Worse than Death
Worse than Death penalty stories
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malvaiseuf
malvaiseuf think of yourself first and foremost
Autoplay OFF   •   6 months ago
One man's lash is another man's saviour.

Worse than Death

I'd swallowed a capsule and downed it with coffee. My attaché burst in, smiling large and lofty.

He held a loudspeaker in which he said those words: "Attention, everyone! Look up, you busy nerds! I bring terrific news: it is done; we have won!

Henceforth, throughout our land, the death penalty's gone!" We were registering what we had just been told.

The herald held as proof a daily which had sold thrice the routine amount on that very morning,

in which it was confirmed there would be no mourning of felons anymore: prison for life was what they would get tops instead, however grim the glut.

My colleagues all cheered on: they broke out the blowers, the special day muffins, the wine, and the glowers. I chose to smile with them, to laugh high and hearty.

'Twas a shame I would not outlive long the party. I had judged my deed done. It was secure enough not to become undone by conservative guff.

As a young lad I'd seen my parents' indoers at the end of a rope, as all found death dealers. Methought their agony was quite insufficient.

A life's time behind bars was much more perficient as proper punishment for the worst of mankind.

Thence had I set a goal, only one, in my mind: confiscate death's release from those who deserved pain; have not one wrongdoer without a conscious brain.

Many an associate had I to sacrifice to ensure absolute retribution for vice.

The denunciations - anonymous letters - were piling at my door,

their daredevil senders demanding cash I lacked lest my forfeits revealed to the public at large and those who power yield to send a man away in harsh isolation that

his lonesome torment avenge the hurt nation.

In senses, I was glad: a couple days later, I may have been found and recognised a traitor,

everything I stood for made quite incredible and my proposals thus judged unpalatable.

As breathing grew harder and my legs, limbs, stiffer, I made back for my desk, its turned-on computer,

and dismissed everyone, told them to make merry wherever it pleased them, to live happy,

marry. They did in an uproar and begged me to join them. I told them to wait up with my remaining phlegm;

that I'd be with them soon; "go", "shoo", "scram", "go ahead".

The moment the door closed, on the desk, I dropped fled.

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