It's for me. The final showdown, the ultimate punishment. This is my battle. No more hide and seek, no more predator versus prey.

No more happy endings when the execution platform involves me.

Trent begins to say something, but I ignore him. I pass into the bedroom again, change into the worker's uniform in the closet, and storm towards the PrintPad in the living room. Part of the wall rolls open, and I duck onto the fire escape.

Dull wind and sunshine rub my skin the wrong way. The apartment window shuts behind me, leaving me alone with the city. Before the towering buildings were just buildings. Now they're enemies. Everything is.

With an inhale and a hand on the railing, I pound down the flights of stairs. Each footstep boosts and crashes my confidence. A tidal wave of passion, fear, and fury tears my insides apart.

My eyebrows knit together. The nation can't contain the unstable bomb that I am. Not anymore. Time is ticking before I detonate.

Lingering on the final step of the fire escape, I make it to the ground in record time. A trickle of people clad in black head in the same direction down the street. I spot the execution stage from my vantage point, deadly and unwavering.

I dismount from the final step and swallow. There's always a little fear when you're capable of wreaking havoc.

I blend into the thin crowd, following the stream of people towards the stage. The sun hides behind a cloud, and the rays disappear. I shove my sweating hands in my pockets and keep going.

The stage gets closer and closer. About a dozen Screeners near the stage herd people into a holographically fenced-in area. I watch them closely. They shove people harshly without second thought.

A Screener grabs my shoulder and forces me into the audience. I stumble but manage to avoid falling. Turning to shoot a glare at the red uniforms, I fix my collar and find a spot to breathe in the tightly-packed crowd.

Out of habit, I scan the surroundings. Screeners position themselves everywhere, from the row on stage to the rooftops and corners of every location in sight. It's startling. I know I'm dangerous, but I don't think the nation needs 400 Screeners to keep me contained.

More people fill the audience until the Screeners seal the hologram fence shut. My heart rate rises as they cue for the execution to begin.

"Welcome to today's execution ceremony," a distinct voice says. "We will begin with the national pledge."

A hologram of the flag blinks to life on stage, at least a story or two taller than the Screeners. It dominates the attention of the crowd as the pledge recital begins.

But I don't say a word. As the sun returns and hides, I stand my ground. The Screeners take notice, angling their visors towards me. My legs tremble under the pressure, but my feet hardly falter in their steadiness. I can't force myself to make a promise with a lie.

"Your pledge has been accepted," the voice says. "Now welcome to the stage our leader President Hybriad."

A man in a white suit enters through the holographic flag, causing massive ripples in the display. The star-struck audience claps loudly, holding its breath. The most powerful man in the world is before us, superior and supreme.

A live feed replaces the national flag, and President Hybriad's expression stands taller than us all. I've never felt more powerless.

The President mounts the podium in the middle of the stage, Screeners lined behind him. No one dares to make a noise.

"The nation is a place of greatness," Hybriad begins, voice twisting into my ears. "I value order and allegiance, two important qualities of stable citizens. Unfortunately, this nation has been undermined by unruly acts of disorder, disloyalty, and above all disrespect for your President."

He pauses, steering his iron gaze across the crowd. His eyes find mine and practically shoot lasers at me. "I take all these acts seriously. After your protective Screeners eradicated the putrid rebels from our nation, certain lower-class citizens continued the outbreaks of disgrace. Let it be clear: this is your only warning before you're punished."

Hybriad points his arm towards the left side of the stage. Three Screeners march three prisoners across the stage. Black bags cover the prisoners' faces, covering up their identities. My mind flashes back to my mother, my loving mom who marched to the same helpless fate.

The prisoners clump together in a line, thumping onto their knees one by one. The bangs of kneecaps on marble... it grits against my spine.

"The attacks stop here. If you want to regain your place in society, restore your allegiance to the nation. If you don't, you will reach the same fate these three convicts will."

He pauses again. "One citizen will be drafted from the audience to execute these prisoners. This is his or her only opportunity to reclaim national redemption for every lower-class citizen who desired a rebellion."

I don't even get a second to throw up or faint. Hybriad announces, "That citizen will be Holland Renner."

Screeners fly off the stage, heading directly for me. Their movement destroys the aura of submissiveness required of me. Breaking free, I turn to run, pushing between all the open-mouthed people.

The crowd is too dense, the Screeners too fast. Hands grab me, cover my mouth, and drag me towards the stage. I scream, kick, claw, even hit a few audience members by accident. Nothing stops them.

The Screeners toss me on stage, punching me. They force me to stand up by pulling my hair. I scream as they make me face the crowd. My eyes glare at the Hybriad's pristine suit, the back of his head I want to bash in.

"Miss Renner is your prime example."

The Screeners turn me around to face the prisoners. They lift the bags off one by one.

Nicolette, looking disoriented and scared but otherwise okay. I bite my lip, terrified.

The second bag uncovers Stephen, the yellow tinge coloring his bruised skin again. Tears burn the back of my eyes. I feel myself sway. No.

The final bag disappears. My dad blinks at the harsh lighting, dark circles under his eyes and wounds splitting his skin.

I openly sob, reminded of the Equinox tasks and my mom's execution. "Oh, my God. I'm so sorry. Please don't hate me, Dad."

"H-Holland," he says. His eyes meet mine and glow, thankful to see me.

"The official executions will begin now," Hybriad echoes across the area. "These despicable criminals will die today for treason."

My body freezes, out of my control like everything else. I cry as the Screeners put a gun in my frozen hand.

"Please, no! Don't do this to me!" I scream, tears sticking to my cheeks. "This isn't me, I don't want to. I love you, Nicolette, Stephen, Dad. I love you so much. I don't hate you, please, no! Don't let me do this! Someone stop me! Please!"

My remaining loved ones struggle, but the Screeners hold them tightly. Right before my eyes, I watch them succumb to immobility.

I cry until my voice breaks in hoarseness. "This is all your fault, Miss Renner," Hybriad says into my ear. I reach to punch him, but my arm refuses to cooperate.

"This is not right, you evil old man," I growl. "You will never win. This isn't right! You're the killer."

"Oh, no, honey... I'm not the enemy here. You are," he says, clicking his tongue. "I warned you in your Equinox task. You didn't listen."

My lips seal shut, and my arm rises. I cry, scream, fight, but the power of the Enhancement Project overcomes me. The metal barrel in my hands points at Stephen, his solid features and terrified dark eyes.

Stephen. My first love, my only love. I can't even tell him I'm sorry. The Project is a parasite within me, sucking away my power and strength.

My fingers unwillingly tighten around the gun. I'm fighting as hard as I can, trying to resurrect my own control, but it's hopeless. Stephen attempts to shutter away from the gun, but the Enhancement Project grapples him back into an unmoving state.

Sickeningly, an internal chanting begins in my head, rattling my brain. I cry for Stephen, desiring to push his familiar build out of the way, to save him from myself.

We both cry as Stephen gasps, "Try harder, Holland."

I can't try harder. It's too strong, too much... Welcome to the Enhancement Project. Welcome to the Enhancement Project. Welcome to the Enhancement Project.

BOOM. My hand vibrates from the power of the gun. Stephen's dead weight crumples to the ground, and I hear myself scream. Blood pools from the circle in his forehead, defacing my Number 399.

The Project suddenly steals my sight, drowning me in darkness and choking me with the flashing images of Stephen. My arm whips to the left, then the right, firing cruel bullets without hesitation. I scream and cry for mercy, but the nation denies me the right to choice.

BOOM. BOOM. One louder thud quickly follows the other. My vocal chords strain, creating the loudest, most unearthly sounds I've ever heard in my life. Echoing pure destruction and utter repentance. My eyes regain sight for just a second, just a moment to see my dead best friend and father.

I scream again, panic rising in my throat. What have I done?

The darkness blocks the world from me. My arm moves in the pitch blackness, craning the gun close to me. I fight against the grip, yelling louder than I ever have before yet making no sound at all.

The metal presses into my temple. My lungs convulse, fear skyrocketing into the stratosphere.

The Project forces me to speak, not with its amateur stuttering but with perfectly-enunciated syllables. My voice chants using the Project's icy breath, not my own. It makes me repeat the phrase like it'll save me, like there's salvation in a place like Hybriad's country.

Somehow I knew when they wanted me to die, I'd go out with a bang. I knew the nation would torture me, brand me with unspeakable horrors, kill me with my own compulsory suicide...

Welcome to the Enhancement Project. Welcome to the Enhancement Project. Welcome to the Enhancement Pro--

BOOM.

-- -- -- -- --

A/N: let me just give you a second to process what just happened.

--

((the story is not over yet))

the winning choices were "spare two" and to my surprise, both "chosen" and "uncovered" tied for the second question. Holland was chosen to be the executioner, and the bags lifted up to "uncover" three faces.

as for the two "spared" lives, that's tanner and peyton.

Question: Choose a person: Trent, a Screener, or Hybriad.

Follow-Up Questions: How much do you hate me right now? Did anyone see this coming? Do you think the stand-off was fitting? Ironic? Full-circle? Insane?

ps: on friday (instead of Saturday) i will post the honorable mention winner(s) from the 250K contest.