| "I hereby sentance you to life in prison with no possibility of parole." My life hasn't been the same since the judge said those words. Let me me tell you something -- that is the most sobering experience a person can have. Things had been going so well, too. That old machete of mine had to be resharpened three times because I got so much wear out of it; I mean, it's just no fun to shoot someone. It's so much more satisfying to actually slice through flesh and tendons, and hear that screaming... I love the screaming -- you could almost say I'm addicted to it. Looking back, I suppose that's why I ended up in prison. Anyway, prison isn't nearly as bad as all those movies make it out to be. Admittedly, I did nearly kill someone in the mess hall my first day. A note to current inmates -- don't try to take a murderer's pudding. That turned into my first stint in Solitary... not nearly the last. You could say I was a little bit of a troublemaker; no one ever messed with me once I kicked the hell out of another inmate after he had broken my arm. What, am I supposed to stop fighting just because a little bit of bone's gone through my skin? Please. I was in my twenty-third stint in Solitary when the door opened a bit earlier than it should have. Seeing light after being in darkness for weeks on end is harsh, and it took me a minute or two to realize that the guy who opened the door wasn't the guard. He said his name was Sandalphon, and he had a proposition for me. I told him to go to Hell. I didn't understand why he started laughing until a couple of days later. He said he had a way for me to kill without having any consequences. How do you spell Heaven? Because that sounds like it to me. He said that the catch was that I'd only be allowed to kill evil creatures. Vampires, Zombies, Werewolves -- you know, the bullshit we're supposed to outgrow believing in when we grow up. Believe, motherfuckers. Believe. Last I heard, there weren't any records on me anymore. Somehow, Sandalphon managed to erase all proof of my existence. Almost makes me sad -- all my work gone... Twenty-Six people, and no one will remember that it was me. Oh well. I'll beat my old score yet. |
| //.../End |
| //.../ "26" |