The two men sat in the middle of the cold, dark interrogation room, one a Human and the other a Weequay. They were both male, they were both criminals. Both men had done various crimes. Now they sat here waiting to hear their fate.
The door to the room slid open. Through them came an old grotesquely-thin man whose face was shadowed by the years of revealing the fate's of criminals.
"We have determined your fate," the man exclaimed, wasting no time in greeting," you are guilty of many crimes".
An audible groan.
The man continued. "You have been granted the fortune of choosing your punishment. You can either be executed, or spend life in prison".
"Life in prison," groaned the criminal on the left, the Weequay," better to live somehow than not at all". He was satisfied by his choice.
"Execution," quoth the other criminal, taller and of thinner build than the other, a Human," better to die quickly than have the life slowly drained out of you in prison".
The thin, old man smiled, a diabolical look that could melt the desires of many. "Your choices have been made. There is one thing I can assure you, however. You will regret your choice"...
24 hours later
They always said you should hold still when being executed by the firing squad. Ten shots to the chest would be much quicker than five shots to various parts of the body.
The room was cold, damp, dark, somber. Ten men armed with blaster rifles stood in front of the criminal.
"Ready", shouted the Sargeant.
The firing squad aimed their blasters at the man in exaggerated unison.
The criminal envied the other man who had chosen to spend life in jail. The Weequay would live. In jail, yes, but he would live. This man did not have the fortune, or was it a fortune?
"Aim"!
The men of the firing squad placed their fingers on their triggers.
Normally, a man's life would have flashed before their eyes. Yet this man never had a life worth remembering. His mind went blank.
"Why had I been so foolish and asked to be executed," was the only thing the man managed to think.
"Fire"!
Hold still.
43 years later
The Weequay lay on the floor of his dark, cold prison cell, staring at the ceiling. His chest rose up and down, very slowly. He know he was dying. His time in this miserable prison would soon be over.
"Why did I not just get it over with," the Weequay asked himself.
He closed his eyes and thought about the choice he had made many years before. Why did he choose to make himself suffer in prison. Yes, he wasn't dead, but he couldn't call himself alive either.
He opened his eyes and let a tear roll down his skeletal, pale face.
"Why had I been so short-sighted in thought".
He vomited on the floor next to himself, and closed his eyes one final time.
Netherworld of the Force
The Weequay awoke to find himself staring at a rock. Atop this rock sat the Human he had known so many years before, sobbing. The Weequay rose to his feet and stared the man in the eye.
"You", they both shouted. Their eyes were filled with rage, rage over the apparent fortune of the other.
"You lucky man. You got to live," barked the Human.
"You have no idea how miserable I was in that cell," the Weequay shot back.
"You have no idea how miserable I am up here. You at least have something more to take with you to the grave".
"I have nothing to take with me"!
"Better to live somehow than not at all".
"Living in a jail in not living. The life is slowing squeezed out of you. Execution is quick".
Both men pulled back their fists, ready to pound the other's face.
"Enough," shouted a voice.
Both men turned their head to find themselves staring at the thin man who had revealed their fates to them so many years ago.
He laughed. "I was right. You both did regret your choice," said the man in a wicked tone," Isn't it ironic how a man who has been executed wishes to live, yes a man who has been put in jail for life wishes to die. In truth, both choices bring you death, in their own way"...
The End
The door to the room slid open. Through them came an old grotesquely-thin man whose face was shadowed by the years of revealing the fate's of criminals.
"We have determined your fate," the man exclaimed, wasting no time in greeting," you are guilty of many crimes".
An audible groan.
The man continued. "You have been granted the fortune of choosing your punishment. You can either be executed, or spend life in prison".
"Life in prison," groaned the criminal on the left, the Weequay," better to live somehow than not at all". He was satisfied by his choice.
"Execution," quoth the other criminal, taller and of thinner build than the other, a Human," better to die quickly than have the life slowly drained out of you in prison".
The thin, old man smiled, a diabolical look that could melt the desires of many. "Your choices have been made. There is one thing I can assure you, however. You will regret your choice"...
24 hours later
They always said you should hold still when being executed by the firing squad. Ten shots to the chest would be much quicker than five shots to various parts of the body.
The room was cold, damp, dark, somber. Ten men armed with blaster rifles stood in front of the criminal.
"Ready", shouted the Sargeant.
The firing squad aimed their blasters at the man in exaggerated unison.
The criminal envied the other man who had chosen to spend life in jail. The Weequay would live. In jail, yes, but he would live. This man did not have the fortune, or was it a fortune?
"Aim"!
The men of the firing squad placed their fingers on their triggers.
Normally, a man's life would have flashed before their eyes. Yet this man never had a life worth remembering. His mind went blank.
"Why had I been so foolish and asked to be executed," was the only thing the man managed to think.
"Fire"!
Hold still.
43 years later
The Weequay lay on the floor of his dark, cold prison cell, staring at the ceiling. His chest rose up and down, very slowly. He know he was dying. His time in this miserable prison would soon be over.
"Why did I not just get it over with," the Weequay asked himself.
He closed his eyes and thought about the choice he had made many years before. Why did he choose to make himself suffer in prison. Yes, he wasn't dead, but he couldn't call himself alive either.
He opened his eyes and let a tear roll down his skeletal, pale face.
"Why had I been so short-sighted in thought".
He vomited on the floor next to himself, and closed his eyes one final time.
Netherworld of the Force
The Weequay awoke to find himself staring at a rock. Atop this rock sat the Human he had known so many years before, sobbing. The Weequay rose to his feet and stared the man in the eye.
"You", they both shouted. Their eyes were filled with rage, rage over the apparent fortune of the other.
"You lucky man. You got to live," barked the Human.
"You have no idea how miserable I was in that cell," the Weequay shot back.
"You have no idea how miserable I am up here. You at least have something more to take with you to the grave".
"I have nothing to take with me"!
"Better to live somehow than not at all".
"Living in a jail in not living. The life is slowing squeezed out of you. Execution is quick".
Both men pulled back their fists, ready to pound the other's face.
"Enough," shouted a voice.
Both men turned their head to find themselves staring at the thin man who had revealed their fates to them so many years ago.
He laughed. "I was right. You both did regret your choice," said the man in a wicked tone," Isn't it ironic how a man who has been executed wishes to live, yes a man who has been put in jail for life wishes to die. In truth, both choices bring you death, in their own way"...
The End
Last edited by EVANTHETOON on Mon Oct 04, 2010 11:06 am; edited 1 time in total
