The Detective And The Monster

𝙲𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚃𝚎𝚗: 𝙴𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚌 𝚂𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙾𝚏 𝙷𝚊𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚍

WARNINGS:
Execution

*.*.*.*

It was scalding, but not in any of the courses you may think. Sparks of blue execution sprouted from the wooden chair, and the sounds of roaring agony became louder, louder, louder! How long had this shock session been going on? It seemed neverending. Cathy, the devil of a woman, watched as Zack thrashed and screamed in pain, a sickening look of amusement on her face.

This was an execution, and Cathy was the only observant who wished ill on the man being convicted. Her adoration for the situation surged out of her, you could tell even through the television screen.

It felt like forever, but the sparks of blue electricity began to defuse, and the reverberating noise of the chair deactivating was the only sound left. You hadn't realized until now that you were on the floor, you must've stumbled over your own feet when the whole absurd methodology started.

"Oh my. . .Zack? Don't tell me you've already kicked the bucket," Cathy said, bringing a disappointing hand up to her pale face. "I had so much hope in you, too," her sense of sadness was entirely inauthentic, you could practically smell it off her.

With wide eyes, you watched as Zach twitched, his head lolling forward, going limp. His hair covered his heavily bandaged face, and his hand, once clenched tightly around the chair's arms, was now scarily relaxed. You felt your hand cramp, and you slowly rose to your feet, treading meekly to the bars that separated you from the immobile Zack. You didn't dare touch the bars, your hands would be surely burned from the sheer heat of the electricity.

". . . Zack?" You called delicately, hoping the man would respond in his usual pissy remark.

But there was no comeback.

Was he really dead? Dead from a dumb decision and a matter of a few seconds?

You found yourself inching impossibly closer to the iron bars. He can't be dead. He mustn't!

"Snap out of it!" You shouted, a sudden urge of desperation you would never be able to explain emerging from the pit of your stomach. It was weird, the thought of continuing through the floors of this building alone scared you beyond any other. Was it because you wouldn't have backup when dangerous situations arose? Or, was it something else entirely? You didn't bother to try and figure it out for yourself, for you were too caught up in the fact that Zack's hand twitched.

"Dammit! That hurt like a motherfucker!" Zack exclaimed loudly, pulling his head back against the chair and flailing around. "The hell you think you're doin'?!"

Your eyes widened, and you felt yourself release a puff of air from solace. You brought your hand to your chest, right above your rapidly beating heart. "Don't scare me like that, asshole," you mumbled, not intending for Zack to hear you. Thankfully, he didn't.

It was clear Zack hadn't completely recovered from the electric shock, you could see his fingers and parts of his face move uncontrollably.

"So, you're alive after all!" Cathy declared, giggling. You glared at the screen, the woman's face was painted with blush, relishing the predicament. "A homicidal maniac, and a monster? How fun! You're practically my ideal criminal!" The woman belched, bringing a hand to her chest and squinting her eyes in hilarity.

"Shut up!" You finally snapped at the woman, glaring menacingly at the television screen. If looks could kill, this woman's body wouldn't be recognizable.