"If patience is worth anything, it must endure to the end of time. And a living faith will last in the midst of the blackest storm."
― Mahatma Gandhi
"Dead man walking."
Two guards walk along each side of the Dead Man with their arms interlocked as they pass the different cells. One other guard follows close behind carrying a shotgun, as he walks he holds it tightly againsts his chest.
"Dead man walking."
The Dead Man he is bound head to toe in orange, chains, and tattoos. He looks forward as he walks ahead, feeling the eyes of every other inmate as he passes each cell. The group finally stop by the next to last cell on the left side. A door from across the room opens and the commanding officer followed by two other armed guards approaches the group and their prisoner. The three officer stand in attention as the commanding officer reads to them.
"HenBLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPson.
The entire cell block of inmates, if they haven't already, have stopped what they were doing after hearing the name that was just announced.
"Born January 26, 1929. Age, fity-two. By the order of the Texas Department of Criminal Justice, you have been sentenced to death for your crimes."
The commanding officer motions the guards to move the prisoner into the cell. They turn him around and as two other guards point a shotgun at the Dead Man's chest, two other guards remove the chains that bind him. He stands motionless as the two guards leave the cell and it is closed.
"Happy birthday Mr.BLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPson. Helcome to your new and last home.
The commanding officer walks away and through the door which he came followed by all but two guards. The remaining guards stationed themselves in a small room at the end of the small corridor of cells.
The Dead Man takes a seat on the mattress and lies on his back. It's late and they traveled all day to get to this facility. It's a small ten stall kennel for animals that need put down. Beings that need erased from humanity that should have never existed.
He pulls his arms above him under his pillow and pulls a small black bible from under it. He flips throughout and reads several verses aloud from it. The Dead Man has always been religious. He has always looked the way of the Lord. The sacrifices were made in the graces of GOD himself. He deflowered them and destroyed them.
"Yeah the sick son of a bitch swept across the souteast like a fuckin' raping killing maachine."
"How long did it go on?"
The two guards sit in the office going over their new house guest's file.
"Sixteen known murders in three years."
"How'd he get away with it so long?"
"The hell should I know, he spread 'em out though."
"You think he's going to cause any trouble?"
"Doubt it. The damn fucker found Jesus. All he did while he was rotting up north was praise GOD and accept death. If that sicker fucker thinks he's going up to the spirit in the sky, he's outta his damn mind."
"Yeah, Officer BLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP said to throw a bible in under the pillow. Guess he requested it and we 'had' to oblige."
"Can you believe their still trying to save him? The son of a bitch pleaded insanity the last week of the trial and fucked everything up. Extended it another six months. The riots in those towns were fucking crazy man. I wouldn't be surprised if we got an audience out back when we kill this guy."
The Dead Man reads his bible. He's read the book countless times over and over and he's never grown tired of it. He understands he may have disobeyed a few rules the Good Lord has laid out before his sheep. However, perhaps his commitment will sway the Heavenly Father's light back his way. He prays.
Time crawls inside the tiny holes in which this small group of men call home. The preacher came today and met with the Dead Man first. They talked about the Lord for nearly an hour. It made him feel better.
The guards will come by every few hours and leave a tray of food for the prisoners. That's the closest thing to social interaction the Dead Man gets on a daily basis other than the preacher.
"What ails you, my son?"
"I fear, Father. I fear the Good Lord has not yet forgiven me for my sins. I feel that my cleansing of this world was not as he expected of me."
"For the Lord does work in mysterious ways. Have you accept Jesus Christ into your heart as your Lord and Savior?"
"I have."
"Jesus Christ once died for the sins of humanity. You will be tried before the gates of Heaven for yours. You have proven to me that your heart is where it belongs and it is filled with Him. It is a shame time grows so short for you, my son."
After the preacher left, the Dead Man went back to his bible. He sat for several hours, skipping his last meal, and repeated the verses from the bible in his head.
Late the one night, the Dead Man was woken up by a scratching sound coming from one cell over from his. He rises up from his pillow and rests his ear against the wall.
"Hello?"
The scratching sound stops.
The Dead Man waits a moment, shrugs his shoulders, and lies back down. He nearly falls asleep before he hears something else. He rises up and sees a crow sitting, staring at him from his lower bed post. It squawks at him and flies away. He raises back up, leaves the bed, and walks to the edge of the cell. He looks up and down the corridor and sees no one, including the crow. The Dead Man shakes his head and begins walking back to the bed.
"Psst."
The Dead Man stops.
"Psssssst."
He walks back over to the edge of the cell, next to the cell where he originally heard the noises.
"Hello?"
Hello, my friend.
The Dead Man hesitates.
Whatcha in for?
"In for good, just like everyone here."
Hm. That's not what I heard.
"What'd you hear?"
I heard a certain case of insanity may be your saving grace...
"Who are you? How do you know me?"
We all know you, my friend. You've been the rave for weeks. This is the place they send all the world's trash. If they wanted you dead, that's why they sent you here.
"How could you possible know anything about me? I was the last one here and it's not like they let us go anywhere or do anything."
You, my friend, need to have a little faith.
The Prisoner reaches his hand out holding a small mirror in his hand. He hands it to the Dead Man.
"What's this about?"
Just watch.
"I am reporting live to you from the courthouse in Houston, Texas. "HenBLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPson., also known as the 'Southern Strangler', has just been released from found discrempencies in evidence of the sixteen different murders that spanned across four different states in the southern United St--"
The mirror shuts off like a television. The Dead Man stares at his own reflection for a moment before reaching out with the magic mirror.
"What the fuck was that?!"
A possibility, hmm?
The Dead Man lays back on his bed.
The next day the Dead Man rose from his bed. For some reason the guards were actually letting the inmates leave their cells for a bit and go outside. All of the doors opened at once and the prisoners all walked forward.
The Dead Man notices no one coming for the neighboring cell.
The prisoners are followed outside by several guards carrying shotguns. A few still in their right minds didn't know why they took them out for these 'walks'. They weren't even sure why they fed them. Perhaps it is inhumane to let someone starve to death. Much better to electrocute them until death.
A few days pass by.
The Dead Man is convinced he was dreaming that one night where he spoke to his neighbor and watched a news bulletin of his release. He's already accepted his death and anticipates going with the Lord, yet he still dreams of freedom from this place. A second chance perhaps to prove to GOD even more that he is a changed man inside. That he deserves a place in his Kingdom by his side. The evil has been extinguished from his body and is no more. But, it was just a dream.
Until the phone rings.
The ringer on the phone is so loud that the prisoners can hear it ring from their cells while it sits on a desk in the closed office. It ring for about four times then stops. Then begins ringing again. Inside the office one of the guards is leaning on his chair with his eyes closes, snoring through the loud obnoxious ringing of the telephone. The ringing stops once again.
The door across the hall swings open and the other guard comes rushing out of the bathroom while tucking in his uniform shirt. He rushes into the office and kicks the other guard sleeping ont he job.
"Didn't you hear the phone ringing?"
"Phone?"
"Yeah! Just not anybody calls here! What? You think these guys have anybody calling them? That ringer was loud as hell too!"
The phone begins ringing again.
"Hello?"
........
"No sir, sorry sir."
.........
"It will not happen again sir."
.............
"Wwhat?! I mean, yes sir."
.............
"Right away sir."
The guard hangs up the phone and looks at his parnter, who curioiusly looks back at him.
"Well?"
"Well, the new guy."
"What about him?"
"They saved him."
"What?!"
"Well, not yet, but he's going back on trial. It's a given though. One of the investigators fucked up. They fucked up real bad."
"What the hell happened?"
"Concealing possible evidence during the trial that could've swayed the jury a different direction. Some to prove the fuckin' guy was crazy or something."
"So they're just going to let him go?"
"Nah, probably end up in some 'home' somewhere. someone to monitor him everyday. He seemed like the rubber wall kinda guy. Gives me the creeps, I'm glad he's outta here."
"Yeah, even though I wouldn't mind seeing him gone, I woludlnt' want to throw the switch on that guy."
The transport picked up the Dead Man later that night. He was surprised, but at the same time he wasn't. He forseen this happening. A second chance. A chance to do good and change his ways forever. His dark days were over.
The pouring down rain doesn't make it easy to drive. The water laying on the road seems to wrap itself our the tires and take the car wherever it pleases.
Suddenly, the car whips around and begins spinning uncrollably. It makes three full revolutions before striiking the bank and coming to a abrupt stop. Surprising to see by the Dead Man, the two men in the front seat are unconcious. The Dead Mean kicks out his window and climbs out.
With her arms full, the girl from upstairs opens her driver's side car door and throws the few bags across the seat on the passenger side. She sits down in her seat, starts her vehicle, and fires up the radio. She sits for a moment as she checks herself out in the rearview mirror. As she pulls out from the parking spot from the shopping mall, she notices something shift in her backseat. As she looks back, two huge arms attack her from back there. A thick chain binding the hands of the two arms pull her neck back to the seat and strangle her. She fights and fights until she can't enymore and everything goes white. The Dead Man continues to pull a few extra seconds just to get the normal satisfaction for his kill. He gets out and pushes the body aside. Placing the car in park he reaches over and pulls the lever to open the trunk. He grabs the motionless young woman and carries her to the back of the car, just as a police squad car pulls up behind him. As he drops the woman in the trunk he turns around and faces the two officers. His bright orange suit shines back from the headlights as his arms raise into the air. Whether it was a mistake or no, one of the officers trigger finger slips and places a bullet on the right shoulder of the Dead Man. Well after he fired a shot, the other one did which landed in the Dead Man's neck. Followed by another shot. And another. And another.
The Dead Man lies on his back in the hospital bed. Motionless and assisted breathing.
"They brought a murderer in last night."
One doctor says to another.
"Killed a girl the night he was shot. I hope he doesn't wake up."
Another one says.
The clicking noise of a mans shiny shoes can be heard walking down the corridor. An old man approaches the registration desk.
"It's a little late for visiting hours..."
The nurse looks up at the Old Man.
Oh, pity. I was just dropping in to see an old friend.
"The guy they just brought in tonight? Well, he's right over there. Not much to look at though. He's a vegetable now and will be as long as he keeps breathing."
Perhaps a short goodbye wouldn't hurt?
"Nahh, go ahead."
The Old Man walks past the desk and into the small room where the Dead Man sleeps. He kneels by the bed and watches.
All that praying did you good didn't it, my old friend. Here you sit in your mental prison as your trial in the afterlife awaits. Where I await. You've done well at redeeming yourself during that second chance give to you.
The Old Man reaches up and unplugs the life support machine. Buzzers, beeps, and alarms begin to go off.
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