Click here for nice stories main menu

main menu   |   standard categories   |   authors   |   new stories   |   search   |   links   |   settings   |   author tools


A Spoiled Life (standard:mystery, 2738 words)
Author: DurkAdded: May 06 2002Views/Reads: 3603/2578Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
An innocent man tell his story on Death Row. Sentenced to die for a crime he did not commmit. In the remaining hours of his life the man finally gets the chance to see through all the lies and comes face to face with the person responsible for EVERYTHING.
 



Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

As I approached our home I noticed a black van parked outside the front.
This was most unusual at this hour of night and I did not recall any of 
our neighbours owning one. The front door to our house had been left 
wide open and the flower-plants on the window still had been smashed on 
the floor. This had never happened before. I still did not believe that 
someone could be in the house other than my wife. But then Sarah had 
always been safety conscious and would never do such a stupid thing 
such as this. 

Downstairs looked pretty normal, nothing had been disturbed. The drawers
of my study showed no signs of damage, they had contained small amounts 
of cash. The television and computer had also been left intact. There 
was still no sign of my wife. I called out her name, there was no 
answer. Maybe she hadn't come home and had simply gone off with her 
girlfriends. She did that a lot when we were going through our 
problems. 

How wrong I was. 

As I ascended the stairs I noticed that there was a champagne glass
smashed on the middle step. There were splashes of blood dotted on most 
of the remaining stairs. Panic began to emerge from inside of me. I ran 
for our bedroom following the slight blood trail. Upon entering my 
worst fear was realised. Sarah lay completely silent on the bed. Her 
clothes had been torn. It was obvious to see that she had been raped. 
Her faced looked badly cut and bruised. This person had certainly left 
their mark on her. 

I approached the bed in an effort to examine her but suddenly felt a
stabbing blow to the lower part of my back. I collapsed to the ground. 
As I looked up I stared into the eyes of a youngish man in his late 
teens. There was something evil and sinister about those eyes of his. 
There was no sign of fear in them, no sign of remorse, he didn't seem 
to care about what he had just done. This was not the first time he had 
attempted something like this nor would it be the last. 

He had a small bat concealed in his left hand. Picking me up by the neck
he threw me across the room and against the wall. He was incredibly 
strong but I was filled with anger. How someone could enter my premises 
and attack my wife. For all I knew she could have been dead. 

He approached me and I ran straight for him thrusting my head into his
stomach. We both crashed to the ground and upon impact the bat had 
slipped from his had and was now on the floor unattended. I had the 
advantage now by grabbing it and quickly got to my feet but as I went 
to strike him he kicked me across the side of the ribs. The pain was 
unreal and I fell back to the ground. 

The man stood up and to my horror produced a gun from somewhere. I
expected him to shoot me right away but instead he took aim at my wife 
and pulled the trigger. The bullet tore through her flesh and it 
shattered her chest. She had been killed instantly. 

The man was becoming worried that his presence had been heard by a
passer by quickly made haste and fled the room. As he departed I 
noticed a feature on the mans arm. It was a tattoo of some creature. 
The animal was very decorative and I was unable to make out what it 
could be. He also had dropped the gun on the floor. I was unable to go 
after him. My ribs were in extreme pain and I was sure that they had 
been broken after the attack. 

It was then that I made the biggest mistake I live to regret, even to
this very moment. Picking up the gun in my bruised hand I struggled 
over to the bed. Sarah lay there totally motionless. The covers were 
soaked with blood. 

The police arrived on the scene along with the paramedics who brought me
to hospital where I was diagnosed with four broken ribs, a fractured 
arm and slight concussion. As soon as I regained full consciousness the 
police were very anxious to hear my account of what had happened. I 
explained to them about the man inside my home that had raped my wife. 

This was the first time I met the Commissioner of the Police Department
in the hospital. Chief Irons. At first I thought it was strange that 
the head of the police would be leading the investigation of a crime 
which was not of the highest security threat but looking back on it now 
it make perfect sense. 

He was an extremely angry man; it was easy to spot in the tone of his
voice. You could tell that the officers were clearly fearful of him. 
The ageing affect had taken its toll on the Chief. His mid section was 
no longer as slender as it was in his early years and now hung out over 
his belt. He moved very slowly though that was because he didn't have 
to move quickly for anybody. 

He asked me a lot of questions about the firearm, which bore only my set
of prints, and I tried to tell them that it was a spur of the moment 
action. If it had been a case of rape he said the laboratories had 
discovered no trace of semen. Also there had been no other witness to 
back up my account of the black van, which I'd seen moments before 
entering the house. 

I knew they had begun a background check on my profile before the
questioning as they were up to date with the conflicts in my marriage. 
Four months prior to our first split I had been going through a rough 
patch at work. Continuing problems in work resulted in me becoming 
depressed and developing a drinking problem. In a fierce row with Sarah 
one night I struck her across the face. It was the worst thing I ever 
did to her and she walked out on me the next day. Sarah also had a 
rather large life assurance policy. A very large one at that. She had 
an important job; she was an Assistant Manager for a prestigious 
Software Programming firm. 

As the questions began to go on it was becoming more apparent that the
police would believe me to be the person responsible for the murder of 
Sarah. I sat in the bed and gasped when I discovered that the police 
were convinced I was the sole person responsible for the murder of my 
wife. They claimed I murdered her in cold blood to claim insurance 
money. 

They said I had a history of rows with my wife over the children and
that I tried to take her to court in an attempt to gain custody but 
backed off after receiving advice from my lawyers, I had to admit that 
this was true. And since I would be the sole receiver of almost One 
Million Dollars I could use the money to start over again with my 
children by my side. 

I began to tremble uncontrollably as they continued. I learned that the
gun had been registered in my wife's name even though I told them I was 
unaware she was in possession of such an item. 

They also told me they were aware of the fact that I had left the party
early without giving a reason. My secretary Julie had given a report to 
the police where she stated that she assumed we'd had another row of 
some sort and that my wife had left the premises and I had followed her 
around ninety-five minutes later. 

I repeated my story of the other man with the tattoo but they said they
had checked criminal records and had come up with no match of the 
details I had given them. I explained to them about my injuries but 
they said it was due to my wife protecting herself from me. When it 
came down to the facts my prints were all over the firearm and the 
insurance money I would receive was a big factor. My fate was sealed 
right there and then. Unless this man was caught I would be found 
guilty and sentenced to life imprisonment or worse...death. 

The trail began on the 3rd of August, one of the biggest cases to be
seen in the county that year. It progressed for three weeks and it took 
a jury of six men and women to find me guilty as charged. The judge 
sentenced me to death by lethal injection. As I left the courtroom as 
voice from above in the balcony shouted down “How do you feel now you 
sick bastard!” 

Two years down the road and after three suicide attempts I sit remain
imprisoned. I'm still waiting. Many people have passed my cell and 
walked that journey never to return again. I lie in bed and wonder how 
it feels like to have a toxin injected into your bloodstream. Is it 
painful? How long does it take? 

Today the prison officer handed me some sheets of paper and suggested to
me that I write my confessions and so I sit here now and write. I want 
the world to know that this is the whole truth and nothing but the 
truth so help me God. Why would I lie now? I've nothing to live for. I 
just want rest. I just want to die. 

Last night I got the news from the Chief himself that I will be next to
visit that final destination. It's no big shock. I have been expecting 
this from day one. The worse thing is that I've spent all this time 
waiting. Younger people have come and gone before me. They've not had 
to suffer with this mental burden. 

However nothing could have prepared me for what was to follow. How would
you have felt if somebody had told you it had all been a conspiracy to 
lock you up for the sake of a father trying to protect his bastard son? 


Chief Irons was not alone when he came to visit my cell...No he decided
to bring junior along with him. Almost as a way to kick you when a 
person is at their lowest. A way to say ‘Fuck You, I got away and 
you've rotted in here for me!' At a first glance at this person I 
instantly knew who he was and what he had inflicted on me. 

I had no idea that his father was the Chief and that it had all been on
big pack of lies to get me in here while he got away a free man. 
However looking in to those eyes of the Chief it was like being back in 
my home and looking into those eyes of his son. No come to think of it 
they were worse. A man of his power and stature nothing more than scum 
just like his son. 

I write these last few words while looking at the Chief and his fellow
Officers approach my cell, bringing with them my timely death. With 
this pencil I use now it is my key to happiness. I cannot be saved but 
I will have my revenge. All I need is one chance. With their pistols 
they will draw my blood but I will draw his first...! 


   


Authors appreciate feedback!
Please write to the authors to tell them what you liked or didn't like about the story!
Durk has 2 active stories on this site.
Profile for Durk, incl. all stories
Email: ashrolo@eircom.net

stories in "mystery"   |   all stories by "Durk"  






Nice Stories @ nicestories.com, support email: nice at nicestories dot com
Powered by StoryEngine v1.00 © 2000-2020 - Artware Internet Consultancy