I'll give this a shot.

Name: Gwen Stacy
Age: 19
Sex: F
Description: See image
Crime: Murder, Vigilante
Scenario: Captured and convicted of the murder of Peter Parker, as well as being an unlicensed Vigilante. Sentenced to death.

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Pattie Lombardi was slowly marched from her cell, deep in the castle. Her wrists were bound behind her back, and she had been stripped of all clothing the evening before. She was trying not to shiver as she was led up. It was cold in the dungeon, on purpose of course, and it wasn't exactly warm outside. And then there was the fear. Mrs Lombardi knew she was going to die. She had been told of this the day before, after she was tried - in abstentia. The Royal court did not need the accused present to end their life. She had given aid to traitors attempting to remove the crown from the shoulder of the current sovereign - along with the head. And while Pattie didn't lift a finger to try and kill them herself, she had let the would be traitors stay over night in her house.

And now she had to pay.

The sun blinded her as she was pushed out into the public eye. The gate lead right to a stage, and she stumbled across it, barefoot. The heat of the sun warmed her skin even as the cold air outside bit into her skin. There would be no speech. There would be chance for her to appeal. She had been gagged before being lead up. A ball, strapped into her mouth. All she could do was moan and whine in protest as she was lead before the crowd.

Jeering started, yells and shouts. "Traitor. Traitor. Death to the traitor!" The called out. The screamed for her to pay. There was one of the guards, reading the charges. Aiding and abetting a known terrorist. Conspiracy to commit regicide. The punishment was public execution.

She was crying now. Shivering, shaking, unable to run away. The two guards on either side had a tight grip on her arms. Her knees clattered against each other as she shook her head, side to side. It was there, in front of her. The method of execution

The Spike.

She was shaking uncontrollably now as she was dragged forward. The metal pole stood proud and high, polished to shine in the morning son, facing the crowd. As with all traitors, she would be impaled on the pipe, and left on display for the crowds for days to come. There was a swift kick as she was driven to her knees. She screamed, and thrashed, but it was of no use. The pike was about as high as her chest now, which was heaving as she started to hyperventilate.

A third man approached. Like the guards, he too wore a hood, but while theirs were red, his as black. He was massive, and he moved to straddle the woman, one leg coming down on either side of her. Unable to resist, Pattie felt a hand sink into her hair, pulling her head up. She could see the crowd now, as tears streamed down her face. There was a sharp jerk, and her head was pulled forward. Her toes started ot kick and she tried to wiggled, side to side. It didn't work.

cold pricked her, just under the chin. She could feel it! The tip of the spoke. "NOOOOOO" she tried to scream, but it came out asa muffled moan. There was a sudden warmth between her legs as her head was held in place. Fear ripped through her. It was real, this was real. This was happening. She pissed herself, and one of the guards made a disgusted noise. It was the last noise she heard.

There was a sudden, harsh slam downward, on the back of her head. The force was great enough that her skull was driven down on the pike with brutal efficiency. It split up, into her mouth from below, and continued on, probing the roof of her mouth, up, into her skull, into her brain. Pattie Lombardi's eyes went wide, and then the spike split out the top of her skull. Her body thrashed again, but the guards stepped back. After a moment, she grew still.

And the crowd went wild.