Things were looking grim.

Outside the decrepit warehouse, police sirens wailed. Red and blue flashing lights lit up the brick wall. The sound of guns being cocked certainly didn't add any sunshine good time feelings, that was for sure.

The scumbag tied to the chair began to struggle. A muffled gurgle sound echoed around the gag in its mouth. Probably saying something along the lines of, ‘help me, help me! This man is insane!’

But did he care? No. Of course he didn't care about this other guy tied to the chair. Why would he? This man was the scum of the earth, better off dead.

“While I would have liked to have a bit more time to chat about those deals you made, I’m afraid I have to get going.” And with that, he stabbed his knife into the man's brain, killing him.

“Put your hands in the air!” A flashlight beam landed on his face, momentarily blinding him.

“Fuck.” He let go of the knife and put his hands into the air. Then came the electricity. He fell to the ground and flopped around as he was tased from behind.

-.–…–.-

“Order in the court. Order in the court!”

The shouting masses calmed, no longer screaming but instead muttering under their breath.

He was standing on a raised platform in the middle of the courtroom, hands and feet cuffed together. In front of him was the judge with his black robe and wooden gavel that he had just set aside after banging it on his desk.

“What is the jury’s verdict?”

The judge gestured to the side at 14 people, all seated together. One of those 14 people stood and gestured at him.

“We find the defendant guilty on all charges.”

There was once again an uproar of noise as people argued with one another.

“Order! Order! Bailiff, take him away!”

He was grabbed by the security guard and escorted out of the courtroom. The two of them walked out into the hallway of the court building and began to make their way back to the holding cells.

The floor and walls were made of some kind of white stone, marble perhaps. Along the sides of the hallway were benches of the same material where other people sat, awaiting their own court time.

One particular woman caught his eye. She was dressed in a lavish fur coat with rings on every single one of her dainty fingers. 

Jewelry bought and paid for by the suffering of others. She was probably here to weasel her way out of incarceration again, blame it on another one of her patsies.

It was just his luck that she was here, and he didn't mean it sarcastically.

“One more before I leave.” He muttered under his breath.

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Reaching into his mouth, he fished around with his finger until he found the razor. He grabbed ahold of it and held it with a closed fist to hide it from the guard.

Just as he passed the woman, he stumbled, faking a cramp.

As fast as a cobra, he struck. His arm whipped forwards, and the razor blade held between his fingers sliced through the woman's throat.

The woman clutched her neck and stared at him with surprise colouring her face, quickly replaced with panic as blood began to spill.

Before he could get up from his fake stumble, he felt a shock on his arm.

He fell to the ground as stiff as a board as electricity surged through his body.

But all the while, he smiled as he saw his handiwork colouring the white floor red.

-.–…–.-

He was once more in handcuffs, walking down a hallway. But this hallway was not pretty white in colour, no. It was dark grey and dingy. It also smelled like shit.

On either side were people in orange jumpsuits, locked behind steel bars. Whenever he passed a cell, the people inside would heckle him.

“Mother fucker!”

“Bitch ass little shit!”

“Shit-ridden little asshole!”

“Piss-trodden donkey ass!”

He had to admit, he had never heard that last one before. What was a piss-trodden donkey ass anyways?

As he stopped in his tracks to ponder the mysteries of piss-trodden donkey asses, he was forced to keep moving by a prod in the back by a baton-wielding guard.

“Ok, ok. No need to get all pushy.” That little comment got him a whack over the head with the baton.

“Shut up and keep moving. Little psycho.”

Heeding the angry guard, he kept walking forwards.

A cell he recognized soon came into view ahead of him, a cell occupied by the big cheese around this prison. Absolute scum!

It was time to do a bit of heckling himself. “Hey, Mr. meatballs in the freezer! How’s the bed smell?”

A mustachioed face made its appearance between the cell bars. “That was you!? Come here you little shit!” 

The man shoved his beefy arms between the bars and tried to grab at him.

He gladly fell into the other man's deathly embrace, holding a shive. He stabbed the big cheese in the stomach and was close enough to hear the gasp of pain come from the other man's mouth. 

The big cheese tried to pull away, but he wasn't having any of that. He trapped the other man's arm in his neck and bit down for added grip. He hopped up and placed his feet against the bars for added power. Then he pulled the big cheese closer and shoved the shive deeper with a twist of his wrist.

But there was a reason this other man was the big cheese, he was tough. The other man pulled his arm back with full force. 

There was a bang as his head impacted the bars, and he fell backwards onto the ground. Blood pooled in his mouth. Spitting a glob of red blood out onto the floor, he noticed a few white teeth among the red.

“For fucks sake! Guards! I need backup.”

There was a shock.

-.–…–.-

“Here we stand today, to witness the death of ^@87FhA%. Do you have any final words?”

Does he? Perhaps.

“Yes, I do.”

The priest bows his head and gestures forwards for him to speak.

“This man is a rapist and I really want to kill him.”

The priest looks back at him with surprise and confusion, then turns to the police in the room and stammers out, “I-I, this man is insane. Well, I’ll be on my way out now.”

The priest pushes past the police and hurries towards the door.

One of the officers questions him, “How do you know?”

“Look up the name Juksly charging. That's his real name. Now pull that mother flipping switch, I’m going out a hero.”

The police look at him with disgust. “You're going out a murderer.”

“Well, different people have different perspectives. I just happen to be the one always in the right. There is no grey in the world, just black and white.”

Then came the shock. It felt terrible. So many volts travelling down his spine, it was pure mind-numbing pain. The last shock of his life.

Or so he thought.