Gullivan Alternate Ending

Gullivan slumped against the cold stone wall, letting out a heavy sigh. His mind was numb from staring at the same cell door for days on end, and he was beginning to think his journey had really come to an end. Gullivan’s fingers tapped incessantly, itching to grab onto a solid book. He longed to feel the rough texture of crinkled papers, run his hands across the weathered edges of well-loved covers. He had long missed the simple comforts of his desk and home library, and perhaps even the mice that dug holes in his beloved bookshelves. He had been dragged away from his comfy home, and forced into a cruel cell, so he supposed that would make anyone miss home.
Gullivan stared down at his fidgeting hand, mentally tracing over his scars and callouses. …show more content…
“I suppose if I hadn’t been arrested for petty thievery they could’ve hung me for treason,” He smirked, and then began to laugh viciously. His strained laughter filled the room, echoing off the walls and back into his ears.
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Gullivan guessed he was probably going insane. Not that it mattered. He hardly thought either the guillotine or the executioner would let him off with an insane plea, and his mental healthy wouldn’t matter when his head was resting cozily on the blood drenched boards.There wasn’t a way out of this. He thought he had accepted that. But, apparently, he was a bigger coward than he thought.
Suddenly, approaching footsteps echoed throughout Gullivan’s room, and he bolted up. The door creaked as the the hinges strained support the wooden boards attached to them. On the other side of weathered door was tall, well built woman. Her brown eyes scanned the prisoner, and a smirk creeped up her lips.
“Get up,” She barked, giving Gullivan a rough kick. He gritted his teeth, taking in the abuse.
“Nice to see you too, Officer Recta. How’s the search for Rand …show more content…
Gullivan had had his own dealings with Rand, and they hadn’t been exactly pleasant.
Before she could reply, the two guards accompanying Recta carefully walked to Gullivan and yanked him up from the ground and cuffed him. Recta’s lip curled, and she raised her fists as if to hit him, but she refrained. She doubted another rage filled outburst would earn her the respect of her soldiers.
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The guards pushed and shoved Gullivan down the narrow hallway. It was lined by rotten doorand was filled with noise. Crying and screaming, curses and pleads. The smell of regret and rage was thick in the air.
As he passed by one cell he noticed out of the corner of his eye, a smile. It’s not like it was uncommon in the prison, many go insane enough, or already are, to smile in such a situation. But this one was different. It was like a spark. It was wild and dangerous. It was the kind of smile that started things, big things, bad things, but the most dangerous thing of all, was that Gullivan recognized it.
From where?
He had little time to ponder the question. With a yank and a push, Recta sent him to meet his