Amélie Lacroix, AKA, Widowmaker, AKA, the thiccest purple bitch you know. She was Talon's greatest assassin; a remorseless monster whose only source of pleasure came from ending the lives of the good and the innocent. Well, not the only source.
The one thing that Widowmaker loved more than murder was molesting THOTS. Those young, wide-eyed, dog filter using whores simultaneously made Widowmaker enraged and wetter than Niagara Falls.
Why should those sexy little sluts have all the attention? she thought, What they need is some discipline.
A sadistic smile emerged as she looked over at her most recent catch; her sworn enemy, Tracer. On the surface, Tracer was the poster girl for goodness and purity, but what few people knew is that Tracer was the biggest THOT the world had ever seen. She was guilty of all the THOT crimes; using the dog filter, posting 13 Reasons Why memes, and teasing niggas but not letting them smash.
Tracer was bound and gagged, completely naked save for a dog nose and ears superglued to her. Widowmaker decided that if she was going to kill Tracer, she would have her die as she lived, as the Ultra THOT. But, before executing her, Widowmaker was going to have a little fun with her.
"Hello, ma petite salope de sperme. How are you feeling" Widowmaker inquired with sadistic glee "I can't imagine that must feel very good for you."
Widowmaker grinned as she saw Tracer squirm in pure agony; Widowmaker's prized rifle had pierced fully up Tracer's anus, the cold, jagged metal lacerated her rectum and went all the way up to her intestines. Tears ran down her face as she violently vomited blood and some fat nigga's skeet, Tracer loved when Daddy 3 punished her by putting it in the tunnel of no return, but she had never experienced anything like this.
"I-It hurts. So much." she croaked. She hadn't been in this much pain since she found out that Charlie Wright's Down Syndrome looking ass got cast as Rodrick in the new Diary of a Wimpy Kid movie.
"Oh, my poor THOT baby." Widowmaker mocked "It will be over soon and you'll go to THOT heaven with your little friends Mei and . They'll be group profile pictures captioned with shitty rap lyrics, and Chainsmokers music as far as the eye can see."
"Please. I don't want to die." Tracer pitifully pleaded.
"You should have thought of that before you became a bitch ass THOT." Widowmaker coldly replied.
Her hatred was soon subdued with amusement as she began to tell the slowly dying Tracer a story from her childhood, "You know, when I was a young girl, I had a fear of THOTS. Always roving in packs and not letting any fat niggas hit the yeet on the pussy. But then one night, I had a vision. A vision of Jesus. Do you know what he said to me? He said 'If she breath she a THOT, but you cool B' and I realised that I was stronger than any THOT on Earth. I never used the dog filter. I always let a nigga hit. That's why I joined Talon."
"What?" Tracer asked in disbelief, she briefly forgot that she was in unimaginable amounts of pain because of how fucking retarded that story was.
Widowmaker smirked smugly, " Since you're about to die, I'll tell you a secret. There is no such thing as Talon, at least not what the rest of the world thinks it is. Have you noticed something similar about the people we've killed? Zoie Burgher, Amy Schumer, Tana Mongea, what do all of these people have in common? Talon is just a front for the real organisation. Do you know who we really are, my little cumrag?"
"W-Who?" Tracer asked with her last breath. Before her eyes closed and she left this world for THOT heaven, the last thing she heard was an Earth-shattering revelation that she would take to the grave.
"Talon is really..."
"The THOT Police"