The body lays beaten and bloody on the floor. They were breathing, they would not be killed, but they'd had plenty of chances to back out.
"I have to bring you in alive. I even offered you the chance to come peacefully. Why do you guys always insist on doing things the hard way? You want to kill, fine, but missiles like you need to be launched at the proper targets." -- Anon Guest
[AN: Offensensitivity warning for the perspective of a misogynist piece of crap. And slurs.]
The first rule of big bads is... there's always a bigger, badder bad. Think you're the big shark? Meet the megalodon. Think you're the megalodon? Meet... the kraken. It goes on.
Even whales will get eaten.
I learned this while twitching on the floor in a small pool of my own blood, many nerve clusters jangling whenever I tried to move. The one who defeated me looked like my perfect victim and had kicked my ass in seconds. Not fair. Victims are supposed to squeal and plead. Cry at the very least. I like it when they cry.
I managed to croak out, "You... bitch..." in spite of the pain galloping across my face.
She sat on the street next to me, where I could see her, but couldn't reach. "You Dereggers are always the same. Women are bitches whenever they stand up for themselves, express their honest opinion, or fight back." She extracted something from a pocket - I knew she was a slut - and committed a heinous heretical act.
She read.
To me.
"You have been identified as a serial offender with a compulsion to cause pain and harm to otherwise innocent fellow citizens of your polity. As such, an order has been put out by the Cogniscent Rights Committee to bring you in alive for assessment and possible assignment. You will be added to the rolls of Pax Humanis for the betterment of the greater good. Given your established patterns, you will be under strict control during your trainee period." She put the thing back where it came from. "Translated, you're coming with me whether you like it or not. You're coming alive. Which is what passes for good news. The bad news, Binky, is how much of you is coming with me. Call me a rude word again? And I start chopping off digits. Be warned."
I tried to move. Tried to hurt her. That was a mistake. I could barely stop the howl of pain.
She grinned at the strangled grunt that came out. "Oh please do try to fight. Causing people like you true pain?" She came close. Put her lips by my ear. "Gets me off."
"You fucking slut," I blurted.
"That's two," she cooed. "One extra for swearing. We'll roll for fingers or toes when I get you packed away." Her voice dipped into a sultry purr as she said, "I think I'll hog tie you and put you in a tea chest for the first leg."
First leg?
It was a nightmare. She was a nightmare. And the lying bitch kept her promises. When I got to the assessment centre I was missing three fingers and four toes. Each digit added to her macabre jewelry collection.
They wanted to tame me. Make me their attack dog. And since it was that or get given back to her so she could play with me?
Watch me roll over and beg.
[Photo by Aaron Chavez on Unsplash]
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