Chapter 13

There was an error in the last chapter. The president was offered a month to make his decision on the human sacrifice deal, but the sacrifice would have to be made weekly, not monthly. Sorry for the mistake.

Deal with the Devil

If there was one upside to Dominion’s presence, it was that there was no danger of any other country trying to take over. With most of America’s military eradicated, this should have been a dream come true for all her enemies and two-faced allies, the perfect chance for a Red Dawn invasion. It would be so easy for Canada to move in from the north and Mexico from the south, for Russia and China to attack from the west and the UIR or even Europe to attack the east coast, but not only would that mean antagonizing a nuclear superpower or even destroying one the greatest obstacles in Dominion’s way, it would mean putting their own troops within range of that monster.

Should any country succeed, should they take over and abolish the United States and declare the land to be their territory, then they would be the ones facing Dominion. There was nothing the US had, no weapon or technology that could be stolen, no resource exploited, that would be worth the danger. So far, Dominion only seemed to be focusing his gaze on expanding southward, deeper into the US, but the Canadians were terrified, sharing a border with his demonic kingdom.

That being the case, President Collins could now redirect every military asset he had left from defense to internal control. With Dominion threatening the country, Congress was willing to go with just about anything, but only the president’s inner circle knew about the deal set up.

Every soldier was now being used to support local law enforcement and enact the new draconian rule. The rights of citizens, both free and incarcerated, were deteriorating by the day. Across the country, anyone guilty of even a minor infraction was beaten and arrested, often with several guns pressed to the backs of their heads. The time between the failed Augusta invasion and the president’s declaration had ripped cracks open in society, allowing chaos and desire to grip the hearts of the people, but that just gave the police a bountiful harvest of criminals. Anyone out on the streets, no matter the time, could be stopped and frisked, and even the suspicion of a crime was enough for someone to get slapped in a pair of cuffs and hauled off.

Houses in low-income areas, especially minorities, had their doors kicked in by SWAT teams, searching for drugs or other contraband. No warrants, no probable cause, no warning, just the need to fill a quota. Families would be forced against the wall while their homes were ripped apart, searching for anything illegal. When nothing was found, it was planted. Often, the cops would make up some sign of child abuse or endangerment and arrest the parents. It wasn’t long before figures in the media were arrested for “sabotaging the war effort”, and anyone protesting or speaking out against the situation was hauled away with a black bag over their head.

While many soldiers and police opposed the situation, the vast majority went along with it. After seeing the failed Augusta invasion, they were desperate for any kind of hope. This new anti-crime push, it gave them a fightable enemy, someone to blame. It gave them back some of the power that Dominion had taken, letting them once again be the apex predators and feel confident in their own authority and strength. It let them feel like they were doing something to contribute, that their efforts were actually making a difference and making the country stronger. It gave them something to do, so that they wouldn’t wallow in their helplessness and wait for death.

Before the war against the undead, the US had the highest rate of incarcerated citizens per capita. Once again, that fact rang true, but now with even more people being arrested. The prisons were stuffed until overflowing, even the smallest cells now holding up to four people. When they couldn’t hold any more people, internment camps were built, buildings seized as part of eminent domain. Not everyone went to prison, of course. A practice strongly used in the Napoleonic wars, penal military units were formed, criminals conscripted into service as either a punishment or a means of avoiding jail time. It was the only way to even begin recouping the losses from the failed Augusta attack.

This nightmare was easier to perpetuate than one might imagine. Collins was constantly holding big rallies and making speeches, turning fascism into patriotism. Despite originally being a moderate Democrat, the right wing relished this change in Collins and hopped on the bandwagon, pushing it even farther to nurture their fundamentalist ideals.

Anyone who didn’t support the president or criticized him automatically supported Dominion! Dominion was the Devil and America was God’s chosen kingdom, and to submit to the government was every citizen’s Christian duty! America’s laws were God’s laws, and God’s laws were America’s laws, so unchristian acts must be deemed illegal! They had plenty to work with, and after seeing the footage of Dominion’s monsters eviscerating the American military, the citizens were scared enough to believe in anything.

Despite how well Collins’s “plan” was working, he went to sleep each night hating himself and feeling sick with disgust. To stop Dominion, he had betrayed everything he believed in and taken this fascist path. Whenever he made a speech, it was like putting on an ugly mask. He wished desperately that he could believe his own hype, that what he was doing was right and good and that he was infallible, God’s chosen president, but he knew the horrible truth, the whole reason why he was doing this. He wasn’t even certain if he was even saving his country or if he was actually selling it out. The day was coming when he’d have to make the first ... shipment.

Then, of course, there was Dominion, glued to the TV with a big smile on his face as he watched the news. The tyranny, the mass incarceration, the concentration camps; Collins was so desperate to keep Dominion from advancing that he was doing the exact same thing as Dominion. Under the banner of the American flag, Dominion’s slaves were being captured, incarcerated, and transported to him. The only real difference was that it wasn’t his resources being used to do it. It was outsourcing, the US expanding his kingdom for him without his forces having to take a single step past the border. The irony was sweeter than sugar.

Truly fascinating, the resurrected humans kept Dominion’s interest. Two large enclosures had been built, as large as barns, with the pairs separated and allowed to explore. The regular output pairs, E003 and E004, they acted similarly to gorillas. They usually moved on all fours, rarely standing up, and even then, in an ape-like slouch. They each had mattresses with bedding to sleep on, were given both children’s toys and objects from their former lives, and were fed three square meals a day.

They seemed to possess some memory, at least towards objects. They would hold old phones to their ears, attempted to dress themselves, and scrawled on surfaces with crayons. It seemed like muscle memory lasted even after death, flickers of their old lives saved in their neurons like snapshots. However, all personal links were forgotten. Dominion had given them trinkets of various religions; crucifixes, the Star of David, and other such symbols, but the man and woman didn’t give them any real attention. They seemed curious at first, but got bored after playing with them like toys for a few minutes. They didn’t talk, simply made noises, but sometimes if they both heard a word spoken, they’d imitate it, something which even a parrot could do.

The male and female seemed to get along, occasionally fighting over things but never getting too rough with each other. No intimate contact had yet been seen, but sometimes the male would experience an erection and become confused. The instinct to breed had yet to manifest itself. Would they have to figure out the mechanics of sex like sheltered children, or would they remember, if only at a primal, inherited level?

They never saw Dominion or any other outsiders. Food was delivered via a chute in the wall, and their waste was cleaned up while they were asleep. It left them with no cues to copy off of, no culture or behaviors to absorb and mimic. They only had each other, two mirrors reflecting each other, desperately searching their own subconscious minds for an idea of what they were supposed to do and how they were supposed to act. They’d have to develop in almost total isolation. Dominion was already planning on acquiring more specimens and having them live while completely deprived of any social interaction.

Today, he was once again exposing them to fire. He used his powers to put them to sleep, then created a campfire in the middle of the enclosure with a pile of wood nearby, and woke them up. The first time they were exposed to fire, they got too close and immediately burned themselves, then hid in the corner until it died out. The second time, they again retreated to the corner, this time throwing things at it like it was a dangerous animal.

This time, Dominion was lowering the temperature in the enclosure, waiting until they began shivering. At first, they were apprehensive at the fire’s presence, just like before. However, as the cold got to them, their fear of being burned served to remind them of what the fire had to offer, and eventually got close to it to stay warm. Then, as it began to fizzle out, the male noticed the firewood and had the genius idea to add more. Very impressive.

Dominion left them and reset the thermostat. Now it was time to see E001 and E002, the real stars. When Dominion first gave them their batteries, they did nothing but writhe and scream, stuck in a permanent seizure as their bodies were injected with more power than they could handle. However, that eventually changed. They underwent extensive mutations, their batteries forcing them to adapt and become new hosts that could handle the power surging through them.

The first to change was their muscles, growing and toughening so fast and with so much force that they broke the subject’s bones, but that just served as the segue for their own evolution. The bones in their legs extended and they became digitigrades, meaning they walked on their toes with the soles of their feet raised off the ground, making them taller and giving them greater speed and jumping power, just like the legs of the enhanced sentinels.

Their spines had adjusted for them to be able to move on all fours and on two feet. Dominion had read years ago that humans started walking upright to free their hands for carrying tools, but their spines didn’t have enough time to fully evolve and adapt to this new trait and remain undeveloped. These new mutations had erased that problem.

Their ribs became more pronounced, better protecting their internal organs, which themselves had adapted to become stronger and function more effectively. Their arms became stronger, while their hands mutated to grow second thumbs next to their pinkies. Their faces were relatively the same as before, but their teeth had sharpened and their eyes became keener.

With every breath they took, the sides of their noses would inflate like croaking frogs, as their hyper-sensitive olfactory receptors analyzed every scent. Their ears had also grown to take in more sound, and their eyes had become keener. Lastly, their thin hair had been replaced with manes of thick whiskers, like a cat’s, adding even more sensory data. Their skin was even starting to change.

Their brains were also operating at a much higher level than their fellow test subjects. They solved puzzles even faster than normal people could, learned lessons faster, and had remarkable memory. Yet they had failed to develop any kind of complex language, pay attention to symbolism, or cherish anything that wasn’t either useful or physically comforting. Interesting, that their processing and intelligence would skyrocket, but they completely lacked human creativity or the ability to create meaning. They spent their time zooming around their enclosure to expend their energy, and investigating everything around them, searching for stimulus.

“Anything interesting occur?” he asked, speaking to a guard observing them through an array of monitors. Someone was always watching his test subjects, just in case they became violent with each other or tried to escape.

“Nothing, Lord Dominion,” the young man nervously said, too scared to even turn in his chair to look at him. “Those weirdos keep ripping out the cameras, though.”

Dominion simply hummed and checked the time. He had scheduled a strategy meeting with his subordinates in a few minutes. Without another word, he stepped into the shadows and vanished, letting the guard release his held breath. He reappeared in his office, where his subordinates were already waiting for him on bended knee.

“Rise,” he said, striding past them to the table set up in the center of his office, with a map of New Hampshire stretched across. It was the only state that shared a border with Maine, so there was nowhere else to invade.

“Are the preparations set?” he asked.

“Yes, My Lord,” said Blight, standing by the table. “All necessary troops have been moved into position, and aerial reconnaissance has shown that the state hasn’t been evacuated.” As he spoke, he used his saber to move figurines of their monsters across the map like chess pieces. Armies of spawn were ready and waiting just miles from the state border, well out of range of military scouts. He and the US were currently in a ceasefire, but if people saw his troops amassing, it would cause a panic and everyone would flee New Hampshire before he could even invade.

“Collins won’t want to reshuffle the people. He’s fighting so hard to retain control of his country that he can’t afford the chaos that an order of evacuation would cause.”

“Unfortunately, I do not believe we have enough forces to subdue the entire state. While they cannot put up with a fight, it would be all too easy for the people to flee, even if we set up a perimeter around the state.”

“You’re suggesting we take a smaller zone?”

“Not too small. Highway 83 cuts the state in half. We can use that as natural border to establish a perimeter, from Littleton to the north to Nashua down on the southern border, though the Canadian border will still be an issue. Best of all, we can seize both Manchester and Concord.”

“Very well. Adam, how is our food situation?”

“We are currently experiencing a surplus thanks to salvage and looting, but we’ve estimated that to run out within the next few weeks. After that, we have enough food to keep the current population fed for about three months. Four, if we limit rations. Fortunately, your idea to add human meat to the stew and meal bars is protecting our protein reserves.”

“Hmmm, New Hampshire may be a culling state rather than a slave state. Once the ground fully thaws, we can begin farming and that will solve our food problem. Ishtar, is the Portland train yard ready to receive the first shipment tomorrow?”

“Yes, as well as the passenger station. Wherever that train stops, we’ll be able to easily unload every prisoner. But Master, if I may ask, how do you know the president will really go through with it? Wouldn’t it be best to reassign Scourge to spying?” Scourge released a loud hiss, warning Ishtar that she was speaking out of place in criticizing Dominion’s plan. Blight and Adam were likewise shooting her dirty looks. “My apologies, sire. It’s not my place to question you.”

“To answer your question, Collins is putting in far too much effort for this to simply be a ruse. He will deliver, and on the off chance he doesn’t, or is late, we’ll be ready to advance our line.”

It was dawn, the 23rd of March, and President Collins hadn’t gotten any sleep. He had spent the night staring out his window, wondering if he was really going to go through with the deal. He was having doubts, resigning himself to trying to find another way. He hoped, he prayed, that at any moment, one of his aides would burst into his bedroom, announcing that some group of scientists or allied nation had figured out a surefire wat to stop Dominion. Then, as the sun began to rise, a terrifying vision drifted over his eyes like cataracts. The light of the sun, the way it shined on the city of Washington DC, its rays baring on the dark clouds that had not fully accepted the ender of winter, it looked like flames. He could see them, the buildings burning, with people screaming in terror as monsters flooded the streets. America had fallen. No, not yet, but it would fall soon. All he could do was buy time.

Collins rushed into his bathroom and threw up. This had been happening frequently, his body unable to handle the stress. It was getting harder and harder to hide it from his subordinates, and every day, he could feel his health deteriorating. Maybe he’d get lucky and have a heart attack. Until then, all he could do was give the order.

These were chaotic times, and chaos creates cover and anonymity. Anyone with the know-how and power could away with whatever they wanted, as everyone else was busy just trying to stay alive and hold onto the dwindling stability in their lives. The same was true for President Collins.

The country had become a battlefield between the lawless scourge and the new authoritarian government, and with so many people being arrested, the line of prison buses was completely unnoticed in the early morning, even as they pulled into a train yard north of Philadelphia. This spot was chosen because it was far enough from DC to avoid getting noticed, and far enough from Maine that the prisoners wouldn’t realize what was going on.

There, men and women of equal number, all with shaved heads and prison uniforms, were ushered off the buses and onto train cars, meant for cargo instead of people. The soldiers guiding them were sworn to secrecy, same with the train conductor. One thousand people, all forced onto a single train. They had been moved around so much, most just assumed they were being taken to a new prison. They were herded like cattle, forced into the steel boxcars with only enough room to stand and barely any fresh air.

The train then departed, with soldiers stationed at the ends of each car. They moved north, with the path before them cleared of any other traffic. There were two soldiers stationed outside on the caboose, able to watch the scenery change. Spring was soaking into the landscape, but the farther north they went, the more lifeless things became. New England was still full of people, simply because the citizens had nowhere else to go. To give up their homes, their livelihoods, with nowhere else to go would render them destitute. Those with means had already fled, but for the rest, they couldn’t afford to move, and could only wait to the last minute and cling to the hope that that last minute would never arrive.

Others, who already had nothing, simply packed up what little they had into backpacks and duffle bags and decided to migrate on foot. Countless refugees walked south along the train tracks, and many would turn their heads when the train passed them by. Upon seeing the soldiers at the caboose, their eyes would widen, suddenly understanding what the cargo was. They’d either become dead still, like statues, gripped by despair as they realized how dire the situation was, or they’d turn around and walk even faster, knowing more than ever that they had to get as far away from Dominion’s empire as possible.

The closer the train got to Maine, the more sorrowful the scenery became. Houses along the tracks were often boarded up, either abandoned or reinforced for added protection from whatever threat may come knocking, be they marauders of Dominion’s beasts. There were signs put up, warning that the Apocalypse had begun, and that to the north lay the true Megiddo Valley.

Then, when they crossed the state border into Maine, a chill crawled up everyone’s spine, both soldier and prisoner alike. It was the presence of evil, it permeated the air like a noxious miasma. The prisoners then realized where they were, where they were being taken, and began to panic, beating their fists against the walls of the boxcars and screaming to be let out. The soldiers, hearing this, struggled not to give in. They had been told what they were doing, they had been told of the deal struck with Dominion and what was at steak should they fail, but still, they were overcome with guilt for what they were doing.

Had things really gotten this bad that the president was bribing Dominion in the form of human lives? They wanted to resist, they wanted to stop the train and let everyone escape. They had just crossed the border, maybe there was still time, but they could feel eyes on them, feel the demonic entities in the wilderness watching and waiting. If only to save their own skins, they had to comply.

It was seven minutes to 2:00, closer than the president would have liked. At last, they arrived at a train yard in South Portland, where an army of spawn and collaborators were waiting with buses and trucks. Commanding them was Adam. The train came to a stop and the spawn wasted no time, not even acknowledging the terrified soldiers. They ripped open the doors of the boxcars and seized all of the prisoners inside. The men and women, upon realizing their destination, had planned to come out fighting, to resist their captors with every ounce of strength they had, but when those doors open and the massive fingers of the hulks wrapped around their fragile waists, all that hope, that determination, went up in smoke.

The soldiers simply stepped back, doing whatever they could to stay out of the way of the spawn. The train conductor stayed where he was and prayed with his rosary. The prisoners were counted and put on the buses and trucks, then driven off to Portland for processing. With every last man and woman accounted for, Adam approached the terrified soldiers. They automatically raised their rifles, but didn’t fire, as they knew how useless they were. It was obvious that he was no ordinary human. Adam simply looked down on them, smiling.

“Yes, I understand your feelings. Most people cannot help but stare in awe at my perfect existence. Before you depart, I thought I might offer you the chance to experience the immeasurable glory of serving Lord Dominion. My Master is very generous towards his subordinates. Join us, and your every desire will be met; violence, lust, intoxication, anything. There is no such thing as sin or taboo here.” The soldiers didn’t reply, too terrified to speak. Adam retained his smile and nodded. “Take your time, the positions are always open. I thank you for your service in this matter and hope to see you next week at the same time with a fresh batch. Farewell.”

The mansion basement, originally just a place to stash the Christmas decorations, was now a symbol of terror to Mary and the twins. Not only had Dominion brutally tortured Cho and Hijiri when they spoke out for the first time, but down here was where he had bent Mary to his will, wounding her pride with pleasure beyond words. It seemed like the twins would once again suffer his evil. They were both suspended from the ceiling in sex swings, bound like puppets on strings with their legs forcefully spread and held in stirrups. All they could do was cry in fear of what awaited them. They couldn’t talk, thanks to the ball gags in their mouths.

Dominion wanted to celebrate the first shipment of prisoners and decided to give Cho and Hijiri some attention.

“How shameful of me,” said Dominion as he walked circles around me. “I gave Mary the first lesson, the lesson on pleasure, but I never bothered to give the second, and it occurs to me that I haven’t given you both all of the attention you deserve. So, I’ve decided you’ll both receive my lesson on pain. And this time, we have a larger audience.”

He gestured to Ishtar, Mary, and Nayara, sitting in chairs before the twins. On cue, Ishtar and Nayara happily clapped, eager to see their Master’s methods, while jealous of Cho and Hijiri. To be tortured by the Master, it was something that his succubus creation and mind-broken slave dreamed of. The twins, on the other hand, were barely holding it together. The torment hadn’t even started and their faces were already wet with tears and snot. Mary looked like she was going to be sick, afraid of what horrors she would have to witness.

“Oh, don’t worry. It won’t all be agony. I’ve linked your senses. When one of you feels pain, the other feels pleasure.” He held out his hand with the tip of his index finger glowing red hot. Then he turned to Cho and stabbed the underside of her breast like he was putting out a cigarette. She screamed and writhed, trying to get away, but he couldn’t resist bullying her ample breasts. At the same time, Hijiri was panting and rolling her eyes back. Pure pleasure was running through her as if she had been injected with heroin straight into her spine.

“It also goes the other way. When one of you feels pleasure, the other feels pain.”

Dominion crouched and began licking Cho’s pussy, greedily slurping up her nectar and putting his best techniques to work. Despite the deep burn he had given her, Cho couldn’t stop her moans from escaping as he hollowed her out with his tongue. He had raped her so many times, but his skills in cunnilingus couldn’t be ignored. At the same time, Hijiri was whimpering and crying, feeling like her labia was being scrubbed with steel wool.

“Now then, let’s begin.”

He reached into his pocket, and like some kind of magic trick, drew a long wooden switch. To Ishtar and the slaves, it just looked like a flimsy reed, useful only for kindling. However, the wood was unnaturally tough and lined with very fine thorns. Dominion gave a few practice swings, liking the sound it made as it cut through the air. Ishtar and Nayara gazed at it like a couple of dogs seeing a chew toy, but Mary and the twins struggled to contain their terror.

He gave a hum of approval, then lashed out and struck the toes of Hijiri’s raised foot. She yipped in pain, feeling her skin fray. Cho felt it as well, but for her, it was pleasurable, like her toes were being licked by puppies. Dominion circled behind Hijiri, out of her vision, leaving her to wonder where the pain would come. It was just like when he whipped them. A hard swat under her arm made her cry out. No, this was different from the whipping. This time, there was only a small amount of surface area he could strike, so he was getting more creative, aiming for smaller, more sensitive spots.

Rather than moving on to Cho, he stayed around Hijiri. He struck her toes again, making her whimper, and continued. He bombarded the bottoms of her feet with lashes, all the while, Cho tried to ignore the pleasurable tickle she was feeling. She couldn’t allow herself to feel joy while her sister suffered. Even if it was a trick, some twisted sensation caused by Dominion’s powers, she couldn’t stand the guilt. Dominion eventually stopped and licked the blood from Hijiri’s toes. Next was Cho.

She shook and pulled on her restraints, her mind telling her that it was useless but her instincts telling her to do everything she could to escape. He whipped one of her breasts, right on the burn from earlier. She shrieked, feeling like there were fire ants gnawing on an open wound. He hit her again, this time on the nipple, with the gravel-like thorns sheering the spongy flesh of the duct. More hard swats, all to her breasts, each one leaving a painful scrape wound. Dominion loved to torture her breasts, simply because of the huge disparity between her and her sister. He covered them all over in welts, her grazed flesh reddening as the lashes crisscrossed. Cho screamed and cried, begging her mercy through her gag, but she didn’t expect any, and he didn’t give any.

Next to her, Hijiri, recovering from the lashing to her feet, was now shivering as a pleasant warmth moved through her diminutive breasts. Every sensation Cho felt was flipped and sent to Hijiri. The salt from Cho’s sweat was nestling in her abrasions, stinging her flesh but making Hijiri hum as if receiving a professional massage. Then, the pleasure faded and was replaced by pain. Dominion was sucking on Cho’s breasts like a vacuum cleaner, licking up her blood and tears and kneading her jello-like flesh. To Hijiri, it felt like her breasts were being sunburned, but what did Cho feel? What was the pleasure like that it would invoke this kind of sting?

A flick of his finger, that small movement controlled the ropes holding Hijiri in place. The binds on her legs were raised and brought together, putting her ass on display for the audience. Dominion went to work, violently caning her supple cheeks as if she had done something to enrage him. His breathing, his movements, they were nothing short of wrathful, with every touch of the switch devastating her epidermis. Like before, she shrieked and thrashed in agony, hoping each strike would be the last, only to hear that crack yet again and feel searing heat in her flesh.

Watching her, Ishtar and Nayara couldn’t help but play with themselves. Ishtar was born a masochist, and her best student had been well-trained.