Author's Note: Oh, wow. I have not posted fanfiction is so long. But, I figured it was time to come out of my fanfic retirement for this cause. SulpiciaDoesntApprove is hosting a contest to get more Volturi fic out there. It's true, they deserve tons more love. So, this is my entry, using her prompt: "justice." Hope you enjoy!

Author: Estelle Rabon

Title: Executioners

Characters: Aro, Garrett, Caius, Chelsea

Genre: Drama, Angst

Rating: K+

Short Summary: The Volturi left Forks with their dignity shattered, but it wasn't long before they tracked down a certain revolutionary who had humiliated them in front of half the vampire world. Now, it's time to punish him.



The word echoed in his head, a bell that would

would not

would not stop

would not stop ringing.

He wished he could cover his ears, block it out, but his hands were held tightly in place behind his back. Iron-heavy fingers circled his wrists, wrenched his arms behind him so forcefully that he almost heard skin tear.

It was beginning.

Figures dipped in and out of his vision, shadowed ghosts wearing the distinctive hood and cloak of the judgejuryexecutioners. Their voices slithered toward him, venom poisoning every word.


Was that what they called it?

One figure was drawing closer; he could almost make out the features—long, tapered nose, skin as white and delicate as paper.

Aro sauntered toward him, an infuriating smile on his lips.

"Garrett, isn't it?" he sighed. Poison dripdripdriped from his tongue.

Garrett didn't make a sound.

Aro came closer, his robe rustling over the stone floor. He paused before Garrett, examining him with an idle curiosity, and then he lifted Garrett's chin with his forefinger.

"Do you have any idea the trouble you have caused me?" Aro whispered. His eyes flashed with anger, but that same maddening smile twisted his lips.

I only wish I'd caused more, Garrett thought. Aro's brows swooped together for a moment, his displeasure clear on his face, but the moment passed and his face smoothed into a calm mask.

"Ah, dear me," he said, smiling wistfully. "We are certainly lucky we caught you, aren't we? I judge that you are far too dangerous to be left unattended…"

"Unattended!?" another voice spat. A white-haired ghost slipped into view—Caius. He drew abreast of Aro and scowled. "We are risking enough just keeping him alive!"

Aro ignored him, keeping his gaze on Garrett. He sighed softly, a whisper in the shadowed room. "Of course, properly channeled, you could be of great use to us. Unfortunately, some of our fellow members feel that you are not worth saving…"

"But it won't be saving, will it?" Garrett muttered. "It will be slavery. You'll tie my brain in a knot, and I won't be able to do anything about it."

Aro's hand tightened on Garrett's chin. "Regardless," he said, somewhat icily, "I think you will like it here." He jerked away and motioned off to the side. "Chelsea, if you please…"



A new shadow flitted toward him, briefly pressed her hand against his bound wrists. "I'll only need a moment," she said softly.

A moment. A moment to undo it all—his past, his memories, Kate (he felt his whole body throb as he thought her name)—all of it would be broken beyond repair, and he'd be one of them. They'd warp his mind, and he'd be a sick, groveling pawn for them to suck dry. And he'd worship them through every moment of it.


Chelsea stood in front of him, stretched out her hand toward his brow…


He couldn't lose her. If they wiped her away, tossed aside every ounce of love he felt for her, he… he would want to die. That was the only option that deserved contemplation, the only sentence he could live (ha!) with.

"Just kill me…" he muttered. His voice splintered, broke apart. Chelsea hesitated, her hand inches from his face, and then she looked over her shoulder, waiting for her cue from Aro. A puppet, unable to even think without their say-so…

"Go on, dear," Aro called. He was sitting somewhere off to the side, but Garrett only looked at Chelsea, his eyes pleading.

"Kill me, please, please, kill me now, kill me…" No response. "Kill me!"

Chelsea stared at him, and he saw her face crumple. Her obedient façade broke, and for a moment, her features contorted with pain.

"I am," she whispered and cupped her hand around his cheek.

The next and last thing he thought was how lucky he was to be chosen to serve