“It sucks being gagged…doesn’t it?” I asked my old friend as I pulled the zip ties tight around his arms and chest.
“I told you when we last saw each other you would die a death befitting a child murderer”
“Mmmmmm…mmmmm…mmmmm”
“Awwww…does that hurt?” I patronized, as I set the meat hooks under his arm pits and raised him into the air with the hoist.
I lowered him into the hole that I had prepared a year earlier with the news of his potential parole. When his head was down to eye level I raised it with the knuckle of my curled finger under his chin.
“Try to block out the memory of murdering my daughter while your burning alive and know that this hole is 15 feet deep and also, no one will ever find your body”
I lowered my old friend down until his head was at the top of the hole; I removed the gag and cut the rope. I emptied the can of gas, dropped the match and enjoyed his agony.
I laid my head on the pillow later that evening and enjoyed the first night of sleep without a nightmare in 25 years.
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