Lydia's Tales, chapter 2

A double disclaimer: English is not my first language (cut me some slack or, if you want, send revisions via PM). Also, my magic themed stories are usually quite violent, gory and graphic, and this one is no exception.

Lydia checked for the second time the letter she just received: there was no sender on the envelope, but if her suspicions were valid, she had to open it with the necessary formalities.
She moved to the lounge, put the envelope on the low table, served herself a glass of apricot brandy and sat down on the armchair. She took a sip from her glass and then she took the letter and opened it with a paper knife. Inside the envelope there was just a single sheet. She drank another sip and read:

Miss Lydia Monroe,

We're sorry to inform you that the trial that saw you as the defendant has come to an end. All the evidences has been examined, the judgement has been issued and without any room for error you have been found guilty.

As a result of it, the court has decided not to concede any clemency and that you will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law for the unnamed crime you’re accused of.

You’ve been sentenced to death.

There would be no further verdicts, no appeal, no postponements.

Please, come today at 6 pm to the place previously agreed for your capital execution.

We hope in your full cooperation.

Best regards.

Lydia read the letter for a second time, lingering on the most important words: “guilty”, “sentenced to death”, “capital execution”. She looked at the watch: she has to hurry; she has to find a suitable dress, and she didn’t want to arrive late.

It was ten minutes to six when Lydia opened the cottage door and entered. Inside a trail of tall candlesticks marked the way to the stairs leading to the basement. Their meaning were unmistakable and she followed them.
The trail of candles continued along the stairs and in the basement corridor, leading the girl to a door she haven’t seen open before. She turned the handle and entered.
The room was long and tall, enlightened only by flickering torches on the walls. On the other side of the room, with a piece of rope in his hand, Michael was waiting for her at the feet of a gallows: a few steps were leading to a raised wooden platform, with a rope ending in a noose slowly swinging from the crossbeam.
Lydia walked slowly but not hesitantly toward him, undoing one at a time her silk blouse's buttons: he was watching her, and she wanted to look her best for her hanging.
Once she was next to him, she turned on herself and crossed her hands behind her back. He firmly tied the rope around her wrists and said: «Welcome, miss Monroe. I knew we can count on your presence.»
«How could I miss my own execution?»
«Surely you couldn’t. Now please, miss Monroe, precede me.»
She climbed the steps that leaded to the platform and stopped for a moment to watch the noose swaying hypnotically, ready for her. Then, without further instruction, she stepped on the platform right under the noose.
Michael walked in front of her and opened up her blouse, uncovering her fine breasts. Then he took the noose and pass it over the girl’s head, tightening it around her slender neck. She tamely let him do: the rope was thin and smooth, but this wouldn’t have made it less lethal.
«Miss Lydia Monroe», he said, «as per the communication you received, you’ve been sentenced to death. The capital penalty will be applied hanging you by the neck, until any sign of life will cease. Any question?»
«No, sir, no questions.»
«Very well. Do you have a last plea for mercy? Do you want to do a last appeal to the court clemency?»
«No, sir, I accept my fate», she answered, «I deserve to die.»
«Do you have a last wish, or do you want to utter your last words?»
«Only one wish, sir. Before I die, I want a last kiss from my judge and executioner.»
Just slightly surprised, Michael moved a bit closer to Lydia; then he caressed her check and her chin, making her lift her head, and put his mouth on hers.
Lydia returned the kiss, letting it grow in passion, feeling at the same time the closeness and warmness of his body and the noose around her neck.
Then he took a step back and looked at her. The moment was nigh and a slight fear began to run through Lydia’s body as she looked back at him with a meek smile on her face, saying just: «I’m ready, sir. Please, hang me.»
A wave of fear mixed with pain ran through her body as Lydia realized she cannot breathe anymore: it was too late to turn back. She tried to free herself, but the rope around her wrists was tied too tightly. Her lungs craved for the air she was missing.
Michael took another step back, still looking at his girl – hanging from the noose, writhing in agony – and waiting to watch her die.
From her neck, the almost unbearable pain crossed her body. Shaken by spasms and involuntary convulsions, Lydia was every moment weaker, and around her everything was becoming darker, but she was still suffering, there was no relief: how long was her execution lasting?
She turned her eyes to her executioner: he was standing in front of her, his arms crossed, looking at her. And while his figure blurred, with a last effort she smiled to him.
Then a last violent convulsion shook her body, and a last terrible wave of pain crossed her. Darkness felt on her eyes, and in her chest her heart gave a last desperate beat.
She died.
Her execution was complete.

Michael looked at Lydia’s lifeless body slowly swinging from the noose that killed her. He waited five minutes more, almost hypnotized.
Then he moved next to her, pulling a knife from his pocket.
Carefully holding her, he cut the rope above the knot and gently laid her body on the wooden platform.
He looked at her for a moment more: she was so beautiful, even in death. Then he knelt on her and freed her from the noose that was still tight around her neck.
The rope dark mark was clearly visible. Michael put his hands around the girl’s neck and closed his eyes, concentrating, looking for something inside her, something small but still real. He found it, but it wasn’t enough.
He smiled and sat on the wooden surface, taking the girl’s body in his lap. With just a moment of embarrassment, he put his hand under her blouse, finding her breast, caressing it. Then he leaned on her and put his mouth on hers, as to kiss her.

There was only darkness, cold and silence. And nothing else at all. But suddenly Lydia become aware of something, around her or inside her. And there was something else, some else: a touch, or maybe a kiss…
And she returned that kiss, passionately, as if that kiss was her life. The pain she felt was disappearing, and in her chest her heart began to beat again. Without breaking the kiss, she breathed the air she missed so much, feeling a wave of euphoria running through her body.
Lydia become aware of herself, and everything around her: Michael who was supporting her body, his hand on her breast. She blushed a bit, but at the same time his fingers found her nipple, wiping away her embarrassment: she kissed him with even more passion.
Her capital execution couldn’t have gone any better.