Chapter two alternate (caroline)

Chapter two but told from Caroline's POV.

The air in the dungeon was damp and cold, each breath I took a reminder of my impending doom. The stone walls seemed to close in around me as I sat on the hard, unforgiving floor, my wrists bound in rough ropes that dug into my skin. Shadows danced in the flickering torchlight, twisting into grotesque shapes that mirrored my fears. I could hear the distant sounds of the crowd gathering outside, their excited murmurs growing louder, a cacophony of anticipation that made my stomach churn.

When the heavy iron door creaked open, I flinched, instinctively shrinking back against the wall. The guard’s grim face loomed over me, his eyes devoid of compassion. 

“It’s time,”

 he said, his voice a low growl. With a rough tug, he pulled me to my feet, and I stumbled forward, disoriented and weak. The chill of the stone floor was replaced by the cold grip of reality as I was led out of my cell.

The narrow corridor was dark, the air thick with the stench of mildew and despair. Each step echoed in the silence, a rhythmic reminder of my fate. As we ascended the winding staircase, I could hear the faint sounds of the crowd above�"laughter, jeers, and the clinking of tankards. They were eager for the spectacle of my death, and the thought sent a shiver down my spine.

Emerging into the light, I was momentarily blinded by the sun’s harsh rays. The courtyard stretched out before me, a stark contrast to the darkness I had just left. The cobblestones were warm beneath my feet, but I felt no comfort in their warmth. Instead, I was met with the sight of the gallows�"a looming structure that cast a long shadow over the assembled crowd.

As I was marched forward, I caught glimpses of familiar faces twisted in expressions of glee and horror. There was Mrs. Hargrove, her lips curling into a smile, and the local blacksmith, his eyes gleaming with excitement. My heart ached at the betrayal of those I once called friends. They had all come to witness my demise, their morbid curiosity outweighing any shred of compassion.

With each step, memories flooded my mind�"days spent in the meadows, laughter ringing through the air, and the warmth of Lucian's embrace. I longed for those moments, for the feeling of safety and love that now seemed so far away. My parents’ voices echoed in my ears, their insistence on honor and duty drowning out my own cries for freedom. They had condemned me for loving too deeply, for daring to defy their expectations.

As I reached the platform, the executioner stood waiting, his face obscured by a dark hood. The sight of him sent a wave of nausea crashing over me. I could feel the crowd’s eyes upon me, their anticipation palpable. The executioner beckoned me forward, and I stepped onto the platform, my heart pounding in my chest. The world around me faded, and all I could hear was the sound of my own breath, quick and shallow.

The cold metal of the guillotine loomed above me, a grim reminder of what was to come. I closed my eyes, trying to block out the noise, the chanting, the taunts. I thought of Lucian, my vampire lover, who had promised to save me, yet here I was, shackled by fate. In my mind, I conjured his face, his dark eyes filled with an intensity that had always drawn me in. I longed for his touch, for the warmth of his embrace, but it felt like a distant dream now.

The moment stretched, each heartbeat echoing like a countdown. I felt the cold metal against my neck, the weight of the world pressing down on me. As I braced for the inevitable, I couldn’t help but think of how my story would end, how my love would be left behind, a mere whisper in the night.

And then it happened. The blade fell, swift and merciless. Pain was a fleeting moment, a mere flash before darkness enveloped me. But even as my head rolled away, I felt a strange sense of peace. In those final moments, I realized that love, even in death, could transcend the boundaries of life.

My fingers twitch though everything remains black. I reach for where my head should be and feel nothing but flesh and bone, I feel around me and recognize the feel of the guillotine, the sturdy wood, and the nails holding the foundation together. I push myself off the ground, which I assume I did gracefully as I didn’t feel myself stumble. I walked around to where I thought my head rolled off to. 

I’ve seen plenty of beheadings to know roughly where the heads end up. I stop once I feel something bump the end of my foot, I bend over, my arms outstretched, slowly I bring my hands together until they firmly grasp the object. I bring the object to my chest, my fingers covered in blood explore it, recognising the shape of a nose…an eye, followed by another, then lips. 

I recognise the object as my head, I turn it to what I assume is away from me, before aligning the Head on the exposed flesh of my neck. As soon as the exposed flesh meets I feel it bonding together. Two seconds pass though it feels like an eternity, and now I can see… and hear, and smell. Taste is the last sense to come back as my tastebuds get hit with a warm metallic taste in such a large amount I find it dribbling down my lips. 

Once I regain my senses I look around and notice my father, Lartius, standing there his guards inching closer. I start by taking slow steps back before breaking into a full sprint towards the forbidden forest just past the wall surrounding the kingdom.