He had a license to kill. He even got it printed and framed.
That sheet of paper was his emancipation. With time, it had replaced his Gods. Well, Gods guarantee hell for killing; but this one lets you skip it. Not a hard choice to make for an executioner.
But he couldn't care less anyway, anymore. It was all coming to an end. "This is going to be my last one".
He was grinning and humming silently. But he realized how perverse it looked and stopped himself. He still smiled though, as he pulled the strap through the buckle and fastened it securely. "No more murders for me, thank you". He could barely contain his excitement.
He connected the wire in the socket and checked the voltages.
He threw the switch. Freedom at last! And then, as the current started flowing through the body, he convoluted violently. In about ten seconds, he was dead.
When they found him next morning, a sheet of paper had to be pried out of his hand. It was a rejection letter to his euthanasia appeal.
PS: Heavily inspired from a friend’s short story.
