Lying before me is cross that has been used before. There is no special cross for their queen to be crucified upon. The crucifixion team removes the beam I carried up the hill and tells me to get my ass on the cross. The fantasy of being crucified is becoming my gritty reality. I stare at the bloodstained cross I will be nailed to and realize I am as rough and dirty as the wood I will hang from. During the march up the hill I have soiled my thighs front and rear. My hair is not coiffed. It clings and sticks to my sweating face. I stand naked before my subjects without even a rag for a loincloth. And real fear wells up inside me.
“Bitch, I told you to get on the cross” a guard snarls. I know what is saying but my body won’t move. The man in charge, the gruff man named Tree, tells his men he is not paying them to just look at me. Two guards grab me and drag me to the cross. I don’t fight them. I am limp in their grip.
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I watch in detached disbelief as the swiftly tie my arms and legs to the cross. I look over my bound body and realize there is no escape from the coming spikes.
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The stipe sticks to my backside. I realize the cross had been used as a latrine. Tree stands over me holding his mallet and three huge spikes. With a calm cold voice he says “You should appreciate I saved the cross and spikes I used to crucify Barbara Moore. I find it fitting the woman that condemned her will die on the same cross nailed to it with the same spikes, don’t you?”
I look at him and say “You cannot be serious!”
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“This is no place to joke. I trust you are ready” he says. He tosses spikes in the dirt near both my wrists. They look even bigger close up. The rusty square shanks bear the stains of blood- Barbara’s blood! Tree kneels by my feet and presses pointed tip off the third spike against the arch of my top foot. He hoists the hammer up and I stare at the sky as it hurls towards the head of the spike as I hiss “Oh, shit!”
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With the crash of the hammer the spike drives through both of Debbie’s feet and into the wood under them. She lets out a very un-regal squeal and soils herself yet again. It took only two more blows to pin her shattered feet to the stipe. Tree spikes her left wrist to the cross and moves to her right wrist. As he pounds the third spike in Debbie howls incoherently as pain wracks her body.
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Tree stands and pulls out his flask. He takes a drink as he looks down at Debbie. Her body heaves and twitches in pain as she struggles to catch her breath.
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Debbie seems unaware of anything but the pain from the spikes piercing her limbs. Tree is focused on his chore and orders Debbie and her cross raised. As it swings up Debbie whimpers “Please, don’t do this!”
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Tree’s men pay no attention and they quickly lift it. The cross slides into the socket thudding to a hard fast stop! Debbie’s chin bounces off her chest straining muscles in her neck.
She hangs silently for a few moments then the young queen looks over her crucified body. She whines “Look what you have done to me!”
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She needn’t have bothered to say that. The crowd thinks their former queen looks rather stunning hanging naked nailed to her cross.
Tree