Ninety: The Crippler

There was nothing much left to do but wait now. Wait and try to rest, but the wait was nerve wracking.

I went to visit our prisoners in the newly built cells, but didn't learn much from them. It was good to make sure they were comfortable for the time being and had been fed though.

"So this is where you are," Dr Eisor said from behind me, making me jump and nearly lose my balance when I dropped a crutch. He helped me regain the crutch and smiled, tugging lightly on my shorts which showed beneath the edge of my skirt. Mr Raring watched from his cell with unease. Nearly all the prisoners could see and hear what was going on. "Someone has taken pity on you," he sneered.

"Doc," the Bosky soldiers on guard protested, coming over.

"Don't interrupt," Doc commanded, holding up a hand to stop them. "You don't know this devious slave as well as I do. It hasn't just come here for sightseeing, you know. If we don't keep it under control, it will undo all the progress that we have made. We might lose the war. Slaves like this need to be kept locked up with collar and cuffs, so that besides what they are made for, they can't interfere with anything else. It's far too dangerous to let it wander around."

"But Doc, the Chief -"

"I know what the Chief said, but once a slave," and Dr Eisor rammed me into the wall behind me with a hand at my throat and I dropped both my crutches at the sudden shock, "always a slave. I know she planned the trap and helped us this time, but what is her goal? It's not all for the good of Boskyland, you know. I only have a few moments to teach this menace a lesson she won't forget and warn her. Then I have to return to the hospital to try and stop more soldiers from dying. If she tries to meet the prisoners again, you will deny her entry, unless the Chief - not Kiran - mind you, advises otherwise. Understand?"

"Sir. Yes, sir."

"Now turn around and don't watch. If you tattle on me, you can worry about what I may do to you if you ever end up on my table."

The soldier swallowed audibly and I heard feet shuffle.

The hand around my throat then tightened and I began to choke.

"Doctor," Alistair began, but when I began to choke harder from the pressure on my throat, he said nothing more.

"Slaves," Dr Eisor told me, pulling up my dress and grabbing hold of my new underpants, "do not get to wear undergarments and to seem like a proper young lady. Your shame is to be visible for all to see. Your ownership clear to the world."

My underwear was torn from me and Dr Eisor stroked my lower abdomen, making me shiver while icy claws gripped at first my heart, then my stomach and then my heart again. My throat tightened although his hand was no longer choking me.

"I was right when you last tried to escape with Alistair and I am right again this time. You are up to something and if I ever find out what it is, you will regret the day you were born," he said in my ear. "Mind your place, slave, or I will make sure you become like a true slave with a permanent happy expression. Make trouble and then see how kind I will be."

I gasped when his stroking finger touched something that sent an electric bolt through me and made my legs give way. Dr Eisor allowed me to drop, collecting the discarded garments and then pulled out what looked like a multi-function garage remote. Smirking, he pressed one button and then left, whistling.

Pain blossomed in my abdomen like an explosion and I curled up, unable to breathe. It felt like a dragon was clawing at my guts and trying to rip them to pieces within me. My vision spotted with colours. Sweat gathered and dripped. I knew my curled up position exposed the prisoners to a view of my nethers, but I couldn't move. Just drawing a breath was painful.

A guard came and draped a blanket over me and spoke, but I couldn't hear. Other people may have spoken, but I couldn't understand them. Not through the layers and waves of pain that dragged me into a rip tide and was drowning me in the undertow. The undertow had dug a channel through me that the claws raked to make deeper and deeper. It lasted ages and ages. I wanted to pass into oblivion, but something was keeping me awake so that I would have to feel the claws tearing me a slow and impending doom.

"Get the Doc," a voice said. "I'm worried she'll die at this rate. Her pulse rate is slowing down and she's barely breathing."

"Doc said he's coming. He's still in the theatre performing an operation and so may be another hour."

"Will she last that long?"

"The longest I've ever heard a slave survive this punishment was five hours."

"It's already been three. He'll be pushing it. If Kiran finds out…"

"You heard what Doc said."

"I'll take my chances, although I don't know. The Doc is pretty scary."

"I'll take my chances too. Agreed?"

"Yeah. We'll contact Kiran later when we're off duty. For now, we gotta wait and hope the Doc isn't too late."

Concentrating on finding a break in the waves of pain in order to time my breaths consumed me. I couldn't focus on anything else, but to take the next breath. The fiery claws scratched deeper into molten rock as if they were going to rip me to the core. My throat tightened up as if it had decided it had had enough and that it was time to give up. It became harder to breathe. Harder to…

The claws stopped halfway through an attack and suddenly, I could breathe. I gulped the sweet air and slowly became aware of angry shouting. It came through thick walls of fugginess at first. Who or what, I didn't have the concentration to try and understand yet though. I was tired. So tired that my throat felt stuck in a strange squeezed tight position, I couldn't move.

"I'm taking the slave. You can't stop me."

"We can. We don't trust you with her. Neither does Kiran. Everyone knows it. You stay away from her, Doc."

"One memorial, one victory and you're already on her side? Whistlor, go remind her where she ranks in our esteem and not to make any plans. Kiran can't complain if you claim her first and make her yours. He won't do it, so somebody has to."

"I can't do that. Kiran would kill me. But I can still teach her a good lesson. She won't forget it in a hurry."

"Then hurry up before we're both missed and those two idiot guards wake up."

Sensations exploded the moment I was touched and despite the recent torturous clawing pain, everything was so sensitive that it crashed over me like a breaker wave and slammed me into the rocks.

When my senses returned, I was lying naked in front of all the prisoners on the floor. Memory filtered in and I took stock. My dress had been torn. It felt like I was wearing rags. I felt sore and bruised as if I had been roughly grabbed and pinched at. Had I been raped? What had happened? Why was I here?

Turning my head, I met Mr Raring's anxious eyes with my more panicked ones.

"Did they -" I couldn't bring myself to say it. "Did they -?"

"No," Mr Raring said, seeming to understand my concern. "But it was disturbing all the same. Are you all right? Can you move? Can you get up?"

I slowly pulled myself up into sitting, wincing at the cold stiffness that had crept into my joints and muscles. My abdomen was sore and I hugged it to try and soothe the ache. I slipped on the remains of my dress and took a moment to catch my breath when the world reeled around me. Leaning against the wall, I pulled the blanket around myself.

"Are the guards still alive? Can you check?" Mr Raring asked, watching me with anxious eyes. His partner was muttering in his ear.

"Still breathing," I said, watching the flutter of the guards' collars. My voice was hoarse and it hurt to talk. I could only half crawl and half drag myself on the ground.

"Bring me the keys, Jean."

Unable to think too clearly at the moment, I obeyed the directive, crawling back and passing the keys through the bars. It was the right thing to do. We had to get out of here. I had to get out. For a moment, I felt the echoes of the feeling of rough fingers in my private folds and shuddered.

"Do you want to come with us when we escape, Jean?"

Something didn't feel right. Like something was out of place. Out of control. I nodded and put my head back down on the ground. My eyelids blinked slower and lower.

"We can't take her. She'll slow us down. They'll shoot her this time if we take her back."

"I thought that was what you wanted."

"Not after that. Look, I agree, she can't stay here, but she also can't come with us. At least she has a better chance of surviving here."

I heard their voices arguing in the dark. A hand brushed the hair off my forehead and whispered an apology.

"It's better if you stay here. I'm sorry, Jean."

Footsteps and moving gusts of air passed me, until there was only silence left.