#;execution

There was no flare, no show to it to kick off the final moments of your beloved, your despised, your only Warden. (Soon to be EX warden). Her face was cold, blank. She’s had hours to accept her fate, to accept the orders. Was she saddened deep down? Betrayed? D i s g u s t e d?

Who cares! She was going to die! And there was n o t h i n g she could do about it! 

It was an assembly line-esque, car upon car, then Symmetra, all in a neat, ever moving row. It was the most one could tell, the room was blindingly white, spotlessly clean. 

The assembly line continued on, on and on. Where were they going? When will she be slaughtered before your eyes? Like so many others? The suspense, suffocating, was it killing you? Was it killing her? Should you demand the death now, or wait in anticipation?  

Finally a flash of color. A familiar glow of blue tackled (the beam of a turret?) the car’s surface, then another, then another, all dancing and coordinating to make the vehicle spotless. If you weren’t so aware of their other uses, it would almost be dazzling.

But alas. 

The next car of the line was similarly buffed, buffed and buffed, the number of streams of lights growing and growing until nearly engulfing the car. There was no steam, no noise, 

But it doesn’t take an idiot to tell something was amiss. 

The lights stopped, and where a vehicle once stood, there was nothing. Not even ash.  The Anticipation, it was suffocating. Were you going to watch your warden be incinerated? Were you going to watch her melt away by the machines she created?

Finally, it was her turn. when beams turned on, she moved fluidly, swayed rhythmically, she was dancing, dodging the beams. Her face was calm, her movements were not of one who has accepted her fate. So she didn’t want to die. 

She wanted to L i v e. She wanted to live. Like all the others she had facilitated the deaths of. Like all those she has executed through contraptions, of scenarios of her own design. She must live, she wished to, she must!

One can not escape their Karma

Like that, her fluid movements became clumsy and jilted. Her feet stuck to the assembly line (magnets?),  requiring more force to step and dodge. It was all a matter of time now, she couldn’t escape death. She couldn’t escape her fate.

A Yelp. One wrong movement, and a laser caught her arm,the one of flesh, severing it cleanly and cauterizing the wound immediately. The limp arm twitch, flesh, muscle, bone melting as lasers focused on it to the point of naught. She was distracted, her focus broken. One by one, the turret’s beams hit her skin, burning her clothes, melting the metal of her remaining arm. 

Her leg was seared off, the screaming only increasing. She was going to die, It was too late. cutting, cutting, cleaning away the bones. one limb, one bit of flesh, it was cut and melted away.

 Until, finally,The laser cut off her head. the screams died, the gurgling of blood replacing her pitiful cries. the beams burned every limb, every piece of her being, until there was nothing left to burn. By the end of the line, there didn’t linger a single piece, not even ash,

With that, the feed ended. The transition of power was complete.

He fell deeper and deeper, to places unknown, to fates unknown. Did he reflect on his action, did he regret them? Did he regret savaging a stranger and pushing him to his doom?  Did he feel anything at all?

When he finally landed, it was in a small, metal encased room, the entrance above closing shut and leaving him in complete darkness. Then, the coils turned on, washing the room in a brilliant red glow. Coils lined the ceiling, the walls, everywhere, burning hot and filling the small room with heat.

He killed to escape the cold right? It was only fitting.

It only took seconds for the room to heat to uncomfortable levels. The Air it self was burning him as he breathed, as he lived, and the hot metal floor was melting through his boots’ soles. Everything was hot, everything was burning. Panic, panic, he had to escape, he had to get out.

Clawing at the walls, trying to find a loose panel, anything, anything to pry and escape from. He got in, he can get out!  But all he met was searing metal,  melding his gloves to his flesh. Everything hurt, everything burned, he could feel his insides cooking and he could only claw helplessly for an escape.

as it dragged on (perhaps it was taking too long?), panels opened up, shooting out bursts of fire and flooding the room with it. Fire, heat coils, hot air, hot hot HOT hot. He cries out in excruciating pain, still trying in vain to escape, running on pure, unadulterated Adrenalin. Even as the fire licked his flesh black and white, sloughing off everything from his bones, he tried, he tried until he buckled, tried until he couldn’t even scream anymore, tried until he was curled up and dead.

The feed continues to be bathed in fire, a moment too long perhaps, before mercifully ending. Even the warden blinked, almost... perplexed, as she dismissed you.

   Down and down and down and down she fell, the armor clad killer slid down what felt like a life time, before landing in a large, dark room. A storage room? A training room?  

Whatever it was, it would soon be her T O M B. 

‘If this was her punishment’, she likely so foolishly thought, ‘ this wasn’t that bad’. A dark room, to die of boredom? Such a pleasant death compared to the one she did to that poor boy. (He was only sixteen! Dead before he was out of high school! Such the tragedy!)

 A Flash, and the room was illuminated! How surprised she was, seeing a room full of herself! Rows upon rows of Black armored robots, All perfectly identical, in both movement and appearance. All moving into a combat ready pose, all looking directly at her. She wasn’t stupid. No, far from it, she knew what this was.

Well, if they wanted a show;

                         SHE’LL GIVE THEM A FUCKING SHOW.

  All at once, they converged, Armies of one and many meeting each other in head to head combat. You hitch your breath, in concern, could she even handle that many? Can she win a war against herself? 

  All worries, were perhaps misplaced. She thought Valiantly, skillfully, like the trained killer she was. She ripped the head off one and used it as a weapon, tear a limb off and used it as a bat. It was bloodless (did that really made it handle-able?)  but no less brutal. She put up a good fight, better then most, better then you expected. She was making steady progress through the numbers.

     But even machines have their limits. The more she fought, the more of her shadows she fought, the harder it got. She knocked down one, two came back, she punched one, she got it back in full from several others. She was being surrounded, she was so beyond her means. She couldn’t win, She couldn’t, She physically couldn’t.  

She tried, she fought back so valiantly, so gosh damn hard. As if, there was some sort of reward for not succumbing to her fate. Clemency? forgiveness? an escape?

No

 One behind her grabbed hold of her arm and r i p p e d it out, flash of sparks of suddenly disconnected cables.So she wasn’t human either.  She yowls angrily in pain, but another grabbed her remaining arm and tore it off as well. She stumbles, the suffering and anger still on her invisible lips. More approached and more of her was torn asunder, breaking off or apart anything they could touch. Her chest piece went flying, a leg, a fist through the screen... Brutalizing her like she brutalized that teenager,

And eventually, the head was popped off,

 thrown carelessly to the side as the clones continued their bloodless carnage.  They didn’t cease until every last piece, every last wire, was torn and made into s c r a p. 

And like that, the feed ends. Did you all, did you all truly, just see some die?

Yes, Yes you did.