Mister D

I walked along the edge of the wall, looking down into the faces of the townsfolk. They stared up with empty eyes and sunken cheeks.
“You will not decide my future,” I said.
“You are the chosen sacrifice,” they said.
The king’s men jumped at my ankles, but I kicked away their gauntlets.
“I will not be devoured,” I said, shaking my fist at the sky.
“We’re starving.” Their dirty mouths hung thick with drool.
Seating myself on the brick ledge, I saw but one escape.
“Yolks on you,” I screamed.
Rolling forward, I plummeted into pieces on the street.