Room of Doom and Gloom on Boom

She entered a long dark hallway, what seemed like ages ago. She was being led in chains to what was quite possibly her end on this plane.
Apparently she lost herself in contemplation of what that could mean, because next thing she knew the guards were jerking her forward by her chains into a dimly lit space. Before her was a large, circular space with high stone walls and a dirt floor that was littered with small waves of displaced earth. Must be footprints. Or drag prints... She observed long shallow canals that led from the entrance to various positions in the arena. That is what this place was, after all. Some perversion of entertainment for those of the Community. She took notice of the light source. Surrounding the arena were tall free-standing iron sconces capped by a wide and shallow dome whose interior was somewhat reflective. Perhaps they were considered artful back when they were commissioned, but now it was next to impossible to observe any craftsmanship in them. They were covered in layers upon layers of caked wax from years of all the candles spent during case presentations and deliberations. The current candles were down nearly to the nubs, they would need to be changed out soon. The sconces were arranged equidistant around in a ring to shed light upon those in the arena while offering anonymity to the observers. For while they hoped for harsh judgment, not all who entered were doomed to a lifeless exit. After all, this was a place that aspired to be just and fair.
Only, their perception of what those two concepts meant were far from standard. Much to the dismay of their victims--though, they would use the term "Deplorables". Perhaps that let them sleep better at night. Anything to dehumanize the men and women who were sentenced to death, dismemberment, torture...
In the very center of the space was a gallows. She would stand there, with the noose resting on her shoulders and around her neck, while her case was presented to the Judiciary Committee. No one was ever sure about who resided on the Committee. All who sat upon the rostrum in their austere chairs were masked and their robes were billowy and shapeless. They were said to rarely speak and communicated mostly through a herald via written messages. The secrecy of their true identities was all but holy in the Community. If any defendant were to be found guilty of a crime that required a payment to society involving the loss of an appendage, or a lashing, or any number of other torturous methods on offer, then the peaceful life the Community cherished could be jeopardized. Feelings of bitterness and resentment towards any given member could disrupt the balance, and society as they knew it would crumble.
From her vantage point on the gallows she could better see what lay atop the tables that edged the room. There appeared to be surgical instruments, various whips, a chair covered in straps...it bore no more consideration really. She wasn't here for that.
Hers was a trial where, if found guilty, death was the only possible outcome.

Type

Courthouse