The Condemned

The Judge was stunned by Martin's words. 

"What do you mean its not over. Those four men sealed their fate, condemning them to a punishment so severe that even the possibility of forgiveness was stripped away. Do I need to repeat myself? They had taken you as their example in life. Can you even fathom that? Do you feel not the slightest pang of guilt? If those boys die, their lives will be as meaningless as yours. That is why you must save them, somehow. No matter what they have done, they will never return from the dead. Hanging them serves no purpose," the judge uttered in anguish.

Suddenly, I felt weary. I clutched my chest, leaning against the wall beside me, lost in thought.

"I don't understand what you're talking about. How can I stop their execution?" I asked, utterly confused.

The judge signalled to a guard, who opened the door. Kieran followed him inside as the prison guard brought a glass of water. The judge took it, adjusted his coat, and sat on the bed beside me.

"Martin, you are to be executed tomorrow. You, who have indirectly caused the loss of so many lives, may never truly grasp the value of one. You, who can buy anything, even life itself, will never understand this. But pain, joy, and suffering all shape existence. Life is not a commodity to be traded in the marketplace. No machine, no matter how advanced, can compare to a human soul. It is a tragedy beyond measure that such a precious existence is squandered over a false belief, a fiction you have chosen to embrace.

"At the very least, if four lives can find purpose in our deaths, that is something. As far as I know, you have done nothing for anyone except yourself. That is why I have come—to ask you for one thing. If you make a final statement before your death, claiming that I was the one who inspired those four boys in that unsolved case, then they will be spared. That is all I ask of you."

The judge Nathaniel placed his hand on my shoulder. He remained silent, watching me.

I let out a dry laugh. "What you say is absurd. A person's choice of role models is entirely their own decision. I knew nothing of those boys until you mentioned them. I barely followed Abby's case, only watched snippets on TV. Countless people across the world look up to me. Does that mean I am responsible for every crime committed by those who claim me as their example?

"I have never advised anyone to follow me. Talking to you is a waste of my time. And time is the one thing I no longer have. Right now, time is more valuable to me than life itself. So, leave."

The two exchanged glances.

"Come on, Nate. This bastard doesn't care. We have to abandon the four boys to their fate," Kieran said.

"I will not abandon them. If he refuses to help, I will find another way. I will not let them go down with him." Nathaniel's voice hardened as he looked towards me. "It was a mistake to believe there was any shred of humanity in you, Martin. I have never met a man so cruel in my life. You will not die content, knowing your end came at my hands."

"No one has ever been with me," I replied coldly. "And I won't let you stay either. Judge, I don't know what sense of justice you claim to uphold. And tell your director friend, that my name is not 'bastard'—it is King, Martin King. Perhaps he will understand the truth about me after I am gone."

As the judge and Kieran left, their footsteps echoed in the empty cell. I exhaled slowly, pressing my pen against the paper. My diary was almost complete, yet the words felt meaningless.

*****

"Sir, Danny has been murdered!" A panting officer burst into the room.

Detective Lucas Adams, sipping his tea, suddenly seethed with rage, his grip tightening around the cup before he hurled it to the floor. The crime scene was within the jurisdiction of the Second District Police Department.

Lucas cast a weary glance at the officer who brought the news and said, "God, I'm done with these people. It's as if every week another son is found beaten to death in the slums around fishing village. And every time, someone with powerful connections swoops in to shield the culprits. This is a mess. We're not just keeping order, we're practically babysitting criminals. But this time, if he killed Danny, I suspect a powerful figure might be backing him.

 "The kid has no ties. He's an outsider. Just a nobody," said the officer.

Lucas narrowed his eyes. "Who is he?"

"He is not even fifteen years, sir. He's a complete unknown. He killed Danny in a wrestling match. I saw it with my own eyes."

Lucas detected the fear in the officer's expression. He wasted no time. Gathering four officers, he climbed into a police jeep and sped toward the tournament grounds.

He had dealt with many such cases in his career. Unmarried, still learning to navigate the complexities of law enforcement, Lucas had already earned a reputation for his sharp instincts. Rising to the rank of Detective within just four years, he handled each case with calculated precision, never allowing emotion to cloud his judgment. When he arrived on the scene, the crowd fell silent, their anticipation hanging in the air.

A young man sat atop Danny's motionless body, pummelling him relentlessly. No one knew how long Danny had been dead. Yet, not a single bystander tried to stop the attack. Instead, the onlookers seemed almost... satisfied. As though this nameless boy had done what they never could. As though justice had been served, in its own brutal way.

Lucas signalled his men. The officers sprang into action, dispersing the gathering throng.

A voice rang out. "He did it! He finally did it!"

Lucas approached the body cautiously.

A hand gripped my shoulder from behind as I straddled Danny's lifeless form, my fists still clenched. I spun around instinctively.

That was the first time I ever laid eyes on Detective Lucas Adams.

I couldn't explain the feeling at the time, but the moment I saw him, something shifted within me. As his hand fell upon me, every ounce of rage, frustration, and fury that had burned inside me seemed to dissipate.

"He's been dead for a while," Lucas said calmly. "Taking a life is a crime. You will be sentenced for it. Where are your parents?"

The darkness had fully settled in. The bright headlights from the police jeep bore down on me, blinding me.

"I don't have parents. I never had anyone, until now." My voice was steady, unflinching.

I didn't expect anything from the officer standing in front of me. But from the whispers in the crowd, I learned he was Detective Lucas.

"Don't you have any fear?" Lucas asked.

"I have nothing to lose," I replied.