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Worthyville is a beautiful town. The birds are always chirping as the sun warms their nests. The lush green grass tends to pop out as if it were painted on a canvas. Every home in the small town is surrounded by a freshly painted white picket fence, and the happy disposition of the locals fits its atmosphere to a tee. To a person driving through it may remind them of a small town from all of those cliché 1950’s sitcoms.
It is a town rich with its own history. Its villagers pride themselves on upholding all the traditions established by their founders. Like the “Festival of Freedom” it holds every year. The roots of this festival can be traced back to the 1800’s while the town was still being developed. Legend has it that the town’s founding fathers faced constant turmoil and attacks from a local native tribe, The Gamconians.
The men had brought their families out west during the gold rush. Even though they did not have much luck in their attempt at finding infinite riches many of them fell in love with its scenic view. It was a beautiful prairie valley surrounded on all sides by a beautiful mountain landscape. They decided while the gold may not have been bountiful the land had a lot to offer. They decided to stay and build their campsite into a flourishing community.
This upset the Gamconians greatly. They had tried countless failed methods of thwarting the budding town’s efforts. The townsmen kept building and the village kept growing, but a rogue native devised a heinous act to scare them off once and for all. He convinced his tribe that his idea was the only way.
With the support of his tribe they set out under the cover of night. In an attempt to scare the white men off they snuck into the town while everyone slept. Creeping around in the shadows cast by the moon they made their way through the village. They entered each dwelling stealing away the town’s children before retreating back to their land.
This only infuriated the normally docile townsmen. The villagers were unsure as to the Gamconians intent with the children, but many of them kept entertaining the idea that they had slaughtered every last one of them. They swiftly formed a lynching mob and set out to find those who had executed the vile deed.
The townspeople stormed the Gamconian village cutting through it a chaotic path of destruction. They fought the primitive people in an attempt to save any of their children that might still be left alive. Men, women, or children it did not matter as they murdered all that tried to stand in their way. They set fire to their village burning up their homes as well as their food supply; wiping away any signs of their previous existence. Gamcoa had violated the good people of Worthyville, and were going to pay for their sins.
During the massacre they found where their children had been stashed. Releasing them from their holding cell the townsmen started to capture any of the natives they could. They managed to detain several.
Once back in Worthyville they chained the natives to trees. Unable to do anything the natives were forced to endure humiliation and punishment. The women and children poked them with sticks and kicked the defenseless men, while the men went to the center of town and began constructing the gallows. They wanted it big enough to execute all seven of them at once.
When they finished they paraded the malnourished natives through the town singing, “There’s gonna be a hangin’ tonight!” They banged on pots and pans as they danced around the humiliated starving natives. The women and children would join in by laughing and throwing stones at them as the Gamconians passed by.
The townsmen celebrated all the way to the newly constructed death device in the center of town. The Gamconians were proud and showed no fear as they stared Death right in his face. Their arms were tightly bound behind their backs.
The town was blood thirsty; a quick death was out of the question. They did not place the large knot of the noose at the side of their necks. This would have bettered their chances of their neck snapping as their body weight caught the rope. Instead, the masked executioner slipped the noose around each of the sentenced men, placing the knot at the back of their necks.
When he opened the trap doors the men dropped. The rope instantly sealed off their air passages as gravity pulled at their bodies. Their bodies kicked and convulsed as they became more oxygen deprived. Even through all this their faces never showed any fear slipping off into the great unknown. They left the dead men hanging by their ropes. Letting their bodies send a message to all who would dare try to transgress against them.
This story along with the famed gallows became a staple of the town’s heritage. The legend that surrounded these actual events was enough to keep the town safe for many years to come until the great depression hit.
The great depression brought with it a great famine. As the barren fields produced more dust than crops starvation caused the world’s population to act out. The food that was around was to expensive causing certain countries to seek out new sources to fill their bellies.
Worthyville managed to stay self maintained. The few fields that did allow seeds to grow were spitting out puny harvests. The livestock were withering away, but it seemed as if the small stream that ran through the village was as bountiful with fish as ever. The town worked together to make sure no one did without. Even so, their food supply was spread very thin. That was when a small country from the north, Hardesia, made its presence known.
It had had its eye on the peaceful village for some time. Their lack of defense caused the Hardesians to view them as weak. With hunger controlling his actions the king of Hardesia sent in a small battalion of his best seven soldiers as an expedition of the town. He wanted to make sure they were as feeble as they portrayed.
The band of Hardesians made its way through the town harassing women, vandalizing property, and searching for food. The soldiers were taking what they wanted and destroying the rest. They cut a path of destruction through Worthyville trying to strike fear into the hearts of its residents. They were hoping to get the unprotected town to surrender or retreat, but that was not what they got.
Instead of fear the Hardesians stirred the town’s violent temper. While the town chose to portray a quaint peaceable village it still had an ugly side that only the Gamconians had previously known.
Worthyville appeared to them as a town of sitting ducks as the outsiders paved their path of plunder. When they hit the middle of the town they saw the infamous gallows. The tale of the gallows had made its way even to their village. If it was not the gallows that had turned the tables and drove the steak of fear into their hearts it was the mob of angry townspeople that suddenly surrounded them. As they stood there in the midst of their ambush the Hardesians could not believe that the small backwoods town had gotten one over on them.
Men, women, children were all around with the barrels of their firearms fixed on the intruders. Defeated they dropped their weapons and surrendered, but this was not enough for the locals. They believed that not only should the men ultimately pay for the carnage they brought with them. They also thought that a message needed to be sent out to strike fear into all future would be conquerors. A message so significant that it would stretch far passed the mountains that surrounded them.
The gallows had been a landmark that the locals took pride in. Although, they may have not used it in decades they still maintained it for historical significance. It had remained unused until that fateful day.
The seven men up were quickly strung up. The locals watched as the fierce warriors begged and pleaded for their lives. They placed the knot at the backs of their necks before triggering the trap door.
After the ropes took their lives the townsmen cut them down. They restrung them by their ankles from the gallows header. The town butcher stepped forward to perform his job. He ran his knife along their throats to drain the blood from his carcasses. He then gutted them taking the blade and making a rough incision from the pelvis to the chest. The cut immediately allowed their entrails to drop to the wooden platform. He reached in with bare hands and pulled out the organs that gravity could not get. After he had ridded the bodies of what he couldn’t use he grabbed a second knife. It was the same knife he used to skin the beasts brought to his shop. He began to peel back their flesh like the hide of a hog. His sharp blade made it a simple task.
Once the game was ready to be butchered he had them brought to his shop so he could properly prepare them. He cut: slabs of ribs, steaks, chops, and also ground some up to make hamburgers for the kiddies. With the meat ready to be cooked he took it all back to the gallows.
The townspeople had not left. In his absence they had set up and decorated their downtown for a festival of massive proportions. There was music playing while the children danced, they had their cookers warming up, and everyone was gathered around to partake of their feast. For the first time the struggles of the depression were far from their minds. They enjoyed their cannibalistic cuisine and laughed until the late twilight hours, and on that day the “Festival of Freedom” was born.
While now, in modern times they do not face the same hardships of their forefathers they still honor the traditions that they created. The gallows are still maintained, partially for their historical importance.
They no longer face the threats of other civilizations trying to overtake their small community. From time to time, however, a straggler will blow into town and try to disrupt their harmony, or a grungy vagabond will try to make a home in its clean streets. Once a year for the festival they clean out their jail, homeless shelter, and anywhere else the unwanted may find themselves; for a good old fashioned bar-be-que.
