Final Hours, Part Three

That night, Clara dreamt of death. The flash of finely sharpened steel reflecting the sun, surrounded by a halo of bright red blood as it bit into flesh. The stiff, reflexive muscular contractions of bodies being mortally damaged. Wide, frozen eyes staring into eternity, mouths stretched in screams. She dreamt of massive piles of decomposing meat, buzzing with flies and decay, bodies bloating with gas and skin sloughing off muscle and eyes bulging out of sockets, grotesquely fat tongues poking out between fish like lips. A vast nightmare landscape of suffering and agony stretched to the horizon.

She woke up with a start, gasping and shivering, with her slender body covered in sweat. The sun streamed through the cell block window, casting a ray of light across the cot. Clara rubbed her eyes, looked over and saw Jack still sprawled out, sleeping like a babe. His cock tented the thin bed sheet in a raging morning erection. Gently, Clara pulled the sheets off his slumbering body and leaned over it, marvelling at the sight. It stood up with a gentle curve, reaching almost 5 inches from balls to tip. She placed both hands around it and slowly started to jerk him off. He mumbled something incoherent and stretched his arms, before opening his eyes to the sight of Clara intensely stroking his erect penis. She leaned over and began to suck him off, her little tongue flicking around his dickhead, which began to leak precum.
Jack arched his legs and pressed his pelvis up, forcing Clara to take his full length into her mouth. She felt his dick twitch, then tasted the salty-sweetness of his cum burst onto her tongue.


The girl disengaged her mouth and straddled him once more, this time stretching her pussy lips apart with her fingers. "Lets have sex", she stated, almost as if it was an order rather than a request. Jack smiled, and pulled her down into a kiss. Clumsily, he maneuvered his still raging erection into her slit and began to pump up and down. Clara gasped as he broke through her hymen, and bit her lip in pain. Blood trickled down from her pussy and Jack slowed down, a concerned look crossing his face. "Are you okay?" She nodded her head, and placed both hands on his bare chest. "Keep going", she said breathlessly. She began to gyrate her hips, stirring his 12 year old penis inside her womb. Clara's pussy clamped down tight on Jack's cock, and for the second time that morning, he emptied another wad of cum from his ballsack. They collapsed on top of each other, both sweaty and flush with life. Clara kissed Jack passionately on the lips, feeling his heartbeat pound away through her flat chest.

The breakfast bell rang, and the couple lazily rolled off the cot and slipped on their underwear. They joined the rest of the crowd at the cafeteria, piling their plates with bacon strips, bowls of cereal, and toast. Having sex for the first time had made them hungry, and the quickly wiped their plates clean. Then, they made their way outside. It was a beautiful day, with barely a cloud in the sky. A soft breeze rolled across the complex, ruffling Clara's boyish haircut. The two kids strolled around the yard, content in simply being around each other. They made no attempt to talk about the mid day execution roll call.

As they walked, Clara could see other kids pair up. It was apparent they weren't the only ones wishing to experience sex before it was too late. They walked past a hispanic boy passionately kissing a pale ginger girl, his hands slipping into her panties. A few meters away, a raven haired girl was rubbing her pussy across the face of an tanned asian girl, who was desperately shlicking her exposed slit. Behind a tree, a muscular black boy with cornrows was being sucked off by a slim looking blonde boy with freckles. The patrolling guards simply stood by and watched, their faces expressionless behind mirrored shades and helmets.

The morning hours passed by in what seemed like minutes. Before they knew it, the clock read 11:59, and the convicts were now once again lined up in a neat square, surrounded by guards and waiting with baited breath. Mr. Bronksy once again came out and stood in front of the young crowd, dressed in the same drab business suit and tie. "It is now mid day, and I will announce the names of our first round of convicts", he spoke through a microphone. He reached into his pants pocket and retrieved a folded sheet of paper. He unfolded it, and began to read names off.

"Anette Rosenfeld, Brian Wachowski, Adam Williams, Tyrese Gibbons, Renee Espinoza". With each name announced, the unlucky prisoner trudged forward, their faces filled with misery. Some froze on the spot, and had to be dragged forward by the guards, none of whom were gentle. As the names rang out, Clara felt her heartrate increase. "Carl Sorenson, Lucy DeSouza, Naoko Borodin, Clara Hoffman, Jack Neller". Clara felt Jack's fingers tighten around hers as they heard both their names called. For a moment, Clara couldn't move, shocked by the sudden realization their lives would not progress into the afternoon. Jack pushed forward, dragging Clara with him as he walked to the line up of convicts standing in front of Mr. Bronksy. He looked down at them, his face emotionless.
"You will now make your way to the execution center, please follow the guards and do not attempt to escape. The collars around your necks will administer a knockout dose, and when you wake up we will make an example of you that will be far more painful than the standard execution". With a curt nod to the guards, Mr. Bronksy turned and walked back to the concrete bunker.

The armed men surrounded the 10 convicts and shoved them forward towards the same bunker. The kids began to walk slowly, each one intensely aware of every sensation. Their lifespan had been cut down from years to minutes with the stroke of a pen and a push of a button. Then, they were there, in front of the mysterious concrete bunker. The lead guard swiped an ID card through the keylock, and opened the door. Cool air blasted across sweating young bodies, causing many to begin shivering. The group shuffled inside, and the door closed behind them with a heavy thunk, sealing off the outside. The interior of the bunker was simply one large hangar bay, cast out of bare concrete and lit by harsh CFL strips. A large laundry basket was rolled out, and the lead guard turned to the convicts. "Take off your clothes and place them in the basket", he ordered the children. Slowly, the kids stripped their underwear and dropped them into the laundry basket. They stood there, nude and awkward, some of them still self conciously covering up their private parts.

A whirring sound echoed through the cavernous room, and ten poles slowly rose from the floor. Made of polished metal, they gleamed under the lights. Each one was 10 feet tall, and each equipped with a single thin nylon noose hanging down from the top. "Stand in front of a pole, and place the noose around your neck!", the same guard barked. The convicts froze. "You do not want to test my patience", the guard continued, a mean growl crawling into his voice. Jack was the first to walk forward to a pole. He stood in front of it, raised his arm and grabbed the noose, pulled it down and placed it around his neck. There was another motorized whirr, and the noose pulled up snugly under his jaw. He stood there, almost on his toes, his adams apple bobbing nervously. Clara joined Jack, taking the pole besides his and repeating the process. One by one, each prisoner chose their pole, letting the machine tighten each rope around their necks. Within two minutes, all ten convicts were noosed. The guards came around and tied each kid's arms behind their backs, and stepped back.

Clara could feel every movement of the nylon rope against her soft neck. Her heart pounded away, and her skin pricked with sweat. She turned her head and looked at Jack. The boy had his eyes closed, and was mumbling a prayer repeatedly under his breath. She could see his chest rise and fall rapidly, as if he was on the cusp of hyperventilating. An alarm bell buzzed, and the guards turned and left through the door. The kids were now alone, with only the electronic stare of HD videocameras and their final thoughts racing through their minds to keep them company. Clara stared down at her feet, thinking of her mother, father and sister. The girl felt tears rise up in her eyes. She missed them, and wishing intensely to see their faces one last time.

Then, the poles made one more whirring noise, and the ropes jerked up, pulling each convict off their feet. A high pitched chorus of squeaks, gasps, and gurgles erupted as each kid had the nylon noose slip deep into their neckflesh, cutting off oxygen and blood to the brain. Skinny legs flexed and kicked, desperate for a foothold that would never appear. Clara felt burning pain cut into her neck as her noose tightened inexorably. She made an effort to stay still, but her dumb animal brain took over, causing her to lash out, twisting and jerking every single muscle she had in a futile attempt to escape from her fate. The average hanging victim, if their noose is set up correctly will lose conciousness within 10 seconds of suspension. Clara was no different, being an average 11 year old girl. Her body went limp as she blacked out, her limbs shivering and twitching. Piss dribbled down her coltish legs as she lost control of her bladder.

Jack was strong and healthy, and for whatever reason the noose had not tightened properly. The boy was still concious by the three minute mark. He twisted in agony, his lips drawn back in a pain filled scowl. Saliva dripped from his mouth as he clenched his teeth, sweat dripping from his forehead and torso. His muscular legs kicked and bicycled. Jack's mind buzzed with terror and pain. His nose began to drip with blood as the pressure rose in his head, and his tongue pushed out between his darkened purple lips, drooling across his chest. The boy tried to turn his head to look at Clara one last time. He could only catch a glimpse of her dangling body, her limbs stretched out rigidly. Jack knew she was long gone. Finally, he too lost conciousness, his legs slowing and arms dropping to his side. The kids were left on the poles for 20 minutes as their necks slowly stretched under the weight of their bodies. The poles whirred again, red LED lights blinking as each one automatically lowered the corpses to the concrete floor.

William Bronksy walked into the execution chamber and surveyed the scene. Guards picked up limp bodies, cutting away the nylon ropes and carelessly tossing each corpse into a black, unmarked body bag. The lead guard walked up to him and saluted.
"All 10 convicts have been confirmed to be deceased", he reported briskly. Bronksy smiled thinly. "A job well done, Reyes", the supervisor said, a tone of professional satisfaction coming through. "We're well on track for our yearly quota, keep it up and you'll see a nice Christmas bonus." Reyes smiled and nodded, then turned back to the body bags. "Lets go, people!", he barked. "I want these stiffs in the freezer room right now!"

A week passed. The supermarket buzzed with people shopping for the weekend.
A young girl walked with her mother in hand down the meat aisle. She paused in front of a refrigerator door and stared up, wide eyed. A row of limbless, headless torsos hung from hooks, covered in plastic wrap. The mother paused and watched her daughter. "This is what happens to naughty little girls and boys", the mother said gently. The girl turned back, a worried expression crinkling her round, soft face. "Am I a naughty girl?" she said, worried. "Oh no, you're an angel", the mother laughed. "Now lets go, daddy is waiting for us outside".