That Little Red Button

“It is important to review the details of the contract before you sign.” I should have paid attention to those prophetic words. I should have never agreed to listen to the pitch in the first place.

“The party of the first part, that is you, Mr. Smith, also known as the payee, agrees to the following. By pressing (or activating) the red button, you are solely responsible for the death of one person on Planet Earth. You will never know who this person is, where they are, or exactly when or how they died. They may be an infant, a child, a woman, a man, or geriatric. They may die even if you do not press the red button. But, they will die if you do. The party of the second party, the person to die, also known as the damned, has not agreed to anything and is not even knowledgeable of their part in this contract. They will never know the connection of your action and their death. They will never be informed of your participation. No one will ever inform them or their family of these details. Essentially, they will know or learn nothing.”

I was just about to leave, when he continued.

“Upon pressing the small red button, you, the payee, will receive one million dollars in one hundred dollar bills immediately. Upon payment, with no receipt, our business will conclude and you agree never to speak of your participation in this arrangement to anyone, at any time. Do you understand the exact details of the contract? If so, Mr. Smith, please affix your signature to receive your money. The sooner you sign, the sooner you will become wealthy.”

That was it. All so tidy. I press a button, someone dies, and I am rich. It was all so easy, so sterile, and so antiseptic. No one would ever know. Could I live with murder? Worse yet, could I live with being a paid murderer? One million dollars to blindly kill someone with friends, a job, a family. I needed the money, but did I need it that badly? I have bills. I have a family. I want to be important. I want it all. But, is it worth the price?

I took a few deep breaths. Press the damn button! Press it! What was I waiting for?

It was one of those weird out-of-body experiences where you get to see yourself. The paramedic finally gave up with CPR. I heard him tell the other paramedic to note the time of death. He even confirmed my stroke and seizure for his report.

I saw my own death and no one saw me see me die.

I take that back. Someone saw me.

I saw the contract man walk up to me (or what was left of me) to inform me of my official passing. He informed me that he also represented a group of people who he offered the same red button contract. I believe, apparently, in my hesitation, another payee acted to receive his one million dollars and kill before I could act to receive my million dollars and kill.

I asked him who the other payee was. His only reply, “As per the contract, we never inform the damned the connection to such action and their untimely death. However, we will inform you of your required presence in accordance with your agreed recent moniker.”

I never saw the two demons approach to take me away until it was too late.