The Execution of Dorothy Saotome - Around the World...

02. AROUND THE WORLD IN 60 SECONDS

With the trial finished, Dorothy Saotome stood...unmoving, just for a moment. And in the blink of an eye, she was gone with a quiet gust of air, sucking her into a ceiling vent and toward her final resting place.



When she landed, it hurt. The vent dispensed Dorothy into a school desk with a sickening crack, and within seconds, chains begin to whip around her arms and legs. The desktop fell into her lap, clicking into place with quiet resignation. For a few seconds, it was silent. She was in a classroom, but unlike the other executions, she wasn't alone. Every seat was filled with an average looking boy or girl, except--except two. Two empty seats. *Them.* She couldn't seem to pull her eyes away from those empty, barren seats. She could barely focus on the others, who all seemed to be children. They were children. A bead of sweat rolled down the Polyglot's forehead, dripping off her chin into her lap. Despite everything, this was too real; it was coming back to her. There was no Ruruko to protect her, this time. The flourescent lights above her were too hot, too bright, and suddenly...they weren't. It took a few seconds for her to realize that the lights had gone off. And with a quiet whirr, the blackboard in the room melted away, revealing...a thin yellowed screen, with two shadow figures behind it. They were puppets, but...of who? It seemed only Dorothy knew, as she let the word slip out.



"Papa?" To her, it was undeniable. She didn't remember him, but...when the puppets were replaced with silhouettes of cars, she understood. She watched as the vehicles careened into one another silently and awkwardly, like a poor theatrical production.



From the Elimination Panel, some of you...couldn't help it. The absurdity of it all was comical. A quiet giggle broke out, then ceased immediately; it was followed by the nervous, uncomfortable laughter of several others. Then, they fell silent once more.



But as Dorothy sat in the desk, it grew all too loud. One by one, the children opened their mouths...and began to play the recorded giggle of one of the contestants. Then they began to vary, all seeming to sport laughs and giggles different in pitch, tempo, intensity...it was overwhelming. Her head began to spin, but after a few moments, she was brought back to reality by the rough sensation of scraping across her cheek. A drop of blood trickled down her face, the graze mingling with sweat and stinging ever so slightly. Dorothy looked up, but what awaited her was better left unseen. The screen had been lifted now, and three figures stood behind it, each with arms full of rocks: Kaneko, Fumiko, and her father...who seemed to have a large red seam across his torso, as if he had been cut in twain. Each one was silent, yet grinning. And Dorothy's heart began to race.



Rocks began to collect around her now, as her trio of loved ones began to throw more frequently, harder, and faster. She had one eye swollen shut; the rest had merely hit her arms and legs, causing small knicks and cuts. Painful, but not life threatening. In the back of her mind, something began to nag. The laughing...was lighter, now. Now there were voices and words in between the chaos, each one speaking in a language she understood.

"Busca."

"抬头。"

"찾다."

"Aufblicken!"

"Look up!"



And then, in unison, the three figures in front of Dorothy spoke something...foreign to everyone, spectators included.



Except Dorothy, who froze upon hearing the words.

"How did you--" But then it registered. Her head snapped upward.



Above her was a small hole in the ceiling, a blue-and-green painted boulder, spinning faster with every passing second. It appeared to grow larger as it tore through the only thing holding it up, and finally, it was seconds from dropping. Dorothy Saotome was going to be crushed.



Or was she? The chains seemed to shatter as she gave a final pull against them, and the Polyglot was propelled from the seat. With an impressive roll, she spun to face the monstrous thing, it looming high, large, and menacing behind her. The desk had been crushed, as had several of the students near it...thankfully, the smell of motor oil probably meant they were robotic. Sorry, Koneko.



There was no time to contemplate. The globe was rolling toward Dorothy now, gaining speed like it had before. She didn't have much time. Turning back to face her former family, she hurdled through the opening past them and sent Kaneko and her father tumbling to the ground; her father split in half, and Kaneko's head rolled off. ...Dummies. Just dummies. Dorothy barely suppressed a scream. As she looked forward, she saw what they had been blocking. A large pathway, big enough for her...but big enough for the boulder. It stretched onward into darkness. But as the rolling ball of death crashed through Fumiko, what choice did she have? So she ran. Dorothy Saotome sprinted forward at high speed, onward, onward into the awaiting embrace of restful dark...



After a while, her eyes adjusted, as did...the camera that seemed to follow her. The walls were roughly carved, but it seemed to get slightly narrower. Just a little further, and the ball would be stuck, and then she could reconvene. Everything would be fine. Saotomes didn't die like this.



And so she continued to run. With every passing minute, she felt the globe growing closer, and closer. The colors of the world were blurred now into something muddy and unsavory, and as she looked back, Dorothy's eyes widened just a bit. Unfortunately, looking back might have been a mistake as she came to an abrupt stop.



From a dark, hidden alcove, a small boy stepped out, holding the large stick that had just broken two of the Polyglot's ribs as she collided with it. He stuck out his tongue in time with a metallic *sheen*, as...the globe split horizontally, and a circular blade emerged from its middle. It began to spin like a top now, the sharp edge twirling and glinting dangerously. Dorothy went pallid, staring into that boy's face. Her lips seemed to form a name that no one could hear; something undecipherable, the last gift of she would leave her fellow contestants as the globe finally caught up to her trapped body, slicing into her fiercely and without pause. The stream continued for just a few moments after that...just long enough to watch her lower half be crushed, then her upper half as it slid off the blood-stained blade. The stream clicked out unceremoniously. The plates, now done projecting, cracked on cue. Dorothy's candle in the chandelier extinguished itself, and the room was left silent. Horrified. Cheshire seemed pleased.