The hell is this thing? Mjolnir?!”

  I abandoned the plan and backed off before he could get his hands on me and use my head as a wrecking ball again.

  For half a second, I wondered if killing the prisoners myself would work, but that’d just be an execution of another sort. Besides, I was quickly running out of prisoners.

  Running out of good ideas, I tried a really dumb one.

  I spun on my heel to face JudgeJerry, flung a finger up at him, and declared, “Objection!”

  The courtyard went silent. He stood up to regard me.

  “Objection?”

  I hadn’t dropped my pointing finger. “Honestly, it was that or parley.”

  “This isn’t a trial, you twit. It’s an execution.” His face scrunched up like a petulant child. “Oh, you’ve already gone and ruined it.” He pointed his gavel of overcompensation at the next redhead in line and said, “Off with his head!”

  “Frank, frank, frank,” I kept cursing. It usually helped me focus. I watched the next prisoner get dragged up the stairs, tossed onto the block, strapped down, and beheaded.

  [A prisoner has died. Only 2 remain.]

  “Can’t overpower the big bastard, can’t reach JudgeJerry, can’t free the prisoners…”

  I glanced up, searching for ropes, chains, or anything I might cut for the riddle. Again, I found nothing.

  At least JudgeJerry had returned to airing their grievances again. I’d been worried he’d summarily execute the rest of them.

  “Prisoner 42…”

  If it came to it, I’d be willing to test my theory that stealing the kill might work. That’s when I noticed the prisoner count was off. There was only one guy left. Upon closer inspection, behind him was another glowing wisp in a one-by-one square cell.

  The last prisoner was my Freelancer! If I didn’t figure this out, I wouldn’t have another objective to beat the Instance, and I’d have to do it all over again.

  “Frank that,” I said, marching my ass over to the last true prisoner.

  I was glad when The Executioner stayed onstage as JudgeJerry continued listing off all the ridiculous, dirty deeds done dirt cheap.

  Prisoner 42 winced as I placed a hand on his shoulder to grab him.

  “Nothing personal,” I said, readying myself to rip out his throat.

  A nagging thought bubbled up and stopped me. The whole redheaded thing bothered me, and this might be the last guy I could ask about it.

  I pulled off his blindfold first, then loosened his gag. Both were gross. One was wet with tears; the other with snot. But before I could ask my damn question, he started yelling.

  “Maximus!” he hollered, his voice hoarse from screaming while gagged. “Maximus!” he cried again. His tears cut through the grime on his face, leaving clean streaks.

  This seemed to upset JudgeJerry, which tickled me franking pink.

  “Silence the prisoner!” he demanded.

  He could go frank himself if he thought I answered to him. Even better, the damn boss hadn’t even moved.

  “Maximus! It’s me!” Prisoner 42 yelled.

  “Gaius?” The Executioner asked. That was the first word he’d said the entire fight.

  “Yes!” Gaius said. He dropped to his knees, sobbing.

  The boss lowered his weapon and asked, “What—what are you doing here?”

  “We…” Gaius sniffled. “We were all here.”

  That’s when I noticed that each of the prisoners had been big guys like me, only they were all redheads.

  The boss, Maximus, took a step toward us. “Who? Who was here, cousin?” His eyes darted toward the pile of blind and silenced heads.

  Gaius’s whimpering was almost too faint to make out. “Our family…”

  “The ties that bind,” I whispered. They were all related.

  “Who?!” Maximus demanded as he took another step forward.

  Gaius’s eyes rose to meet JudgeJerry as he gritted his teeth and said them out loud. Each name landed another blow to Maximus.

  “My brothers: Decimus, Quintus, and Cassius. Our cousins: Julius, Tiberius. Your father, Meridus. Your brother, Commodus. And your son… Lucius.”

  The axe dropped, clattering loudly onto the stage floor. Maximus wouldn’t look away from the pile of unnamed prisoners.

  “My son…” His voice joined his trembling hands. “My son is dead?”

  “They’re all dead!” Gaius wailed. “You’ve killed us all.” His lips quivered as he wept.

  JudgeJerry got up in a huff. “You had one job, you buffoon. Now, off with his head!” He pointed the oversized gavel at Gaius.

  “No…” Maximus said.

  Instead of following the order, he walked over to the block in a daze. He dropped to his knees with a defeated thud. With his head turned toward the bodies, he placed it on the block and waited.

  My gaze drifted from Gaius to JudgeJerry, eventually settling on Maximus.

  JudgeJerry let out another disgruntled sigh before closing his stupid book.

  “Fine! Have it your way.” He half-heartedly pointed at Maximus and said, “Prisoner 201, you have been convicted of the following crimes: patricide, fratricide, multiple counts of parricide, and filicide. For these crimes, you are sentenced to death.”

  Maximus’s crimes weren’t as many as all the others, but they were enough to condemn him.

  JudgeJerry gathered his dumb book, clutching it to his chest as he turned to leave. He paused as if remembering a passing thought.

  “Off with his head, or whatever…” he said before disappearing through the balcony doors.

  The axe on the floor now shimmered. Loath to follow that asshole’s orders, I buried my pride and went over to see if I could pick up the six-foot weapon.

  I gripped it and hefted with all my might, nearly tossing the damn thing into the air. It wasn’t too heavy for me anymore.

  I didn’t savor the kill. This boss fight had been franked-up enough. I brought the axe down hard. It cleaved his head easily, biting deep into the headsman’s block where it would stay. I’d need way more strength to lift that thing again.

  [You’ve earned: 400 XP. XP boosted by first-time boss kill.]

  [The Executioner’s Head - Quest complete.]

  [You’ve gained: 1 Common chest.]

  The System didn’t even let his head hit the floor to join his son’s.

  [Kill 30 Humans - Quest complete.]

  [You’ve gained: 1 Common chest.]

  The System messages kept on scrolling.

  [Instance update: Stop the execution, complete.]

  [Instance progress: 100%]

  [You’ve beaten the Isle of Lost Hope, level 1 Instance.]

  [You’ve gained: 1,000 gold and 1 Uncommon chest. Total gold: 2,000.]

  I’d rescue the Freelancer in a minute; it wasn’t going anywhere.

  I went over and pushed aside the soiled apron to get to The Executioner’s pants pocket. The notification flashed, and I grinned.

  “Now that’s more like it…”