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The Bosky Invasion (Completed)

Jean Evans is just an ordinary working girl. Or so she strives to be. As a criminal in hiding, she has to keep her head down and be prepared to go on the run at any moment. When the neighbouring nation invades her city, suddenly her dreams of an ordinary, relatively unnoticed life goes awry. She doesn't want to be noticed, but someone has. And now that she's been noticed, she has become bait, a tool used by both sides of the war in an effort to control the man she once thought could be a dream boyfriend. The man who had turned into an enemy in the midst of her daydream. Can Jean rise to the occasion and show the strength of her abilities or will she be crushed when events set her back over and over again? How many times can a girl be crushed before she gives up? --- Author's note: This story is relatively depressing and many of the themes are for more mature audiences. I wouldn't call it a romance story. More a slippery slope of distasteful greys sliding into darkness. This is a work of fiction based upon a dream. No characters, settings or events are based on any real life people, environments or events. In the event anything resembles something in real life, it is an accident.

Tonukurio · Urban
Not enough ratings
137 Chs

Forty-two: The ants go marching

He kicked me over, winding me again just when I had been able to finally start breathing again and I huddled in a ball. They knocked me around the room and tore my shirt when they grabbed the back of my collar to drag me back within their reach. Buttons popped. Something clattered on the tiles.

"What's this?" the male guard asked, picking up my sewing kit. "Hey look, pins and needles."

"I've always wanted to try giving a suspect acupuncture," the female guard said. "What do you think?"

"I think it's a great idea," the male guard said, and a foot pinned me to the ground. "Two each?"

"Yeah. Here."

"Thanks."

Sharp needles pierced into my skin, jabbing in and out. Heavy feet on my buttocks or neck held me down while I thrashed and cried out, trying to escape the pain.

"Death is too easy for the likes of you," they said, jabbing me as deep and fast as they could. "This small reminder for you to be a good, obedient little girl should do you good. Remember, you deserve this."

My limbs scrabbled at the cold tiles and bits of useless foam. Fire and lightning and literal pins and needles jabbed their way across my back.

My aches and bruises and pain kept me from thinking clearly. Random thoughts flitted through my head.

The ants go marching two by two, hurrah, hurrah.

"Pity these needles aren't longer," the female guard complained, twisting her foot to grind me into the tiles. The male guard followed her lead, making me yell when I felt like my neck might break.

"Listen to that sobbing," he scoffed. "You'd think we weren't doing her a favour."

"It's all right," the female guard said. "She'll learn. By the time we're done, she'll be licking our boots and thanking us. Maybe even show you a little appreciation for all our hard work."

"Mmm," a foot stomped my backside down, grinding my hip bones into the tiles. "That'd be nice, but maybe another time. Right now, I think it's more worth our while to just give her this gentle reminder not to miss curfew again and stay out all night. We were already sufficiently gentle the first time. I think we should have been firm enough this time. We really have put our foot down on her today."

"You think so?" the female guard snorted and threw her needles on the ground. "Fine then. This should do it for now. Come on, let's go."

Two needles were stuck in my back and left there.

"Okay."

"Hey, that's a good idea," the female guard picked up the needles she'd thrown down and jabbed them into my back as well, leaving them there, while I tried to sob quietly. She kicked me. "Come on, let's go."

I heard them open the door and there was silence. A long silence that made me wonder if they had disappeared without a sound.

The guards had turned into statues at the door after seeing the light of day like some trolls from fantasy stories at the door.

"You. Two. Are. Imbeciles," said a frosty voice that enunciated each word with a bite at the end. "Total and utter idiots. Come with me."

The guards shuffled their feet and then followed the angry footsteps with trepid footsteps of their own. I, on the other hand, was busy trying to breathe through the pain, my sobs and snot. There was no comfortable position and I didn't know what else to do to make the pain stop. I couldn't quite reach the needles to pull them out. Mucous covered my nose and mouth, making it hard to breathe. Coughing hurt.

I was partly undressed due to my now ragged shirt but I didn't have the time to care about my loss of dignity. Getting those sharp things out of my back were more important.

"Oh God," said someone, pulling the needles out of my bare and bleeding back. If I had two cents, I'd say that was the flop haired weasel's voice. "Jean, I'm so sorry."

"Call the ambulance," a calmer, dry voice said to someone else. "We'd better take her to the hospital. Who knows what those two idiots have done to her."

Hands pulled me up over onto my side and I retched, and then threw up. Sharp pain lanced through my side and up my neck and… a black fog rolled over.