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![]() Chapter XV | |
There comes a time in the life of everyone alive that the realization of your mortality, your finite being will come to an end. It is at that moment of time that you begin to feel your own Death Sentence; the very one placed on you at the very instant of conception. Death follows you, stalks you, and is a constant companion your whole life. Death is very patient, knowing sooner or later, you will embrace its icy touch some day. It is ever near, and ready in an instant to claim you in the event of some mortal accident or incident. Death is no respecter of persons, it cares not how you leave this life, only, that you do. In that instant, death snatches you out of this mortal body, leaving your flesh to cool, taking your soul to the destination you spent your entire life preparing, or, not preparing for. A person hears about death their entire life, and by the time the teenage years arrive, one pretty much knows they are going to die someday. But, with age comes the realization that at some point in your life, you've reached the 'halfway' mark, and you've only half of your life left. The problem of knowing when the halfway mark is, is the same as knowing when you'll die: you don't. But William was certainly feeling the death sentence hanging around his neck, noose or no noose! He shuddered again as the chill of the prospect of dying walked up his back with icy fingers. How could he rid himself of this ever-present feeling of doom? That would certainly be a good trick considering the noose hanging above his head! Why did they always seem to have a noose involved in their dealings with him? The thought came to him after several hours of contemplation: It was simply a mind bending apparatus of the psyche. It was done as a means of breaking him down, taking him to the very bottom of his resistance. Problem is, it was working! William thought about how detached Dr. Kny-pel was at the killing of the smart-aleck rookie. Sure, he had treated William badly ever since they'd met, and had actually hurt him as well. But William sure didn't want to see him die over such a little thing as that! Daman would have certainly been a lot better off had he not responded to Dr. Kny-pel in such a hateful manner. But to die over something as insignificant as that? William suspected this was not the first offense, and this had probably been building up for some time. But it sure put the fear into William! And Siegal as well! From the look on his face, William suspected he was expecting to get the same treatment. And then the thought settled down on William and felt just as strongly as the feeling of the noose around his neck the first time he was in this place. "Had that been me, where would I be now . . ." The fear of the sentence of death now caused chill after chill to run up and down Williams spine. He'd lain down, but now sat up suddenly at the thought of being blown away, or slowly choked to death will the weight of his body tightens the rough noose around his neck. He allowed himself to feel the bite of the course rope into his neck, his frantic kicking, the inability to draw another breath, slowly blacking out, all the while, what life is left in the body kicking, struggling, challenging the hold death has on that body. Finally, he asked the question full out: "If were to die this very night, where would my soul be?" The feeling of loneliness descended down and added much weight to the already heavy weight of the sentence of death he were feeling. He wondered about the vastness of the mystery of death, how little we know of what happens to the soul. He realized he was in dire need of something he'd never ever even considered prior the to the beginning of this plight. He needed it then, and, he needed it now more than ever. What if Dr. Kny-pel ordered his execution like he had Damons? Sure, of course he'd heard of heaven and hell. He just never thought of going to either one. He hadn't considered sin and or the consequences connected with the committing of sin. In fact, he really didn't even know what was and wasn't sin. He wasn't a bad person. Outside a little white lie, he'd never done anything wrong. And God was a merciful God wasn't He? All these thoughts swam around in his head as he tried to justify one action after another. But he was stumped over the hypnotic killings. Was he justified in those killings? Had he done wrong? Was he really guilty of murder? Would God hold him accountable? ![]() What if he gave the Codes up? Would he be held accountable for all the wrong things that could be committed with them? Around and around these thoughts swam in and out of his brain. How could he ever face a perfect God with this much sin and wrong in his life? What happens to the soul when one dies? Does it go to heaven . . . or hell, right away? William finally slept, but not until he prayed a simple prayer of his very own making. He simply said "Lord, if you're really real, please have mercy upon my soul, and help me out of this situation." He woke up to screaming. Someone was in dire trouble, and he covered his ears from it. He hoped it wasn't his Sharon, and he felt guilty for not including her when said his little prayer last night . . . if it was night. He had no idea as to the time frame. But the incessant screaming must have been caused by a woman being either hurt or . . . William refused the thought. Somehow God would see him and Sharon and Melinda through this mess. Just as suddenly as it started, the screaming stopped. He wondered how someone could be so loud and out of control one second, then completely passive the next. As he was standing by the door in the dark, he heard first, footsteps, then the latch being manipulated on his own cell. He was ordered to stand away from the door, and when he'd backed away from the door, it swung open. The same two thugs were there, and both held rifles. Dr. Kny-pel stood behind them, and Siegal standing close. "Okay, come on out of there and make it slow. No sudden movements," one of the thugs said roughly. William just obeyed, never opening his mouth. He didn't want to risk the slightest provocation with Dr. Kny-pel if he was in the same mood as yesterday. "Well," Dr. Kny-pel spoke with a hateful tone. "Are you gonna give up the Cdes or at least tell us where the original disks are? Or do we have to kill your wife this time. Melinda sure fought hard, but I don't think she put up the fight that your wife will." William never thought, he just instantly started forward. Now, he had full revenge on his mind, and he didn't care if he did get shot, he would protect Sharon without a thought for his own safety. He heard the sound of the gun when it went off, heard the bullet whiz by his head, then he caught the first thug with a roundhouse knocking him cold. The other thug was lined up so he couldn't get a shot off, and he caught him in the throat with his elbow. He went down as well. Instantly he turned and lunged for Dr. Kny-pel. Too late he saw the .45 in Dr. Kny-pel's hand, and saw the blossom out the front as the gun spoke. It was a good thing Dr. Kny-pel was not a good shot, nor was he good in a battle such as this. William heard one of the thugs grunt as the slug tore through him. William threw himself to the left to line himself up with Siegal, hoping Dr. Kny-pel would hesitate the mili-second it would take to reach him. But Dr. Kny-pel pointed the gun and it spoke again, just as William reached and knocked the gun barrel away. He had Dr. Kny-pel by the throat, and they were crashing to the ground. He had the gun barrel with the other hand, and it spoke again. Dr. Kny-pel had the look of death on his face, but the look of hatred in his eyes. He was on his knees and on top of Dr. Kny-pel. Bad place for Dr. Kny-pel to be. In the split second of the whole ordeal, Dr. Kny-pel could not utter any intelligible words, but could only scream. Suddenly, what seem like the whole world crashing down on his head hit him, and William crumpled to the ground. Dr. Kny-pel was cursing full out now. He'd nearly gotten strangled by William, had shot one of his own guys who was bleeding profusely now, and he had nearly shot William, his goose that laid the golden egg. Or should have by now. Nonetheless, William had made some nasty marks on his neck, and they were already turning blue. Siegal was not liking what he was getting, and he was getting very tired of this whole mess. He wasn't getting what he was told he would be getting. After seeing Dr. Kny-pel in action these last couple of days, he really didn't think he would get what he was promised either. He figured what he would eventually get would be something very different in the end. He'd already lost two men, and those all because of the explosive temper of Dr. Kny-pel. He could see now how out of control the Dr. really was. He was beginning to think he would be next. Even so, he'd knocked William out with the barrel of his own .45 revolver. Had that gun been any smaller, it might not have done the job. Dr. Kny-pel was now yelling at Siegal. "Shove him back into the cell and lock the door. We'll go ahead with the trial in a couple of hours. And get that corpse out of here." After Siegal had the cell secured again, he grabbed the dead thug by the heels and drug him out of the warehouse. He didn't worry about the smear left, nor the puddle where the body lay. He wasn't in this to play janitor. In fact, he wasn't in this much longer at all! Outside, Dr. Kny-pel was walking back toward the warehouse rubbing his throat. He stopped when he saw the body thrown into the truck by Siegal and the other thug. The other thug was still having difficulty breathing, and was still choking and gagging. "Take him out to mine #36 and toss him." He then looked at Siegal. "Be here with your men at 5, and we'll get the trial over with. You got enough men to do the job?" "Yeah. It's all set up" he responded. "Good, be sure and get the stuff put into his water so he'll be a bit more passive next time we open that door. And put another snake in the cell with Melinda. Let her scream a few seconds, then put it in Sharon's cell. Make em scream! Drug them both as well. This thing will be over by morning. But Dr. Kny-pel had no way of knowing how the tables would be turned against him in the courtroom. Even though he himself would be the judge, and he would be in total control of what ever happened, the tables would be turned in a way he could have never believed would happen had he not seen it himself. But, the dying was over . . . except for one more person. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
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