Chapter 58: Switching seats

…

Danielle stood up with Rick at 09:40AM to get changed and leave for the airport. Nigel hugged her and shook hands with Rick. "Take care," he said, echoing Michael's words. "Both of you, ok?"

"Got it," Rick smiled at him and took her arm. "We ready kid?"

"Yes Sir," she mock saluted.

"Knock it off," he poked her arm but was laughing. She could hardly believe it. She'd been able to say 'sir' as a joke an impossibility just weeks before. "Now I just want to say this once too," Rick said as she opened the conference room doors. "If at any point you're unsure or you change your mind right up until we enter the witness room, you only have to tell me and a guard will take care of you until I come out. Ok?"

"Got it," she smiled at him. "Understood."

Before she knew quite what was happening they were at the airport, shaking hands with James and climbing into the private plane. She was touched beyond words when the pilot asked her how Charlotte was doing. "She's still in a coma, but thank you so much for remembering and asking. I'll ask Dr Loomis to keep you updated."

"Give my best to her family," James said as he checked the plane before returning to the cockpit for take-off."

"You got it, thanks James."

"Enjoy the flight guys." As the plane began to move along the runway and slowly gather speed, she sat back in her seat thinking about the day ahead. She stood by what she'd said in that conference room, she hoped Derek Chancer felt every second of his death. If she had her way she'd execute him forty-two times one for each victim and maybe another two for her and Rick too.

"You ok?" Rick asked quietly, clearly detecting her thoughts. She told him what she'd been thinking and he chuckled. "I don't think you're alone there." She was surprised but couldn't deny a little reassured when she realised Rick was wearing all his protective equipment including his firearm. "Why?" She asked, unsure how she felt about having an armed guard beside her. She saw him as a friend, not a guard. Again as if detecting her thoughts, he took her hand and squeezed it. "Hey I'm with you as your friend not guard," he assured. "I've just been asked to carry all my stuff because I am a trained guard, just in case anything… kicks off if there is any trouble. If there is though, my first priority will be your safety. I promise it has nothing to do with you."

"You sure?" She joked. "Keeping me out of trouble and all that?"

"Well now you mention it…" She lightly punched his shoulder, before removing his handcuffs from their pouch. The fact he made no move to stop her just proved both what he'd just said and the fact to him this was just his uniform. They were two friends, not guard and patient. "Should I be worried?" He quipped as she felt the heavy metal, opening and closing the jaws with quiet clicks.

"No thanks, I'm not into that sort of stuff, plus I think Michael would kill me, um, literally!"

He laughed. "Very true."

"Ok guys," James' voice came over the intercom. "Please fasten your seatbelts in preparation for take-off, also pay close attention to the safety briefing video I'm about to show you. Thank you."

She raised an eyebrow. "He showed us that live last time?"

"I guess he just uses the video if there's very few of us or he wants to get us moving. Obviously we need to be on time today."

"True," she agreed. This time she was able to pay real attention to the safety briefing, although she knew most of it from having flown a couple of times before in her life. She remembered one holiday to Europe with her parents which had been an absolute disaster. Her brother got spoilt rotten and she was left in a corner as the little blind person, people spoke about her instead of to her. She hoped never to repeat the experience, but knew with the Avery's she never would again. She told Rick about it as they finally took off into the morning sky and he tutted sympathetically. Unlike months before when she would have immediately considered it patronising, now she was genuinely grateful to him for it. She'd text Michael just before they got on the aircraft.

Just about to board the plane now. I love you, Michael.

His reply had come just before she'd had to turn her phone off.

I love you too. Take care and please stay safe. M.

Now as the plane flew onwards she smiled to herself. Yes she was perfectly safe this was true, but Derek Chancer most certainly was not. She wondered how his final few hours were going, whether he'd eventually right at the end apologise for his crimes during his final words. Somehow she doubted it. Men like Derek Chancer never surrendered or apologised, they took that with them to the grave. Maybe she would be proved wrong that evening, but wasn't holding out much hope for it. She knew a lot of Chancer's victim's families were going to be there and her heart almost broke with sympathy for them. They were finally getting the closure they should've had years ago. How had Dr Loomis not known right at the start Derek Chancer was beyond treatment? She said the same about him as she did regarding Greggory. Men like him could not be rehabilitated; they were destined for 'old sparky' from the moment they were caught. She supposed Dr Loomis had to try but to her it made no sense. If Chancer had ever been released he would've raped and killed again, of this she was certain. She might even have been his next target. One down, she thought. Chancer was heading for 'old sparky' in front of her eyes that very evening, maybe soon it would be Greggory's turn. One to go.

…

She pulled on her thick coat as the car drove inexorably towards the prison. Even with the heating activated it was freezing. Not that she was surprised as it was late November after all. "Cold?" Rick asked.

She nodded. "Yeah it's freezing."

"It is rather," he agreed and before she could stop him had put his thick coat over hers. "I'm…" she started, but Rick simply started to whistle. With a sigh but smile, she surrendered. "Thank you."

"I'm sorry I can't turn the heating up any further," said Martin, the Smith's Grove driver.

"No worries," she smiled at him. "I'm sure heating always struggles this time of year."

Martin chuckled. "Indeed."

Before she knew it they were at the prison. She felt another shiver of… something but wasn't sure what. Fear? But there was absolutely no way she would change her mind now. "Ok?" Rick murmured; something had obviously shown on her face.

"Fine," she said with a determined nod.

"You don't have to you know," he said softly. "Honestly you don't."

"I know," she smiled a little. "But I've come this far so I'm going to see this to the end. I guess it's just… strange to think I'm about to see a man die. Evil son of a bitch yes, but still…"

"As long as you're sure, remember what I told you."

"Nope," she squeezed his hand. "I'm good Rick, let's do this."

"Ok," her friend squeezed back.

They reached the first security point and she realised Rick hadn't been kidding. They were patted down by armed men and all she could hear was the chatter of radios. Rick told them he'd left his equipment in the car so as not to bring it and have to surrender it. "Ok," one of the armed guards said. she didn't have to see them to know their guns were the real deal. "Can I see both your acceptance letters please?" They both pulled them out of their pockets. She remembered when she'd gone to her cell just before they left to change into her black suit and slipping said letter into the pocket of the suit's jacket. Michael had gone with her.

You look gorgeous.

She smiled thinking of that text now. "You're just saying that because you're biased," she'd joked.

No, I'm saying it because I'm honest.

Rick was also wearing a suit and tie under his equipment vest. He knew she loved men in suits and she'd kept touching his jacket and tie. "What would Michael say?" He joked.

"I don't think I want to find out," she'd grinned back. "I'd probably be dying myself." The guard must've cleared her because he handed her back the letter, simply saying "Thank you Miss Avery." The sound of her adopted name made her smile again, she doubted that would ever change. Seconds later Rick was also cleared and they headed through the first set of prison gates. The buzzing sound of the gates opening was of course familiar to her after Smith's Grove, whose gates did exactly the same. Along with other witnesses, she and Rick continued walking to the next checkpoint.

…

Four hours to execution:

Derek's suspicions had been proved right. The macaroni and cheese did indeed taste cheap, but he tolerated it because he didn't want to die hungry. The chicken however with it wasn't bad. It was just a shame he couldn't also do so with his lust satisfied. The chocolate pie however was good. Derek severed each mouthful as he ate the huge dessert, trying to make it last as long as he possibly could. He was surprised he even wanted to eat without throwing it up, but it was as though his stomach just like his eyes earlier had accepted its life was soon to be over and wanted to go in style. Father Fletcher had spoken to him for three hours straight about Christianity and what it meant, how to accept Jesus and the rest. Derek had listened, nodded, said 'hmm' in the right places and even gone along with saying the so-called 'sinners prayer.' He however doubted it would do much good. If he was Jesus, he certainly wouldn't accept a guy who was only talking to him because his life was over in under 6 hours. The Chaplin was still with him now, Derek had been told he could be with him right until he was dead. Normally he would've told him to fuck off hours ago having no time for religion, but his company was better than none. Aiden Thompson had arrived at mid-day and was sitting with them now as he ate. Derek didn't want to speak to him though unless he had to. His mind seemed to have gone numb unable to think about anything. It was as if his very ability to think had already died before his body did.

"Is there anything you can do?" He finally looked up from his pie of which he still had a lot left to look at Thompson. To get me out of this?"

"I am still trying," the lawyer said smoothly. "I will not give up until… I have to."

He understood what his lawyer was not saying. Until you're in the chair being fried. "Thanks," he said grudgingly. If Thompson hadn't been able to thus far, what were the chances he'd be able to this close to execution? Derek knew very occasionally lawyers managed to get a reprieve, an appeal at the last hour or even a pardon for their clients in the past, but he also wasn't stupid enough to think the governor would pardon someone who'd raped and killed forty-two women without remorse or mercy. As if reading his mind, Thompson spoke again. "There are protesters outside the governor's mansion right now trying to stop this execution." .

Derek scoffed. Those fucking idiots. They only cared about the abolishment of capital punishment, not the man who was about to face it! "Those twats don't give a shit about me," he said, voicing his thoughts. "They just hate the death penalty. They're probably thrilled Derek Chancer is about to face the damn chair!"

"That's as maybe," Thompson said. "But you never know, the governor might take notice."

"Bullshit he will," Derek snorted. "He's probably as happy as all those fucking women out there that I'm about to die! Those gawping fuckers who will sit in the witness room come 6 and cheer when I'm pronounced dead! Those protesters never do any good, they just want the media to see them and have their voices heard! When in God's name have they ever succeeded in stopping an execution?" He didn't even apologise to Father Fletcher for his use of God's name that way, he'd gone past caring if he was completely honest. "What the fuck do they achieve? Now if they stop this execution I'll love them forever! But come on, their just fucking idiots who want an excuse to protest! Those candles? Songs? Prayers? They ain't for me! They're just to have attention on them as opposed to the guest of honour," he sneered the last three words.

"I understand your point of view," Thompson said evenly. "But you never know, they might. Either way I can't stop them if they wish to protest and that's not my responsibility anyway, my job is you."

"Then fucking do something," Derek snarled before he could hold the words back. "I don't want to die tonight Thompson! My only hope now is you and you damn well know it! There must be something you can do?"

The telephone in the small office they were in suddenly rang and Thompson grabbed it. Derek desperately tried not to feel hope, he wasn't naive enough to think it would be good news. "The governor has just denied clemency," Thompson said softly as he lowered the receiver. Derek felt his panic threaten to take over again. That was it, the last nail in his coffin. The only way he could deal with this was anger. "Of course he fucking has," he snarled. "Got to look after the victims, all those bitches who are dead and their families, got to respect the women he killed blab, blab! Spare me Thompson, I don't need to hear anymore! I bet that's what he said in his fucking tailored suit and tie in his announcement, yes?"

"Near enough," Thompson said quietly. Derek couldn't help it. He took a deep breath and let it out in a long, terrified scream. "FUCK!"

…

"Ok guys," a guard said. "If I could ask you to just wait here please for the first of the transport vans?"

Rick nodded. "Of course." They sat on benches specifically for waiting witnesses. They could hear the soft singing of the Anti-death penalty protesters just outside the Maximum security unit's gates. She wondered if it was Chancer's execution they were protesting for, or just against the death penalty itself. If she had been one of them she wouldn't be protesting for Chancer what so ever! Hell she'd probably miss this entire execution altogether, unable to protest in good conscience because of whom was about to die!

"I don't know why they even bother to protest," she said quietly, voicing her train of thought. "I mean, what good does it do? Illinois is a death penalty state and I don't see how singing and praying with candles will change it."

"You are so sinical Miss Avery."

"So correct," she countered. He chuckled. "I do have to agree though. I don't see the point of it either. Not really."

She suddenly heard a voice she recognised from the news and couldn't resist turning towards the speaker. "Excuse me," she said quietly. "Mrs. Goodall?" The woman turned. "Hello?"

"I'm sorry," she said, standing and holding out her hand which Sarah Goodall took. "My name is Danielle; I was in Smith's Grove when they were…" she hesitated. "Insisting on trying to treat Chancer."

"It's nice to meet you," Goodall said, immediately noticing the woman in front of her was blind.

"I recognised your voice from the news," she said, knowing Sarah would notice she couldn't see. "I heard you speak just now and wanted to introduce myself. I am so sorry for your loss Mrs. Goodall."

"You are a sweetheart," the other woman squeezed her arm. "Thank you. Rick stood then and introduced himself, telling Mrs. Goodall he was one of the Smith's Grove guards and what Derek Chancer had almost done to him. But she noticed he altered the story slightly by saying guards had come in and knocked Chancer out. She understood, saying it was Michael Myers when no one knew how he'd changed? She doubted anyone would believe it. She couldn't stop a smile at Rick when he told the lie.

"Samantha Lever is also here," Mrs. Goodall said in a low voice. "Rachel's sister."

"Shit," she exhaled. "Rachael was very young wasn't she?"

"19," Mrs. Goodall murmured. She felt anger for Derek Chancer all over again. "Son of a bitch."

"How old was Andrea, Mrs. Goodall?" She asked softly.

"She was 25 when Chancer took her from us. She'd gone down to the local shops for some milk and bam! We told her not to go so late at night alone but she was adamant."

"Sounds like I would've really liked her, determined to be independent. It just sucks that fucking… sorry," she apologised, but Mrs. Goodall chuckled. "You're right. They are fuckers."

"It sucks that fucking men think women are worthless, shouldn't be independent, should be controlled, obey the man's every word, raped, beaten, killed."

"You sound like you're talking from experience?" Mrs. Goodall said gently.

"Oh yes," she almost growled. "Damn right I am. But we're not here to focus on me, we're here for Andrea and all the other women that bastard in there killed!"

"You're a darling," she realised with shock that Samantha Lever had just joined them another she had heard speak on the news. "But do tell us your story? How were you… unfortunate enough to meet Mr. Chancer?" Keeping it short she told them about Adam, his abuse leading up to her suicide attempt which had landed her in Smith's Grove. How Chancer had come in and somehow been employed by Adam to listen to and report on her to him. How Adam had managed to critically injure Charlotte her best friend, and then kidnap her. Like Rick, she altered the story so it sounded as though other guards had rescued her. She felt him squeeze her arm as she too lied and they smiled at each other, sharing their beautiful secret.

"Sweet Jesus," Mrs. Lever said in horror when she was done. "I'm so sorry sweetheart, you're just as much a victim as our families are!"

"Thank you Mrs. Lever," she said sincerely. "But I don't think that's true I didn't lose someone I loved, I wasn't raped and killed by him."

"That's as maybe," Mrs. Goodall said firmly. "But that fucker in there still put you in terrible danger. That to me makes you just as much of a victim! Kudos to you for being here to witness him fry, you deserve closure just as much as we do!" she was so touched by Mrs. Goodall's passionate words, she stepped forward and hugged her. She was almost brought to tears by the warmth in the other woman as she embraced her back without hesitation as did Mrs. Lever. "I meant to say call me Sarah," she murmured in her ear, just as Samantha Lever had done. "I prefer Sam," she said in a confidential whisper.

"Here's the van," Mrs. Goodall said a minute later. She could not believe it when both women took her arms and helped her towards and into the van, Rick following behind. "Oh I see how it is, I'm out of a job," he murmured to her once he was sitting behind her, Mrs. Goodall beside her. The van pulled away and Mrs. Goodall told her that this one was only for family and directly connected witnesses. "Which of course includes you," she squeezed her arm again.

"How many… grieving family members are here?" She whispered to Sarah Goodall.

"I think every victim has one witness," the other woman murmured back. "Due to his high number of… casualties we could only bring one witness for each victim."

"Did that cause you a problem?"

"You sound a little frustrated."

Sarah laughed a little. "Oh my husband wanted to be there, insisted he wanted to see that 'fucker die'" she stressed the last two words and Danielle knew it was a quote. "But… you know, she's my daughter, Chancer killed women, you understand?"

"Oh hell yes!" she said vehemently. "Damn right I understand Sarah! Did your husband relent in the end?"

"He didn't like it," Sarah said. "But yes, he finally understood my point of view."

"Good!" she said sincerely.

They finally reached the gates to the Maximum security unit and the van came to a stop. The doors slid open at the push of a button from the driver and they all exited. Mrs. Goodall immediately taking her arm again. It was almost as though something in her story had caused Sarah to take her under her wing during this execution. That said she knew they were both united by terrible loss in their own way thanks entirely to Derek Julian Chancer.

…

Two hours to execution:

Now, he was starting to feel sick. Derek was certain he was about to throw up the chocolate pie he'd just finished. He desperately fought with his insides, determined not to give the prison even that small victory before they fried him. He knew the witnesses would be starting to arrive now and it made everything seem even more real, as if he'd been living in some horrible nightmare for the last few days. He could almost hear the grim reaper himself banging the symbols of deaf together in his ears, telling him he would soon claim Derek Chancer's soul. Derek believed more in the grim reaper than this Jesus rubbish Fletcher had spouted at him all day. Just as he'd suspected no visitors came to see him during the allotted final visit time, but then he wasn't surprised. Thompson and Fletcher had stayed with him inside the holding cell as they were allowed to do. Every now and then Thompson would step out to take a phone call on the office phone nearby. Every time he did this, Derek would desperately clamp down on any shred of hope which tried to rear its head. There was… pun intended, absolutely no chance it would be good news at this late stage. Yes it had happened before this was true, but to him? A rapist and woman killer? Not likely! He wasn't naive to think it would do either. Even though every single part of him had prayed… hoped for it constantly over the last forty-eight hours. He didn't even have the energy or inclination to put up a final fight when a guard entered to shave his head and calf. He was a beaten man by this point and what would fighting do anyway? They'd probably just shackle him and carry him to the fucking chair when the time came if he did that.

…

She was surprised how small the witness room actually was, or perhaps it was just the sheer number of witnesses within it for this particular execution. Either way it was tight and claustrophobic. Just before they'd entered Rick had asked her one final time if she was sure, she'd hugged him and nodded once. Now they were inside the time for changing her mind had passed. Once again Sarah Goodall was sitting on one side, Samantha Lever on the other. It was as though she'd made two instant friends united in grief and loss. Rick was sitting right behind her. The witness room was almost silent, save for the soft murmur of conversation. Rick had asked the guards ahead of time if he could show her the glass before Chancer was brought in, to which the guards had agreed due to her special circumstances. So when they'd entered the witness room he'd taken her up to the huge sheet of glass and she'd touched it. It went from one side of the witness room to the other Rick had explained, giving everyone the best possible view. The Death Chamber was directly on the other side, a small room containing purely 'old sparky' and nothing else.

"That sounds so macabre," she remarked with a grim smile. "The best view of someone dying. Now it kind of make sense why they stopped public executions. At least all these people in here have a valid reason to see it as opposed to pure blood lust."

…

Thirty minutes to execution:

The sedative they'd given him hadn't worked. They'd told him it would sedate him slightly; it'd done fuck all. True he'd only swallowed the little pill ten minutes ago, but damn where were the effects? Panic and terror were most certainly not the last two feelings Derek Chancer wanted to die with!

…

Danielle retook her seat between Sarah and Samantha five minutes later, not quite able to believe what had just happened. Rick had arranged it in secret and affection swelled for her friend. "Danielle?" Said the voice of one of the guards. She looked up. "Yes?"

"Please can you come with me for a moment?" Without questioning it she stood up and took his arm. He led her through two secure doors and then stopped. There was no echo where they were and all she could hear was a soft humming sound.

"Am I…" she spoke in just above a whisper, unable to believe where she was now standing. "Am I now in the Death Chamber?"

"You are indeed," the guard confirmed. Taking her hand he laid it on the arm of a wooden chair. She could not believe it, she was touching 'old sparky' himself. "Your friend Rick arranged it this morning," the guard said and she could hear he was smiling. Taking her arm again he showed her how small the Death Chamber indeed was then the glass from their side of the room.

"I wouldn't want to die in here," she said, keeping her voice low still. "It's really claustrophobic and I can see how only a few people fit in here. Not exactly where I'd want to face my death!"

"Yes, only three guards to secure Mr. Chancer and the Chaplin are in here, the guards then leave and the person being executed is alone with the Chaplin." He laid her hand back on the electric chair and spoke softly. "Go on it's fine." Again she could hardly believe what she was doing as Danielle Avery sat down in 'old sparky.' She was glad this was before the execution not after. As if reading her mind the guard spoke again. "We wouldn't do it after. For one thing the chair may be hot and for another…"

She nodded. She wouldn't want to sit where someone albeit an absolute asshole had died just minutes before. Unable to stop herself she felt the straps which would go around Derek Chancer's arms, legs and chest. Picking one up, the guard loosely strapped down her left arm. Even loose she couldn't move it. "Wow," she let out a soft whistle. He then handed her the skull cap, a metal heavy helmet like object with more straps attached to it. "Doesn't he also wear a hood?" She was still speaking quietly, something about the Death Chamber made her unable to speak in normal tones. Was it the very smell of death? Or maybe even that this room was possibly haunted by the scores of people who had died exactly where she was sitting right now.

"Yes," the guard confirmed, handing her the piece of cloth. He then loosely applied the chest strap to her.

"Shit," she let out a low whistle. "That is scary enough, just knowing you're about to die strapped down like an animal… that said, Derek Chancer fucking deserves it! I'm sorry Sir but he does!"

"Hey it's Joel," he squeezed her strapped down arm. "Nice to meet you. For what it's worth I completely agree with you regarding Mr. Chancer."

"Nice to meet you too, Joel. Thank you so much for this." She heard the snap of a camera and realised Joel had just taken a picture of her within the seat of 'old sparky.' "Rick asked me to so you can prove your story," he smiled.

"Oh god," she groaned. "Now I can tell you for a fact I'll have people saying 'what? And they let you out alive afterwards?' Thanks Rick!"

Joel laughed softly. "Thanks," she said as he took a couple more shots. "Are you going to pull the switch on me now?"

Joel chuckled. "Nah, I'll let you out this time I suppose," he sighed dramatically. "You won't both fit!"

She couldn't help but laugh. She knew the guards had dark senses of humour and couldn't blame them either. It was doubtlessly their coping mechanism to get them through putting even evil people like Chancer to death. Joel released her from the restraints, helped her stand and step down from the small platform 'old sparky' stood on. "Plus last time I checked I hadn't raped and killed forty-two innocent women," she said in disgust. "Fuck I hope it hurts him!"

"Yes it was a terrible crime," he murmured and she could hear genuine sympathy and sadness in his voice. She already respected him enormously for what he'd just let her see and do, but it only rose even further if that were possible at this. Joel made to lead her out but she likely tugged his arm and he stopped. "Listen," she whispered. She could've sworn the soft hum had just changed in both volume and pitch. It was louder and higher.

"Yes," he confirmed softly. "That's the electricity generator, they've just powered it up to start the chair's charging cycle. They do that with 20 minutes remaining until execution."

She shivered a little. "Just to clarify I do know it's not actually one switch," she said as he finally guided her back out of the Death Chamber a few seconds later. "Don't three people all press a button at the same time so no one knows who actually sets the current going?"

"Yep," Joel said. "Psychological thing."

She nodded. "That makes sense, although I have to be honest with you Joel I'd have no God damn qualms about pressing that single button on my own for this bastard!"

"I don't think you're alone there," Joel said.

Now as she retook her seat between the two women Rick squeezed her shoulder. "Did you… well like is possibly the wrong word… did it help you understand execution even better?"

"I can't thank you enough for that Rick," she said sincerely, turning in her seat to grasp his hand. "I really, really can't."

"Then you're welcome."

"Rick has asked if I could squeeze your hand when the electrocution starts," Sarah said. "I'll do that for you no problem."

"As will I," Samantha said. she felt a swell of affection and sadness for both of them. The four of them in their little group were only sitting in this room because of one man's evil, misogynistic actions which had taken so many innocent lives.

…

Fifteen minutes to execution.

"Time to go Chancer," a guard said opening the door to the holding cell. Now Derek was feeling numb. Was that the effects of the sedative? Truth be told he didn't know but he was glad of it. Maybe his body had finally accepted its fate? The guard handcuffed him and Fletcher placed a hand on his shoulder. It was probably supposed to be a comforting gesture but Derek hated it. But neither did he have the strength or inclination to shrug him off. Three armed guards joined the first and he was escorted in his cheap prison slippers (he couldn't wear shoes of course) through two doors, taking the final steps of his life as he entered the Death Chamber. The first thing he noticed was the hum. Fuck! He knew what that sound was alright, the electricity which would very soon take his life. They reached the platform where 'old sparky' waited and Derek wondered briefly if he was about to faint. Dizziness overtook him and he grabbed one of the guards arms without thinking. "Steady there," the guard murmured as another took his other arm and they helped him step up onto the platform. If this had been any other situation what so ever Derek would've hated it and shrugged them off violently, but this time he was almost grateful for their aid in making the last step up of his life.

They turned him around and he took his seat in 'old sparky.' The electric chair was hard wood but it wasn't like he would be alive inside it for long, this was where he was about to die! Two of the guards quickly and efficiently started strapping down his arms, legs and finally his chest. Derek could feel himself shaking now and there was nothing he could do to stop it. The sedative hadn't worked after all. He was only to aware of his surroundings and death's heavy breathing down his neck. He had less than ten minutes to live.

…

It was the sudden hush of conversation which alerted her the execution was about to start. Both Sarah and Samantha took her hands and she could feel them trembling a little with emotion. She squeezed both back as hard as she could trying to tell them in her own way she was there for them and understood, even though she herself hadn't lost anyone to Chancer. He had still done more than enough damage to her safety and even life. From behind her she felt Rick's hand rest on her shoulder and squeeze after which he left it there. Her heart was thumping surprisingly fast considering she was only sitting in the witness room. Perhaps the knowledge of what she was about to be a witness to had finally hit her after all. She'd texted Michael one final time just before entering the prison.

We're entering Death Row now. I love you.

She'd had to turn her phone off immediately so wasn't sure if he replied or not. It was then she heard it, the soft whoosh of the curtains being opened. She drew in a sharp breath and heard several others in the packed room doing the same.

"He's strapped in the chair," Samantha Lever breathed in her left ear.

"Ladies and gentleman," the warden's voice came through the concealed speakers. "I ask you please to try and remain silent and medical assistance is on standby if you need it. Thank you."

There were a few seconds pause, before the warden spoke again. "Derek Julian Chancer, you have been condemned to die in the electric chair, sentence past by a jury of your peers and imposed by a judge of good standing in this state, God save the people of this state. Finally confirmed by a qualified doctor following failed hospital treatment. In passing their verdict, all twelve members of the jury agreed unanimously your crimes in the sexual assault and deaths of forty-two women were especially heinous, atrocious and cruel. Do you have any final words to say before your death sentence is carried out?" There was total silence. She was certain she could have heard a pin drop just then. Chancer's microphone was turned on and they could now hear his fast, panicked, terrified and heavy breathing. "Now he knows how every single one of his fucking victims felt in the last seconds of their lives as he killed them," someone snarled from a few seats away. She agreed with the unknown voice.

"I…" they heard Derek Chancer swallow hard. "I hope someone else can continue what I started. Women deserve to die and be raped; I do not regret a single thing I did my only regret was being captured, and that you bastards now have what you doubtlessly see as a victory in executing me. I may have murdered bitches, but you are now murdering me."

"Damn fucking right," another woman snarled. "Fuck I want to kill him myself!"

"You think that by killing me you've won but I can assure you you haven't. There will be more men who think like me, more men who want to kill women so executing me solves nothing! All I can hope for now is that the next man to follow in my footsteps doesn't end up where I'm sitting now! Fuck you bastards, die every single one of you!"

"What a charmer," someone muttered. "Die slowly yourself asshole!" Chancer's microphone was deactivated. "They're putting the hood and skull cap on him," It was Sarah Goodall's turn to speak. "He's now looking through at us."

She felt herself shiver at this knowledge before reminding herself Derek Chancer could and would never hurt anyone ever again, his life was about to end. Both women squeezed her hands softly and Rick her shoulder, clearly knowing and understanding what she was thinking right then.

"Derek Julian Chancer, electricity shall now be passed through your body until you are dead, in accordance with state law. May God have mercy on your soul," said the voice of the warden before his mike too was deactivated. The silence which followed was the most intense Danielle Avery had ever heard. It was the kind of silence one could almost hear. She felt every single beat of her heart and she waited for the squeeze.

Both women squeezed her hands once as Rick squeezed her shoulder, his own silent signal as promised.

She wasn't sure what she'd expected. The hum grew slightly louder, but that was it. She didn't hear him jolt in the chair or scream, but of course the glass was too thick for that.

"He's jolted forward," Lever whispered. "His fists have clenched."

Just over thirty seconds later the hum died a little, everyone waited in silence no one as much as coughed. Were they perhaps shocked at what they'd just seen and heard? She didn't know. She knew that right then a doctor was checking Derek Chancer for a heartbeat and then would pronounce him dead. His body would then be removed from the prison and taken to a morgue somewhere. She doubted anyone would want to claim the body of the son of a bitch! For her part she just wanted the relief of knowing Derek Chancer had just left this world and that he personally could not harm a woman again, in spite of his cruel and frankly evil last words. Even just before death he hated women right to the end of his life.

"Derek Julian Chancer was pronounced dead at 06:08PM," said the warden's voice. "Please remain in your seats until a guard arrives to release you. Thank you"