It's funny. There is s strange emotion flooding through me at this moment in time, is it guilt? Is it shock? Don't be so stupid. I think it's nerves. I think I'm nervous about dying.
It's all down to that stupid woman; Mia Fey. Her and her mind, her and her stupid little objections to everything I said. Terry helped me the first time to escape, and it was her fault for getting me convicted since she knew my true personality. That helped her... I guess.
I was being led into a plain white room, with several windows looking onto a bed like table; with straps to hold the criminal in. I couldn't imagine how many other criminals died here, because I could feel a presence, more than one, hundreds.
I sighed as the prison guard directed me to the table, and another guard gestured for me to lie down on this bed or table. I fluttered my eyelashes and I lay down, and he strapped me in, with belt like straps. He did it tight as tight can be, which was slightly painful, I coughed to show that it hurt, but they didn't care. They turned a blind eye to me. I looked where family members would be sitting, but there were none. As a desperate attempt, I asked the guard something. "Why isn't Mommy and Daddy here?" I asked with my usual lisp. That belonged to my other personality, my true personality, was as the judge called me: 'Evil'.
The guard looked at me strangely, as if he wanted to let me go, but he couldn't and gave me a weak smile to reassure me, that everything would be fine, everything would be absolutely brilliant.
Of course it bloody well wouldn't be, I was going to die.
I saw him as he walked away, he was going to put the injection in the shiny metal arm a little bit away from me, programmed to kill me; programmed to take lives. It was almost as ruthless as me, and that's pretty... well, hard.
As the officer put the injection in the arm. He shuffled over to the over officer keeping an eye on me and both of them together pulled it over, and placed the point of the needle a few centimetres away from my upper arm. He looked at me again before he sealed my fate, "S-sir?" I asked, faking it again, "W-will it hu-hurt?" I even made myself cry, just to escape the worst prison of all; death.
As a reply, he shook his head. He had obviously been trained to not to talk to criminals, but I saw his face, he wanted to talk. To him I was as innocent as a three year old child. He didn't know of my 'crimes', they were a pitiful reason to be executed in these conditions anyway. I had been on death row for, five, six years? I lost count of how long. My surroundings became such a bore, and I swore to myself I would want revenge, beyond the grave my revenge on Ms Fey is what I crave, what I want. I expect someone will realize that, and form a plan.
The officer pressed a button. I suddenly felt the needle puncture my arm, and the deadly toxins injected into my little body. My eyesight faded, and I was slipping away.
I craved life, I wanted to be alive, but I was dying.
There was no pain, no, but I swore my revenge on the Feys.