Eye for an Eye
a short story by
James R. Muri
Copyright, January, 1996
"Eye for an Eye" Law Passed by CongressAmerican Press, 2007
In yesterday's major legislative actions, the long-awaited and much discussed "Eye for an Eye" law was sent to the President for his signature. Sensitive to the mood of the public, he has promised to sign the bill into law as soon as it hits his desk.
The law is the most recent effort by a beleagured Congress to answer constituent's complaints about a legal system gone berserk, where the perpetrators are portrayed as victims and accorded special rights, short sentences, and luxurious treatment during the short times they spend in prison. The notorious multiple murder case recently in Los Angeles, where the handicapped alleged perpetrator killed seven customers in a fast food restaurant but was acquitted because the LAPD had failed to ticket the healthy motorist who had parked in the handicapped parking space, raised the clamor and outcry to such levels that the law was finally brought to a vote.
The law, if signed as promised by the President, will go into effect next year on 1 January, and will require that capital criminals be punished in a way consistent with their crimes. It will also require faster processing of capital cases, and simplify the appeals process.
Leroy picked her carefully. For three weeks he'd watched her leave the hospital after the swing shift, drive to her small house in the suburbs, and eventually go to bed. A couple of times he'd been able to see her through a gap in the curtains, once in her underthings. He'd been in her bedroom while she worked at the hospital, carefully going through the drawers, sniffing and caressing her silky feminine garments, slowly working himself up to tonight, the night she'd be his. He was ready, very ready for her sluttish fucking. She would be his best treat ever, by far the most beautiful tramp he'd ever killed.
She wouldn't be his first, though. No, there'd been - how many? - four, wasn't it? - before her. Four beautiful women, four hateful creatures of lust who deserved only death, but were granted the last grace of receiving his semen, then feeding him, before he removed them from his universe.
There were too many for him to do in one lifetime, he knew. Still, one could only do what one could do, and he'd work on it one at a time. The beautiful ones were the most despicable. Living alone, not having families, wasting their sluttish lives, no good to anyone except for a quick fuck. Far better off, the world was, without their pathetic kind. These women had to go first.
The beatings he gave them just afterward, before he took his meal of their blood and killed them, were very satisfying. He enjoyed the fight, the struggles, the crying, the whimpering and begging. He enjoyed their struggles to live, their efforts to service his avenging cock, to drain him of his anger and hatred as they drained him of his semen. He enjoyed the looks on their faces as they realized it had all been in vain, that they would leave this world debased, his taste in their mouths, their twats foamy with his seed.
He was hard, just remembering. He loved the blood, the poetic final act of merciless revenge. There must be other ways to extract that final price, he thought briefly, then lost that thought as he pictured himself in her, imagined her strength around him as he was filling her, flooding her, heard her screams in his technicolor imagination.
Yes, she would be the best ever. This one was special. He would spend a little extra time with this one. He touched himself, he waited.
At eleven thirty she came out, got into her car. Leroy followed.
Leroy was found guilty. DNA evidence, fingerprints, shoeprints, all conspired to point to him as the perpetrator. Complicating his defense was the testimony of the two police officers who had apprehended him as he was drinking from a cup of her blood. A neighbor had heard the screams, and had called them. The victim was still pumping blood from her wrists, but was alive. She was a complication too, pointing him out to a jury of idiots, stupid clowns unable to comprehend the uselessness of the slut's existence.
Yes, he was found guilty. He was going to prison. But he knew he'd beat this, be out in a couple years at most. Months, more likely, after the appeal was won.
"Guilty of first degree rape," they'd said, "guilty of attempted murder," they'd said. "Fifteen years, remanded to the custody of the State of California, to serve your sentence in the Capital Crimes Facility at San Quentin," the judge had intoned. His gavel banged woodenly, and he could barely keep from smiling.
Out in two years, he predicted to himself, at most.
This whole thing, he remembered, had taken less than a month. He couldn't remember hearing of a quicker investigation, trial, and conviction in California. This should have troubled him, but it didn't.
"A two phase program of correction," the warden had told him. "Phase one is served as an inmate, phase two is a work release program. We are advanced here, and do all we can to make the inmate's stay with us productive and constructive. Every two weeks during Phase I you will be required, with five other prisoners, to participate in our Tension Relief seminars. Since about one-sixth of our inmates are female, one will usually participate in each seminar. These seminars are not monitored, and whatever happens during them is strictly the business of the prisoners."
Leroy thought this sounded promising. He was taken to his cell after this briefing.
Leroy's roommate had certain requirements of Leroy, he said. Leroy should be a good boy and go along. Leroy promised to slice his dick off in his sleep if he heard anything more like that. Leroy's roommate said he had a few friends who'd help him change his mind.
Leroy didn't sleep well at all.
"In here," the guard announced to the five men. Two murders, two rapists, and a child molester. A good representative group of the population of the Capital Crimes Facility. It was their turn to participate in the Tension Relief seminars. Leroy had decided that this might be fun.
"Don't let her get the gun," Murder #1 whispered to him, assuming Leroy knew what he was talking about.
The door opened, and the five men went into a small room. There a guard removed their shackles and instructed them to remove all their clothing. When that was accomplished he opened another door and gestured them into a much larger room. At the same time, across the room, another door was opening.
In the middle of the floor was a handgun. A simple one. The walls were steel plate, as was the ceiling. The floor was padded, faintly stained with what appeared to be blood.
Four men dove for the gun. Across the room a naked woman was also diving for the gun. A shot boomed out, Murderer #2 dropped over, missing most of the top of his head. The other four men piled on the woman, and while three held her, the fourth did whatever he liked. And then they switched. And switched, and switched . . . Eventually they left her laying there unconscious, pale pink semen froth and other fluids oozing from all her orifices, hair glued to her face by clumps of stickiness. The men were too exhausted to continue.
The woman hadn't made a sound.
Altogether a rewarding experience, a drained Leroy felt. The sorry bitch got what all beautiful sluts like her should get. She earned it, knew she had it coming, and had even tried to bite him. She wouldn't do that any more, not after he'd broken out her teeth with the barrel of the handgun.
He looked forward to the next seminar.
He didn't understand yet.
The woman - a different one from last time - got to the gun first again. A shot rang out, and her face disappeared. She'd shot herself to death. Leroy looked at the gun. The gun was only good for one shot. Cheated, disappointed, the five men buzzed themselves out.
"Too bad, boys," the guard said with a shake of the head. "It was her ninth time, though. She lasted longer than most."
Leroy got to the gun first this time, kicked it over to the edge of the mat.
The terror in her eyes showed she knew what was coming. Leroy smiled.
He was beginning to understand, he thought. Capital crimes, capital punishment being administered by the inmates.
Not bad, he'd decided. But he still didn't really understand.
The woman was fun, strong, tough, fighting and struggling until the four of them had clubbed her into submission, into acceptance. She made no sound as they enjoyed her.
They left her there, filled and covered with two week's supply of semen. And bleeding, and bruised, and dead. Leroy had retrieved the gun from the edge of the padded floor where it had been kicked, and had shot her in the head when they were finished with her. Just like she'd expected.
I could get to enjoy this, Leroy thought as he dropped the smoking pistol.
He never wondered what capital crimes these women were being punished for.
They buzzed themselves out.
A year now, Leroy thought. I've killed three more women, five scumbag men, and survived. Now they're taking me to a Phase 2 facility, to begin my work release.
This is a terrific program! Maybe I'll be out in less than fourteen years!
Getting into the van was the last thing he remembered for three months.
He tried to talk, couldn't. He couldn't say anything, made only gasping sounds. No voice.
He'd never sing again, he thought confusedly. What's happened to me?
They took off the bandages that afternoon.
"Very nice," the doctors agreed, grinning. "One of the best yet."
"We exercised you a lot while you were - recovering," one of them told him. "You're strong, the surgery was a success. You'll be fine." The doctors glanced at each other, smothered smiles. "Sorry about your vocal cords. Part of the restructuring process, though."
The nurse let him up later to go to the bathroom. He was dizzy, but made it. And looked in the mirror. At a woman. Pretty, with nice breasts, nice shape - his cock was gone! He felt himself -
A slut! A beautiful slut!
Leroy stood in a small room, nude. Leroy looked down at herself, at the beautiful slut's body beneath her chin. The terror ripped through her, its stench filling the air. There was a door. A green light went on above it, then it swung open. Leroy stepped into the steel walled room.
Across the padded floor, five men were also coming into the steel walled room. They dove for the gun. Leroy dove for it too.
She didn't get there first.
She tried to scream, could make no sound. She tried to tell them she was a man.
But she could make no sound. Then it didn't matter.
The three murderers and two rapists were very entertained.
Afterward she was rescheduled for the next day's four P.M. Tension Relief Seminar.
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