Snuffing Julie

The woman on the screen was striking. A caption told the audience she was Lanora Bedlam, a dancer from Hartford, Connecticut, and she was nineteen years old. Thick, bushy eyebrows adorned her sultry brown eyes, and her pouty lips were pressed in a line of gritty determination on her oval shaped face. Completing the package was her sturdy frame and athletic build. Attired only in yoga shorts and a sports bra, little was left to the imagination, and Julie found herself admiring this girl's toned figure.

A horn sounded and the woman on the screen sprung into action like she was shot from a cannon. She sprinted across a narrow beam, thick, muscular legs pumping hard, driving her forward with surprising speed, her head up and her half pony whipping in the wind behind her. She didn’t even look down to secure her footing; her spatial awareness was astounding, and when she reached the end of the beam she leapt out into the expanse before her without any hesitation.

The young woman floated through the air for an almost impossible length of time before snaring a rope and swinging forward, using her legs to generate kinetic energy. She then flung herself up and caught a series of rungs above her. It was not your typical monkey bars at the middle school jungle gym, but rather loosely hung tubing with several foot gaps in between. Lanora glided across the open space, her hands releasing and grabbing rungs with rousing rapidity. The teenage dancer made impressively short work of the obstacle before tossing herself to a wall with a series of footholds and handles on her left.

The wall was built with a slight incline, leaving its challenger dangling over a series of whirring buzz saws. Some of the grips were also interspersed with circular saws, blades spinning menacingly. As Lenora worked her way across the obstacle the announcers on TV explained this was the first show to test the new euthanasia laws. “The letter of the law… the way it’s written, our legal team believes it’s open to some interpretation,” a man said to the audience as this scantily clad teenage girl reached for her next handgrip.

She was nearly across the wall when she made her first misstep. Perhaps a bit too eager to be past this deadly challenge, Lanora overextended her right leg and a saw blade drew blood from the inside of her thigh. It may have been a superficial wound, but Lanora reeled from it, lost her footing entirely, and as she pulled herself frantically back to the wall she failed to notice another saw placed directly in front her midriff. Fast, vicious teeth chewed deep into her belly and the poor teen screamed.

“Oh, a grave error there,” one of the announcers commented. His compatriot added, “She’ll need to clear the rest of the course to receive medical attention. Let’s see how she fares on the boards.”

Lanora regained some of her composure and moved the rest of the way across the wall, retaining a surprising amount of grace. The young woman leapt from the wall to a horizontal floating board tied so that it dangled just within reach of her outstretched arms. It was roughly eighteen inches wide and seventy-two inches long, and to progress Lanora had to throw herself forward using only the strength in her arms, then catch the board a couple inches farther along, and repeat.

The camera zoomed in on the teen’s bare midsection as she maneuvered and Julie saw spurting blood and some pinkish tubes bulging from the gash, and she said aloud, “Oh shit, is that her intestines?”

No one was in her bedroom to answer her, but one of the announcers said, “It appears Lanora has some of her small intestines protruding from that injury she sustained. We’ll have to see how this affects her run.”

“We’ll have to see how this affects her run,” Julie repeated incredulously.

Lanora’s charming face expressed nothing but serenity and focus, even as the camera showed the audience that if she fell now she’d end up in a meat grinder. Julie saw some of the girl’s blood dripping into the hungry machine. The dancer reached the end of the first board and timed her leap to the second. It was a flawless transition, and she scooted across the second board, and then the third.

At last she had some reprieve as she landed on a narrow stage set before her next obstacle. A series of padded platforms were spaced out ahead of her, each slanting inward and arranged so she’d need to hop to the left, then the right, and continue in this fashion to clear a total of twelve leaps. The inclines would ensure each jump would need to be performed summarily. Beneath them a series of spiked rods awaited, looking to reward contestants for their failure.

Lanora looked down and scowled at her entrails, then gently prodded them, pushing them back into her belly.

“Oh, I don’t think you’re supposed to do that,” one of the announcers exclaimed.

Drawing a deep breath, Lanora began. Her first jump was strong, and she planted her left foot on the soft padding of the first platform, then pushed off with a powerful burst and planted her right foot on the next set of padding. As her injured thigh absorbed the impact and tried to spring her forward, her falter was immediately apparent. The girl came up short of her next target and she hit the padding with her upper torso, grasped flailingly for some lifeline that didn’t exist, and spun off the platform to the spikes below.

She fell back first and was impaled in seven different places. Her left thigh was lanced down near her knee. Her lower belly just above her right hip, the middle of her gut to the left of her navel, and the right side of her stomach all were pierced. Her left shoulder, her ribs below her left breast, and the center of her right tit had blood soaked steel rising up through them.

Drones provided a dozen different camera angles, including a close up of the dying girl's face. She did not appear ready to accept her fate. Her thick brow furrowed and her lips pursed as she grabbed onto the spike running through the middle of her belly and the one protruding from the right side of her chest and tried to pull herself up. She moved perhaps an inch upwards before wailing in agony and frustration and falling back.

Her head jerked around madly, looking for some way out of this terrible trap, her once composed and fierce brown eyes now wide and wild with panic. Julie saw that some of the girl's entrails were spilling out of her again, and blood was beginning to drip from her mouth and nose as she cried for help.

The announcers were explaining that for contractual reasons Lanora would need to remain on the spikes until she was dead, and Julie was awe-struck, flabbergasted, but most of all mesmerized. She could not believe they were actually letting this beautiful, healthy young woman die for no real reason at all. Her life was being snuffed out for the world's entertainment.

It was the most horrifying, awful thing she had ever seen, but it captivated her in ways she didn't understand. That night she lie awake, touching herself and picturing Lanora's horrified facial expressions that she had made as her life slowly spilled out of her, and at twelve years old Julie had her first orgasm.