Lying on his bed, in the confines of his four-by-four cell, Dave stared at the ceiling blankly.
I am about to be executed in a few minutes. Should I not be panicking right now? He thought. I should be, right?
He had understood long ago that his inability to feel emotions would land him in trouble one day. But never had he imagined that he would be executed because of it. As he sat in his cell, awaiting his end, he was certain that it was his accursed trait that had sealed his faith.
Dave cannot feel happiness, sadness, empathy, or any other emotion. In essence, he was a robot, observing the world through his purely logical lens. Early on, he realized that his trait would make him incompatible with society. So, he learned to mimic emotions to blend in, knowing survival required the facade.
A knock on his cell doors interrupted his thoughts.
"And here I thought you guys forgot about me," he said while pushing himself up. He faced the wall with his hands in the air.
The guards entered, armed in full body gear. They cuffed his legs and arms. Made him sit in a wheelchair, cuffing him to the chair, and then wheeling him out.
As Dave came out, he was greeted by the warden of the prison, Trevor Philips, a balding white old man, with an angry face, "Ready to meet your maker Davey?"
"Ready sir," he said. Usually, it was in his public code of conduct to always smile in anyone's company, but he figured that he was about to die in a few minutes. He can now leave the facade behind.
"Let go boys," the warden said and the guards started pushing him.
"So what took you guys so long? The delay made me think that the government decided to hand me a pardon,"
The warden chuckled, "You are a serial killer Davey. Your vigilantism took the lives of 259 people that we know of. There was no way in hell that you were getting a pardon,"
"You know the guys that I killed are all criminals, right? I mean I am like Batman, minus the bat suit and no killing rule," It was true, he might not be a billionaire, but he was a multi-millionaire. His intellect and Masters from MIT helped him to make cool stuff for himself and for the world. And he was very deadly when it came to Muay Thai as well.
The warden passed him a smile, "My wife is alive because of the charitable foundation that you established Dave. No one would forget what good things you did with your money. But that doesn't mean that you can roam around killing criminals and taking the law into your own hands. There is law and order for that,"
The poor lad, he truly believes in the justice system, he thought. As a member of the elite society of the world, he knew better. He knew, exactly to whom the justice system served.
"Sure buddy," he said with sarcasm, making the warden roll his eyes. The remainder of the journey passed in silence.
Soon they reached the execution room, with the electric chair now in his sights, he still remained calm, not a tinge of fear or doubt in his mind.
The guards uncuffed him and then strapped him to the electric chair. Before him was a tinted glass, which he realized was a two-way glass. He was sure that behind the glass was a swarm of journalists, his lawyer, and maybe the family members of the people that he killed, maybe.
32 years old, and being executed. He thought. I wonder, if I got a second chance, would my fate be the same? I wonder if I would be able to kill the monster in me.
Dave was a self-made man. Got his master's when he was just 16, and since then he only moved up the ladder of the world. And this is how the world knew him, the multi-millionaire tech genius who changed the way that communication networks worked.
From what he had heard on the news and newspapers, most people believe that he had done all those bad things because of some moral compass. People think that he was acting as a vigilante, whose purpose was to make this world a better place. But no one knew the truth, he never revealed it to anyone. Because it was far worse than anyone could imagine.
He killed because he liked it.
The thrill of evading police looking for him, also creating fear and chaos through his murderous persona made him feel excited. And for a person who cannot feel any emotion, this was just too addictive to let go.
His first kill was when he was 16, he butchered a man from his dorm. The atmosphere of fear and chaos that he created that day, awaken something in him. And that thing has been guiding his every action since then.
Of course, police were not able to even connect him with murder. And even now, they have still not connected him to that murder.
He knew that what he was doing was wrong. It was unethical. But he was hooked on the thrill, he just wanted it more and more, not caring about the consequences.
Countless times he tried satisfying his thrill with other activities. But nothing worked. In the end, he made peace that this was who he truly was. No one could change that. So he started targeting criminals, thinking if his truth came out then his people would be able to spin the whole tale as an act of vigilantism.
I wonder whether my inability to feel emotion was the reason that I became like this. I wonder if I did have emotions.. Would that have changed anything? He thought as the executioner made him wear the hat that would deliver the shock. He noticed that the executioner didnt put a wet sponge on his head.
Oh, it looks like someone hates my guts. He thought. A wet sponge makes sure that the person being executed doesn't get cooked inside out. And no sponge means a very painful death.
He didnt say anything about the sponge and accepted his faith.
The current was turned on.
He felt that his whole body was burning from the inside out, but he endured it. This was his punishment, and he gladly accepted it.