At the End you Remember the Beginning

At the End you Remember the Beginning

Status: Finished

Genre: Literary Fiction

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Literary Fiction

Summary

Before being executed, an unrepentant convict reminisces on what started him toward this end.

Summary

Before being executed, an unrepentant convict reminisces on what started him toward this end.

Content

Submitted: December 12, 2012

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Content

Submitted: December 12, 2012

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My world has been grey for the last ten years.  Grey walls, grey bars, grey uniforms with darker grey numbers printed on them.  Even my skin looks grey.  I guess that's because I only get to see sunlight for a few hours a week.  I've been rotting away in this fucking prison for so long that I'm actually excited to be executed tomorrow.  I have an early morning date with lethal injection; it's too bad they don't use the electric chair anymore, I bet that woulda been a hell of a ride.
Tonight a priest came into my cell.  He asked if there were any sins that I wanted absolved.  I told him my sins are my trophies, they are my greatest achievements, and I'd be happy to add him to my list.  It took three guards to pull me off him, I didn't get to kill him, but I betchya he's wishing I did right now.  I wanted to rip off his jaw.  I grabbed his mandible and started yanking and twisting.  I felt some popping and ripping, but they dragged him out with his jaw still clinging to the rest of his face.
I wasn't always violent.  Once upon a time I was even a pretty nice guy.  I had friends and a family and a pretty average life, but I guess we all have that switch in us that'll change everything.  Once mine was switched on, there was no switching it off.  

 

The first time I ever killed is a bit of a story.  In order to understand why I did what I did, you have to hear the whole thing, so sit down and shut up.  

I used to have a friend named Bill.  I met Bill at a court mandated sex addicts anonymous meeting.  I had to attend three meetings every month for a year after I was caught fucking a hooker in a church; don't ask me why, it's just what turned me on at the time.  Bill was the only guy there who I felt was more fucked up than me.  He was caught jerking off while watching Toy Story in the theater.  Dozens of children trying to enjoy the fantasy world that Pixar and Disney created for them, and there was Bill, front and center using the cheese from the theaters nachos as lube.  In order to not be charged as a pedophile he claimed to suffer from compulsory masturbation disorder, and was placed on probation and forced to come to meetings.  
Bill and I would go out on the town, get blackout drunk and then go pick up a hooker to double team.  Sometimes we would pay them to shove trash from a dumpster into their snatch.  No matter how many times you see it, it is always fun watching a girl lose her dignity to soy sauce stained noodles as she crams as many as she can into herself for forty extra bucks.  Bill and I would also fuck around with each other sometimes, not in a gay way but practical jokes.  Ya know, like I'd buy him a hooker who would start off by blowing him, but when he goes to fuck her he finds out she's a tranny.  Or he'll buy me a BJ, but pay the girl extra to spit my spooge back in my face after I cum in her mouth.  He thought it was hilarious to watch me beat the shit out of the slut while covered in cum and spit.
One day he calls me up and tells me about an S&M place he found out about.  Says there are just naked bitches chained up and put in stockades and shit, and that anyone can just go in and fuck them.  You bet your ass I made him take me there that night.  I paid my admission and walked into the S&M Wonderland.  It was everything he said, there were women tied to walls, whips and paddles available for rougher play, even a series of glory-holes along the wall for that anonymous finish.  Bill told me that there was a special room in the back though, something he rented out specifically for me.
He led the way to a small dark private room where right in the middle was a naked woman with her head and arms firmly secured in a stockade.  She was wearing a leather mask with the eye slits zipped shut, but the mouth was unzipped and her jaws were pried open with some plastic contraption that was made for skull-fucking.  There were all sorts of toys on the walls, and I got right to work.  I grabbed the biggest dildo I saw and jammed it into her mouth to get it lubed up.  When it was properly sloppy, I walked around her and slid the entire eleven inches of it into her asshole.  Her legs kicked as it was going in, but there was nothing she could do to stop it.  I caned her thighs until they had bright red welts on them, and then I started fucking her as hard as I could manage.  Bill was cracking up in the corner this whole time, so I told him to make himself useful and hump her face.  He knew the drill, and he slammed his dick down her throat harder than I've ever seen him go before.  I wasn't going to be outdone, so I started manipulating the dildo in her ass along with the rhythm I had going so she had every hole getting fucked equally as hard.  Bill  came in her mouth pretty quickly, but when I felt my balls getting tight I pulled out, ran back up to her face, unzipped one of her eye slots, and blew my load right into her dilated pupil.  She screamed in pain as much as she could with the plastic contraption in her mouth, and her entire body writhed in the stocks.  I laughed as I re-zipped the eye slot, and gave Bill a high-five.  We left there and got shit faced at a bar nearby, Bill kept laughing like a maniac that night.  Thinking about it now, I wish I could rip out his throat again.
The next morning I was woken up by a call from my mother's insurance agency.  She was in the hospital.  I was pretty hungover, but I was able to understand the agent telling me that they think my mother was drugged and raped.  She was admitted with severe anal hemorrhaging, and she had corneal damage from where semen was shot in her eye.  I was informed that they were running tests on the semen recovered, and if the perpetrator was in the system, they would nail the bastard.  The image of Bill laughing as he watched me ram my cock into that tied up bitch popped into my head, the fucker set the whole thing up.  Tell me that you wouldn't blow a fucking fuse and I'll call you a fucking liar.
I drove to Bill's house, my head throbbing the entire way.  I checked the doorknob when I got there, the drunk fuck left it unlocked.  He was passed out in his boxers, and when I saw him some beast inside me broke off it's leash.  I can't remember much, I remember clawing at him and biting like a wild animal.  I remember him screaming and struggling, giving me more fuel.  When it was all over Bill was dead, his head was bashed in and his throat was ripped out.  Blood covered my chin, my fists and my chest.  There was no covering this up now. 
I washed up in Bill's bathroom and changed into some of Bill's clothes.  I left him there to marinate in his own blood, to be found by some pimp coming to collect money, or a nosey neighbor with a sensitive nose.  I headed for the hospital.  I was in the system, you see, and they were running tests on my sperm.  My mom couldn't find out it was me, what caring son could ever let their mother learn something like that?  When I got there I found her in a private room, not much bigger than the one I raped her in the night before.  She was asleep, and thankfully not hooked up to any heart monitors.  I smothered her with her pillow, and it was easy.  I had no tears, no second thoughts.  This had to be done, how else could you possibly handle this situation?  It was necessity, but at the same time it felt good.  Knowing that on the other side of that pillow, a life was being extinguished.  I went into that hospital to do my duty as a son, but I came out as a man with a new calling.  My mom always used to say, 'find something you like to do, and be the best at it'.  Well, that's what I did.  I drove straight from the hospital to the next state, assumed a new identity, and began a long and decorated career killing the most innocent people I could find.  That is until ten years ago when they caught me and locked me up in this hellhole.  I was only able to kill three people in here before they put me in solitary.  It's a shame, when I look back at all that wasted time and think of all of the people I could have killed.  
Tomorrow someone gets to stick a needle in my arm and do me in.  I just hope it gives them the same satisfaction it gave me to kill, maybe my death can inspire them to continue my work.  What a beautiful thought.


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