As Jack Morgan lay down on the cold, sterile executioner's table, he took in every detail of his surroundings. The harsh fluorescent lights above him cast a clinical glow, and the air was heavy with the smell of antiseptic. He could feel the chill of the metal against his skin, sending shivers down his spine.
The witnesses, including family members of his victims, prison guards, and officials, lined the viewing area, their eyes fixed on him with a mix of anger, fear, and sadness. Jack took in their expressions with a perverse pleasure, savoring the fear and disgust that emanated from their faces. It fueled him, feeding his twisted desires.
