Deathrow

In Jackson Cade, Promo by Jackson Cade

“Deathrow.”

“The end of the line, the place where the interned go to die at either the blades of Zeus’ loyal, or to the hands of one another. It’s said once you’re down there, you’ve signed your death warrant, there’s no escape from the sharp edge of fate’s blade.”

“Shackles on your wrists, you march forwards towards your demise with nothing but your thoughts to keep you company. You want to leave, to run and never look back, but you know that can never happen. You must walk the green mile towards your own obituary.”

“Sure, you might be able to delay the inevitable if you really try. You could hide amongst the cells, hope that the others find themselves reaped by the reaper’s scythe. But sooner or later, you’re going to be forced to pay the piper.”

“No one leaves Deathrow alive, do they?”

“No one, that is, except for you. Isn’t that right, Harold?”

“Somehow, someway, you found a way to weasel your way past the cell doors, slipping out of those chains as you made a break for it. The line of lambs lead to slaughter a distant memory as you rose back to the upper levels.”

“You’re the man who lived, the Nobody that found a way to escape fate despite every last man before you failing where you succeeded.”

“No more blood, no more violence, simply you and the life you were nearly forced to lose by your name ending up on the Warden’s ledger down in Deathrow. Despite it all, fate somehow forgot about you, the reaper had a blind spot and you just happened to slip past it.”

“Or did you?”

“You know, these last few months I’ve been trying to do something important to me, Harold. My brother, Joey, he was trapped down there like you were. I just wanted him to be safe, Harold.”

“But you didn’t care.”

“You, Ares, the Sheriff? You all told me to forget about him, he was already dead. Nothing can be done to save him.”

“It had me thinking, you know.”

“No one escapes from Deathrow.”

“Maybe not even you.”

“Because next week? You’ve been told to meet me in the ring. Whether you realize it or not, the ramp down to the ring is your green mile.”

“A dead man walking towards his inevitable fate at the hands of a man with nothing left to lose.”

“I’m your death sentence, Harold. The man who’s going to beat you bloody until the life leaves your eyes.”

“I need to make a decision. Either I’m in, or I’m out.”

“Well maybe I’m in.”

“If beating you, breaking you,┬ákilling you, is what I need to do to bend the rules and save Joey? Then so be it.”

“And as you feel your heart slow to a stop, just know, I won’t enjoy taking your life.”

“I’m just doing what needs to be done.”

“For me, for Joey.”

“Maybe it’s by the book, maybe it’s not.”

“All I know is there’s a dead man walking.”