by
Karan Seraph
The words erupt from his gut, non-speech. His teeth are gritted then his jaw snapping open violently. The leaden knot of language explodes from the gaping hole, ugly and repellent and unavoidable hits me not in the ears but down in my throat where a responding knot develops. I draw breath, stale air and smoke, and press my lips together "Bastard, go to Hell!"
His hands, claws now and something insect-like, grip my arms. My knees go weak and my head reels with the sudden pain and futility of struggle. I am prey dangling by a thread of a web now unwoven. I wish I never stepped into this bar, I wish I never questioned why Venus died.
I'm carried, now weightless. I am not dragged but pulled along like a kite, only fear with a core of hopeless submission that keeps it from hysterical and useless struggle. I am not mindless. I register the image of this new room, red walls, cement floor, and the sound behind me of a door being securely locked.
The hands are white hot and iron on my arms. I dart only with my eyes around the room, panic creeping in as I see the number of large rough men in the room: four. My mouth quivers open with a non-scream, then my weight becomes immense and I drag myself floorward.
The claws loose my arm and I crawl across the dirty floor on hands and knees, desperately looking for a safer place. Then suddenly my ankles are torn from under me. I scream as the cold floor scrapes my knees, and find in one moment a hand forced over my mouth and nose so I can't breathe let alone call out. The salty taste and somewhat bitter smell of the hand fill my mouth and nose as I struggle to move my teeth against it.
My ankles are stretched apart, the pain in my thighs rioting, chimeric fists and knives against my skin and the feeling of breaking glass inside. I'm raped from behind, my eyes closing to deny what I can't see, and hear the laughter like drops of scalding oil through the room. My elbows hit the floor with a searing pain as the tears well up in my eyes.
For one moment I float again, free, and then the hands bear down as the next man proves himself not to be a real man while thinking the opposite of himself, grunts of something meant to remind me of my use coming from his throat.
Just minutes in this Hell age me by thousands of years, Shivering and ill I don't feel myself dragged out into cold dark space. Only when I hear the mechanical noise of a car do I open my eyes and blinking away tears behold the black shining metal monster, its maw open to devour me.
Locked in the darkness I struggle against the cloth scraping my tongue and the ropes at my wrists and ankles. My face stings as if stung not only by tears and I ache all over, my body throbbing with pain.
I feel the halt of the car and then wait anxiously for the heavy footsteps to lift the door open. The light comes and the voices, deep and muffled, weigh me down as if a great mass of water above. They yank me from the car; the sharp metal edge of the lock slices my thigh. I fall through the air and land hard on a surface of dirt and glass. I lift my head through the pain to find myself. I see the car screech away and move into the non-traffic of the vacant night highway.
My head drops then, and I lay, motionless, trying to keep the pain from finding me.
THE END