"Is there anything that you wish to talk about, my son?" The young Priest said, trying not to noticeably point out that the young man sitting across from him and eating his dinner would be dead within the hour. Unless. Unless that magical and equally as rare phone call came from the Governor, pardoning the convicted mass murderer. The young man looked up at the young Priest, brown eyes staring through brown lashes. Unconsciously the Priest held his small bible as if it were a shield, warding off some malignant force.

Outside the cell were two guards, constantly watching what was going on. They had brought the killer's last meal nearly half an hour ago--the Priest soon followed after that. Inside the cell, the furnishings were sparse, as much a prison cell as could be expected. The lighting was bare, minimum. It cast a halo around the Priest and murderer, lighting nothing outside of the solitary bulb's influence. The outlying fringes of the cell were dimly lit by the lights along the corridor. It was enough to give the impression that they were alone, just a man of life and a man of death.

"Ya' know, Father, I hate this kind of food," he said, motioning with his fork to the food arranged before him, his last meal. "Yet I ordered it as my last meal," a pause as the man apparently thought while chewing his food and reached to sip from a small glass of red wine. "Why do you think I did any of it?" His voice surpassed his years, the coldness of the murderer's voice seemed like a cold hand on the back of the Priest's neck. Goose bumps broke out on his body and he reached a hand up to rub his neck, more to calm himself than anything else.

"It is not my place to lay blame or judge those who commit wrongs. I administer as much peace and happiness to those around me in the time I have been given." The young man raised a glass of wine to his lips and drank, listening to the words and meanings of the Priest. A silence descended over the unlikely pair as the murderer continued to eat his food.

"And you believe that? No blames...amazing. Do you know how old I am, Priest?" The murderer asked, never looking up and continuing to eat his last meal. The priest thought for a few seconds.

"No, no...my son, I do not know that." The Priest replied, the young man letting out a guttural sound and shrugging his shoulders.