Alex remembered his home. It was cold and damp most of the year and smelled like piss. Perhaps it was too generous to call it his home and more accurate to say it was someplace he often slept. Whatever he called it, he wished he were back there now. There, he was at least free to leave and he had a blanket that he filched from the corpse of the previous poor resident. Here, well here he had none of those luxuries. He was also pretty sure he was going to die soon.
Alex had made several poor choices in his short life, since his alternatives to poor choices were more often than not bad choices and worse choices. His latest choice appeared to have been one of the worse variety seeing as he was due for execution today. It all started when he took the job. It was an easy job or it should have been anyway. Deliver the letter. They never said what was in the letter though, and if they had, well Alex would have asked for more rubles. It was only after he delivered the letter that he found out he had been working for the revolutionaries. While the leader of this cell was a excellent orator and brilliant intellectual, he lacked some common sense and neglected to silence the hotel staff with a sufficient bribe. Along with the revolutionary leadership, Alex was rounded up by the police when they stormed the hotel where the meeting was being held.
Most of the revolutionaries had already been executed by now, their trials were brief and the firing squad was quick to dispatch them. Alex waited with his cell mates Ivan and Ivan II. He had accepted his fate and was prepared to die. He had resolved to die like one of the legendary thieves he had heard stories of while on the streets. That most of the heroes of the poor ended up being executed at some point had previously inspired Alex to not be among their number, but seeing the chance he figured he would take it since he was dying anyway. Alex planned a grand speech that he would give to the crowd at his execution revealing his most daring exploits and how he fought in the name of the people. The vast majority of it was lies and ideological bull shit he had heard from the revolutionaries but he thought it would sound good. He particularly liked the part where he seduced a Count's young wife and she helped him steal the family jewels. Of course He had to get it all straight so he practiced his speech on his cellmates.
"Any final words you say? Of course we must give those who gather here today a true spectacle befitting the death of one such as I! Hear this people of Zapadngorod! I am Alexander Zakharov, son of Andrei Zakharov. Before my most untimely demise I shall regale you with my many feats of cunning and bravery."
Alex spoke confidently and gestured with his hands clearly forgetting they would be tied behind his back. He wished to make a grand impression but was still piecing together how he would introduce himself to the most effect. He hoped they didn't blindfold him or the ladies might not see his rogue like face of which he was quite proud of.
"Ivan, what do you think of my speech so far? It sound good to you?"
Ivan looked up at Alex blankly then went back to sleep on the straw he had gathered in the corner. Alex frowned which made his scraggly beard itch. Of course it would have been better for his roguish looks if he had simply shaved it off as it never quite came in just right, but he had been growing it since months before his capture and had lost the chance along with his razor at the hotel that fateful day.
"Mindless Cretan. It wasn't that boring was it? Well fuck you too Ivan!"
Ivan II looked at Alex with a hurt look but otherwise seemed to be paying attention. Ivan II was mostly paying attention for other reasons although Alex suspected it was for the same reason he had caught Ivan II nibbling on his toes the night before.
"No not you Ivan, the other Ivan. Anyway you think its a good speech right?"
Of course Ivan II wouldn't respond to Alex as he was a rat same as the other Ivan. His human cell mates had all been dragged out and shot one by one until only Alex was left. Just then Alex heard a commotion out in the hall. It sounded like the other prisoners were jeering the guards, and Alex knew his time was coming for the prisoners only made this much noise on execution day when the guards came to fetch their victims. Alex quickly made the sign of the X across his chest and began to pray.
"Heavenly Mother protect your servant Alexander who is about to die. Let me join you in your home above that I may know peace and warmth. I go to you now. Amen."
He made his short and clumsy prayer to the holy Mother in hopes that he may find some comfort and to steel himself for what was to come. Alex was not a churchgoing boy nor had he ever been for all his 19 years unless one were to count the time he briefly resided at an abandoned church in the city slums. Yet religion finds a way to enter the minds of even the least pious of souls as death approaches, so it was with Alex as he listened to the heavy footfalls down the hall that surely heralded his doom. A lot was going through his mind at that moment ranging from, if he would go to heaven or hell, to if anyone would show to his execution. His legs felt like lead and he realized he was scared to die. The last thought that ran through Alex's mind before the door to his cell opened was,
"The people won't take my speech seriously if I piss myself!"