Chapter 7 - The Visitor

Missti watched in horror as the men ripped off her mother's robe, and began pulling and clawing at her. One grabbed her mother's hair and rammed her mouth on to his waiting erect manhood, only to remove her head and backhand her, and repeat the process. Her mother screamed, trying to pull her head away and spit him out, but she was no match for him. Two more soldiers were behind her, and one rammed himself into the screaming woman from behind. He thrust violently and without mercy, slapping, scratching, and striking her mother as he did so. The other soldiers gathered around for their turns, and both Missti and her father tried to escape their captors to rip the men off. It was to no avail. Missti would get the biting end of a stun baton, while her father would get the same end of a boot or fist. The man wailed openly for his wife, grunting and screaming with rage, but was struggling to remain conscious as bruises, cuts, and blood increasingly showed on his face.  One of the soldiers slid his pants to his ankles and lay on his back on the floor, pulling her mother roughly down on top of him. He grabbed her by the throat and made her straddle him. Two soldiers stuffed their cocks into her mother's mouth, while two more laughed and fought to be the first to enter her ass. Her mom's screams told Missti that at least one was successful, and all the men thrusted and jerked violently. They struck her, scratched her, and insulted her as they had their way. After a couple minutes, her mother no longer made any noise, the shock having set in, and Missti could see she was barely conscious. One of the men spasmed and moaned in pleasure as he dumped his semen down his mother's throat-

A bright white light took over Missti's vision, and her eyes jerked open. After a few seconds, the light's source came into view, and she blinked away some tears. She closed her eyes again, and then blinked a few more times to adjust to the welcome intrusion into her nightmare. As she made out the fluorescent panels above her, and then the sterile whitewashed walls around her, her own nightmare came crashing back. She had hoped she would awaken safe and warm in her own bed to find this had all just been a dream.

"Wake up, rookie," a raspy voice said to her right. Missti sat up on her cot, pulling her gown down over knees as she slid the blankets off. She focused her still adjusting eyes on the man on the other side of her cell's bars. The top half of her outer cell door was open, so the man was able to see through the half door, the bars she was looking through, into her tiny chamber. He had a slightly disheveled look about him, and wore a short brimmed hat that was sitting slightly crooked on his head, with stray brownish-gray hairs emerging here and there. He had stubble that said he simply hadn't shaved in a few days, not the intentional five o'clock shadow or well trimmed facial hair you'd see on someone who cared about their image. Overall, her initial impression wasn't that he was threatening, but he was staring at her through steel bars. She wasn't sure any face appearing on the other side of those bars would put her at ease. She knew she could trust and befriend no one right now.

Missti just stared him, saying nothing, and showing no emotion, so he continued. "Camp starts today, and you are my star prospect. I know you're scared and confused, but I promise that if you work hard and try hard there is a way out and good things are ahead." He made a small smile, but Missti could see his heart wasn't in it.

Who was he? She decided to break her silence and find out. Nothing could be gained by making enemies, even if she didn't want friends. She had a lot of questions, and would need to be able to open her mouth to ask them. Playing the silent card was only likely to get her punished, possibly as bad as what they'd done to her mother. She was a virgin, and she wanted to stay that way for the time being. She definitely didn't want to lose it by being brutally raped. She stood and walked slowly to the door. "Who are you? Where is my family?" She said no more, and did not smile.

"My name is Barry Jordan. I'm a scout for the Kentucky Ponies. My job is to find potential prospects and players for the team. When I saw you in the prisoner cells, I made a bid for you, and brought you here." He smiled as if he'd done her a favor. "As for your family, I have no idea. Your mother and father are likely in the General's possession. I couldn't tell you more because I'm not privy to that level of information."

Missti frowned, but quickly recovered. She wanted to keep her emotions flat for now. "And my brother? Any idea what happened to him?" As she asked the question, she recalled something that had been haunting her even more than the memory of her mother's rape and their capture. Jason hadn't made any attempt to intervene as she and her father had. Missti hadn't looked at him too much, but when she had he'd been standing still, only slightly restrained by one soldier. Why? Was he really a coward, despite everything she knew about him? They'd been through a lot together, and he had trained from a young age to be a warrior. Missti had trained along with him, even though she wasn't supposed to. He had finally given in to her pestering and decided the path of least resistance was just to teach her everything he learned. He'd been a good brother to her. She was confused and terrified at the thought of him being anything but brave.

"Again, I'm sorry, I don't know," he said. "I saw you in the cells, made a winning bid for you, and here you are." He looked casually to his left and right, then back at her. "As I said, camp starts today. It's an honor to get to try out for this team. I'm sure you're aware of the FSL and the Kentucky Ponies. We are an organization with a long history. I think you have a real shot at making the lineup. I have high hopes for you. Do as you're told, focus, and work hard and you can have a pretty good life, all in all, maybe a even a really good one if you are more successful than most."

Missti put her face to the bars, getting as close as she could to the scout's face. "Are you fucking crazy?" she said, her voice low, but seething. "Do you really think, after what I've been through, that I can do any of those things? Do you think I care? I watched my mother get gang raped, my father beaten, and I don't even know why. I watched others in my town get hauled off the same way, and I know they got the same treatment. You are a monster!" She spit in his face, then took a step back.

Barry sighed, and patiently wiped the spit from his face. The way he did it seemed to indicate that he had expected this, or her behavior was nothing surprising. "I can't do anything about any of that. I had nothing to do with how you got here. The Protectorate has reasons for what they do and who they incarcerate. My job is to scout prospects for this team, and I take my job seriously. I don't always enjoy it. I know you've had a rough go of it lately, but you could still be in the cells with the rest of the people who were taken and are bound for much less prestigious destinations. In fact, with a body like yours, if you fail here you can count on being someone's plaything." He paused, looking around again. "I know that's not what you want to hear, and that none of this is what you'd choose, but we all get dealt cards. You can play them or fold. It won't be easy here. I won't even pretend that's the case, but it can be better than the alternative. If you do your best, and don't let me down, I will do everything in my power to help you and make your life easier. I have resources, but you'll have to earn your place and my trust." He paused a moment, waiting for a response. When she offered none, he took a flask from his pocket and took a sip. "Good luck." He said simply, and left.

Missti walked back to her cot and sat down. The nerve of the man to tell her she had to earn his trust. Why should she trust him? Why should she trust anyone? So many questions. She considered herself pretty good at detecting lies, and she knew he wasn't be completely honest.  The man was a good liar, obviously well practiced, but a few things were just off. Why did he think she had a good chance of making the team? What evidence did he have of that? If he really knew enough about her to make that determination then he was lying about first seeing her in the prisoner cells. Why hadn't he mentioned her brother at all when she asked about her family, only addressing him when she specifically asked. You should have made up another name, a fake sibling, and asked, she chided herself. She had to be smarter than this.

She was beginning to suspect something much larger going on. She was always suspicious of her father and brother, being pretty sure they were up to something grand in scale. As she'd gotten older, things she witnessed and, more importantly, things that were kept from her started to create a dangerous picture in her mind. She had been insulated from a lot of what was going on. Too many conversations between her father and his friends, or her father and brother, had suddenly gone quiet when she entered the room. All of that considered, she didn't think for a second that this is what they had been up to. Her father's rage and horror on the night of their capture was enough proof of that, in her mind.

She had to find out where her brother was, and try to reach him. That meant playing along or, as the scout would say, "playing her cards." She put her head in her hands and cried softly. She was determined, but she was still scared, and she wept for her parents and their pain.