She’s not insane. She’s not broken. She’s something far more dangerous: a Judge who has mastered the oldest weapon in the human arsenal—surprise. Because no one, not even the most hardened psycho-slasher from the Cursed Earth, expects their executioner to hit a split and scream “Gimme a J!” before blowing their spine out through their chest.
Her uniform is a perversion: a cropped top in Judge silver and black, a pleated micro-skirt, knee-high boots with armored shin plates, and a visor that glows like a demon’s smile. In one hand: a Lawgiver Mk. II. In the other: a pair of high-density alloy pom-poms, each strand a monofilament wire capable of severing steel—and throats. cheerleader dredd
The Chief Judge once asked her: “Why the act? Why not just execute them cleanly?” She’s not insane
They call her Cheerleader Dredd.
Cass tilted her head, visor flashing. “Fear closes minds, sir. Confusion opens throats. They spend their last seconds wondering if I’m a joke. And then they die laughing.” Because no one, not even the most hardened
When the Slaughterhouse Boys—a gang of cannibal bikers—cornered her in a dead-end alley, she didn't draw her Lawgiver. She did a cheer.
Rah. Rah. Rah.