Blood & Metal
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Their faces were pressed against the metal before it was pressed down against them. Every last drop of what had once been their life then dripped into the vats, every last drop fed the unlife which a dark hand had forced upon the world.
The eyes were cold, the pupils silent… For most at least. The lucky in the end could be spared the pressure of abominations as their sockets crunched down into themselves. A few voices were heard but for the most part…
It was business as usual.
The fiends looked on, but only for a moment before the next batch was ready to be brought in. Countless had met their ends inside dens such as these, all tucked deep under the shadows of the forest. So many had likely loved nature, but as it was evident, now more than ever…
It did not love them back. A hand could be felt, yes, the only eyes worth a damn glared down upon these horrors. Was it proud, was it simply content with a meal? It was about time some acknowledged it, and yet, no one ever seemed to notice. That pressense…
The work went on and all was as monstrously uneventful as could be. Save for the absence of she who oversaw these cruelties, though perhaps her own indifference was noted by now.
Some seemed to think these deeds could be performed better. More viciously, with more pleasure in it. Or more effective, for the sake of the end goal of it all. The money, the power, the value in a steady line of work in an economy just as malignant?
Some thought they could be redeemed, some simply wished to lash out.
There were grumbles, hidden among the sounds of the machinery as it went ever on... Squeezing the pulp.
What would be done about them, or for them, remained to be seen.
Or perhaps… there would finally be a response after all, to that god of the defiled.
About time then.
The woman shouted… She knew she’d be part of the next batch, a painful death ordained as soon as possible. She curled up alone in her cell, one of many surrounding the machinery. All the others cried into each other’s arms, they shouted, they begged…
But she was all alone, seemingly wasting the good space given to her as a single individual would have too much legroom in this pit of torment. A mercy?
Doubtful, one of the jailers, again, mocked her as he slammed his heavy hands onto the bars. He… defiled her already, even with his words. Whatever insults, whatever… perversions he wished to say, he had absolutely no reason not to. He cursed, he threatened… and then he spat on her before mockingly warning her of her impending demise.
As if it wasn’t obvious already, the poor woman could only try to cover her ears and eyes to spare herself the degradation.
To think that she could end up in a place like this… The men who had taken her had been ruthless, no warnings, and certainly no consideration. A shooting in a public place, a truck ride into the northern woods, and nothing but shamelessness as the gangs proved so utterly without match.
The police, the politicians… By now most were hanging from the buildings, whatever was left was utterly powerless as the city descended into ruin. The world stared on at the depravity and they all laughed.
A city of devils, a farce of a situation. The killings, the lockdowns… Could any disaster warrant such negligence and for so long? Times were rough for most, of course. And yet, who could ever fix a problem that was nothing more than a joke and a political statement for the vultures?
Some threw their arms in the air and refused to step into the muddled waters. The rest used it as a campaign slogan, no state other than the rotten west could be this depraved, yes? And so any candidate who wished to polish their otherwise unexciting portfolio could simply remind the people that they could not be this terrible.
The bribes, the companies… Someone had to make money, groups like Sycamore and Langdon…
Many reasons, many sides… Far too many for Phoebe to count as she heard the key turn in the lock, soon forced to endure the agonizing sounds of the screeching metal as the door opened, on top of all her other problems.
This man… Could he truly be this… disgusting?
He mocked her again, in the most insolent and demeaning of ways. He etched closer, taunting her as he flung both his weight and his… member at her. Did he intend to use her up before grinding her into a paste?
Yes, she could never have been the first. Not around here where the skies cry the tears of blood of the thousands. By now, even more. Far more.
She howled as she lashed out, clawing at him. He beat her, he pushed her to the ground, and forced her to suffer under the burden of his own being. A man seemingly more patchwork than human, his skin was as warped and thick as his complexion varied across every few inches of hair, open pores, sweat, and other waste.
So many lumps, none of it muscle. To think that such an animal could get what he’d want…
And he did, she would certainly not be the last either. And they could all hear the depravity from the nearby cages, one by one all howling in kind. Crying, pleading…
Covering the ears of their children or whichever random ones they found. Ironic that these small souls should be considered not good enough for the whorehouses when Pheobe was seemingly worth the little effort to ruin whatever was left of her sanity and soul.
She sobbed and mewled until the time passed and she even failed to notice when it had ended. Not at first, she simply laid there, bruised and violated…
An open rape for all to see, yes, even the innocent. She was turned to nothing before she’d be pulverized into a treat. What horrors…
Eventually she began to crawl, as if she expected it would lead her to salvation. It would not, she merely wished to move away and far from the beast which would then find himself sweating and moaning in the corner of the cell. There was no pleasure left for him to take, he was as spent as he was made of butter and grease. He looked on at her with a now exhausted demeanor, a gun in his pocket as she barely managed to reach out and hold onto one of the bars.
Was she intending to run, he wondered? Run off with a busted cunt and tears in her eyes?
He grabbed onto the weapon and even took off the safety. From the comfort of his own behind, he simply sat there, watching the poor woman struggle to pull herself up, bar by bar, until she could almost stand.
He squeezed the gun with his massive palms… and merely let her leave, laughing as he did so. The door had been left open, the hell’s maw seemingly inviting her into the monstrous beyond.
Past the vats, past the screaming. She could barely even comprehend… the cries for salvation.
They now begged her, they pleaded… The men, the women, all deemed unfit to live or entertain…
The children all pressed their faces against the bars and utterly begged her without restraint and without hope… to please turn back to save them.
She did not, she simply tumbled past the nearest open door and into a hallway which seemingly led outside. With a broken body and a torn up mind, she fled…
So easy it had been to take her, so easy it had been to let her leave. If only it could’ve been as simple to live past the cruel night and into a better tomorrow.
No, there was truly no chance for her to survive. Only one more mongrel seemed to witness her meaningless limp towards the forest, and this creature too would find its amusement with her.
As Phoebe stumbled into the woods, this second monster would soon follow.
A chase would begin, through the trees and into the mud. The forests of San Mateos were certainly not small… And they certainly would never let its prey think it had a chance with no good reason.