The "Freeola Customer Forum" forum, which includes Retro Game Reviews, has been archived and is now read-only. You cannot post here or create a new thread or review on this forum.
Muffled sounds of helpless criminals echoed throughout this confined Dungeon, as they were dragged along the green mile. I soon would be walking towards Hell for a crime I didn’t commit.
This tiny room, which the guards left me in, is just four small concrete walls and just accommodates a scruffy cream-colored stone bed to rest on. Claustrophobic as it may be, I’ll soon be out. Last time my eyes set on natural light must have been around a month ago or even more, after being in solitary confinement for so long you lose count of the hours days or months. All I have is just artificial light that creeps through cracks in the cell door like running water. The screws don’t even give you a light in here; all I have is these small crevices of light to comfort me.
Family and Friends resented me after they was left to believe I had brutally murdered my own wife and kids, Sigh, My own wife and Kids? Why would they believe I’d do such a terrible thing like that? Dad, heh, he says what he always says
“I’m very disappointed in you boy” sigh, he treats me like a juvenile teenager, even though I haven’t done anything wrong and now a menace is out there, probably with a clean smirk on his face whilst I’m paying the price for his crime.
Drumming footsteps from patrolling guards got louder and more frequent; do they want to lead me to insanity? Because just stamping their shiny clean boots on the floor won’t drive me crazy, Oh no.
Seems like I have sat in this stupid room for hours, that rotten screw said I’d only be in here for ten minutes whilst they set up my appointment to meet death! I hope they don’t send in that damn vicar to give me the “last rights”. Vicar, bah! It’s just some old screw wearing a dog collar and bible.
I lost my small faith as soon as I got sent down, God should have protected me and proved my innocence, But oh no, He decides to just sweep Joe Lomas into the dark depths of hell for no apparent reason. What kind of name is Joe Lomas anyway? My parents never really liked me; they just used me as a doll to take their anger out on after major rows.
Couldn’t the guards just give me something to eat before I go? Hunger, Dehydration, Constipation I’ve got the lot, Death is probably the easiest way to stop the pain. For crying out loud they don’t even give you a toilet! And I have even started talking to myself; this room is probably used as a way to drive you crazy before you even go to receive the injection.
What’s that? The small viewing window the guards use is slowly creaking open like a possessed door in a haunted house.
“Joe Lomas, its time…” Here we go, He handcuffed me and dragged my limp body along the infamous mile, trudging along with this guard seemed to last for ages. Just in the distance I could make out a dentist type chair with lots of stern looking men, staring at me with disgust. Them and their cushy jobs, I’d rather be dead than having to sit with them.
They strapped me tight into this uncomfortable chair, like at the dentist but scarier, I’m not here for a regular checkup of my teeth; I’m here to receive an injection to end my innocent life. Suddenly they all left in a hurry, it was comforting to be alone but where did they all go? The chair started to turn towards a large mirror, most likely with those stupid people behind staring at me.
One man wearing some sort of costume you’d find in comic books walked slowly towards my chair, pushing a steel trolley. That lethal needle was somewhere on the trolley, and I could feel the anxiety levels in my body boosting up a notch as he sorted the injection equipment ready for use.
Silence, unable to hear anything but just a small murmur of the doctor, holding the shot that will stop my heart and brain from working. He stabbed it in and pushed the liquid into my body. Cold, tingling sensations rushed up my arm like stampedes of wild animals. Breathing is difficult, but I saw this man running in shouting
“STOP, STOP!” Have they found my innocence?
Copyrighted by gamezfreak 2002©
This tiny room, which the guards left me in, is just four small concrete walls and just accommodates a scruffy cream-colored stone bed to rest on. Claustrophobic as it may be, I’ll soon be out. Last time my eyes set on natural light must have been around a month ago or even more, after being in solitary confinement for so long you lose count of the hours days or months. All I have is just artificial light that creeps through cracks in the cell door like running water. The screws don’t even give you a light in here; all I have is these small crevices of light to comfort me.
Family and Friends resented me after they was left to believe I had brutally murdered my own wife and kids, Sigh, My own wife and Kids? Why would they believe I’d do such a terrible thing like that? Dad, heh, he says what he always says
“I’m very disappointed in you boy” sigh, he treats me like a juvenile teenager, even though I haven’t done anything wrong and now a menace is out there, probably with a clean smirk on his face whilst I’m paying the price for his crime.
Drumming footsteps from patrolling guards got louder and more frequent; do they want to lead me to insanity? Because just stamping their shiny clean boots on the floor won’t drive me crazy, Oh no.
Seems like I have sat in this stupid room for hours, that rotten screw said I’d only be in here for ten minutes whilst they set up my appointment to meet death! I hope they don’t send in that damn vicar to give me the “last rights”. Vicar, bah! It’s just some old screw wearing a dog collar and bible.
I lost my small faith as soon as I got sent down, God should have protected me and proved my innocence, But oh no, He decides to just sweep Joe Lomas into the dark depths of hell for no apparent reason. What kind of name is Joe Lomas anyway? My parents never really liked me; they just used me as a doll to take their anger out on after major rows.
Couldn’t the guards just give me something to eat before I go? Hunger, Dehydration, Constipation I’ve got the lot, Death is probably the easiest way to stop the pain. For crying out loud they don’t even give you a toilet! And I have even started talking to myself; this room is probably used as a way to drive you crazy before you even go to receive the injection.
What’s that? The small viewing window the guards use is slowly creaking open like a possessed door in a haunted house.
“Joe Lomas, its time…” Here we go, He handcuffed me and dragged my limp body along the infamous mile, trudging along with this guard seemed to last for ages. Just in the distance I could make out a dentist type chair with lots of stern looking men, staring at me with disgust. Them and their cushy jobs, I’d rather be dead than having to sit with them.
They strapped me tight into this uncomfortable chair, like at the dentist but scarier, I’m not here for a regular checkup of my teeth; I’m here to receive an injection to end my innocent life. Suddenly they all left in a hurry, it was comforting to be alone but where did they all go? The chair started to turn towards a large mirror, most likely with those stupid people behind staring at me.
One man wearing some sort of costume you’d find in comic books walked slowly towards my chair, pushing a steel trolley. That lethal needle was somewhere on the trolley, and I could feel the anxiety levels in my body boosting up a notch as he sorted the injection equipment ready for use.
Silence, unable to hear anything but just a small murmur of the doctor, holding the shot that will stop my heart and brain from working. He stabbed it in and pushed the liquid into my body. Cold, tingling sensations rushed up my arm like stampedes of wild animals. Breathing is difficult, but I saw this man running in shouting
“STOP, STOP!” Have they found my innocence?
Copyrighted by gamezfreak 2002©
Black Glove wrote:
> Nice one.
> Being found guilty for a crime you didn't commit must be one of the
> worst things that could happen. And being put to death for a crime you
> didn't commit must be hell on earth.
I'd take my own life, just to show to the justice system that I refuse to die by their hand.
> Nice one.
> Being found guilty for a crime you didn't commit must be one of the
> worst things that could happen. And being put to death for a crime you
> didn't commit must be hell on earth.
I'd take my own life, just to show to the justice system that I refuse to die by their hand.
I wrote this story directly because of what you just said Black Glove.
Oh and I got an A for it. (English Coursework) Just thought i'd post it here for others to read.
Oh and I got an A for it. (English Coursework) Just thought i'd post it here for others to read.
Nice one.
Being found guilty for a crime you didn't commit must be one of the worst things that could happen. And being put to death for a crime you didn't commit must be hell on earth.
I wonder how many innocent people it's happened to over the years? Hundreds? Thousands? And by countless revolting means - hanging, beheading, electricution.
The crimes some people commit can be sickening, but the Death Penalty is a hideous way of dealing with serious crime. Murder is murder, whether it's committed by one man or by the law of a state.
Time to truly pursue redemption is a human right.
Oops sorry, I'm rambling like a skunk.
Being found guilty for a crime you didn't commit must be one of the worst things that could happen. And being put to death for a crime you didn't commit must be hell on earth.
I wonder how many innocent people it's happened to over the years? Hundreds? Thousands? And by countless revolting means - hanging, beheading, electricution.
The crimes some people commit can be sickening, but the Death Penalty is a hideous way of dealing with serious crime. Murder is murder, whether it's committed by one man or by the law of a state.
Time to truly pursue redemption is a human right.
Oops sorry, I'm rambling like a skunk.
Muffled sounds of helpless criminals echoed throughout this confined Dungeon, as they were dragged along the green mile. I soon would be walking towards Hell for a crime I didn’t commit.
This tiny room, which the guards left me in, is just four small concrete walls and just accommodates a scruffy cream-colored stone bed to rest on. Claustrophobic as it may be, I’ll soon be out. Last time my eyes set on natural light must have been around a month ago or even more, after being in solitary confinement for so long you lose count of the hours days or months. All I have is just artificial light that creeps through cracks in the cell door like running water. The screws don’t even give you a light in here; all I have is these small crevices of light to comfort me.
Family and Friends resented me after they was left to believe I had brutally murdered my own wife and kids, Sigh, My own wife and Kids? Why would they believe I’d do such a terrible thing like that? Dad, heh, he says what he always says
“I’m very disappointed in you boy” sigh, he treats me like a juvenile teenager, even though I haven’t done anything wrong and now a menace is out there, probably with a clean smirk on his face whilst I’m paying the price for his crime.
Drumming footsteps from patrolling guards got louder and more frequent; do they want to lead me to insanity? Because just stamping their shiny clean boots on the floor won’t drive me crazy, Oh no.
Seems like I have sat in this stupid room for hours, that rotten screw said I’d only be in here for ten minutes whilst they set up my appointment to meet death! I hope they don’t send in that damn vicar to give me the “last rights”. Vicar, bah! It’s just some old screw wearing a dog collar and bible.
I lost my small faith as soon as I got sent down, God should have protected me and proved my innocence, But oh no, He decides to just sweep Joe Lomas into the dark depths of hell for no apparent reason. What kind of name is Joe Lomas anyway? My parents never really liked me; they just used me as a doll to take their anger out on after major rows.
Couldn’t the guards just give me something to eat before I go? Hunger, Dehydration, Constipation I’ve got the lot, Death is probably the easiest way to stop the pain. For crying out loud they don’t even give you a toilet! And I have even started talking to myself; this room is probably used as a way to drive you crazy before you even go to receive the injection.
What’s that? The small viewing window the guards use is slowly creaking open like a possessed door in a haunted house.
“Joe Lomas, its time…” Here we go, He handcuffed me and dragged my limp body along the infamous mile, trudging along with this guard seemed to last for ages. Just in the distance I could make out a dentist type chair with lots of stern looking men, staring at me with disgust. Them and their cushy jobs, I’d rather be dead than having to sit with them.
They strapped me tight into this uncomfortable chair, like at the dentist but scarier, I’m not here for a regular checkup of my teeth; I’m here to receive an injection to end my innocent life. Suddenly they all left in a hurry, it was comforting to be alone but where did they all go? The chair started to turn towards a large mirror, most likely with those stupid people behind staring at me.
One man wearing some sort of costume you’d find in comic books walked slowly towards my chair, pushing a steel trolley. That lethal needle was somewhere on the trolley, and I could feel the anxiety levels in my body boosting up a notch as he sorted the injection equipment ready for use.
Silence, unable to hear anything but just a small murmur of the doctor, holding the shot that will stop my heart and brain from working. He stabbed it in and pushed the liquid into my body. Cold, tingling sensations rushed up my arm like stampedes of wild animals. Breathing is difficult, but I saw this man running in shouting
“STOP, STOP!” Have they found my innocence?
Copyrighted by gamezfreak 2002©
This tiny room, which the guards left me in, is just four small concrete walls and just accommodates a scruffy cream-colored stone bed to rest on. Claustrophobic as it may be, I’ll soon be out. Last time my eyes set on natural light must have been around a month ago or even more, after being in solitary confinement for so long you lose count of the hours days or months. All I have is just artificial light that creeps through cracks in the cell door like running water. The screws don’t even give you a light in here; all I have is these small crevices of light to comfort me.
Family and Friends resented me after they was left to believe I had brutally murdered my own wife and kids, Sigh, My own wife and Kids? Why would they believe I’d do such a terrible thing like that? Dad, heh, he says what he always says
“I’m very disappointed in you boy” sigh, he treats me like a juvenile teenager, even though I haven’t done anything wrong and now a menace is out there, probably with a clean smirk on his face whilst I’m paying the price for his crime.
Drumming footsteps from patrolling guards got louder and more frequent; do they want to lead me to insanity? Because just stamping their shiny clean boots on the floor won’t drive me crazy, Oh no.
Seems like I have sat in this stupid room for hours, that rotten screw said I’d only be in here for ten minutes whilst they set up my appointment to meet death! I hope they don’t send in that damn vicar to give me the “last rights”. Vicar, bah! It’s just some old screw wearing a dog collar and bible.
I lost my small faith as soon as I got sent down, God should have protected me and proved my innocence, But oh no, He decides to just sweep Joe Lomas into the dark depths of hell for no apparent reason. What kind of name is Joe Lomas anyway? My parents never really liked me; they just used me as a doll to take their anger out on after major rows.
Couldn’t the guards just give me something to eat before I go? Hunger, Dehydration, Constipation I’ve got the lot, Death is probably the easiest way to stop the pain. For crying out loud they don’t even give you a toilet! And I have even started talking to myself; this room is probably used as a way to drive you crazy before you even go to receive the injection.
What’s that? The small viewing window the guards use is slowly creaking open like a possessed door in a haunted house.
“Joe Lomas, its time…” Here we go, He handcuffed me and dragged my limp body along the infamous mile, trudging along with this guard seemed to last for ages. Just in the distance I could make out a dentist type chair with lots of stern looking men, staring at me with disgust. Them and their cushy jobs, I’d rather be dead than having to sit with them.
They strapped me tight into this uncomfortable chair, like at the dentist but scarier, I’m not here for a regular checkup of my teeth; I’m here to receive an injection to end my innocent life. Suddenly they all left in a hurry, it was comforting to be alone but where did they all go? The chair started to turn towards a large mirror, most likely with those stupid people behind staring at me.
One man wearing some sort of costume you’d find in comic books walked slowly towards my chair, pushing a steel trolley. That lethal needle was somewhere on the trolley, and I could feel the anxiety levels in my body boosting up a notch as he sorted the injection equipment ready for use.
Silence, unable to hear anything but just a small murmur of the doctor, holding the shot that will stop my heart and brain from working. He stabbed it in and pushed the liquid into my body. Cold, tingling sensations rushed up my arm like stampedes of wild animals. Breathing is difficult, but I saw this man running in shouting
“STOP, STOP!” Have they found my innocence?
Copyrighted by gamezfreak 2002©