DEATH SENTENCE

CHAPTER 1

It was the darkness in the hallway that suited me well. In the course of the year I became attached to darkness and solitude. I am a creature of darkness.

I tiptoed my way to the door. It wasn't easy, but I had practiced a lot. All the trials I had put myself through was for this moment. For this moment when everything is going to pay off. I want to enjoy this moment. I had lived for this moment, and in this moment for a long time. This is the time to make it a reality. Nothing amiss, nothing wrong, nothing imperfect. Perfection is the key.

I stood outside the door, staring at the entrance of the house which had harbored a vile man behind these doors. He had lived in happiness behind these doors. Now he is going to hell and the doors will see that. It saddened me that the walls and the doors will be the only witness to this justice that I had provided in this world. There is nothing I need more than a mass crowd cheering me as I torture him. That thought made me scowl. The world is imperfect.

I nudged the door with my foot. I was right. He was stupid enough to leave the door open. I smiled to myself. Karma has a weird way to make things just happen. Justice always has a way to do its deed. Now I will do it for him. 

I wedged my way in, careful enough not to make any sound or leave any prints on the door. How ironic? I'm doing the police's job of providing justice. But I'am the one who is running away from them. They should call me their hero. They should worship me. Once again I was infuriated at how this imperfect world works. But it does not do anything to dwell on that. I will do it for them. Give the world more than you take.

Now I stood inside his house. Or what was left out to be called a home. It was like a huge hurricane swept around the house and the hurricane had bought all the bottles of liquor in the world and dropped it here. 

The floor was covered with vodka and beer bottles. So much that I became worried how am I going to navigate it without making a noise. The couch on the corner had chips and pizzas strewn across it. There was even some broken glass pieces. Maybe one of them had picked a fight with another and decided to settle it by a broken bottles spree.

Then there was the stench. I had to close my nose with my gloved hands to stop myself from gagging. As if liquor smell wasn't enough, there was a lingering vomit smell too. I was kind of prepared for this kind of a situation, but this was overwhelming. 

When at last I was able to breathe normally I peeled my hand off my nose and got ready to the perilous journey to the room across the hall. Not an easy task I reckon you that. He maybe in a party mood now but the man is cunning as a fox. Being in his profession he certainly will have a gun beside him. I never underestimate my enemies. I see then equally intelligent as I'm. That is what keeps in pace and keeps my stupidity in check.

I navigated my way to the the door across the hall. One time the bottles were in a big cluster that I lost my balance and almost fell over. But luckily my reflex kicked in immediately and I clutched my stomach to stop me from falling. 

I allowed myself a sigh of relief. But there is more to go. I have to finish the deed I started. Swiftly, silently.

Perfection

Once again I nudged the door open with my feet and walked inside slowly. 

This room, the man's bedroom, was neat to say the least. After the partial darkness outside, the brightly lit room hurt my eyes and I squinted and waited for my eyes to get used to it. Everything was neatly arranged and all in place. 

I had expected this. He may be a total casinova and like to party a lot but he draws line on some personal things. Like the fact that he never allowed anyone, not even his brother, to sleep over is house which gave me the best advantage over everything. He keeps his bedroom clean, his hands clean. Just not his mind. It is crooked and dirty.

Today he won a large amount of money in a horse race.

Today is probably the best day in his life.

And I'm here to turn it as his worst.

And there he was, slumped on a chair across the room. He probably passed out after drinking so much. 

I viewed him, the bastard he is. He is handsome. Even drunk and unconscious he had the smug, arrogant look on his face. He can look sweet while he is killing you. You will never know, never would have guessed. He is tactical and brutal. Just as I am.

I walked towards him, slowly, silently, all the way searching for his gun.

And there it was, on the reading desk next to him. 

I grabbed it swiftly, not bothering to be silent this time. And sure enough I made a clatter enough to make him stir, he attempted to open his eyes. I know that his sight will be blurred for a few moments so I used that moment to pin him against the wall with one hand and pull out the chord from my duffel bag with the other. 

Now he started struggling. Slowly at first, but it grew stronger and stronger every second. I was almost pushed away, but I regained quickly. The adrenaline rush I was waiting for kicked in and I pushed him back with all the strength I had, letting the chords fall out of my hand. He opened his mouth to scream, but all he managed to do was gurgle as I plunged my knife his throat.

But no, he was not going to die just this soon. I had only cut his veins which will make him literally bleed dry before he can die.But no amount of treatment can help him now.

Perfection

I moved back, catching my breath. He was in a lot of pain but he was still struggling to get up. Poor thing still thinks he has a chance against me.

"Not so fast, bastard," I whispered loud enough for him to hear before I pushed him back with a brutal strength. This really feels good. 

I took the chords from the floor and tied him up. It was a strong, elastic chord. There was no escape now. I swiftly gagged his mouth too, careful not to leave any prints. 

I saw his pain through his eyes and my own pain partially evaporated. I can see the pain, the shock he was in. I know he is confused too.

"Want to know why I did this to you?" I whispered again. I took the photo from my pocket, careful not to see it myself, and showed it to him. 

Then I moved to his right and stuck the photo on the wall beside him. I was careful not to see it. Seeing it would make me doubt my cause.

I saw all his emotions. The initial confusion, then there was the recognition and then there was the confusion again. Who Am I? Why him? Why me?

I leaned forward to be in his face level. The pure terror on his face was the most blissful thing I ever wanted for a year. I saw it, I felt it, I lived for this moment.

"Good bye, bastard," I said near his eyes and he started struggling faster as if the fact that he is going to die just registered in his mind. 

"Happy dying!"

With that I stood straight, pocketed the knife and turned away.

I didn't bother to close the door.

Let the world know what I had done for it.

Let the world know my deed.

Let everyone know my gift to the world.