The Truth Behind a Smile

When Stephen reached his car, he noticed bloody handprints on the door handles. He must’ve hit the man who’d escaped. He put the unconscious woman in the back seat and wrapped the seatbelt around her. Jumping in the driver’s seat, he started the car, and sped off in search of the nearest hospital looking for signs to guide his way

He knew that when the nurses saw all the blood covering his arms and the sweater now on the woman, they were going to have questions. His determination, however, did not waver as he broke speed limits and ran red lights on his way to the hospital.

Eventually he managed to find it and pulled up right to the emergency room door. Stephen jumped out of the car, with memories of his daughter’s birth flashing through his mind, he shouted for help. He grabbed the woman out of the car and carried her into the hospital.

Nurses at reception had him place the woman’s limp form on a stretcher and asked what had happened.

Stephen told the nurses how he’d found the young woman and confessed to the murders he’d committed—all of them.

If it hadn’t been for all of the blood staining his clothes and arms, ties with the sincerity in his voice, the hospital guards and nursing staff might have thought that an old man killing so many men, some in such gruesome fashion, was some kind of sick joke. They knew something was amiss, and guards kept a close eye on Stephen until the police arrived. He didn’t offer the arresting officers any resistance.

The following months were a jumbled blur of courtrooms, distraught family members, and shocked faces as Stephen confessed to his crimes and accepted responsibility for them so willingly. He begged the judge for the harshest penalty and when faced with death row, he welcomed it with open arms.