Chapter 23: Blood Work

Lance Corporal Mark Brody had been in the Confederate Marines for three years. Three long, hard years of meeting the Sa’arm – the Dickheads – on planets whose names he couldn’t remember if he had known them at all. He’d been in the sandbox for eight years before that. He’d believed he’d seen every manner of way a person could get killed and just about every way a person could get hurt.

What he saw on the screen before him was something else entirely. It was made all the worse because it had been done by one human being to another.

And he had to lie about it. He had to tell the shit who had done this, who had abused and nearly killed two innocent young girls, it was alright. He had to say it was expected. He had to tell the fucking prick he was almost a hero for doing it.

It ate at him, the lie he needed to tell. It was almost more than he could bear, almost more than he could ask of himself.

He’d do it, though. He knew he would. He’d do it because his Sergeant had asked him to and he owed his Sergeant and his Lieutenant more than he could ever repay.

He knew, though, this lie was just one step too far. This lie was crossing his own personal line of morality. This lie he – a hardened Marine – would have nightmares about for a long time to come.

“Bitches, right?” He said, willing his face into a smile before turning around. “Sometimes they just need to be fucked.”

“I know, right?” Leo chortled, his chest thrown out. “How the hell was I supposed to know my pecker was too big for their tiny holes?”

“I mean,” Leo bragged, “pussies and assholes are supposed to stretch – so how was I to know I’d split ‘em wide open with the monster between my legs.”

‘Because you should have used fucking lube, you jack-ass,’ Brody said to himself. He remembered the hairline fracture to the jaw and the skull on one of them, the broken ribs and bleeding scalp of the other. ‘You’re not supposed to fucking beat them and then fuck them dry.’

He never lost his smile. As much as it pained him, as much as he wanted to scream bloody murder at the stupid fuck in front of him, he kept his smile and kept the lie going. He stuck to his script. “Ain’t your fault, man. Bitches be bitches. They need to learn to loosen the fuck up and get fucked by real men like you, you know?”

“Damn straight,” Leo crowed proudly. “Maybe I should tell the Doc to loosen their pussies and assholes while they’re here. That way they might be able to fit my big cock in their holes. All they’re good for, anyway.”

“Maybe,” Brody smiled reasonably. Leo didn’t notice the smile never made it to the man’s eyes. “Might be a good idea. You have to be careful, though, you know? You kill them, you might have to wait on a replacement or two.”

“Shit,” Leo chuckled. “I kill these hoes, I’ll just take me a couple more. We’re Reapers, right? We take what we want and shit out the rest!”

“Yeah,” Brody agreed, the words almost gagging in his throat. “I bet you already know who you’re going to replace them with, huh?”

“Oh yeah,” Leo grunted, licking his lips. “Real fire-pussy. Natural, not like these stupid-ass cunts. She’s a firecracker – wants me, too, but she got stuck with a real pansy.”

He shrugged. “You know I’m gonna take her either way – so if these slopes die, I’ll just move her right in.”

“What about the pansy?” Brody asked wryly. Somehow, he already knew the answer. He could see everything leading up to this – and he wasn’t sure he wanted any part of it.

Why would Sarge want to sick this stupid ass fuck on someone like that? He didn’t know – but he knew he wanted out before this whole thing blew up in someone’s face.

“We’re fucking Reapers!” Leo bragged. “I’ll fuck him up and take all his women. He don’t deserve them anyway.”

Brody could only nod, his eyes wandering around the room trying to find some way out of this fucked up conversation. He told himself the Sarge couldn’t be part of this, that he wouldn’t be part of this. It had to be some cock-up, pushing the aggression of this fucked-up jerk. The Sarge couldn’t know about this guy’s apparent vendetta. He just couldn’t.

“Those your kids?” He asked, his eyes settling on them almost in desperation.

“Yeah, those are my brats,” Leo snarled. “Don’t mind them, they’re idiots. Should’a left them with their Ma – but she was too fucking stupid to be allowed to breathe much less raise my brats. I only wish I’d killed her when I had the chance.”

“She was a real looker, though,” Leo continued, his beady eyes on his daughter. “Their Mama. Real looker. The cunt over there looks a lot like her. She’s gonna be a sweet piece when she grows a bit. Nice lips just looking to wrap themselves around a cock. She’s only ten, though, so it’s gonna be a few years. Yes sir, nice lips on her – just begging to be mouth fucked.”

Brody had to get out of there. He couldn’t stand the man any longer. If he had to stay, he was going to kill the dumb fuck with his bare hands. He’d be court-martialed and probably killed – but he was thinking it might be worth it. The universe definitely needed one less Leo Gunter.

“Alright, man, I gotta go,” he said suddenly, feeling almost as if he might throw up.

“Later, Brody,” Leo grunted, turning his face to the medic. The medic was looking at him with apparent disgust. For a moment, Leo thought about going over there and wiping the sour expression right off the jackass’s face. Maybe rip his head off and skull-fuck him.

At the last second, he decided not to. What the fuck did he care if the asshole approved of him or not. Fucking Navy or Deco puke.

“How much fucking longer are they gonna be in there?” He demanded of the attendant.

“At least another two hours,” the medic replied. In truth, they were almost done but the medic was going to delay their release as long as he could. Any time he could save them from being in this asshole’s company was a kindness.

“Fuck!” Leo grunted. He stomped over and fell into the seat next to his daughter. “And you two better be silent as mother-fucking mice, you got it?”

As Brody stormed from the medical bay, he nearly ran headlong into Sergeant Bork.

“How’s Leo and his concubines?” The sarge asked Brody.

“Leo’s fine but his concubines,” Brody shook his head, clenching his teeth. “They’re pretty messed up.”

Bork nodded, looking like he was going to continue his walk until Brody spoke up. “Permission to speak freely, Sarge.”

“Of course, Corporal,” Bork replied. “I want you to always speak freely with me.”

“What you’re doing is fucked up, Sarge,” Brody bit out. “Gunter needs to be strung up by his own fucking entrails, not coddled and told everything he’s doing is right. I’ve checked. He was bad enough before enhancement – but the additional rage from the steroids packing on muscle are making him worse. And we’re supposed to encourage him?”

“Besides,” Brody continued before Bork could react. “He’s a fucking virus. If we actually put him on this team – he’ll kill us from the inside out. I don’t think there’s a single one of us that can stand him.”

“There’s a bigger picture, Lance Corporal,” Bork started. “We need aggression to fight the Sa’arm. Nurturing it...”

“With all due respect, Sarge,” Brody interrupted. “That’s bullshit and I think you know it.”

Brody shook his head. “I owe you a lot Sarge – you and the Lieutenant both. I owe you both my life a couple times over. If it hadn’t been for the two of you – well, I know there’re a couple of our missions I wouldn’t have come back from if not for you and the Lieuy. I understand that and I hope you now I respect the hell out of both of you.”

“But don’t ask me to do this again,” Brody continued, his face hard. “Not again. I won’t do it. Hell, it’s all I can do not to go back there and beat the fuck out of Gunter myself. If it was up to me he’d be airlocked – and the Confederacy would be all the better for it.”

“Brody, you’re not seeing it,” Bork said, his German accent thick. In truth, he wasn’t sure he believed his own words – but he owed the Lieutenant a chance to make this work; whatever this fucked up situation actually was. The Lieutenant had not been all that forthcoming about his plans. “Most of the rage will pass as he gets more familiar with the changes and the need for steroids tapers off. Even if it doesn’t, though, think of what his rage can be if we point him at the Sa’arm. Harnessing that aggression and directing it will make a world of difference.”

“There ain’t no harnessing and directing that sick fuck, Sarge,” Brody disagreed. “Gunter is too sick to ‘harness and direct’. He’s like a wild dog. You might share a meal or two, he might even let you pet him for a bit. Eventually, though, he’s going to do what wild dogs always do – he’s going to turn on you and he’s going to bite you. Don’t ask me to make happy with him again – because I’ll end up doing what you’re supposed to do with a wild dog – I’ll put him down.”