The Joyful Soul

The sound rang out, deafening in the silence of the wide room.

The funny thing about this is how time seems to stop. Kind of relaxing. It isn’t the first time it has happened, and so it feels almost…nostalgic.

I haven’t tasted it yet, death itself.

But I have faced it. Many times.

Let me track back. Give some context.

I was 5 years old…

Nope. Not that far.

I stared at the item in my hand, glowing in the dark room.

Perfect. Let’s start there.

I stared at the glowing item in my hand.

 It was my goal for…2 weeks. 

I get things done quickly. 

I walked out of the room, the 2 guards passed out behind me. I went through the corridors to where I remembered the staircase was. 

Right, Left, Right, Right, Left, Right, Left

I reached the emergency exit, where the disabled alarm lay broken in pieces. Not my cleanest work, but it’s fine.

I pushed open the door and walked up the stairs. 

So far, everything is going to plan. 

I went up the staircase; 3 flights to the top floor.

I opened the door, and the plan was very close to being completed. 

The plan for the salvation of humanity from its own kind.

But when I opened the door to the top floor, a sound rang out in the dark hallway. 

“HEY!”

I swirled to find a guard. Which’s surprising, given I neutralized all of the ones on this floor. 

He was young, barely older than 18, a new intern. I must’ve missed him in my plans. He took out his radio, starting to babble about an intruder. 

I am clearly getting too old. I should look into a vacation or something after this. 

Yeesh.

I shot the guard in the chest, and moved to the room with the hole in the ceiling. I knew more guards would be coming soon.

Sure enough, I heard the sound of storming feet. I found the room, threw my hook up, and started to climb. 

I reached the roof and walked to the edge. 

I was getting close.

Ever so close.

A couple more steps. 

Almost there…

The baton came out of nowhere. 

I fell to the ground, stars blurring my vision.  

A boot stomped my face. 

There goes that vacation.

It was always the villainous government standing in the way of happiness.

20 years ago I saw the light. I was free.

I vowed to fight them and bring joy to everyone. Bring order to the chaos. 

This item was part of that plan, the  key component to their network and communication infrastructure. It would bring chaos to them, and allow me to spread the Joy I oh so wanted to share.

Through my blurry vision, I could see the group of guards huddling around me. One started talking on his radio phone to the police station, indicating their capture of me: a Level 4 threat. For the crime of bringing Joy…

The guards eyed me warily, some outright petrified.

A helicopter landed on the roof. I was shoved in, and it began to ascend. 

Out of nowhere, a needle injected a burning liquid into my neck.

In my last moments of consciousness, I saw him staring me in the eyes with a look of pure hatred.

I awoke to the sound of metal clanging. 

I get up groggily, and take in my surroundings. 

Oh, so it’s the usual. 

3 walls, metal bars, and shackles on my hands and feet. And an orange jumpsuit.

Yuck, they changed me? Nasty.

I wasn’t worried. It’s time to get out. I started to manipulate the cheap locks they have, but upon closer inspection, I found this different from what I was used to. 

These were high-quality. Harder to crack.

I quickly realized the impossibility of escape with the titanium walls, graphene shackles, and closely spaced bars that can’t fit a finger.

It seemed he knew the same thing because when he walked in, he was wearing a smile. 

“You officials, always stopping the Joy," I say.

“You’re a murderer, Marc.” The Sergeant spat.

“I do it for the people’s Joy!”

“ You do it for the chaos! Today, I'll escort you to the courtroom personally. No escape."

And no escaping it was. 1 hour later, I’m sitting in the courtroom surrounded by guards, a large audience behind me. Clearly, they all wanted my downfall. 

And for what? I was bringing them Joy. I was bringing society happiness.

Pure bliss.

Yet they all looked at me with disgust and fear. Total, undeniable, fear. 

The judge called for order in the court and started.

It was a facade of a trial. No lawyer, just a prosecutor. It ended up being merely a reading of my charges. I sat through it with a smile on my face. 

70 charges of manslaughter and 20 cases of aggravated robbery.

Didn’t I say I was trying to give everyone happiness? That’s what I am doing! 

I was given the death penalty. 

So I responded in the only way I knew : 

Laughter

A maniacal, deep, sound that came from my soul. It echoed through the room, and people got uneasy. I was doing this for them, and what do I get? 

Death.

How ironic.

How Joyful.

I was lifted and shoved into the car that would take me to my peace.

The Sergeant was right next to me and said : 

“This is what criminals like you get.”

I just kept laughing.

On the way out, I saw a mirror. And my reflection. 

A scarred face.

At least 20 marks from years of fighting for happiness.

Dark purple makeup that was now chipped and showed patches of my skin. 

A red line over my lips for a smile.

It worked well with the laughter.

I was shoved into the back of a bulletproof car that would take me to the death chair. They want to get rid of me right away. A bag was put on my head. It was in their eyes a touch of mercy. To calm you down as you go to your death. Like a lamb to the slaughter.

When we arrived, and the bag was removed from my head, I was shackled to an electric chair. Looking at a glass window to the control room headed by - you guessed it- The Sergeant.

“What are your last words?”

“ I did it so the people can have Joy, Sergeant. I have been saying that all day!”

“Marc, do you still believe that? You have a twisted definition of Joy! You only fight for death! Your place is the death chair you monster!”

“Sergeant, that is what Joy is..”

Joy was the feeling of great pleasure, and doesn’t that come from lack of feeling pain?

And that is when the sound powered up, deafening in the silence of the wide room, as I faced death with joy on my face.