Entry 125: Eytjangard part 4

Huola Star System


Predator Elite woke in a cold sweat, his heart thudding loudly, his fingers wound tightly around a thin gray blanket.

The nightmare hovered on the edge of his consciousness, fogging his thoughts and for the moment he couldn't let go of it. Despite the ending, he forced himself to remember the rest, if only to see her face again.

To remember.

She was breathtakingly beautiful.... long straight brown hair, sparkling green eyes that lit every time she looked at him.

His wife.

He sat up and dropped his feet to the floor as he rubbed his hands across his face.

He could still her voice. Such warmth, such love.

She had been everything to him. Wife, lover, friend. Mother to his two sons.

His breathing became ragged as the last few moments of the nightmare played out.

Her screaming, pleading not for herself but for her children.

All three of their voices melded together in one unbearable sound of torture.

And then there was silence.

A mind numbing stretch of silence. How long had it lasted? Hours? Days? Weeks?

He couldn't remember. He couldn't remember anything except an unquenchable thirst for revenge. The days following the murder of his family was nothing but a blur as he tracked down everyone responsible for their deaths.

Standing, he forced the dark memories away as he activated comms, listening to the endless flow of information over the various intel channels. It kept his mind busy, kept him from remembering, from feeling.

A few moments later after a quick shower and a cup of coffee, he stepped out of the captain's quarters of his Bhaalgorn.

As he rallied up a fleet for patrol, he scanned the joining members, noting that she wasn't there.

The second night in a row and she'd been absent, without a word as to why. It was unlike her. She'd been by his side almost unfailing since he'd join the Amarrian militia.

A feeling of dread washed over him. The not knowing was the worst, not that she owed him an explanation of where she was...but goddamn it.

Didn't she know he'd worry?

***

Shalee tightened her fingers in her hair as she laid her forehead against her knees, huddled in the corner of their cage. It had been thirty eight hours since she'd been captured.

It had been nearly four days since she'd truly slept. Exhaustion drenched every pore of her skin. She'd become feverish and started to hallucinate as she'd come down from the high of stims she'd used to keep awake during the exodus.

The stench of death hovered. They had left the one who had tried to protect her in the cell with her and the doctor and now he had begun to rot.

She barely noticed the smell and could only vaguely hear Lora's strained voice.

"Shalee, listen to me." Lora commanded. "You have to get some sleep."

"I have...remember?"

"You were unconscious, it's not the same thing. You need to rest..." she said with a mixture of worry and scolding.

"I'm fine."

"No. You're not. You have to sleep, you're getting sick and there's nothing I can do for you like this."

Before she could respond, the door opened.

Two Seibestor guards grabbed each woman and yanked them from the cage to tie their hands behind their backs.

Her body ached with protest at the sudden jarring, her muscles sore and stiff.

She blinked several times, trying to adjust her vision to the dim light. It was dark out though there were several fires lit along the way giving off enough light that she could make out the swarm of armed men huddled around the camp site.

She locked her gaze on one man as she passed by him. He leered in return.

They were taken towards a crude building made of wood and jagged pieces of metal.

"On your knees!" The two women were forced down a few feet from the door, pressed into the thick mud.

Galt Yaster, a tall, wiry Seibestor, stepped out wearing a dirty, bloodied uniform. He was older than the both of them, his face lined with wrinkles and scarring.

Defiantly, Shalee lifted her head and stared at him, her blue eyes lit with fury.

He laughed at her boldness. "Such spirit for someone so young." He neared them and cupped Shalee's chin, his thumb grazed along the edge of her jaw, smearing away the dirt. "Have you enjoyed my hospitality?"

She said nothing in return.

He chuckled as he squatted in front of her. She could smell a mixture of alcohol and cigarettes on his breath as he leaned in to whisper, "I will have fun breaking your spirit."

Her stomach lurched as she felt the tip of his tongue on her ear. In a swift movement, she jerked her head around and clamped her teeth against his chin, biting as hard as she possibly could before he shoved her away.

"You god damned whore!" He shouted as he stood, hand pressed against his bleeding chin. "You'll fucking pay for your insolence!" Yaster motioned several of his men forward. "Take her inside."

They neared Shalee, "No. Not her. The doctor. Leave the door open, let her hear everything."

The men drug Lora into the building.

Seconds later the doctor's screams filled the night air.

Shalee squeezed her eyes shut and started deliriously humming to herself to drown out the torture.

She gasped, choking on air as Yaster's knee slammed into her back, "Shut the fuck up. You'll listen to every god damned scream she makes and you'll know it's because of you. You'll hear everything, and you'll wonder exactly what they are doing to her. You can sit there with your pride and arrogance, fucking Amarrian whore, and you'll know that you did this to her."

He grabbed a fistful of hair and jerked her head back, "Open your god damned eyes. I want you to stare at the door and listen to what you've done. Are they raping her? Are they taking turns fucking her brains out? Are they slicing her open? I want you to fucking wonder whats going on in there, fear it, little one....because you're next."

***

(Eytjangard Blues, part 4)