Name: Linda and Christina Bishop
Age: 34(Linda) and 15(Christina)
Sex: F
Description: See image.
Crime: Incestuous relationship. After losing her husband, and unable to find a suitable man, Linda became desperate for love. Her beautiful teenage daughter, having developed a crush on her own mother, seduced her easily. Unfortunately, they were caught having sex in a motel and sentenced to death.

4921

After thirty minutes of scrubbing, mopping, and almost enough water to fill a small swimming pool, Peter’s execution chamber was clean; he inhaled deeply as the scent of bleach and soap rose to his nostrils. It wouldn’t last.

A plot to overthrow the Supreme Leader was foiled, and the perpetrators and their families were to be executed. Peter alone had already executed ninety-seven people that day, and had almost five hundred coming his way over the next few days.

“Next,” he yelled over the intercom.

The door opened and a woman in her twenties, blonde hair in a ponytail, and completely naked save for a pair of glasses on her head, entered. And, judging by her firm, round, belly pregnant and nearly ready to give birth.

Peter felt a slight twinge in his stomach; the woman was almost a spitting image of his own wife, save for the pregnant belly and plump breasts. Such a fate for such a lovely woman was unfair, but Peter already killed several dozen women already, and even a few children. If he did try anything to save her life, his own wife and children would meet her fate instead.

“Over here,” Peter said and pointed towards a large drain. The woman walked with her head down and lips shut; tears dripped from her eyes and each breath grew heavier as she approached the spot. Peter drew a 9mm pistol. “Where do you want it?”

The woman sniffled and looked up. “What?”

“Where do you want me to shoot you? The head or heart?”

She stared at him for a few seconds and then looked away. “Well, I guess if I can choose,” her hands cusped the sides of her belly, “put the first shots in my stomach. Kill my unborn baby first so he doesn’t suffer.” She closed her eyes.

Peter stepped back and fired six shots in a circle around her belly button. She fell to the floor, thrashing and screaming as a crimson puddle formed, and flowed down the drain. She looked up, blood dripping from her mouth. “Please,” she grunted.

Peter silenced her screams with two shots to the forehead. As she pissed and shit on the floor, Peter walked over to a touchscreen on the wall, and confirmed that Katerina Goldstein was deceased. Then he carried her corpse to an oversized garbage shoot, and tossed her down to the street below where several workers waited to load her body on to a truck.

Peter shook his head at the putrid odor now filling the room as he yelled “next” into the intercom.