The Corrupt Hand of Law

[thethiefofvictory 339]

The black doors of the court coldly stare at me, the intricate, colorful patterns inscribed on them taunting me with cries of justice. Above the doors, a phrase is written, and then a sentence. That is all I see, and even that from memory.

 

Behind me, I can hear people talk. Gossip, maybe. No, a commotion. I can hear curses, and soldiers escorting a prisoner through the angry mob, trying to save him or her from a death by the stones of the people watching, rather than death by the words of the judge and sword of the executioner. Another victim. Probably innocent. 

 

Through the walls, I can see a grey stone firmly set in the soil, reminding that we are all destined to follow its fate. Words, written on the stone in black, tell the name of the grave. Below them, “executed for murder.”

 

They care about evidence. They do not care that perhaps, the evidence is falsified. That the accused is being framed. They just utter their destiny, and the convicts’ heads roll.

 

My brother was innocent. Innocent of all the charges upon him. They did not care to think past what they were shown.

 

Evidence can be lies. Words can be lies. But not people. Did they care to think about the accused’s nature, personality, life?

 

I doubt it.

 

I remember the executioner as his sword cut my brother’s head, two days ago. I was there, as a lawyer. Newly graduated, my job only a day older than the accusation upon him.

 

Now, I will return to work for his killers. I should call them the enforcers of justice, but not this time. I could say they made a fatal mistake, and I could forgive.

 

Not this time.

 

They admitted to me. They fabricated everything. They are not the enforcers of justice; in truth, they are the ones whose heads should roll at the hands of law and justice.

 

But they won’t.

 

They want me to work for them. Not the court, not law, but them. Will I?

 

I have a life to avenge. No, many lives. Who knows how many others have fallen to them. But of course, there is one thing I have no idea about.

 

Who are they? What is the truth?

 

When the law is lawless, when justice is unjust, what is the meaning of truth?

 

The doors open for the prisoner, and for the new lawyer. 

 

Thanks for reading! This is part of a series, complete details in this post.

Edited August 16, 2018 by thethiefofvictory

[LOLKILLERTOTHEDEATH 1,921]

Approved!

 

Well done! You have used imagery brilliantly. I, suffice to say, scrutinized it under a microscope but didn't notice anything that needed fixing.

[Chronicle 164]

Very atmospheric, I quite enjoyed it actually. Towards the end, "lawless" doesn't sit right with me. Also, it would have been really good if you went for something more graphic, regardless it was a good piece. Good work!

[P.4.R.K.O.U.R 329]

You didn't heed my advice and used lawless... :ph34r:

Anyways, good job.