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Dragged… Dragged down to the depths of hell - yet not a cauldron of flames - instead the burn of skin across the rusty metal floor. Nails screeching - breaking - as she was pulled into a musty box of masturbation. Now there would be two to play. The old man’s eyes were beady and yellow with black irises. He didn’t speak, and instead grunted to himself as if he was clearing his throat of slime, yet he never spit. He swallowed the bilge back in, savouring the tang. Yeimi looked out through the bars of her cage and heard a zip.
“Mom, you can’t go. Please. You can make things right with Dad. You still love each other,” Yeimi said when she was a youngling. She gripped onto her mothers arm as she left the apartment.
“There are things you don’t understand,” her mother said, pushing her away and struggling with her bag. What kind of a mother would abandon their child? Yeimi watched as her mother disappeared into the crowd. She too became lost in the swarm of towerfolk. She sat on the cold grey floor and began to cry silently, hiding her face in her knees. Yeimi had a faded beige skin complexion - a tad brown and a bit sickly, dark brown hair, and tumeric eyes. She wore a faded grey tunic with brown pants that were a bit short so that her ankles were cold. It had been one of the harshest winters in ages and ten babies had perished. Those mothers were left without a child; Yeimi was left without a mother.
If the old man had a name Yeimi supposed it would be Orum. After her mother left, her father referred to her mother as one of Orum’s whores; the story was that Orum was a monster who trapped faithless women into his chamber and assaulted them to the point of death until they became his loyal servants. It was because the woman’s heart was so black that she desired such a fate. Yeimi would be kept up at night at the thought of her mother being abused. She was conflicted at the strange feelings she had at that age. She sometimes imagined she was in the place of her mother as she hugged her blanket between her legs.
Orum had a large bottle in his hand filled with a thin grey liquid. There was a fine sediment at the bottom which mixed in when shook. Radio was unheard of in the towerfolk, yet Orum who was a senior state guard had a Television. It was connected to a cassette player which played a choir performance; aching falsetto voices… An organ was played alongside, yet Yeimi had no clue what was making that noise. It was sharp. Musical instruments had been outlawed in the towers for centuries so that people had no idea the sound of them. They sang and drummed with their hands on Torenta Lass - the celebration of the past supreme leaders. Really, it was a time when the state guards relaxed their rules and allowed towerfolk to breathe.
Yeimi remembered her father on Torenta Lass when she was nearing womanhood. He was pathetic; weeping with snot streaked between his fingers and down his pickle chin.
“Cuckolded! Krau! You don’t know what it is like! To be a damn cuckold… It has ruined me. They look at me if I was a eunuch - you look at me like I’m some sort of little girl…”
Yeimi had no sympathy for him. She was leaving to see Sam at the Torrenta Lass celebrations. He had done this to himself. All of it.
Mother was gone… Yeimi did not even know if she was alive.
“There is nothing wrong with being a little girl. I was one,” Yeimi said.
“Yes… Yes you were,” he looked up through the snot and slime. He opened his mouth and bared his teeth like he was about to smile. Yet, he didn’t smile.
“Father?” Yeimi said with an inch of fear in her heart.
It had only occurred to him now that he could have whatever he wanted. Needs must be met. He leapt forward onto Yeimi.
“Not fresh… You have been used… A shame… A shame indeed…” Orum mumbled to himself as he stood over Yeimi’s body erect. She hung from the rack of the cage. She had been sedated by the strange grey liquid; her vein site was indurated.
Cold pinch. He examined her vagina with ash grey tweezers. Over the course of the next few weeks Orum would molest Yeimi. Molest wasn’t the word… Mutilate.
Sam… You beautiful blonde white girl. She was just a girl. Even so, she was perfect. Her eyes were black as midnight and Yeimi thought there were stars within. She smiled for both herself and Yeimi, and as a result Yeimi felt a warmth in her chest. They spent time kissing in her bedroom whilst her secure parents tended a shop and made fresh meals. Take some home for your father, Sam’s father would say - but Yeimi engulfed the food in her own time. What was Samsena doing now? Why did Yeimi push her away? Damn…
“I never liked noses. I want to fuck that hole between your eyes,” Orum smiled holding up a pair of rusty pliers. Cold metal pressure. Pain. She screamed out in pain and begged him to stop. Blood flooded her body in a striaght river down her lips and chest.
“Ah yes…” Orum said, unzipping his pants. Yeimi had no one to blame but herself. Her heart was as black as the void.
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Nightmares realised. Zeiss puked at the sight and smell. It smelt so bad. Musty… Metallic… Pungent like shit and piss. He caught an amused look in Rayon’s face. Damn…
Yeimi inched away to the back of the cage - filled with blood and faeces. She dug her head into her knees as she did as a little girl.
“What is this creature?” Rayon asked Zeiss, “I like her…”
“Damn it… Can’t you be normal? She is a victim of a great evil…” Zeiss said.
“A great evil…” Rayon echoed the words, and then there was a slight smile at the corner of her mouth. Zeiss thought he had seen the smile - but Rayon was expressionless once again.
The room was a small box with cement walls and various tools and knives hanging about. There were bookcases filled with jars and one had a foetus floating within.
“What is this place?” Zeiss whispered to the woman.
“Orum’s…” She said softly, “child are you my salvation - the end to my hell?”
“Child? I am older than you,” Zeiss said.
“I see… An immortal soul…”
Then she saw Rayon behind Zeiss all wide eyed and smiling. She was excited. Thrilled. Yeimi flinched and looked away.
“A demon cannot bring me under for I am at the lowest level of hell…” she said.
Zeiss picked up a rusty axe - he sighed as the axe was dripping with a discharge - then he repeatedly struck the padlock.
“We are getting out of here,” Zeiss said picking up the emaciated woman.
“Back up to the top? To May? I can help with that,” Rayon said.
She began to squeal and click. Then there was a rumble. A dozen rats entered the room and climbed her body.
“Friends… not grub,” she said.
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