Dark Tyrant

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Historical Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 7 (v.1) - Threat

Submitted: September 14, 2013

Reads: 113

Comments: 1

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Submitted: September 14, 2013

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A/N: Look, yeah I make Angia bleed, but honestly, I'm not dakr enough to let her get raped. So, enjoy!

 

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I had watched the sun set over the flat expanse of grass, in my own world of misery. Night had fallen hours ago, but this information was only half-heartedly processed by 3 percent of my brain. The remaining brain forced my eyes to stare into darkness; weep silently as the full, crushing, agonizing weight of my desolate situation finally hit home. I felt so lifeless, so burdened, so…sleepy…sleep…

Hotness shot through me, but instinct told me this was something that wasn’t welcome—instead it felt almost sinister, like a flame yearning to burn you. I blinked open, frowning as I focused on ruffled hair. Something soft moved down my neck, and it dawned: Someone from Marius’ guards was kissing me! He pulled away, a glimmer of obvious raging lust in his eyes, tearing open my shirt with his bare hands! I tried to cover myself, but it was if my hands were glued, frozen in cement. Get away from me, you pig! I wanted to scream, but couldn’t. His hands reached for my breasts, clamping onto them. I couldn’t even snarl, except endure the horrible act. Only by sheer willpower and riot-like outrage did I manage a weak voice: “Get your grubby, dogface, f—” My voice box suddenly dropped dead as I tried throwing out the worst insults I could knew of. A sadistic grin caused swarms of rage to tumble inside of me. It seemed my whole body was immune to my brain’s failed, frustrated, desperate commands, or as if it was rebelling against me. A deep voice repulsed me, the answer truly straight from hell. “You’re mine, girl. And I do what I please with what is mine. It’s going to feel so good to rape you…”  

I screamed, terror-stricken, my really eyes flickering open to escape the horror. I only managed to glimpse a shadow running across the cast moonlight on the cage’s iron floor before Maneus’ sword tip was placed at my throat, his snarl so terrifying I nearly wished I could go back the horrifying dream. “You dare wake me, slave?”

“I was dreaming about one of Marius’ men was r—raping me, officer!”

He rolled his dark eyes at my whimpering, stepping back and sheathing his long sword, his face sour. “Keep quiet or someone might.”

I sniffled, running an arm across my face as my floodgates opened. “It was so real…I couldn’t do anything about it—it was if I was helpless…” Through watery eyes, I looked at Maneus, his expression hard and angry. “Do you not have any sense of mercy or sympathy?” I sobbed, my breathing almost hiccup-like.

He leaned back on the wall furthest away from me, arms-folded, a huge full moon behind him. “Not to you.”

“Then…then—then leave m—me a—alone!”

“No. My commander has ordered me to…mmm? Monitor you.”

Another sniffle, and several more tears. I rolled different answers carefully in my head, ranging from furious insults to feeble sobs: I don’t care what that DOG MARIUS BLOODY THINKS...Please go. Please…YOUR COMMANDER IS A HORRIBLE BEING—HISCA, AT THE VERY STUPID LEAST—AND…I can’t take this anymore. Just kill me now…THAT REPULSIVE ASS OF A KING DECIDED I’M AN OUTLAW IN THIS TRASHCAN OF A KINGDOM SO GET OUT OF MY FACE, YOU—A sigh woke me from my thoughts. “Fine. Just stop bawling like a bloody child.”

“What?” I snivelled, choking on my words.

“I’ve been bored senseless and need some entertainment. Talk.”

Angia…a voice ringed, its imaginary tone suggesting I was being pretty stupid as I blinked in confusion, make conversation with either Maneus or his sword. You choose.

“I…uh…How are you going?”

A snicker. “I think she needs some help. One: Cut off those tears. Two: Ask me a question.”

Even though a Voice rolled its mental eyes, muttering, That was a question, I jumped at a topic and blurted out something before I even noticed what I was. “The king.”

A defensive tsk, like he was saying, Of course she would say that. “That’s not a question.”

“What do you know about the king?” I asked hopefully, rewording my sentence and forcing my tears to end.

Our king, slave. How many times must we correct his people?” The annoyed question seemed aimed at someone other than me. Maneus then focused back on me. “He is your king, and you will do as he decrees. That is all you need to know.”

I pushed harder. “Details.”

Only reflection informed me of his rolling eyes, an exasperated question of Why am I letting her do this to me? “Our king is…attractive, strong, talented, extremely rich, powerful and young.”

“Would the king buy me?”

Maneus laughed heartily at my suddenly—and strangely—enthusiastic question. “Pray he doesn’t. If you’re not sold for at least two angels by the time we reach the capital, Marius would be so angry…—it would be carnage. My commander can be an absolute demon.”

“You wouldn’t let him do that, would you?”

“I would have to, like it or not. He is my superior.”

“Can you sit next to me?”

My eyes only barely managed to catch his quick dart across the cage and his hand sliding behind me, something I found comforting. “Anymore questions?”

“Can you take me to someone who can get me out of this?”

“Being a slave? Tsk, tsk. What? Do you expect the king to help you? You saw how his family regards you…”

My fragile hope cracked and collapsed spectacularly. I stared at the huge moon; it’s light like a dim lamp in the night sky, the stars like insects as they were drawn to it. The world seemed peaceful—like it didn’t care what happened to me. The world didn’t lose any sleep as it witnessed my torment, my terrified and pained screaming, weeping and begging. The crickets still chirped, the birds still soared, the men still went to work and the woman still did the housekeeping. The children still whined and the cities still went about their daily cycles. The world didn’t just stop and stare with horror at the soldier’s regular acts of atrocity on me—no, they were just suddenly naïve and ignorant, as if I was unimportant or not worth considering. Looks like we’re screwed, both the Voices and I sighed miserably. “But would the king buy me?”

Maneus joined my wishful gazing—what he was wishing for I had no clue. “It is unlikely, but has happened. What happens to the slaves is known by only a few…”

After my nightmare a few moments before, I jumped at a conclusion. To save myself more horror, I changed the subject. “What does he look like? I’m guessing blonde hair, blue eyes and a obnoxious personality?”

Maneus laughed quietly, mindful of the hidden remaining soldiers. “You are describing him from your grudge. No, in fact, ‘attractive’ is a mild way of putting it. He is really quite beautiful.”

I snorted, getting an amused glace from the officer. He continued, staring at an eye candy of a night sky. “Honestly. And that’s just the start.”

“Oh what, he’s can shape-shift into an elephant?”

Maneus sighed from. “Give him some credit, please.”

My mouth dropped, completely outraged. “Give that—GIVE THAT HORRIFIC, WORTHLESS, DISGUSTING BASTARD SOME BLOODY CREDIT!” I exclaimed, gaping at him for his nerve and for the suggestion.

Yes.” I shirked at his hard, icy tone. “And control that tongue of yours before I find a final excuse to cut it off.”

“I can say what I want! I have freedom of speech!” I snarled, jumping up with several violent pains. You go, Angia! The Voices shouted, rooting me on. Give it to him!

In the darkness, I heard the scream of a sword as it left its scabbard. Maneus’ eyes glinted like torches, fury exploding in infernos. “Slaves have no rights! You obey your masters, that is all!”

“Then my masters are dogs! DOGS, I SAY!” I yelled back, baring my teeth.  

 Cool metal digging into my chest revolted me; the owner’s snarl sending my stomach turning with riots of hate. “Are you done?”

“NEVER! You’re all disgusting, masochistic pigs! You’re all murders, killers of lives! I’ll never, ever bow down to ANY OF YOU!” I screamed, spitting into the darkness. “SO IF YOU THINK I’LL COME QUIETLY, YOU’RE TERRIBLY MISTAKEN, PIG!”

“Mmm…that’s interesting.” The familiar voice filled me with dread, the knowledge of what it meant freezing me as a sickening chill ran to my toes. The iron door swung open with a scream that made me wince, the excited twinkle in Marius eyes horrifying. His sinister-looking blade ran up and down his officer’s, before gently pushing it away, the tip just managing to rip my shirt. “How pathetic. A slave considering themselves a royal.” He tutted, the sounds like a woodpecker. “Oh dear. I think it’s time we disciplined such a hubristic, rude attitude.”

Maneus stepped away reluctantly—hopefully from the fact that he didn’t want Marius to execute the assumed ‘punishment’—torture was getting a bit closer to what the commander probably had in mind. “Take off your clothes. All of them.”

Get away from me!”

Marius raised a brow at his officer, questioning him. My shattered ashes of hope hung precariously as it waited for his answer—an answer I dreaded as Maneus advanced on me, gripping my wrists tightly and pushing them painfully behind my back. I snarled, screaming. “What now, Commander?”

Over the officer’s shoulder, I saw Marius’ light brown brow rise in the cool, night air and bright moonlight. “She’s been begging for rape…”

I screamed in horror, squirming as I withered in pain I knew I would soon experience, tears washing my face. My sobs echoed in the night. “NO! YOU WON’T TOUCH ME! NEVER!”

“Maneus, how about you start it off with a kiss?”

I screamed, trying to back away.  Maneus snarled, and shoved me back against the iron walls, his strong hands pinning down my shoulders. “Maneus! Please!” I screamed desperately.

His eyes flashed with confusion, his lips pressing into a hard line. “Commander, this is too far…”

“Are you questioning orders?” Marius growled, furious.

“Are you ordering me to rape this innocent girl? She may be a slave, Commander, but this is too far.”

Marius advanced on his officer, disgust obvious as he threw Maneus off me and replaced him, his huge hands pushing me into the cold, iron wall. “What will it be? Burning, rape, torture or flogging?”

“No one will buy me if I look like some abused animal!” I screamed, my mind scrambling for some kind of ‘saviour information’.

Marius’ hands slid up to my neck, stroking it with fake affection. Repulsion whirled around me, my insides tumbling with hot anger. “No matter. You will just become my slave, then.”

And he leaned in, lips touching my cheek. I squirmed, but the commander fixed that with a knee to my abdomen. I groaned, my body once more aching. Lips continued across, inching closer to my lips. I screamed weakly, my voice dying with another powerful strike. Marius suddenly lifted me off my feet, slamming me down to the cold, iron floor. He straddled on my hips, grinning evilly, the bright moon behind him. I was helpless as the sexual harassment continued, starting with my assaulter winding several dark strands around his finger. One hand slid up my shirt. “Maneus! Someone!” I shouted desperately. A ripping sound shocked me: Marius was ripping my shirt in half. In a swift movement, my upper body was bare. “Don’t you dare touch me,” I warned darkly, anger raging like some kind of sea monster inside me.

His hands ran across my exposed stomach. “Oops. I’m touching you.”

I snarled, spitting into his face. Marius grinned, a long fingernail tracing around my breast. “Feisty, feisty…Let’s see if you will bare me a son!”

I screamed once more, sobbing at my helplessness.

If you have any compassion Bellony, please! Get me out of this! I beg of you! I squirmed desperately, my chest heaving from sobs, my emotions ranging from outrage to shock.

“HELP!” I screamed, helpless as the commander’s nails dug into my breasts. “Get your horrible fingers off me, you disgusting paedophile!”

He continued to fondle my breasts, but this wasn’t something that was done from love. My ears rung as I opened my mouth to release another high-pitched scream of terror, or as a signal to the other soldiers to get this maniac off me.  

Marius grinned at my description of him. “Yes, that’s an interesting thought…” He thought aloud, unsheathing his sword, the cold blade lying across my abdomen. “What will it be, slave? I could continue touching you, or perhaps inflict more pain…the choice is yours.”

“So I have a choice now?” I snarled, shaking, unable to contain the violent uproars of fury, thinking, Either way I suffer!

The blade sliced my skin, the shallow cut flaring up instantly. Marius raised a brow at my weak yelp, as I was once again reminded of my shattered hope and all of my enemies. “Consider this a warning. You will obey your masters, and if I hear one more insult—you wretched liar, thief and rebel—against your king—”

“HE’S NOT MY BLOODY KING!” I screamed, my whole body aching, pains raging across my figure like a scorching, dangerous fire.

Marius growled, swiftly slapping me across my cheek. I bit down on my tongue, and I jerked in a wince, tasting blood and feeling it all over me. “

I will reword what I was about to say,” the commander spat darkly, his voice Hisca personified, fear rippling across me, pouncing on and pinning me down. “If I hear one more lie, insult or if you dare disobey your masters once more, the consequences will be too great for you to bare…”

He let the threat hang, outrage that once controlled me now replaced by fear. The type of fear that would be expressed as phobia. Yes, I agreed, I have a phobia of anything to do with Hisca and his masters and his servants. Marius rose, sheathing his sword. “Consider yourself warned.”

 


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