Damned for Eternity (3 page)

“And what would everyone like to
drink?”

“Water,” said Crum.

The others took tea.

The silence returned once she’d
left.

The governor finally cleared his
throat. “Well, not to ruin your appetite. It’s best to discuss the
business at hand.”

“I agree,” said Crum. “Let’s get it
out. My husband was chopped like slaughterhouse meat.”

“I understand,” he said. “A heinous
crime. Unspeakable acts within this state. However, as you surely
know, there’s heavy doubt within this case.”

“Well, governor,” she shot back at him.
“Someone has to pay for this. What kind of example would you be
setting? It’s perfectly fine to butcher people?”

“Absolutely not,” his dad shot back.
“But what purpose will it serve to take his life? It definitely
won’t bring your husband back, while the real perpetrator may have
gotten away.”

“It makes perfect sense,” Mrs. Crum
defended. “Let him die and go to hell. And be with those spirits he
serves,” she scoffed.

The food arrived and diffused some of
the tension. The table went quiet for a minute or so.

During that time, the governor never
glanced up from his plate.

“Mrs. Crum, I’m seriously thinking of
having the sentence reduced to life.”

“I want him dead,” she replied, without
even missing a bite of salad.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have a
choice.”

“Like we have a choice when we
vote?”

She smirked at him.

“You don’t realize exactly who you’re
dealing with. My husband was a very wealthy man with connections
that reached all over the state. Those same people in our circle
were responsible for putting you back in office.”

“If I may,” the Pastor then cut in. “So
was the religious community. We don’t condone the death penalty,
but it’ll make you look bad in their eyes too.”

He put down the fork of his bleeding
steak which was really starting to turn Phil’s stomach.

“There’s no place for demonic cults to
exist within the religious order. Especially those whose leaders
may have committed a sacrificial act. There has to be an example
set that true religion should not be tested.”

“We have the right,” Mrs. Crum picked
up. “To petition your reelection sir. We know enough folks between
us two to close the gap and get you out.”

Mrs. Crum took a sip of her water. She
was certain that she had him there.

On their walk to the parking lot, the
governor extracted his cell phone.

“Cindy,” he said, when the receptionist
answered. “Let the people know to cancel my meetings. I’m taking
off the rest of the day.”

He ended the call and passed Phillip
the keys.

“Here, you drive,” he said to
him.

Phillip accepted without a
word.

As they headed home, Phil continued to
take his eyes off the road and threw looks of concern over his
way.

His dad was in deep thought, and he
knew he’d wrestle with this all night.

The next morning, at the office, Phil
was filing papers when his dad walked in.

“Get ready,” he told him.

“Ready for what?”

“To accompany me to a press conference
at noon.”

Phil walked beside him as he went to
the podium, took the stand, and tapped the mic.

He cleared his throat and addressed the
crowd, a mass of flashing lights and reporters. “In recent days,
since re-election, a serious issue has surfaced. The state’s
protested the execution of inmate Mr. Zedbediah Ware. I am here to
say after reviewing the facts, on behalf of the state’s
legislature, I hereby stand behind the decision to Mr. Ware’s
upcoming demise. The execution shall proceed as scheduled. That is
all, good day everybody.”

The crowd expressed a mixture of joy
and shock. The governor quickly vacated the stage. He hurriedly
gestured toward his son, indicating that he follow him.

“You’re a murderer!” one woman
screamed, just as they had closed the door.

“Good job!” said a man knocking on the
window. “I hope that son of a bitch burns in hell.”

The next day, Phil and his father sat
his office as Phil worked on revising a speech.

The phone rang for the millionth time,
disrupting Phillip from his work.

“Poor Cindy,” he said, shaking his
head. “Having to do this all damn day.”

“I can only imagine what they’re
saying. Wishing we were the ones that died.”

Suddenly, they heard her shout, “hold
on. Sir you can’t go in!”

It caused the two to stand to their
feet, especially after she yelled for security.

The door flew open, and a guy barged
in. The governor grabbed his emergency pistol. As he took aim, he
held up his hands.

“Sir, I really didn’t mean to intrude.
But it’s urgent that I speak with you.”

He looked harmless, dressed in a
business suit.

“The man you’re about to kill is my
father. And I swear on my life that he didn’t do it.”

“It’s been decided,” the governor said,
the pistol still aimed just in case. For all he knew he would lunge
at him. However, the guy kept his distance.

“Sir,” he said, tears filling his eyes.
“I tell you, we are a humble people. It would kill me if I lost my
dad. On all I love, he didn’t do it.”

“You need to leave,” the governor
stated. “I’d hate to injure a citizen.”

The man looked away totally defeated
then swiftly, something caught his eyes.

He acutely focused in on Phil and all
of a sudden, started to glow.

“You!” he said with
recognition.

Phillip had the same
flashback.

A hand was coming down on his chest and
when he opened his eyes he saw that face. It was the same dude that
was wearing the robe, the one that’d saved his life that
day.

“Help me please,” he pleaded with Phil
then fell to his knees, the tears pouring.

Security finally flooded in and grabbed
his arms to drag him out.

“Please!” the man tried again. “I
helped you!” he screamed out.

“Get him out of here!” the governor
shouted.

“I helped you!” he repeated, being
pulled away. "I swear to you, if my father dies, your family will
never have peace again. You, Mr. Governor and everyone you love
will be forever damned the moment my father is executed.
"

"Get him out of here," Mr. White
yelled. "I don't tolerate threats, and I don't believe in
magic."

"You don't believe in it now but you
will, and you," he said, pointing at Phil. "I should've left you to
die. Convince your father to spare my father or you will suffer the
most."

"Alright you've said enough," one of
the white security guards said as he punched him in the
mouth.

Blood was all over the hard wood floor
in the office. The security guards continued to hit him as they
dragged him out. Phillip stood there shaking.

"Son, don't let that kook scare you. A
real man has faith in his own abilities. Don't worry about his
empty threats," Mr. White said.

"I never believed in magic either, but
I've seen it firsthand Dad."

"What are you not telling me? What
happened?" Mr. White said, concerned.

Phil explained his near death
experience on the water, the weird chanting, and the ritual that
they performed. He explained how he felt their weird behavior
caused the weather to change, and how his life was saved by the man
that barged in.

"I wish you would've told me this
information earlier son. I don't know if it would've altered my
decision, but I'd definitely consider it. We're not going to let
this make us paranoid. Everything will be fine."

The day had finally come for Zedbediah
Ware to be executed. Every news station imaginable was at the
execution site. There were people cheering, holding up signs
encouraging the execution.

"I hope he burns in hell!"

"Fry the bastard!"

"Kill that devil worshiper!" the people
in the crowd yelled.

Phillip and the Governor were among the
witnesses for the execution. Zedbediah sweated profusely. His chest
rose and fell heavily. He sat strapped tightly to a wooden chair
with numerous electrical wires. The top of his hair was cut bald,
and his scalp was moistened by a wet sponge. A mouth guard was
placed inside his mouth.

"Please don't do this. I'm innocent!"
he yelled.

In the back of Phillip’s mind, all he
could think of was the threat made by Zedbediah's son.

"Dad, I have a bad feeling about
this."

"I do too son, but it has to be
done."

The pastor read him a few scriptures.
After the pastor finished his readings, an officer was signaled by
the warden to administer the shock. Zedbediah's body jerked and
tensed up as the electricity traveled throughout his body. His
teeth clenched the mouth guard hard, causing his mouth to bleed.
His screams were muffled.

"Ok that's enough. Dr., check his
vitals," the warden said.

The doctor moved his stethoscope around
his chest.

"The prisoner is still alive," the
Doctor informed him.

"Continue with the shock," the warden
instructed.

Zedbediah was shocked again, his hand
firmly gripping the arms of the chair. He foamed at the mouth as
the electricity was left on for a longer period the second time
around. His distorted face made many in the audience
squeamish.

"Alright, that should be enough," the
warden said.

The doctor checked his vital signs
again. This time he was certain that Zedbediah was dead.

"The prisoner has passed," the doctor
said.

Suddenly, the lights began to
flicker.

"What's going on Dad?" Phillip
asked.

"There's probably something up with the
wiring in this place. This building is old. The execution probably
caused a short in something."

The lights went completely out. The
audience of the execution started to panic. The lights came back
on. Black smoke started to seep out of Zedbediah's body. A cold
chill was felt in the room, and the observation glass that
separated the audience from the execution, shattered into tiny
pieces.

Later on, at Angie’s pad, she strapped
Phillip’s wrist to the bedposts. Her hands raked through his coarse
hair. Phillip just went through the motions. His mind kept thinking
about the execution.

She mounted him and started to ride. In
his mind, he saw the switch being pulled. His body jerked as the
prisoner’s did as if the shock was passing through him.

Angie soon grew heavy of breath as an
orgasm built inside of her.

She suddenly glanced down
disappointed.

“No fucking way,” she said to
herself.

“What?” asked Phil snapping out of
it.

He too looked down at his dick,
completely flaccid at this point.

“I wanted some of that chocolate stick.
The tootsie roll’s not going to do.”

She collapsed beside him disappointed.
“What’s wrong?” she asked him, rubbing his chest. “You're not still
thinking about that creepy old man? Phillip, he deserved to
die.”

“How can you say some shit like that?
Especially after….”

“His son saved you?” she arched her
fingers for emphasis. “He probably knew who you were that day. Just
his luck, he might be next.”

He glared at her for the very first
time as something more than just a fuck.

“You're a real heartless bitch, you
know that? Who else would do this kind of shit?”

She guffawed at him. “You
mean cheat? Hold up,
brutha
. It takes two. And you’re not
just a cheater either. You’re also a shitty ass best friend, so
don’t be pointing fingers at me.”

She loosened the straps.

“Get out of here. I don’t feel like
spending the night with you. Come over when your dick gets hard. Or
better yet, when you grow some balls.”

Phillip dressed and stormed out,
noticing that his lights were on.

“Shit!” he cried, rushing inside.
“Please please, just start up.”

He smiled when the engine
cranked.

“Good, just a few more
miles.”

Upon approaching his first stop sign,
the entire dash went completely dark.

“No!” he said as he turned the switch,
but all the engine did was cough. “Fuck,” he cried hitting the
horn. “Shit can’t get any worse than this.”

He first tried dialing Angie’s number,
and when his name flashed across the screen, she was very quick to
ignore the call and turned the ringer off.