Page 92 of Redemption
The man in green lifts his hand to the woman in front of him, the tips of his fingers vibrating with fury. “Look at her. She doesn’t want this.”
“Of course she does,” David disagrees abruptly. “Go ahead. Ask them.” He turns to the woman in front of the guy in green, smiling down at her as he skates his hand up her bare back until it settles on her shoulder. “Are you here willingly, my cherub?”
She hesitates, looking back at us before returning to David. She licks her lips, obviously distressed, but then whispers, “Yes. I want this.”
“Good girl,” David praises, kissing her forehead briefly before turning back to the line of men.
Just then, the couple in the back reach a crescendo in their thrusts as moans, groans, and boisterous ecstasy ring out loud in the otherwise silent space. He finishes with a growl and smacks the woman on her ass once before withdrawing and walking away, leaving her with nothing but a reddened handprint as she lies in a slump on the small, forgotten table. The man doesn’t look back. Doesn’t check on her. Just exits the way he came just as quickly as he arrived. The woman, however, curls into herself, wrapping a hand in between her legs as if she’s making sure not a drop of his cum leaves her while she waits patiently.
“You’re fucking crazy,” the man in green continues, undeterred by the woman’s voiced permission. “None of them actually want this. You’re coercing them. I saw how they practically fought one another for the bread you threw at them earlier. Is that how you’re doing this? Fuck for food? While the community buffets are overflowing with nourishment three fucking times a day?! You fucking bastards. You and all those people in the back are just sick fucks that need to be—”
*BANG*
A deafening shot rings out as a bullet exits the backside of the man’s head. His eyes are still wide open as brain matter explodes from the wound cavity before his body falls to the ground midsentence. The women around us scream but remain in position on the tables, their undiluted terror filling the air around us as the scent of smoke and burnt flesh lingers. Bloodpools at my feet, the gruesome evidence slowly continuing its path down the line until all our boots are marked by this man’s sacrifice.
“Now...,” David starts, walking down the line of us while casually wiping the bloody spray off the barrel of his gun with a handkerchief from his pocket. “Let me be... very plain. I don’t want anyone else to get any ideas that we mean to degrade these women. We are the last of the human race. If we do not procreate, we will die out and the virus wins. To survive, we need to do this. There is no choice. We live or we die. Whether all together or one at a time. You want to live? You need to carry on a line. A lineage. A pedigree of strong, capable, intelligent individuals that can withstand the elements and the virus. You’ve all been tested. Scientists have confirmed that the virus only affects certain blood types when airborne. Yours... are immune to such transmission. And after verifying your sperm counts, you’re as virile as we can hope for. Because of this, it is your responsibility to produce offspring that can also survive the outbreak. To allow the human race a chance at survival. It is your duty.”
“No.” A single word of direct opposition interrupts his repugnant speech, but it’s just enough to have every set of eyes turning to meet mine.
David tilts his head in response. “Excuse me?” he asks, the question teeming with vexation. “I tend to try and block out poor manners in my vicinity. What was it that you just so rudely interrupted me with?”
“I said, ‘No.’”
He scoffs at my disobedience, shaking his head as he takes in my unyielding stance. “We live... or we die, son. While I will always hope for a steady stream of variety to be added tothe gene pool, it is not a necessity. A single, honorable man can accomplish the impossible. As such, I will not waste resources on those who refuse to comply.”
“You can fuck right off,” I reply, his threats not worth the scar on my soul. “There’s no way I’m going to be forced into having sex with this woman. No one should have to. This is barbaric.”
David rolls his eyes, not bothered one bit as he waves his gun around amid conversation. Like it’s a fucking normal thing to do. “Ok... I do love a good old-fashioned debate, but this is getting a tad bit redundant and, frankly, aggravating. What if I give you this retort? If you do not mount this woman and spill your seed inside her... as many times as I deem necessary... I will kill her where she kneels.” I try not to show any outward response, but my eyes widen regardless.
This man is insane.
Certifiably insane.
His hand waving the gun around gets more animated as his frustrations climb. “Today, tomorrow, next Tuesday, I don’t give a rat’s ass. She is a fertile woman, but her husband has been plagued with the unfortunate stigma of sterility. If she is unable to bear children because a man refuses to lie with her, then she has outlived her usefulness. And if that’s the case....” He aims the gun at her.
A gasp comes from the side as a man I didn’t see comes barreling forward. “No. Please. It’s not her fault. It’s mine. Please. Please don’t do this!”
“Ah, hello, Casper. Your wife looks lovely today, doesn’t she?”
Wife? Oh hell no.
With short gasps of breath, he takes her in. The woman he chose to marry, on all fours, naked, and spread out to be used. He lifts a trembling hand to her face and she leans in to the soft touch, closing her eyes upon contact. Casper smiles softly down at her, his words shuddering as he responds, “She’s always beautiful.”
“That she is,” David confirms. “Would be a shame if her head were no longer there because one person objected to our regeneration project.”
The man, Casper, looks up at me imploringly, rushing to my side in an instant. “Please. I’ve tried. We’ve been trying for months, but I... I can’t. No matter what we do or how many times we make love, we can’t seem to get pregnant.” I start to shake my head, my eyes widening as I understand what he’s about to ask of me. “Please... They won’t let us leave. And this? It’s not her fault. It’s mine. She doesn’t deserve to die for this. Please.” At my lack of response, he continues, gripping the front of my sweatshirt in his fists, “I’m begging you. Please. Help me save her.”
Fuck....
FUCK....
Reluctantly, I nod. This whole situation is fucked. In order to keep them from killing her, I need to have sex with his wife with the hope she becomes pregnant as a result. I have no other choice. If I don’t, they’ll kill her. But if I do, it might kill me.
∞∞∞
Present...
“I’m not proud of what I’ve had to do. What I still need to do to keep up the façade of working for them. I’ve come to know the people there—who’s happy and content in the false promise of community and who isn’t. They’ve become my adopted family, and, as such, I made it my mission to help those who wanted to escape do so.”
