Jueyu

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-24

"Number 53, time to go."
The voice seemed to steal one's soul. Behind each iron window, countless eyes lurked, yet
at that moment, an inevitable sigh escaped their lips—
death wasn't targeting them. "It's Peng Yuru from cell number six."
Hearing the announcement, everyone realized. In the following seconds, the oppressive, suffocating
morning seemed to thaw instantly, and whispers began to circulate.
Seemingly dissatisfied with the female prisoners' noise, several female guards used stun guns to knock on the doors and windows of the other cells.
The prisoners, who had just become lively, quickly fell silent, as if they hadn't done anything at all. The female guards glanced
meaningfully at the only door they hadn't knocked on, secretly shaking their heads.
In front of a heavy iron door stood two serious-looking men resembling armed police officers, carrying ropes
and shackles. The ropes were new, but one end of the shackles was broken, its chain dangling to the ground—clearly,
recently removed death shackles.
Through the observation hole in the door, one could see that this renowned beauty, famous throughout the entire prison and even the whole of G City
, was pale as if she had applied too much foundation. At this moment, Peng Yuru displayed
a beauty that many domestic actresses could not portray—a poignant beauty.
Click, the door opened.
Peng Yuru slowly combed her long, beautiful hair, which she was always so proud of. On the prison bed beside her lay
a silver-white cheongsam and stockings, and a pair of brand-new strappy high-heeled sandals had been lying there for a long time.
As if stimulated by the sudden sunlight, or as if she had reached her limit, crystal
tears could no longer be held back, flowing down her lightly made-up face, leaving
a faint trace.
"Comrades, please wait a moment, okay?" Peng Yuru said to the judges who entered, almost pleadingly.
The judges exchanged glances and nodded.
"Hurry up, the public trial is at 9:30, and the execution will begin after the parade at 10:30," a female judge said.
"Could you tell me in advance how I'm going to die...?" Peng Yuru asked cautiously.
"Execution by firing squad," the female judge's voice was cold.
The judges left, leaving Peng Yuru alone, lost in thought.
Peng Yuru glanced at the dressing mirror that had been delivered in the early hours of the morning; the LCD screen beside it clearly
showed 6:38.
She looked at her beautiful face, which would soon be gone.
Thinking of the pictures of executions she'd seen online—half a head blown off, rouge standing upright like
a skull—Peng Yuru shuddered.
She lowered her head again, looking at the gray prison uniform she'd been wearing for months.
She figured she'd look even better in it now!
She was determined not to let that terrible thing happen!
But time was of the essence; she didn't have much time to dress up.
Peng Yuru took off her prison uniform, revealing her fair and slender body. This figure, which usually inspired
envy , was no longer a concern; it, like her, would soon become a cold corpse.
Her bra and panties were the ones she'd bought before entering prison, filthy, especially the bra, which was painfully constricting her breasts.
Fortunately, she was about to die, so these minor details didn't matter.
Peng Yuru took off her panties and put on stockings that reached her upper thighs, then slipped
on her cheongsam.
Only a pair of strappy high-heeled sandals remained unworn.
To be honest, strappy high-heeled sandals and stockinged legs didn't seem like a perfect match, but on Peng Yuru,
this beauty, they looked perfectly natural!
The straps crossed and wrapped around her calves, which Peng Yuru tightened, creating an alluring silhouette
against her .
"In a little while, ropes will be tied here too." Peng Yuru actually smiled, not the kind of
bitter smile born of despair and helplessness, nor the kind of nervous laughter born of fear, just a smile, a calm
smile .
She ran her slender, jade-like fingers up her sandal-clad feet, all the way to
her thighs . She felt a perfect tactile sensation from her exceptionally sexy stockings—a kind of pleasure,
a kind of passion.
Her hair was tied up, quite pretty, and importantly, the bailiffs had instructed her to do so to make it easier to lower the gun.
Providing the executioner with convenience was something a death row inmate was supposed to do.
As she checked her makeup one last time, the impatient judges walked in.
Peng Yuru was certain she had seen the two male judges' amazed expressions.
The female judges, on the other hand, looked on with mockery.
"Dead is dead, why dress up so seductively?"
The law cannot transcend human sentiment, and a beautiful female death row inmate is
completely .
Fortunately, by the time Peng Yuru signed the death sentence notice, it was almost over.
As the judges left again, two armed police officers rushed in as if they were on steroids. One of them
pushed Peng Yuru down onto the bed, while the other lifted the hem of her cheongsam.
"What...what is he going to do?" Peng Yuru was terrified. Although she had essentially lost all
dignity , she wasn't prepared for further humiliation.
She had worried for nothing.
The armed police officer who lifted the hem of her cheongsam saw that she wasn't wearing underwear, and his face flushed, but it
quickly disappeared.
The officer said, "Don't move. Now we're going to tie a rope around your thighs."
Peng Yuru felt a tightening on her thighs. She tried to look, but the officer held her down, and she couldn't lift her head.
She felt the rope already wrapped several times around her thighs, which were covered in thin stockings, and tied in a very tight
knot.
Peng Yuru knew that this rope was called a tripwire, used to prevent her from escaping.
Next, her calves were bound. Peng Yuru's hands were also tied behind her back,
and the rope was looped around her neck and under her armpits. When the rope was being tied around her arms, she felt suffocated as she was bound from both above and below
. Once her calves were bound, Peng Yuru's escort and restraint were complete.
The armed police lifted her up and pushed her out the door.
"Reporting to the government, I have one last wish." Peng Yuru saw the judges who had sentenced her to death.
"Speak," said the same cold-spoken female judge.
"I want to make a phone call to my family," Peng Yuru said.
The female judge hesitated for a moment, exchanged whispers with the judges beside her, and then said, "
You may ."
She instructed the armed police to take Peng Yuru to the reception room, where there was a telephone that criminals could use.
"Beep beep beep!" As the phone rang, Peng Yuru smiled.
"Brother Li, I'm about to be executed," Peng Yuru said immediately.
The voice on the other end was clearly surprised: "Today, I was just about to get you out! Okay, I'll notify the prison
right now to postpone the execution! Trust me, your suffering these past few months won't be in vain."
Peng Yuru laughed: "It doesn't matter anymore. Once the death sentence is issued, you can't save me. I'm already
bound hand and foot, about to be put on the execution vehicle. Didn't you want to see me die? Come collect my body at 10:30,
as long as my face isn't badly damaged."
There was a moment of silence on the phone before it said: "Yuru, why don't you give up? I'll come pick you up now..."
Peng Yuru's face changed color: "Brother Li, I paid a lot of money to go to prison for you,
and then paid a lot more to have them sentence me to death on trumped-up charges. Who do you think I did all this for?
If I want to get out, I can get out anytime. Do I need you to come? Let me tell you, it's up to you whether you come or not, I'll
still come!"
Peng Yuru turned around and hung up the phone with her bound hands.
Only the astonished armed police and judges remained.
"Is there a way to die without damaging my head?" Peng Yuru asked casually.
"That's easy. We can either shoot you in the back or shoot you in the neck,"
said a police officer with considerable experience.
"I know about shooting in the back, but what about shooting in the neck?" Peng Yuru asked.
"Nine times out of ten, decapitation," the officer said.
"Okay, you'll be the one to carry out the execution, right?" Peng Yuru asked.
"Yes," the officer said.
"Shoot me in the back of the neck, and I'll tell you my Swiss bank account right now..."
Peng Yuru was finally brought to the public trial. From this angle, she experienced for the first time the helplessness and passion of
a female death row inmate.
The feeling of being pointed at and talked about by millions of people, the feeling of wearing high-heeled sandals and
only being able to walk on her calves because of the ropes on her thighs and calves, the pain of the ropes digging into her flesh, and the powerful hands of the police officer pressing down on her
head.
Wasn't she just tired of living?
She had spent almost all the money: money for the specimen doctor, for the presiding judge, for the plaza department, for
the false witnesses, for her boyfriend, and now for the armed police who would execute her.
Who but someone who didn't want to live would do something so insane? Spending almost everything just
to die a humiliating death?
When the classic announcement, "Take the criminal Peng Yuru to the execution ground for execution by firing squad," rang out,
Peng Yuru collapsed to the ground under the sudden pressure from the armed police behind her.
Actually, she was exhausted.
It had been a long time since she'd felt the wind in a truck. Facing the gentle breeze, Peng Yuru
couldn't help but think that she was just a butterfly among the masses.
The whispers and pointing fingers of others no longer mattered, because she had arrived at the execution ground.
The execution ground was located on a grassy area near a river on the outskirts of the city. Peng Yuru clearly heard the armed police behind her swallow
hard.
"Armed police brother, I heard you always give someone a kick to the leg when you execute them, right?" Peng Yuru
laughed.
"If you cooperate, you don't have to do this," the armed policeman who collected the money said in a low voice. He had just
checked Peng Yuru's bank account on his phone.
"Now I'm at your mercy, until that rifle bullet blows my head off," Peng Yuru said.
The armed policeman looked into the distance; the instructor there had already raised a small red flag.
The armed policeman who collected the money told another officer to step aside, and he carried the lithe Peng Yuru
to .
"Should I lay out a cloth for you?" the armed policeman asked.
"No need," Peng Yuru smiled, looking exceptionally beautiful. "My makeup artist will clean me up."
"I really don't understand you, spending so much money to die, and in such an dishonorable way," the armed policeman said.
"I'm going to die anyway, so it doesn't matter. Just remember, you can only blow my head off, not
explode it ," Peng Yuru said.
"Don't worry, it's my duty. I owe you a favor, after all." The armed policeman finished speaking and shouted,
"Attention!"
Peng Yuru was talking to him when he startled her. Suddenly, she felt a kick to her beautiful leg
, her knees buckled, and she knelt on the ground in front of the pit.
The sensation of those heavy leather shoes on her stockings was very clear.
Peng Yuru fell silent, her heart pounding with anxiety. This wasn't something that could be explained by a mere thought of death;
it was a normal physiological reaction. She even felt a wetness in her lower body.
Click! That was the sound of a gun being loaded…
She felt the coldness of the gun barrel against the back of her fair neck…
Peng Yuru closed her eyes.
Boom! Peng Yuru suddenly felt a sharp pain in her neck, and then felt something
gushing . She felt as if she were on a rollercoaster, first seeing a red light, then a
yellow light.
The red light was blood, the yellow light was the color of the earth.
Peng Yuru's head fell more than five meters away from where she had been kneeling during the execution. She watched from afar as the
armed police officer stopped stepping on her thigh, and her body, decapitated, became unusually agitated. She
clearly saw her body, clad in a cheongsam and stockings, writhing aimlessly on the ground, blood gushing from the
severed , and the straps of her high-heeled sandals, tightly wrapped around her calves, seemed to have come undone.
The armed police officer approached, grabbed Peng Yuru's hair, and Peng Yuru smiled playfully. The officer knew she was still
conscious.
"Want to see your body?" the officer asked.
Peng Yuru closed her eyes, then opened them.
"Okay, I really don't know why there are so few people at the execution ground today, and no one can interfere with my movements."
" I really don't know what kind of arrangements you've made." The armed
police officer , carrying Peng Yuru's head, walked towards her body , which had been headless for only a dozen seconds... ― ...

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