Gas Chamber Stories 5: Tina's final catwalk.
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Tina looked into the mirror on the wall of the death cell to make sure her makeup and her shoulder length red hair was all in place. She stepped back from the mirror, straightened herself and buttoned her lavender jacket; that matched her skirt, only allowed the end of the stethoscope tube to protrude slightly from between the buttons. She turned toward the nurse who occupied the cell with her and gave her a smile.
“Tina,” the nurse said.
“Yes.”
“Take off your shoes.”
Tina gave her a puzzled look, “What? Take off my shoes?”
“It’s part of the protocol, you can’t wear them.”
Tina looked down at her black pumps and gently stepped out of them and placed her nylon clad feet on the cement floor. “At least I had my toe nails done.”
“I’m sorry,” the nurse said as she picked Tina’s shoes up. Shoes trap gas inside them.”
“That’s all right, I fully understand. I was lucky they let me pick out my own cloths and do my hair. They could have made me wear one of those prison rags I had to wear for the past year and a half.”
“You look nice,” the nurse said as a nearby door opened and two guards placed a runner rug in the middle of the hallway that led to the gas chamber. They opened the cell door and placed a shorter rug into the cell, stopping at Tina’s feet.
“I don’t understand,” Tina said as she slowly moved her head from side to side.
“The floor is cold, it is to keep you comfortable,” one of the guards said.
“I don’t know if I should thank you for your kindness or laugh.”
The warden and two guards entered the hallway and stopped in front of Tina’s cell. “Tina, I must read you this statement,” the warden said. “It is the order of the court that the prisoner Tina Brochard shall be put to death for the crime of murder in the first degree at the appointed time of 10 AM on the date of May 17, 1964 in a method prescribed by law which is the infliction of lethal gas. Do you have anything you would like to say?”
Tina shook her head, “No.”
“It’s time.”
Tina looked at the nurse, “Thank you.” She then stepped onto the rug and out of the cell. She turned right and followed the runner run as guards walked to her sides. Once through a large door she saw the gas chamber waiting just a few yards away. One guard opened the door to reveal the two metal chairs and the sacks of cyanide suspended underneath each one. The tall, blue eyed red head stopped for a second, looked into the chamber and took a deep breath. She then took another slow well-placed step and then another until she stepped into the gas chamber.
The guards turned her around with her back to the witnesses and seated her into the chair left of the door. The quickly strapped her hour glass figure to the chair and connected the stethoscope. “When you hear the pellets drop slowly count to ten and take as many deep breaths as you can, it’ll be quicker for you that way,” one guard said.
“Thanks for the advice,” Tina said as she looked straight ahead.
“Close your eyes,” another guard said and then placed a black sleeping mask over Tina’s eyes.
She then heard the footsteps of the guards as they left the chamber and then the low metallic grown of the door being shut followed by the turning of the wheel to seal the door. Tina waited as the seconds ticked by on clock mounted on the wall beside the chamber. Each second that felt like an eternity as the warden waited for the appointed time of 10AM to give the signal to start the procedure. As the second hand struck 12 he gave a nod. One guard turned two valves, and another waited until the acid solution drained into the vats beneath the chairs and then he pulled a lever, lowering the cyanide into the solution.
Tina heard the pellets fall. She counted slowly, “1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10.” She rolled her head backwards and took a deep breath, lowered her head and took another. She raised her head and took in a third deep breath. She jerked her head backwards, clinched her hands and curled her toes. Her mouth opened, and she let out a long, labored gasp. She rolled her head slightly to her right, held it still for a few seconds and then her head fell forwards. Her body slowly relaxed.
Eight minutes went by as the doctor listened to her fading heartbeat. The, her heard no more sound. He looked at his watch, recorded the time one the clipboard which he held and removed the earpieces of his stethoscope. The doctor looed at the warden and gave him a nod.
The headlines flashed over the news wires, ‘FORMER SUPERMODEL DIES IN GAS CHAMBER FOR THE MURDER OF HER RIVALS.’
“Tina,” the nurse said.
“Yes.”
“Take off your shoes.”
Tina gave her a puzzled look, “What? Take off my shoes?”
“It’s part of the protocol, you can’t wear them.”
Tina looked down at her black pumps and gently stepped out of them and placed her nylon clad feet on the cement floor. “At least I had my toe nails done.”
“I’m sorry,” the nurse said as she picked Tina’s shoes up. Shoes trap gas inside them.”
“That’s all right, I fully understand. I was lucky they let me pick out my own cloths and do my hair. They could have made me wear one of those prison rags I had to wear for the past year and a half.”
“You look nice,” the nurse said as a nearby door opened and two guards placed a runner rug in the middle of the hallway that led to the gas chamber. They opened the cell door and placed a shorter rug into the cell, stopping at Tina’s feet.
“I don’t understand,” Tina said as she slowly moved her head from side to side.
“The floor is cold, it is to keep you comfortable,” one of the guards said.
“I don’t know if I should thank you for your kindness or laugh.”
The warden and two guards entered the hallway and stopped in front of Tina’s cell. “Tina, I must read you this statement,” the warden said. “It is the order of the court that the prisoner Tina Brochard shall be put to death for the crime of murder in the first degree at the appointed time of 10 AM on the date of May 17, 1964 in a method prescribed by law which is the infliction of lethal gas. Do you have anything you would like to say?”
Tina shook her head, “No.”
“It’s time.”
Tina looked at the nurse, “Thank you.” She then stepped onto the rug and out of the cell. She turned right and followed the runner run as guards walked to her sides. Once through a large door she saw the gas chamber waiting just a few yards away. One guard opened the door to reveal the two metal chairs and the sacks of cyanide suspended underneath each one. The tall, blue eyed red head stopped for a second, looked into the chamber and took a deep breath. She then took another slow well-placed step and then another until she stepped into the gas chamber.
The guards turned her around with her back to the witnesses and seated her into the chair left of the door. The quickly strapped her hour glass figure to the chair and connected the stethoscope. “When you hear the pellets drop slowly count to ten and take as many deep breaths as you can, it’ll be quicker for you that way,” one guard said.
“Thanks for the advice,” Tina said as she looked straight ahead.
“Close your eyes,” another guard said and then placed a black sleeping mask over Tina’s eyes.
She then heard the footsteps of the guards as they left the chamber and then the low metallic grown of the door being shut followed by the turning of the wheel to seal the door. Tina waited as the seconds ticked by on clock mounted on the wall beside the chamber. Each second that felt like an eternity as the warden waited for the appointed time of 10AM to give the signal to start the procedure. As the second hand struck 12 he gave a nod. One guard turned two valves, and another waited until the acid solution drained into the vats beneath the chairs and then he pulled a lever, lowering the cyanide into the solution.
Tina heard the pellets fall. She counted slowly, “1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10.” She rolled her head backwards and took a deep breath, lowered her head and took another. She raised her head and took in a third deep breath. She jerked her head backwards, clinched her hands and curled her toes. Her mouth opened, and she let out a long, labored gasp. She rolled her head slightly to her right, held it still for a few seconds and then her head fell forwards. Her body slowly relaxed.
Eight minutes went by as the doctor listened to her fading heartbeat. The, her heard no more sound. He looked at his watch, recorded the time one the clipboard which he held and removed the earpieces of his stethoscope. The doctor looed at the warden and gave him a nod.
The headlines flashed over the news wires, ‘FORMER SUPERMODEL DIES IN GAS CHAMBER FOR THE MURDER OF HER RIVALS.’
I have enjoyed all your stories but this was your very best. Please keep writing these great stories.
Thanks, I have some more planned. They will all be at different to a degree to make them unique.
I love she went in stockinged feet keep up the excellent work and keep inclding the stocking feet footnotes giggle
Love! Love! Love! Really fantastic. I actually found myself jealous of Tina.
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Forum > Public / Stories > Gas Chamber Stories 5: Tina's final catwalk.