In Smyrna, Delaware, the snow had fallen upon the wheat fields and made them look like frosted cereal. In the police car, zooming at a fast clip through the country, Mohammad struggled with his handcuffs.
“You might as well stop fidgeting,” Sergeant Kimberly Fulton said.
Mohammad frowned and knocked his head against the window.
“It’s not but a short drive to the site. We’ll be there in no time,” Corporal Mathias Gorlich said.
The patrol car wrapped around a corner and approached the gallows.
Though they had been reconstructed, they looked better than the original. The wood remained sturdy. The Manila hemp rope had been boiled in order to ensure that it did not stretch or coil. Mohammad’s scowl scrawled across his face. He knew the results of murder, incest, rape, terrorism, pedophilia, and a whole host of other egregious actions that had been carried out in his name. He spit in the dirt as the two police officers removed him out of the squad car. Cameras and lights abounded around this activity with hundreds of people waiting to see the prophet meet his end. The state refused to grant him a final meal. His stomach grew tight and his head remained a bit weary. He looked up at the looped rope. He considered this his worst time to die. There existed so many lives to alter and minds to submit to Allah, he felt.
Now, he would join the millions of people who have been executed by hanging. With each step towards the gallows, he whimpered something or another about Allah. He knew in his consciousness that there would be no Jannah or 72 virgins in the finality and absence of life. He knew that his actions and words had caused both the psychic and physical downfall of billions—and those thoughts pierced through what was left of his mind.
The police officers wrapped the noose around Mohammad’s neck. The cool slice of the winter wind wrapped around Mohammad like a blanket of ice. The rope squeezed around his neck like a boa constrictor. He gulped for a few last precious gasps of air.
He looked at all of the faces before him. Among them was the Governor of Delaware, Barrett Carr. Mohammad had in his mind the deaths of all of the people that had brought him to this lowly stage. Conjured in his thoughts, he envisioned the suffering and dying of the number of lives adversely affected by his ideas and acts. Internet sites streamed the preparation of the execution, but were instructed to not capture the moment when Mohammad would drop. Podcasters covered each and every revelation that arose from the circumstances. Their microphones and cameras recorded the prophet in his last hour.
The moment for the extinction of Mohammad was nigh. First, a reason for execution was announced by Governor Carr.
“For his most odious offenses across the centuries, the Prophet Mohammad will be no more in a matter of seconds. His vicious record demonstrates just what happens when mysticism is ingrained in the mind of a brutish rogue. As he is executed on this day, let us remember that like all faiths, they are destroyers of thought and therefore the physical world. Mohammad has led those who have followed him to carry out horrors that correspond to this final day of reckoning. In his death, he will be seen as the harsh knave that he was in life.” Governor Carr motioned for the two executioners to approach the switch to allow the prophet to drop. In seconds, Mohammad had descended from the noose and his body was detached from his soul. No afterlife, like everyone, would be waiting for him or perpetual damnation. It would just be the cessation of Mohammad’s existence.
The wind howled as his body swung back and forth.