Part 2: Invasion (18+)

I heard a familiar sound. A cry of men that would make a river of blood spill out. A cry for battle. It was distant and yet so distinct. It didn’t take long for screams to echo through the town and the distorted glow of red and orange flames came in through the small window of my basement.

I can already see it. Those close heard it but before the could do anything they where put down.

The stench of blood and carnage in the air. I was never a fan of the battle field in all my lifetimes, yet even so the feeling of anticipation is making my heart beat wildly.

Truly the worlds are no different from the ones of books. Depictions inspired by true events from perspectives in different lifetimes.

I look up when I heard a clutter.

“Wake up Blaire.”

Seems she’s a light sleeper as she stirred, opening her eyes before slowly sitting up.

I turn my head to her. “I need you to listen to me very carefully. Something bad is about to happen. So no matter what, you have to listen to whatever your brother say. Do you understand?”

It took her a moment to nod her head.

I could tell she immediately understood the moment I spoke. But the slow response probably was as a result of her self isolation.

And for some reason I just wanted to smile. Lucky I stopped myself from doing just that.

“Come.”

I stood up and stood her up. Grabbed my sheets and draped smaller one I had been using as a pillow on her.

“No matter what, do not make a sound.” I took her hand and we made it up the stairs.

Reaching the door I look back at her then press a finger to my lips.

I reach a hand out the push the door slightly, it creaked a little. Guess, I’m lucky they decided not to lock the door today.

Through the gap I checked to see if there was anyone close by.

I see nothing but I hear their voices close.

I could hear Caela’s scream.

Seeing no one close I walked out, Blaire by my side. We will be taking the back door, through the yard and into the back alleys. And from there…

The place looks ransacked as they barged inside.

Out of curiosity I got closer to Caela and Varden’s room. I know my safety should come first but it doesn’t matter anyway.

The door, angled open, from within came a warm glow and shadows moving. The strange voice of people, laughing, and Caela, screaming, pleading to stop and Varden’s low gruff voice calling out her name.

Blaire still by my side I angled myself to the wall and peer through them large gap to see:

On the floor a few pieces of armor. Caela, her cloths tattered and her face a little bruised, on her feet, propped forward. Positioned behind her a man light on armor, clearly from the ones on the floor, on hand pulling on her long hair and the other holding her arms firm behind her back and thrusting his waist roughly back and forth without a care. Her ample bosom jiggling with every thrust. All she could do was scream calling for Varden, who was also badly bruised, for help, tears streaming down to cease but could do nothing. Well she did put up a fight struggling but her actions where barely noticeable.

The other men in the room stood there sneering and laughing at her.

Varden was pinned to the floor by two men, one held his head to look at her being assaulted, desperation and helplessness riddling his entire being, he roared with curses threatening what he would do to them, his voice fading again to a low pleading for them to stop. Moments later closing his eyes.

This is how it is. The attackers let out their desires to them and I’m sure it’s the same out in the town.

If I were to go by the normal scenario, coming into the room and probably from the chaos in town they were alert fought back only to be subdued and this is the outcome. This situation is always the same no matter which world and or timeline, settings I find myself.

“Come now, the show has only begun.”

The one behind Caela pulled her hair harder reeling her upper body in grabbing her neck, whiles still moving his waist. The men pinning Varden down, the one holding his head down tug hard on it, hoisted him to his knees.

“Look.” The man to Varden’s right said into his ear. “Watch your beloved’s face, her reaction, let us real men teach you a lesson on pleasing her. Burn it into your soul and for it will be the last to remember.”

It really is pathetic watching a grown man cry. And yet, oddly, I felt satisfaction watching his despair.

At the angle she was from the corner of her sight if she focused she would definitely see me.

“Help me.” She strained from the man’s grip on her neck. “Help.”

Seeing them do that to her, do I want to go inside and gut them all? To kill them for the hurt they are putting her through?

No. Not in the least.

She continued her plea with its accompanying expressions, terror, sorrow.

And Blaire? She had now moved to watch quietly. I know for a fact that a child could very well tell the atmosphere of a situation. Probably a subconscious reflex, a remnant of past lives, their reactions and others, but she only watched blankly, not a flicker of panic of any sort.

A sane person would have told her not to look or cover her eyes, to see and hear what was happening to her parents but I was not sane, just a bar away from, nor did I care. She would come to know the cruelty of life, she had to know earlier, if she truly wants to survive.

“Luckily the Commander didn’t say not to do anything to this backwater bumpkins. At least women are pleasing enough. It must be the same for others.” One man sneered.

“I want in on this action.” One of the two holding torches gave his to the other and stepped forward unclasping his [penal guard] and let few what it held.

He stood before Caela and raise his hand groping he bosom giving a squeeze. Having his fill of her breasts he clutched her hair forcing her upper body down from from the other man’s hold on her necks.

Gripping her lower jaw with his free hand he stuck what he had into her month.

“Bite me and your death will be anything but painless..” He warned.

And so I watched, seeing that pleading gaze she was sending, gagging.

What did she expect me, a child, only Nine to do? Save her? What strength did I have? What training did I get? A weak nine year old to fight an adult?—Now where have I heard this before, rather its versa. To put my life in danger to save hers?

Moments later, clearly having enough of everything, her face scrunched and we heard a scream.

“AAAHH!!!”