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First Time

I still remember the first time I executed a fellow dragon. It's not something that is easy to forget. And it is not something everyone can do. A little over 8 years ago, I was serving in the military, fighting back the GDA that had encroached our territory. Things were getting quiet, the war was growing cold. Neither side could win a major battle, and neither side was gaining ground. The MDA was reaching its peak strength in numbers, mostly due to the conscription. The pay to us front-line soldiers was shrinking. So I decided to try and earn a little extra by becoming the local executioner for my little home town. I know, first porn star, then soldier, then paid killer as side-job. What kind of carrier path was that to take? Honestly, it was also to honor my family's legacy. My father is an executioner in Mianyang. His father was an executioner, too. And I was used to a little more luxury from the fame and income that my old job earned. I also missed the fame. Executioners are well respected and cheered like pop stars. I needed to be in the spotlight again. Anyway, once my unit rotated back from the front lines for a rest period I decided to apply at Sichuan District's Execution Facility, conveniently located near a military base. I missed the big city, a place where people used to know me from my work. A place where I could get drinks in almost any bar for free, based on my fame. This time around all I got was a free bunk in a local military base, right next to where I'd be trained. There were about 20 of us, all training to become state qualified executioners. I could tell there were a few people just doing it for the money, a few non-soldiers who already smelled nervous as they stood and waited, and a few meat heads that were clearly here for thrills. I could tell these guys were the type who would shoot to injure rather than kill. Of course, you do that too much on the front lines and you'll end up dead from a wounded enemy that can still pull a trigger. The introduction was given in an empty field near the holding cells of the prisoners. A large gallows holding 10 nooses and bare soil, packed hard so weeds couldn't grow easily, was all that made up the field. From on top of the gallows, a gold-badge executioner spoke to the 20 of us. "You are here to see if you have what it takes to serve your country and leader by removing convicted criminals from our country prisons and cities. You will be the hand that takes their life. You will be the giver of death. And you will be held to the highest of standards. This isn't a cushy job, gentlemen. You mess up, you go home. You screw up badly and you might just end up being hanged by your replacement." At this point, a large audience of fresh army recruits had filed onto the field behind us and stood silently facing the gallows. From the prison-side, 8 dragons wearing distinct prison garb and the smiling execution mask were being force-marched forward by 8 dragons wearing the green executioner armband with a skull on it. It was the class of the previous week. I could tell they hadn't been outside wearing the bands yet, they were too clean and bright. Heck, I'd say their jackets ended up stained from it. "To benefit your education, we have a demonstration", the gold-badge said. "This will also be their final exam." Each prisoner was brought behind the stage, their pants opened facing away from us, and given a last chance at dignity. The odor of their final urination drifted to us. I could pick up the faint arousal coming from one of the dragons in front of me, but wasn't sure which one shared that taste with me. One of the trainees, one of the smallest in the group, was struggling to keep his prisoner under control. Despite the mask blinding him and the cuffs keeping his hands behind his back, the prisoner was still putting up a good fight. The gold-badge looked on from atop the gallows, the smell of his annoyance beginning to waft while his face began to scowl, his ears tilting. After a minute or so, the prisoners were led up the stairs and coaxed onto one of the low barrels waiting under each noose. The knots were secured behind their necks, except for the struggler. Before the noose was in place, the trainee was violently head-butted and the prisoner broke free. Of course, he didn't get far. The gold-badge walked to the edge of the gallows, towards the audience, since that's the way the prisoner had decided to run. He ran straight off the edge and fell, landing face-first onto the hard ground with nothing to break his fall. The rubber mask deformed under the weight of his body and the scent of blood wafted towards us. I'm sure his snout fractured at least. Wouldn't surprise me if his entire jaw shattered. A single gunshot rang out, coming from the gold-badge. His shot was pretty good, catching the prone prisoner through his left lung. Probably though his heart. He didn't get up. He didn't even struggle that long. One gasping exhale was all he managed. The trainee trembled, the scent of his fear becoming stronger than the 7 dragons who stood waiting to die. He had covered his head with his arms at the sound of the gunshot, frozen in place. The gold-badge walked the short distance to him, stood directly in front of him and said "Announcement!" Each trainee moved to the front of the stage and announced the name and crime of their victim, the standard speech to the audience. Even the one WITHOUT a victim still gave the speech, as if they had rehearsed it until it was automatic, but was struggling to keep his voice even. "Stand ready!", the gold-badge commanded. Then the trainees moved behind their charge and placed a foot on the barrels. The gold-badge raised his arm straight up, waited a few seconds, then quickly brought it down. 8 barrels slid away in near unison. 7 dragons dropped until the noose bit into their neck and started kicking at the air. Two were still. Standing there, within the silent crowd, I could hear the chocking gasps from those still struggling. Within a few minutes they had stilled. A second gold-badge arrived to take us inside the training campus. Once inside, I could smell the clear arousal from some of the larger members of our group. And the urine from one trainee that was still looking pale and dazed. It wasn't new for me to see an execution, of course. I had witnessed many executions in Taibai, like the majority of the people there did, even if they didn't knew the victim - just out of curiosity.

As I watched very vigilantly, I also noticed some small differences between there and Taibai. For example, the dragons in the big cities use metal handcuffs for the prisoners, while in Taibai a simple rope is used to tie the arms behind the back. In the small villages, things are often more simple and less expensive.

Training was pretty simple, but the early classes were very boring. We were told about the purpose and long tradition of the short drop hanging, as well as a little propaganda about how our Beloved Leader had perfected the method. They also had pictures of the western style "trapdoor" gallows - such a poor design. Then came paperwork, giving out contact details and locations, learning how to read and verify court orders, what each detail in the "final punishment" means - that's the part explaining if the condemned should be allowed the dignity of urinating before hanging and whether their crime earns them the sign of a traitor, or some other sign. We were drilled on the whole procedure of an execution, from applying the mask until removing the corpses and transporting them to the local undertaker after 3 days. Then we finally moved on to more practical information. First they went over how to measure and tie a noose, then how to place it - right in the middle of the neck, so the victim would not die instantly. Anyone condemned deserved to put on a good show for the crowds. We practiced on each other, working in pairs. Next was how to apply and strap the mask, and how to check it - tight under the jaw and firmly behind the head. Then there was a long lecture on proper etiquette and how to enforce it. What to do if a crowd spoke, or worse - booed, during an execution. How to react to a crying relative of a victim, or anyone else that is forbidden to be in the audience. And how to signal a crowd to cheer when the time was right, just before the victim died. That ended the first day. Day two was more simple checks - checking a rope, checking a knot, checking the floor, barrels and support beams of a gallows. It seemed so basic, so simple. Anyone who maintained their own house or farm would know this stuff already. It was about half-way through this dull lecture that I realized there were less people in the room with me. We were down to only 16. The four that were absent were some of the smaller guys. One was my partner who had struggled to tie a noose. How can you struggle with a simple knot?! Eventually, we did go outside to the gallows. By this time, the sun was low, but it was still warm. The scent of blood and urine, terror and death, still clung to the field. We paired up again and took turns resisting as we were lead up to the gallows and onto the low barrels used to create a short drop. I was once again paired with a small guy, who didn't even try to stop me. I made it pretty difficult for him, but stopped short of breaking his grip on me entirely. I decided to give him some tips on better ways to hold someone to make them walk where you want. After a few rounds each of "up the stairs, onto the barrel", we practiced the declaration of crimes speech. Simple enough, but we were expected to follow the formal tones and pace. We were told the routine for a proper execution: A silent crowd, letting the condemned urinate, marching the condemned up, placing the noose, speech to the audience, kicking the barrel away and then waiting and checking they were dead. They went over this again, and again. And then told us that tomorrow was our final exam. Then they left. I was surprised. So were some of the others. The ones who clearly enjoyed this too much - the ones who had pulled their nooses tight to make sure they worked, the ones I could smell arousal off even over the scent of sweat and exertion coming from us all - began to cheer and clap their hands.

I found it hard to sleep that night, worrying about what would happen the next day.

The next morning at sunrise, we were told to get up, get dressed as executioners, and proceed to the prison cells. Once we arrived, we found twenty inmates waiting for us, each bound to a chair by their ankles and with their hands cuffed behind them. Some stared at us, as if daring us to come closer. Some wept, like children. A few just stared at nothing, as they knew their fate was sealed. Indeed, the smell of dread and fear were pungent in the small holding area. I wondered what would happen to those that didn't have a trainee executioner, but didn't have time to really ask. One-by-one, the gold-badge leading us, the highest ranking executioner in the city it turned out, called our name and a prisoner's name. My name was first. My prisoner was big. He must have spent all his time working out in his cell, he was nearly twice my size and all muscle! I was handed a mask that looked barely big enough to fit him, as well as his execution order. I quickly read and verified the papers and kept the name and the crimes in my mind. Then placed them in pocket and approached the prisoner, holding the mask in both hands so my arms didn't shake. I'm not ashamed to say I was nervous. If I messed this up, I'd be back on the front lines with a unit that knew I didn't have what it takes to be an executioner. The prisoner leered at me, snorted, and was just about to say something disgusting when he was surprised by my knee connecting with his crotch. Just before he howled in pain, I forced the mask down onto his face and quickly secured the mouth strap. Moving quietly behind him, I began to secure the rear strap when I noticed it was frayed badly. I looked to the gold-badge, about to ask for a replacement, when he called a prison guard to help me. I was about to protest that I didn't need help, I just needed a strap, when I noticed the guard was holding one behind the prisoner's head. I guess this was part of the test, and they didn't want to remind others to check the masks. I discretely swapped the cord and secured the mask. Once my prisoner was blindfolded, the guard freed his feet from the chair and I was able to force him to stand. I was told to move to just outside the door and wait. It took about 30 minutes for everyone else to finish preparing their victim. Three trainees stayed inside, 2 of the violent types and one that I knew was too much a coward for this. My guess is they got too aggressive or didn't bother to check the mask. With only 13 left, we marched our prisoners to the gallows. It was about this time that I realized how strange the job I was trying to get was.

Don't get me wrong, I'm a soldier. I'm used to killing, sometimes hand-to-hand. You don't survive on the front without knowing how to use a gun AND bayonet. I'd killed before. I knew I'd kill again, even if I didn't get this job. But there's something very different about feeling the body heat of the person you would kill. Feeling their arms struggle as you lead them to their death. Hearing the soft crying of some of the weaker ones behind you. Smelling their terror, or anger, or sweat. I would be the last thing this man saw. I would be the last one to touch him while he lived. I would be the one to place the noose around his neck, and cause him to fall to his death. And I'd be doing it for money. That's when I began to doubt myself.

Sorry, went off topic a bit there, where were we? Oh, right. 13 of us lead prisoners to the gallows. Once behind the gallows, we proceeded to lower the pants of our victims to give them one last chance at retaining their dignity. My guy struggled, the scent of anger washing over him. It took most of my strength to stop him getting loose. Beside me, I heard the clattering sounds of the prisoners' urine. The hard soil wasn't able to quickly absorb the amount of urine dropping, so both prisoners and executioners ended up standing in warm puddles. My prisoner decided not to relieve himself, as another pathetic protest. I was first to ascend the gallows, and first to place my prisoner on the barrel. The next 6 trainees followed me, the final 6 would have to wait. My prisoner was still trying to resist me. I had to twist his arm up behind his back and force him forward. Once placed in position, I hopped onto the taller barrel, grabbed the noose and placed it around his thick neck. Pulling that knot tight, a little too tight I think, was enough for him to realize his situation. He began to cry. He even wet himself in fear, probably knowing he'd missed any chance to break free. That's not something you expect to see, ever. Not from someone that big. I'd seen soldiers in front of firing lines that wouldn't flinch at death. Heck, half the GDA I'd killed had stared right into my eyes as I pulled the trigger. Real dragons didn't flinch, they didn't cry. They certainly didn't piss their pants at the thought! That's the first thing that changed for me. I began to see these prisoners as pathetic. I pitied them, but didn't want to spare their cowardice. At least the growing stains on his pants would make a good show for the audience. Since this was a training exercise, the general public or victims of the crimes weren't allowed watch since something might go wrong. Instead there was half a unit of soldiers, standing to attention and staring up at the gallows. There were some additional examiners and a few trainees for the next batch of training present as well, of course - just like I had been a few days earlier. I kept one hand on the handcuffs binding my victim's arms, to stop him from moving off the barrel, as the others were prepared. One of our group completely lost control his prisoner. The prisoner refused to walk up the stairs and sobbed on his knees like a child missing a toy, tears running out from the bottom of his mask. His executioner trembled, not able to stand straight, face down with tears in his eyes. He pitied the man he was meant to kill, and couldn't bring himself to force him up. The gold-badge took the prisoner from the ground, lifted him to his feet, and lead him behind the gallows and into its shadow. A single shot rang out.

The gold-badge returned as the crying trainee was lead away. Once he ascended the gallows he stood in front of us and said "Announcement!" On cue, I moved to the edge of the gallows and recited the name, crime, and punishment of my victim - "Before you stands Chun Xang, former store owner in central Sichuan City. Convicted on 3 counts of spreading dissent and 2 counts of misleading police, he will suffer the punishment for his crimes." Once I was done and began to move back to the barrel, the next trainee began his recitation. Once all trainees had announced, I placed my bare foot on the barrel and waited for the final signal. I kept my face neutral; to match the soldier's watching. I could see the trainee next to me was sporting a sneering grin. The gold-badge raised his arm. I leaned firmly on the barrel, knowing I was about to end a man's life. Knowing my future job was on the line as well. I began to doubt myself again, wondering whether I could even do this. Whether I could kill a man that wasn't attacking me, that hadn't shot me, that wasn't an enemy. A man who's body warmth I had enjoyed on this chilly morning as I marched him to his death. My face froze, still in its neutral expression. The gold-badge was dropping his arm. *ka-THUNK* 5 barrels slid away in unison. Mine was one of them. Even with such a heavy charge on my barrel, it was easy to kick it away. Especially if you grip the handcuffs and pull them towards you, while pushing the barrel forwards. The sneering jerk beside me had gotten distracted it seems. As soon as he realized everyone else had stepped back, he quickly kicked his own barrel. His charge swung awkwardly, clearly not as intended. I could hear the crash as he swung into his executioner and nearly knocked him over. I couldn't tell if he was struggling, as he swung back and forth, but I guess the added force was enough to break his neck. I kept my eyes on my own victim, of course. My victim did struggle as intended. The noose was still securely placed in the middle of his neck and bit into the thick muscles. Everyone was silent. The only sounds came from the creaking ropes and the gasping victims. I couldn't hear any gasps from my prisoner, which was a good sign that the rope had cut off his airway. A strong scent of a dying dragon breezed into my nose. I had never smelled it so strongly before. After a few minutes I noticed his struggling grew weaker and his muscles relaxed. I felt queasy and my heart was racing. The execution was completely different than the killings on the battle field. I forced myself to stand straight and tried not to tremble. We waited for a second signal, as the new batch of trainees in the audience were led into the school. Then we moved to inspect our victim. A few twitches were still evident from mine, but a quick check to the wrist revealed no pulse. Looking down the line, I could see one prisoner clearly conscious and kicking towards the far end of the gallows. As we waited, the one still kicking managed to twist out of the noose and fall onto the stage. The gold-badge quickly dispatched him by forcing his heel through the already raw neck before he could recover. After receiving a positive signal from the rest of us, the gold-badge released the ropes from their clamps causing all 5 dragons to drop. We handed the corpses down to the front row of soldiers who quickly took aim at the nape and shot each ex-prisoner once to ensure there were no survivors. We readied the next noose, throwing it over the support beam and placing it through the clamp to secure it at the right height. Then we placed the barrels back in position and descended from the gallows. As the second group prepared to mount the gallows, each of us went to our victim and removed the mask. This was the final part of the test. We were expect to stare into the now lifeless eyes for 1 minute. I am a bit embarrassed to say, that this was the part I feared most. I didn't know what to expect behind that smiling and innocent looking mask. Sweat was on my forehead and I could smell my own fear. But it turned out, that it was not as hard as I feared. After removing the mask and the mouth strap, I held the clammy skin of my victim's neck with both hands, smelling the stench of death as it grew. His eyes looked like they were pleading for mercy that he never received. His face was bluer than normal, thick tongue poking out of his mouth. It still surprises me how frightening a dead man can look. It's so unnatural for a face to be still and slack, and blue. For a tongue to just rest limp. And for eyes to look so empty. I felt sorry for him, but there was a much bigger feeling of achievement at seeing him dead. That was a strange switch. I was sure my father would be proud of my first execution, after he was very disappointed about my... "dirty" career. "This ends your test. Proceed to the entrance and go home.", the gold-badge said.

That was all that was said to us when our minute was up. With that brief statement, we were dismissed. We walked away from the gallows, behind the stoic soldier audience, and went home. The jock beside me was talking, boasting about how well he killed. I swear, I came close to punching him. Assholes like that wouldn't make it in the military, and if he thought he could get his kicks from killing people, he shouldn't be an executioner. I'm pretty sure he didn't make it, though. Anyway, that was it. I went home, and the next day they called me back. They asked me about my exam: Was the noose tied correctly? Would you tie it differently? - to which I answered "yes". They used 6 windings, I prefer 8. Was your prisoner dead before being released? Simple questions with simple answers. Do you think you did any mistakes? - I answered "no" but was unsure if it could be interpreted as a mistake that my prisoner refused to urinate when I gave him the chance, or if I did something else wrong which I didn't notice. How did you feel, killing someone? This question I was prepared for. I mentioned how I'd done it before, but it was less personal in the war. That I didn't take pleasure in killing, like some of my fellows. And that I enjoyed a job well done, even if it was an execution. That got a smirk from the person questioning me. "Congratulations, Mr. Sheng. Under the powers given to me by our Beloved Leader, I am pleased to inform you that you are officially recognized as a state qualified executioner. Here is your official badge, as you have completed your first assignment." My silver skull-shaped badge was handed to me in a rather plain box. I felt very proud receiving it. "You will now be responsible for any execution in your requested area of Taibai City that the main executioner is unable to attend. You will be responsible for the maintenance of the gallows there. You must keep it in working order and proper state. You will place the announcement posters for the executions, control the crowd as needed and carry the corpses away. You will be paid 200 Crowns per execution performed. A Telex will be sent informing you of any assignments. Do not forget to forward this to your unit when you are on the front line." "Thank you, sir. I will not disappoint" "No, I don't think you will. Tell me, do many crimes occur in Taibai?" "No, sir. But the current executioner is approaching retirement. I don't expect him to continue for much longer." "Good to hear. We need more like you. Tell me, how many from your group do you think succeeded?" "To be frank, sir, I hope three specific trainees failed. But out of the twelve that managed to hang their prisoner I expect ten of us passed." "Hah! Out of a class of twenty? The eight you watched when you arrived were the last eight from a batch of twelve. Only two of those succeeded. Your group was a bit better, but you and three others are being certified. And believe me, those knuckle-headed shits that think it's fun to torment prisoners didn't make it. But onto further business. You executed a guilty man. I expect you to realize that all victims of your gallows will be the same: They will all be guilty. They will all refuse to accept this. And they will all die, making the world a better place."

"One last thing, Mr. Sheng. When you are back in Taibai, you will receive your white executioner pickup car. You will need it for the transport to the undertaker. The current executioner will hand over the keys to you. Take care of it. It is property of the state, but in your custody as long as you are executioner."

I liked that gold-badge. We ended up going out for drinks that night before I went back to Taibai. I ended up showing him some of my... other skills. We shared a few tastes. But that's another story...