A pile of votes appear in front of the Sergeant, votes he quickly counts. When he's done, he stands up and looks at them. For a moment the silence is thick, he looks at the clock again.
[The clock shows 11:57 AM when the bailiffs enter their room, their faces looking just like the Sergeant's: no distinguishable features, due to the shadows covering their faces. The Sergeant points at Mira, who steps back, tensing and looking for any escape routes. The bailiffs, undeterred and fearless, grab her from the arms, pulling to drag her towards the entrance of the trial room.
Smirking, Mira struggles, getting an arm out of one of the bailiff's grip, she shoves the other against the tribune, the wood shaking and creaking under the weight of the bailiff. Pleased and thinking she was making progress, she punches the other in the gut and runs towards the door--
--until she's flung back. The Sergeant got off his spot, walking quickly towards her and holding a hand in front of him. With a flick, Mira levitates a few inches over the ground, as if she's being grabbed by the back of her jacket. Without nary a glance at the rest, the Sergeant leaves the courtroom, Mira floating behind him.
The police station is right in front of the courtroom, and there's no agent in sight. Without anyone to stop him, and with the other arm extended towards the rest of the participants, the Sergeant enters a large room, barren and very gloomy: the execution room. A large electrical chair is in the exact center of the room, ancient and decrepit. When Mira sees the electric chair, Mira struggles again, trying to reach the floor with her feet, but an electrical arch comes out of the Sergeant's hand, hitting her right on the forehead, stunning her. That moment is enough for the Sergeant to fling her onto the chair, the restraints snapping onto Mira as if the chair itself is alive and eager to get its prey]
For the crime of murder, you have been sentenced to death. The world will mourn your death for a few minutes, and then life will go on. Let that be your last thought. Goodbye.
[With a flick of a hand, the chair activates. The noise fills the room, wild, threatening to pierce everyone's eardrums. Mira immediately starts shaking on her seat, for a moment she tries to grip the armrests of the chair, but it feels like her fingers aren't cooperating, like something wants her to not show even the smallest bit of resistance. Despite her movements for a moment she sees the Sergeant, standing right in front of her, hands behind his back. No doubt it's him, he's the one denying her even a moment of reprieve. For a second she holds his stare despite her movements, looking at him straight at where she's sure his eyes are, and chuckles. Her soft laughter sounds unnatural, almost inintelligible among the electricity, but it's there, one last show of defiance before her mind starts getting clouded.
The moments of lucidity lasted only a few seconds, but Mira's body kept moving under the electricity's control for what seemed much longer. After a minute or so of continuous electricity, the chair turns off, releasing the still smoking body of Mira. The Sergeant approaches and crouches to take a good look at her face. He seems to be thinking. Whatever crossed his mind he doesn't reveal, he just stands up and addresses everyone else]
It's over. You all fulfilled these four days' events in an admirable way. I'd even dare to say some of you surpassed my expectations. You are such a promising group of people...some more than others, from what I saw...
[The sentence isn't completed. He gestures at the door of the police station]
I'm sure you're anxious to return home, but can you give me a moment? I need to think.
[Once everyone leaves the execution room, the door slams shut, leaving the Sergeant and Mira's body inside. Looks like all you can do for now is wait.
[ waver forces himself to look. he refuses to turn away for a second, even though it's painful to see someone die in front of him for the umpteenth time.
once it's over, he sighs, a thousand times more exhausted than before. ]
Perhaps there was something to her saying she was tougher than she looked all along, because she doesn't so much as flinch. It might actually be kind of unsettling, how neutral her expression is during the whole thing.
Once it's over and done with, she doesn't make a sound as she exits the room. It isn't until the door slams shut that she finally does, giving a long sigh as she flops back against the nearest wall.]
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EXECUTION: THE OLD CLASSIC
Smirking, Mira struggles, getting an arm out of one of the bailiff's grip, she shoves the other against the tribune, the wood shaking and creaking under the weight of the bailiff. Pleased and thinking she was making progress, she punches the other in the gut and runs towards the door--
--until she's flung back. The Sergeant got off his spot, walking quickly towards her and holding a hand in front of him. With a flick, Mira levitates a few inches over the ground, as if she's being grabbed by the back of her jacket. Without nary a glance at the rest, the Sergeant leaves the courtroom, Mira floating behind him.
The police station is right in front of the courtroom, and there's no agent in sight. Without anyone to stop him, and with the other arm extended towards the rest of the participants, the Sergeant enters a large room, barren and very gloomy: the execution room. A large electrical chair is in the exact center of the room, ancient and decrepit. When Mira sees the electric chair, Mira struggles again, trying to reach the floor with her feet, but an electrical arch comes out of the Sergeant's hand, hitting her right on the forehead, stunning her. That moment is enough for the Sergeant to fling her onto the chair, the restraints snapping onto Mira as if the chair itself is alive and eager to get its prey]
For the crime of murder, you have been sentenced to death. The world will mourn your death for a few minutes, and then life will go on. Let that be your last thought. Goodbye.
[With a flick of a hand, the chair activates. The noise fills the room, wild, threatening to pierce everyone's eardrums. Mira immediately starts shaking on her seat, for a moment she tries to grip the armrests of the chair, but it feels like her fingers aren't cooperating, like something wants her to not show even the smallest bit of resistance. Despite her movements for a moment she sees the Sergeant, standing right in front of her, hands behind his back. No doubt it's him, he's the one denying her even a moment of reprieve. For a second she holds his stare despite her movements, looking at him straight at where she's sure his eyes are, and chuckles. Her soft laughter sounds unnatural, almost inintelligible among the electricity, but it's there, one last show of defiance before her mind starts getting clouded.
The moments of lucidity lasted only a few seconds, but Mira's body kept moving under the electricity's control for what seemed much longer. After a minute or so of continuous electricity, the chair turns off, releasing the still smoking body of Mira. The Sergeant approaches and crouches to take a good look at her face. He seems to be thinking. Whatever crossed his mind he doesn't reveal, he just stands up and addresses everyone else]
It's over. You all fulfilled these four days' events in an admirable way. I'd even dare to say some of you surpassed my expectations. You are such a promising group of people...some more than others, from what I saw...
[The sentence isn't completed. He gestures at the door of the police station]
I'm sure you're anxious to return home, but can you give me a moment? I need to think.
[Once everyone leaves the execution room, the door slams shut, leaving the Sergeant and Mira's body inside. Looks like all you can do for now is wait.
The clock says 12:00 PM. Noon.]
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once it's over, he sighs, a thousand times more exhausted than before. ]
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Alrighty then.
[ Also that shit's creepy and he's glad he didn't try anything so far. But they really need to get out of here. Seriously. ]
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Perhaps there was something to her saying she was tougher than she looked all along, because she doesn't so much as flinch. It might actually be kind of unsettling, how neutral her expression is during the whole thing.
Once it's over and done with, she doesn't make a sound as she exits the room. It isn't until the door slams shut that she finally does, giving a long sigh as she flops back against the nearest wall.]
...I hate waiting.
[Is that really all she has to say?]