Guilt was written all over his face. He hung his head low trying – and failing – to hide his emotions. There was a whoosh of air, and then a sicken thud as the axe came down. A hush fell over the crowd. In the distance the sobs of a woman could be heard. A moment of morning passed, and then people begun filtering out of the town square. Back to their routine lives.

Hidden by the crowd, he slunk back to his little brick apartment. He couldn't flush the image from his mind, the horror on the poor girls face. To have her life taken away so soon. If he had known it would come to this, he never would've let someone else take the fall. He got home and sat down on a dinning room chair, his mind overflowing with his guilty conscience.

Swallow your pride, he thought. It had to be done. He sighed, ready to resign to his bed for the evening, when a soft knock sounded at the door.

The sound startled him out of his seat. He walked to the door, opening it to find only a piece of paper where he expected a person.

He looked both ways down the halls. No one was in sight. He knelt down and picked up the note. Inside he found the words that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

'I know what you've done.'