Rehab for Murderers

Chapter 1 - Framed

Chris wished he hadn't opened his door. God, he wished he never left home at all. One little trip to the store, and he comes home to see what he wishes he'd never see in his life. His jaw dropped and hung open wide. What he saw would scare anyone to their core, especially if what they saw was their lover dead on the floor, blood covering the room. He was in such fear that he couldn't even say her name out loud.

"N-no...." Was all he could say as he fell to his knees, dropping the groceries he carried.

Tears rolled down his cheeks as he slowly walked over to her corpse, and that's when he saw the knife in her gut, the chef's knife. His tears dripped into the pool of blood surrounding her dead body, by now he could hear the sirens off in the distance, someone had already called the police. He couldn't bear to see the knife in her stomach the way it was, so he quickly gripped the handle and ripped it out. As much as he hated to hear her scream, he wished she would, hoping she was still alive to scream, but alas not even a peep escaped her lips.

By now, he realized he had his prints on the knife, before dropping the knife to the ground. It made a thud as it splashed into the blood. He already had her blood on his shirt, if the cops were to walk in and see this, he'd immediately be branded as the murderer. Unfortunately for Chris, that's exactly what happened.

"Freeze!" A cop shouted as he raised his gun towards the man, practically a boy at the age of 18. "Put your hands in the air!"

"Wait! It wasn't me! I didn't do this!" Chris shouted in fear. He knew he'd get in trouble for it, even if he didn't do it. He had no choice but to comply, raising his hands in clear view of the police.

Quickly, an officer walked over to him and threw him in a pair of handcuffs, having to wrestle poor Chris to the floor after he tried to break free. Chris' face was pushed into the blood that once belonged to his lover that now belonged to the carpeted floor. He was rushed out of his apartment so fast that he didn't even get another look at his lover's corpse, not that he wanted to see her that way anyways.

"I didn't..." He said.

"Shut the hell up." The officer said before throwing Chris into the back of the police cruiser.

Part of him was happy that he was being taken away, maybe the thought of execution would take his mind off of what he just saw. Even if he didn't do it, maybe death would keep him from ever having to see that image ever again. The cop entered the driver's seat of the cruiser, and they drove off.

~~~

A few days passed by, and Chris was in a cell, waiting for his execution to come. It was decided by the judge that he was guilty. He was the only one seen with her that night, that and only his fingerprints were on the knife.

How he would go out was unknown; for the past 5 years, already convicted murderers were given a secret execution, no one knows if it's by hanging, firing squad, electric chair, or lethal injection. Most people assumed lethal injection, since it was considered the most human way of execution, yet no one was ever sure. Chris sat on his bed, leaning against the wall, thinking of his lover's blood before wanting to throw up. His eyes grew watery before slamming his hands over his face, trying his best to stop the tears from making their presence known.

"Psst, Chris." A voice said from outside the cell.

Chris slowly pulled his hands away from his face and looked through the small window on the cell door. From the window, he saw someone he thought he'd never see again, his best friend James. "J-James?"

"It's me C," James said, using the nickname he's called Chris since childhood.

"What're you doing here? Gonna insult me, or maybe threaten to kill me for something I never did like everyone else?" Chris asked before looking away, ashamed to make eye contact with his friend.