Prompt: “Well that was fun,” you chuckle, standing up from the guillotine and reattaching your head. “Don’t suppose we could put this whole rebellion thing behind us now, could we?”
I gloomily peered out at the horde of people. The cause of this mournfulness was not entirely my impending demise, as one might expect (though it certainly wasn't helping the matter). Instead, I was recounting, for perhaps the thousandth time, the bitter tragedy in my situation. Because I had won. At least, if one thought about it a certain way.
My wife and I, you see, we dedicated the whole of our scholarly careers, nearly 40 years, to helping these people. Thinking of her brought a little joy to me, even amidst all this, and I searched the crowds for her. I smiled, quickly finding the distinct hair, mussed and unwashed as it was. Hair styling was something of a guilty pleasure of hers, she opted to synthesize her own hair dye and product. She had managed to replicate the look of a powdered wig, but it had a fullness that they lacked. "mon petit chou-fleur", I repeated my nickname. I could just imagine her glare, had she heard it. But she hadn't, and you would think she was standing in a waking nightmare, with the expression on her face. I doubt she had gotten a lick of sleep since our final conversation. I didn't blame her, I hadn't either. I had paced around for the whole night, every minutes passage like another needle jammed into my spine.
What I wouldn't have done for just a single more embrace. It was hard not to get distracted thinking about it, and I certainly needed distracting at the moment.
But a glob of spit landed on my cheek, and suddenly I was back into reality.
So I looked back at all the faces, and again lamented how tragic it all was. Because I, better than anyone here (save Annette), knew of the latent potential each on of these jeering, hooting maniacs held. That all people did, really. I could only hope that they would build off some of our research and administrative legacy, and implement some form of universal public education. Among a variety of other projects for the public good Annette and I had devised with a small network of like minded colleagues. I wasn't in the right state to appreciate the irony that after a lifetime of subtly waging war on the ignorance of our political elite, I would be done in by the ignorance of the very people I advocated for.
But despite my attempts to distract myself, time marched on inexorably, as it does, and I was loaded onto a large device, the 'guillotine'. I remember reading a paper on the very subject. The man who invented it claimed that it was 'less barbarous' than other forms of public execution. I got one final glimpse at the wicked blade before my face was forced down onto a splintery spruce board. It didn't seem particularly civilized to me. I started holding my breath, wanting to have as little air in my brain as possible when my head was severed. Having witnessed several of these events before, I had seen the shifting expressions on the faces of the poor folk. I had a theory that this method of execution wasn't nearly as quick as it was purported to be, and I didn't want to be conscious for any longer than I had to be.
I searched around for Annette another time, wanting my final sight to be her. When I heard the rope being loosed I closed my eyes, determined to keep them so. There was a Dull pain in my neck, and I was a suddenly rolling around uncontrollably. then came to rest. Strangely, however, I felt no blood draining out of me. Not my body, either. And then I noticed I could feel my body. It was embarrassing that it took that long to realize, but my body felt just the same as it always had. I could feel my diaphragm, begging for fresh air. I gave in, and to my surprise, air jetted out. Air from lungs that rested a metre away conservatively.
Despite myself, I opened my eyes again, which peered sideways at my body. It lay in the position of a man alive. I was alive. It completely belied my understanding of biology and physics, but I couldn't deny the truth. My hands went to cover a mouth that wasn't in it's proper location.
"W-What!?", I yelled before I could stop myself. From the array of gasps and shocked curses I noticed, it had not gone undetected. Perhaps, I thought, It would have been better to bide my time and pretend to be a corpse. But that cat was out of it's bag, so I put aside my shock and decided to take control of the situation before some guard got wise and seized me. "Well that was fun!" I laughed, projecting confidence far more than I felt, briefly thankful for all the years of public speaking experience I had accumulated in my politicking. I then piloted my body from the third person, shooting up and snatching my fallen extremity with rope-bound hands, before standing straight and placing my head on, making small adjustments until I felt it all click back into place. The whole experience was surreal, but surprisingly intuitive.
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Not one to dwell, I plastered on a placating smile, "Don't suppose we could put this whole rebellion thing behind us now, could we?" I waited, and seeing the uncomprehending faces of the crowd, I continued, "Well, it's not actually the rebellion part I find objectionable. It's fairly reasonable, actually. I just don't agree with how you're all going about it." Silence. "You know, with the-" I motioned my hand chopping the back of my (seamless) neck.
In hindsight, I can see how the whole thing came off as a bit mocking or antagonistic. Downright villainous, Annette tells me, but I really didn't mean it that way.
In any case, my attempt at diffusing the situation backfired, and soon I found myself at sword point, staring down the man who ordered my execution. The way I saw it there was no way I was leaving here without suffering injuries of similar magnitude to the one I just suffered, so I thought I would take advantage of the situation.
Normally, I would be a bit more apprehensive of charging at a man with a sword trained at my sternum, but I was in a rather odd state at that moment, and I had a hypothesis to test.
The pain was less than I would have thought, unnaturally so. I had angled my hands instinctively to block my body, and found myself with a new hole and three fingers lesser, but fortunately the rope tie was severed. I clenched the sword with my stomach muscles and kneed his twin jewels. I never felt the need to be particularly 'honorable' or other such nonsense words, and he had attacked an unarmed man besides. I tore the sword from his weakened grasp, and bent down to pick up my fingers. I examined one, and saw the blood vessels pulsating from blood moving throughout the finger. Blood that was somehow coming from my completely detached body. It was fascinating.
Again, the fingers reattached seamlessly, 'clicking' into placed like finely machined clockwork. I closely examined the sword as I slowly removed it, the wound vanishing without a trace once the thing was out. I looked out for Annette wishing we could analyze this together. I spotted her once again in the crowd, eyes wide in fascination and body poised in immense relief. Our eyes locked, stayed put for a moment, and then she was off. Trying to be as inconspicuous about it as she could. She needn't have bothered, with the whole crowd transfixed on me. I understood her reasoning immediately. There was nothing she could do to help me, and if I really was as invulnerable as I seemed (something which we both must have doubted, but would have to test), her presence posed a weakness to me. She could be held hostage.
I realized that I should probably go, as well. Running into the crowd with a sword wouldn't help my image problem, but it would be quite hard to salvage that in the short term, anyways, and my survival was more important. The people had the good sense, at least, to stay well away from me (although I would have tried my best not to harm them as I ran), but the guards rapidly rid themselves of their stupor and made after me. They quickly caught up to me, malnourished and old as I was.
Luckily there were only three of them, given that my execution wasn't all that large of an event, and they never anticipated any kind or resistance. Also luckily, although they were certainly better trained than I was, they had never trained against one who needn't fear their strikes. It quickly became clear that I possessed an overwhelming advantage in this environment, and the last one ran after I dealt what were hopefully non-fatal injuries to the others.
After running for as long as I could and keeping as well out of sight as I could, I popped on a shirt I had taken from one of the guards, discarded my sword, and strolled out into the woods, searching for a copse of trees my wife and I had specified as our rendezvous. It was there we camped for a while. Ostensibly, it was because we had to wait a while for the everything to calm down, but it was really an excuse for my wife to be able to test me without distractions. She was the same whirlwind of insatiable curiosity she had been when I met her. Granted, I was similarly enthusiastic, despite the nature of the tests. and frankly spending just another week alive felt like an incredible blessing. We rapidly discovered that the only injuries that were affected were those that could lead to death, infection notwithstanding. We were unsure whether burns or blunt force would be affected the same way, so it was decided that we shouldn't risk it.
As a side note, I discovered much later that my ability functions the same with blunt force, when I was pushed off a building by another scientist who had not tempered his curiosity. Very strange man, that one.
After that, we made our way to the united colonies, or 'states' as you call yourselves, where we thankfully haven't been pursued any further. The rest is history, as you know, given that you're my biographer.
Anyway, I hope you got something usable out of that, and thanks for putting up with the ramblings of an old man. As for my plans, well, I've lived a long life, I thought I would try to determine whether my ability is affected by fire. I've got a strong feeling that it will be, but that's the beauty of science, isn't it?