Monsters - Chapter 33 – The Raid – Part 2 of 2

 Monsters

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 33 – The Raid – Part 2 of 2

 

Carol.  Had Brandy imagined that she had been there?  Probably.  Just another memory she would be better now doing without.  Just another fantasy of being rescued that she would be better off without.  Rescue was impossible.  All she wanted to do was to die…completely.  She was already dead inside.  She just needed some way to finish the rest of the job.  The only thing different now was…she could no longer feel the weight of the bucket hanging from her breasts.  Was it gone?  Was it really gone, even for just a little while?  Or was she no longer capable of feeling that kind of pain from her breasts again?  She hoped the later was true.  In fact, she didn’t want to feel any pain anywhere in her body anymore.

She was fading back to sleep again when she heard the door opening.  There were new women in the room.  No doubt they were about to get the lecture about being nothing but three holes.  But then she realized that whatever men had come into the room were right next to her, then one of them in front of her.  None of them talked to her.  None of them said anything.  She simply waited to see one of them pull down his fly or perhaps one of them would stick his big stinking cock up her ass.  But instead, the men seemed to be examining her cage.  Going over it carefully.  They all spoke a language she didn’t know, so she didn’t understand anything they were saying, but she soon heard a few metallic sounds, then there was someone on each side of her head and she was being lifted straight up.  The blank beige wall in front of her suddenly started growing further away as she realized she was being carried toward the door.  Her peripheral vision had a brief glimpse of the rear ends of the three new women in the room as she was carried through that door.

Had Carol been real?  Had what she thought Carol had said been real?  But her mind could no longer deal with that thought any further.  She was nothing now.  She would always be nothing.

 

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The gunshot barely missed Carol and she dove to the side of the stairs, then almost as fast, she was running up those steps, moving back and forth across the wide stairs, taking them two or three at a time.  Gunshots came, but with her weaving, none of them hit her.  When she got high enough, she suddenly stopped, and two bullets carved out chunks of wooden stairs above her where they thought she would be running.  Instead, Carol quickly brought her guns up.  She could see two men above her now.  Her bullets found each of them.  No more bullets came down at her as she climbed the rest of the way up.

Knowing that she had been spotted now, she was more careful than ever.  She headed one direction along the hallway at the top of the stairs.  Two men suddenly appeared.  Men with automatic weapons.  She shot one but the other one was already shooting before she could kill him.  She dove into an open doorway to get out of the way as bullets splattered all over the place for a moment.  She quickly poked her head and gun out the doorway and shot him dead before he could pull the trigger again.  Automatic weapons were great, if you knew how to use them.  Otherwise, they just splattered bullets all over the place since they were so difficult to aim for more than just the first shot. 

She moved on.  She caught sight of the gun barrel as it was coming out of a doorway before she saw the body of the man following it.  Another automatic weapon.  She dove for the floor, her gun already aiming.  She fired and killed the man before he had a chance to turn fully in her direction.  She stayed there waiting to see if anyone else would follow, but nobody else did.

She picked herself up and continued down the hallway.  The few doors she passed were all open.  She looked briefly into each room but all of them appeared to be empty.  So why were the men she just killed where they were?  She could only think of one reason.  To protect Alfonso.

 

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Brandy’s head was spinning.  Cold air washed over her body as she was carried out through another door.  She was outside!  It was dark though so she couldn’t see much.  She felt the back of her cage being set down, and then she was pushed – into a vehicle of some sort.  The doors nearly hit her face as they were quickly closed the moment she was in.

What was happening?  She felt the van moving.  Did she dare hope this was a rescue?  Or was someone else grabbing her for their own bit of fun.  A trophy for another wacko.  That seemed more likely.

But the men spoke Chinese…she thought.  Carol’s friends from Wu Enterprises had all been Chinese.  Did she dare to hope?  But hope was too fleeting a concept for her brain to hang onto.

 

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Carol approached the open door carefully.  If Alfonso was in there and had protection, she had no doubt there would be a number of guns aimed at the doorway.  Keeping low near the floor, she quickly poked her head out and glanced into the room.  She saw two men there.  Only one of them had a gun aimed anywhere near her.  She didn’t see a gun in the hands of the other man at all, only in the hand of the larger of the two men.  The odd thing she noticed right away about both men though, was that they each had one hand raised in the air, and they were each holding something in those hands.  It was easy for Carol to guess – gas!  She slowly stood up, watching the gun in the big man’s hand carefully, her own gun at waist level but aimed at him.

“Now!” the smaller of the two men yelled.  Both men brought their arms down quickly, throwing the small vials of gas to the floor and breaking them.  Both men turned and grabbed gasmasks and pulled them on as the room quickly filled with the gas.

Carol simply stood where she was in the doorway and watched them carefully, the suit she was wearing was still protecting her perfectly from the effects of the gas.

The two men were surprised that the gas wasn’t having any affect on the woman.  She simply continued to stand in the doorway where they both knew the gas should have knocked her out by now.  The larger of the two men looked the woman over carefully, keeping his gun aimed directly at her chest.  She was dressed from head to toe in some kind of black suit that even covered her face.  Even her eyes were covered by some kind of lenses.  “Who are you supposed to be?” he joked through his gasmask, “Batgirl?”

“No,” Carol replied.  “Death!”  With that, her finger tightened against the trigger of her gun and she shot the large man right in the middle of his forehead.  She turned to the smaller man.  The man without a gun.  The man that was now looking far more frightened.  “Let me guess.  You must be Alfonso.”

“You’re…you’re the one Vince wants so badly.  The one called Death!” Alfonso said, his voice muffled by the gasmask he wore.

“Aw.  You guessed!” Carol said as she raised her gun and pointed it at his head.

“No!  Don’t!” Alfonso said as he cringed away.

Carol walked closer to him, keeping the gun pointed at his head while her other hand stowed her other gun away in her suit.  The man cringed but there was no place he could really run to.  Carol kept going until she pressed the gun right up against his temple.  “Where’s Beastman?” she asked threateningly.

“I…I don’t know!”

Carol pressed her gun harder against his head.  “Where is he?” she demanded louder.

Alfonso cringed down, trying to get the gun away from his head, but Carol followed him, keeping the pressure up and pushing even harder.

“Where is he?” she hissed angrily.

“L…Los Angeles.  Where we grew up.”

Carol reached out and ripped the gas mask from his face, hurting him more than a little.  She didn’t need to do anything else as the gas in the room had him unconscious in moments.  She pulled out her phone and called one of the Wu agents.  “I’ve got Alfonso.  He’s…sleeping.  I’ll bring him down to the back door.”

“Bring him out the front instead,” the agent replied.  “We have a van there ready and waiting.  The building appears to be secured.  No sign of trouble from anyone else yet.”

“Did you get Brandy?”

“She’s already on her way to the destination.”

“Good!  I’ll be there in two minutes.”  She ended the call and hefted Alfonso over her shoulder.  She carried him out of the room and down the staircase.  The van was waiting right at the front door.  Alfonso was loaded in the back where an agent secured his hands and feet for the long ride ahead.  Carol went back through the building, stopping at a few of the rooms on the way out where she found more women in those cages.  Going through the back door, she retrieved her helmet, and spent a few moments looking at all the women in the dog cages – all of them on all fours.  All of them with dog collars on their necks.  All of them watching her curiously.  She left them all there.

Once she was back at her bike, she phoned Susan Wu.  “I’m out.  There’s a lot of dead men inside the main building and the women are just as Sally and Bryce described them.  I suggest you make the call.”

 

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In her private limousine, on her way back to Janice’s mansion in Nevada, Susan Wu grabbed a burner phone and punched in a number.  She knew her call would be recorded.  She gave a description of where Alfonso’s property was located along with a brief description of what could be found there.  She ended the call and pulled the battery from the phone.  She would throw it away as soon as she got the chance.

The call had been to a hotline for the FBI.  It would be up to them now to deal with the women and men they would find at Alfonso’s property.

 

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Instead of the dull beige wall, All Brandy could see was the closed van doors that were only inches from her face.  It was less to see than she had before – and more.

For a brief little while, something resembling a tiny spark of hope had gone through her.  But as the monotonous hours continued to pass, with only a tiny portion of the too close back doors of the van to see, and not a word spoken to her, the spark of hope was lost.  The spark of hope had been almost nothing to begin with.  Her mind had long ago ceased to function fully.  It could no longer process anything but the immediate situation and what was physically happening to her, which was either sex for some man, or once in a great while being cleaned and fed.  Her entire life. 

The fact that she was no longer in that room mattered nothing anymore.  She was still in the same position, the same situation.  She couldn’t move, she couldn’t see anything worth seeing.  As always, she was ignored unless someone wanted something.  Nothing mattered.  She didn’t matter.  She was nothing.  She was…a piece of furniture.  A thing.  Useless.  Except when men wanted to abuse her.  And even that, meant less to her now than it used to.  Nothing mattered to a thing.  Nothing mattered, because she was nothing. 

But in the back of her mind, a memory refused to go away. 

The memory of a person.  Carol.