Hour 15: R.I.P (By Michael Cassera)

John was seated and strapped to the chair. In front of him were the victims of a horrible crime that they believed he committed. But he was innocent, and dumb. His poor decisions throughout the investigation and trial put him in this chair.

There were voices around him, but all he heard was the pounding in his head. All he felt was the wet sponge that was placed on top of his head and the black hood that covered his face. It smelled horrible. He innately knew many people died with this same hood over their heads.

The voices had stopped. Then, he felt it. Millions of electrons pushing through his skull into his brain. At first it felt like a huge burst, but then it seemed to have slowed down, like he could feel every electron passing through his skin, into his body. They flowed down his torso, through his legs and out his feet to the grounding plate below him. It didn’t hurt anymore. All he felt was movement.

Just as quickly as it had started, it stopped. He felt the restraints removed from his arms and legs. Finally, he felt the hood being pulled off his head. His vision was blurred. Someone was in front of him.

“Come on, we have to go!”

The urgency of the command made John get up. John looked around. Everybody was still there, but frozen and like ghosts, everybody except for the stranger who freed him.

The stranger spoke again, “They’re coming…Hurry!”

John finally spoke, “Am I dead?”

“Yes.” was the response. “Now we need to go, unless you want to go to Hell!”


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