Here's some flash fiction, which could also be subtitled 'musings on death row':
Killing For Kindness
Killing for kindness. Now there’s a strange little saying whatever way you look at it. Take a broken-backed dog lying in the gutter, mewling in agony and fear. Well, putting the poor thing out of its misery is the right thing to do, ain’t it? No one’s gonna disagree. Are they?
But when it’s a human, why’d everyone get so friggin’ righteous? Anti-abortionists? Pro-life supporters? Human Rights Activists? What’s so unique about the human race that they should be treated any different than any other kinda meat?
They’re hurting, put them down, I say.
That old guy?
He was sitting in his own piss, surrounded by cats that had nothing to eat but the gunk growing mushrooms between his toes. So what if I went into his scummy little house and put the blunt side of a claw hammer between his eyes? It was a kindness, wasn’t it? Put the poor thing out of its misery, didn’t I? Plus, I gave the cat's something tastier to feed on.
So why all the fuss?
Why am I a monster?
I’m not poor. Definitely more than a thing. An’ I sure as hell am anything but miserable.
So why are people now wanting me dead?