My fingers pulled the black mask over his face. If he was afraid, he did not show it in his expression, but I recognized the stench of fear. It was in his eyes, it was always in their eyes. My fingers felt his skin shiver under the mask as the coarse rope was put over his neck. It drooped around his neck exactly like I wanted. The loop was perfectly calibrated for his size and would give him a clean death. There was a small group of people, unusually sitting in silence. A few people sobbed quietly and a handkerchief constantly wiped the trickles of tears off their cheek. They were not crying for his loss, I knew that, they were crying because of what he took from them. Only the very brave, or a mother came to shed a tear for him.
Sometimes, they are rapists, child fuckers, serial psychopaths, gangsters, but they all had one thing in common, they were murderers. My hand tightened around the lever. A judgement in a court was made and now this man’s final judgement would be made by me. Even so, many don’t realise it, but it is truly a host of judgments that start long before the court’s mallet smashes down. It’s the media, it’s the mob, it’s his victims, it’s the politician all there, and then I make the final judgement... no, not the final judgement, the second last judgement. The final judgement will be made by God.
The usual ritual was carried out. He was asked to give his last words. He grunted, a last attempt to have the last laugh. Even in that I could smell his fear of the unknown, yet the fury in everyone’s faces showed they saw it as defiance. Some scream out for mercy to live, some would softly beg for the victim’s forgiveness, but all of them had the same fear of the unknown of death.
The Prison Guard nodded his head. In my mind I said a small prayer for him, my lungs pulled in a deep breath, my chest feel the immense weight press on it and my hand tugged the lever. The flap of the wooden platform swung open. His body began falling through it, until the rope gave a jerk, his neck snapped and the murderer was dead.
There his body stood swinging silently like a pendulum of a clock. Some howled, some looked hollowly on and some could not even look at what once was a living being.
Killing a person changes you, it changed me and with every life I take I fall deeper into an abyss.
Sometimes, they are rapists, child fuckers, serial psychopaths, gangsters, but they all had one thing in common, they were murderers. My hand tightened around the lever. A judgement in a court was made and now this man’s final judgement would be made by me. Even so, many don’t realise it, but it is truly a host of judgments that start long before the court’s mallet smashes down. It’s the media, it’s the mob, it’s his victims, it’s the politician all there, and then I make the final judgement... no, not the final judgement, the second last judgement. The final judgement will be made by God.
The usual ritual was carried out. He was asked to give his last words. He grunted, a last attempt to have the last laugh. Even in that I could smell his fear of the unknown, yet the fury in everyone’s faces showed they saw it as defiance. Some scream out for mercy to live, some would softly beg for the victim’s forgiveness, but all of them had the same fear of the unknown of death.
The Prison Guard nodded his head. In my mind I said a small prayer for him, my lungs pulled in a deep breath, my chest feel the immense weight press on it and my hand tugged the lever. The flap of the wooden platform swung open. His body began falling through it, until the rope gave a jerk, his neck snapped and the murderer was dead.
There his body stood swinging silently like a pendulum of a clock. Some howled, some looked hollowly on and some could not even look at what once was a living being.
Killing a person changes you, it changed me and with every life I take I fall deeper into an abyss.
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