A Foundation of Bones
All of Lee’s men currently in Augusta stood in the entry hall of the mansion, scared out of their wits. Even the cops on his payroll had been brought in. All the estate guards had already had their wills broken, either through the injuries Dominion had inflicted on them, or the horrific nightmares he had trapped them in. For hours, they experienced tortures beyond de***********ion. Dominion had ripped out their souls and tossed them into a Hell of his own creation. Breaking bones, ripping flesh, pierced organs, burning tissue, they felt it all, despite their bodies showing none of the damage. Those with physical wounds were not exempt from the assembly. They simply had to be bandaged up by the mob doctor.
Standing at the base of the stairs and facing them was Lee. He didn’t make eye contact with anyone, just stared at the floor in a daze. He looked like a corpse hanging on strings. Like them, his will had been broken, incinerated by Dominion’s bloodlust. He now understood what Eric had been talking about, about the men in the bar and why they killed themselves. There was no death worse than being killed by him. To die was escape the pain of living, but to be killed by him was to be devoured and spend eternity imprisoned. The only reason why he hadn’t killed himself already was because of his daughters, now held hostage. If he committed suicide to escape Dominion, then Cho and Hijiri would meet the fate he was so afraid of, but his compliance didn’t mean that their horrors would end. Dominion had made it clear that he would continue to rape and torture them, and there was nothing Lee could do to stop it.
For now, only those ignorant of the situation dared speak, fruitlessly asking what was going on, but receiving no answers. Then, all fell silent, as pure evil and killing intent flooded the mansion like poison gas. It was a miasma, detected not by the physical senses, but by the soul. It drained the men of their strength, of their courage, of their ability even to think. Sitting on the floor in the corner, Eric gripped his skull, digging his nails into his scalp as he suffered a terror-induced mental breakdown. Everyone could hear them, footsteps echoing in the upper corridors. He appeared at the top of the staircase. Behind him were a row of large windows, with the light of the setting sun shining on his back, leaving him in silhouette with his shadow being cast down the stairs.
Dominion, the men stared at him in terror. Even if they were somehow blind to his bloodlust, the evil in his eyes was undeniable, it was palpable. They all knew it, he wasn’t a normal person. He wasn’t even human.
“Gentlemen, welcome. I had Misato gather you all here so that I could fill you in as to the changes that are being made. My name is Dominion, and as of now, I am in control of this operation, and your lives. I’m on my way to implementing a new world order, but first I need to build the foundations. You can either lay the bricks or be the bricks. Resistance will not be tolerated, there can be no action aside from total obedience. Your friends, your family, your community, you will hand them over by my slightest whim.
For those who defy me, only agony and death await, for you and your family. But for collaborators, the rewards will be many.”
He snapped his fingers, and gasps filled the entryway as Cho and Hijiri came into view, naked and crawling on all fours. Cho was silent, her face still stained with dry semen, but Hijiri continued to cry, with the blood on her inner thighs visible to all. At his command, they got to their feet.
“Those who serve will lead comfortable lives, the safety of their families ensured.” He then inserted his middle finger into Cho’s pussy without even looking at her. She shivered in disgust, not just from the physical sensation, but from how casually he did it. It was like he was pressing the choke on a lawnmower. “You will also get your pick of slaves to exploit and abuse however you wish. I have already claimed these two as my personal property. Obey my will, and I might resist subjugating your wives and daughters in the same way.”
All the men trembled at his words, at the way he treated the two girls. They all knew Lee’s daughters. True, most of them hated Cho, but not even she deserved this fate, and they knew Hijiri to be a timid, but sweet girl. And it was no bluff, they could only imagine the monstrous acts he would perform on their loved ones if they rebelled. The choice had been made for them.
“And to make sure I have your compliance…”
He again snapped his fingers, and an eruption of darkness surged from his body like and oil well. From the darkness, grotesque spirits took form. Mangled skeletons with rotten muscles and molting flesh, they filled the air, flying like hornets and shrieking in rage and hunger. The men screamed in fear like children, many even drawing their guns and opening fire, though their bullets had no effect. The wraiths swooped down, each one tackling a different man and disappearing into his shadow.
“Those ghosts will keep an eye on you for me. There is nowhere on Earth for you to run. Tomorrow, you will all return here at 7:00 am for your new assignments. Now, you are all dismissed.” He pointed to the chef in the back. “Except you.”
The men could not get out of there fast enough. They swarmed through the front door, shoving each other out of the way and screaming in fear. Eric was the first to escape. Soon, the mansion was empty, save for Dominion, Misato, his daughters, and the chef. Dominion walked down the steps towards Misato, but he was too afraid to look around.
“You are dismissed as well.”
It took all his courage, but he worked up the words, “but I…”
A hard strike to the side of the head sent him falling to the ground.
“Dad!” the girls screamed.
Dominion glared at them, his malicious aura robbing them of the ability to breathe. “I don’t recall saying you were allowed to talk. I’ll punish you both later.” He looked back down at Misato, slowly pushing himself up off the floor. “This isn’t your home anymore.” Misato looked back at his crying daughters, and with his own face wet with tears, he got to his feet and walked out the front door. Dominion turned to the chef. “Steak dinner, now,” he barked.
Night fell, and while Dominion had enjoyed a lavish feast, the twins had been denied even a scrap of food as part of their punishment. However, their hunger was the least of their concerns. They were hanging in the basement by their wrists, shackled with the chains looping over pipes in the ceiling. They were side by side but facing in opposite directions, unable to look at each other. Their naked, unwashed bodies trembled from helplessness. They couldn’t even beg for mercy due to the ball gags secured in their mouths.
Dominion walked around them, his eyes displaying a mix of annoyance and excitement. “It seems you two still haven’t learned your place. You spoke, something which I never granted permission for. Your voices aren’t entitlements given to you by God or your parents, they are the result of my mercy, and that I’d only slightly prefer hearing your screams rather than carve out your vocal cords and eat them for a snack. You still think your bodies belong to you. I’ll have to correct this misconception.”
He held out his hand and closed it into a fist. Like a caught animal trying to escape, lengths of black hair began to slide out of his grip. The strands, multiplying and growing each second, wove themselves together into knotted coils. In seconds, a flogging whip had formed in his hand. He walked another loop around them, letting them both see it. Already swollen from endless crying, Hijiri’s face was soaked in fear-induced tears, while Cho stared at the whip with wide eyes and a muffled scream.
It was so fast, Dominion whipping Cho across the stomach without any hint or warning. She shrieked in agony, both from the strength of the impact and the damage to her skin. The hair used to make the whip, it was sharp and abrasive, like a wire saw. Her smooth belly had a red streak as if she had just been swiped with some rough sandpaper. Dominion then turned and struck Hijiri, hitting her under the arm and making her scream like her sister.
He walked behind Cho, the girl hyperventilating in terror, just waiting to feel the whip across her back. Instead, he circled to her front and delivered a downward slash onto her left breast. A scream, at a pitch not yet heard today, slipped past the ball gag from the nerves in her areola feeling like they were on fire.
Then, it was back to Hijiri, and an especially hard strike against her ass. In her pain, she writhed and swung her body from side to side like a fish pulling against the hook in its mouth, but the agony of another lash stifled her movement. He circled to her front, staring into her terror-filled eyes. A third strike, whipping both of her flat breasts. Saliva, tears, and snot were pouring off her face as he screamed. Cho got a lash across the back, just as she had expected, but that didn’t make it any less agonizing.
This continued on without any known measure of time. Again and again, he struck them, leaving few spots untouched. Blood was quick to appear, budding on the scraped skin like condensation on a cold window. For Cho, her breasts got the worst of it. Their outrageous size made them an easy target, and the fat just soaked up the abuse. Most of Hijiri’s whips were focused on her labia. Her puffy majora protected the inner sanctum, but the nerve endings were just as sensitive and drew just as many tears. As they were facing away from each other, neither twin ever saw where the other was struck. They could only hear the scream while fear forced them to ponder the area, and wonder if Dominion would hit them in the same spot. The curiosity, the anticipation, that in itself was agony
Then, when their screams finally ended, he stopped. The two of them were drenched in sweat from the ordeal. The salty gloss soaked into their wounds and made them sting with fresh fury, just enough pain to keep them conscious after all they had endured. Their hair and faces were sticky from varying bodily fluids, including the semen from when he raped them the first time. Even messier was the floor, soaked in twin puddles of urine.
“Very well, I believe you two have learned your lesson. But just to be sure, I’ll leave you here to think about it overnight.”
And just like that, he went up the basement steps, turned off the light, and abandoned them. They spent the night hanging from the ceiling, still with the gags in their mouth, but that was Dominion’s plan. Unable to speak, unable to even see each other’s faces, there was no way for them to communicate, no way to comfort each other. They could only wallow in their own misery, while painfully aware of each other’s, with no way to do anything about it.
Sunlight streamed through the basement window, shining directly into Cho’s eyes. However, due to how puffy her eyes were from crying, the presence of light didn’t mean she could actually see. She then dropped to the floor, released from her shackles, along with Hijiri. If that wasn’t enough to wake them up, the sudden splash of cold water was. They were both sprayed with a hose, washing away the filth that caked their bodies. They shielded themselves with their hands, only looking up when it finally stopped. But while they were expecting Dominion, what they saw left them screaming in terror.
It was a creature, resembling a human but without skin. The limbs were twisted and bent, many bones the wrong length. Its exposed muscles were black, almost gangrenous, and its eyes were glazed as if with cataracts.
“Time… for… break… fast…” the creature groaned.
It then disappeared, returning to Dominion. The sisters clutched each other on the floor, trembling from the cold and fear. They had seen Dominion’s undead pets before, but this was the first time up close. They didn’t want to get up, they didn’t want to face a new day of this nightmare. They wanted to stay hidden, unseen and then forgotten, but Dominion wouldn’t let them escape pain so easily. If they made him wait, he would surely torture them again like last night.
Hijiri wanted to cry, but she couldn’t produce any more tears.
‘We’ll get through this.’ Cho wanted to say it, to say anything that might boost her sister’s spirits, but the wounds on their bodies were the result of them speaking out of turn. Dominion’s pets could be watching them, he might know if she spoke, which would just bring them both more punishment. Their voices no longer belonged to them. Likewise, the gags were still in their mouths, and while their jaws were throbbing from being forced open all night, Dominion had not given permission to remove them. All Cho could do was hug her sister and pull her to her feet.
Upstairs, Dominion sat at the head of the dining table, enjoying a sumptuous feast. He could sense Cho and Hijiri moving up the basement steps. Good, the wraiths had done its job. Unfortunately, that seemed all it could do. He had been experimenting with his pets, seeing the limits of their capabilities beyond simply gathering souls. It didn’t matter whether their personalities were stripped away or not, the demons and human spirits were naturally clumsy and unstable existences.
He had given several the task of mimicking the chef as he prepared breakfast, but they were like toddlers. The only way they could perform precise actions was if he telepathically controlled their movements, but that simply wasn’t feasible. He only had so much attention he could direct, and the more effort he put into controlling his puppets, the less he could put into controlling his own body. In the coming future, it would be unwise to allocate all complex tasks to human workers and leave his pets simply with the job of hunting. He’d have to find a way to improve their autonomous capabilities.
“Ah, good morning. I do hope you got a good night’s sleep.”
At the entrance to the dining room, Cho and Hijiri stood. Their naked bodies shivered with the chill of the water on their skin and the sensation of his presence. They kept their eyes downcast, with Hijiri partially hiding behind their sister. Their bodies were covered in scabs and welts from all the whipping they had received. They didn’t respond.
“I see, you now know that the ability to speak is a luxury I have granted you. I’m glad the lesson sank in and you’ve learned the proper order of things. I believe I said good morning. I permit you to remove those gags and say “good morning, Master’.”
They removed the rubber gags locked in their mouths, wincing from the pain. “Good m-morning, M-Master,” they both murmured.
“One shouldn’t mumble when addressing their superior. Again.”
“Good morning, Master,” they said, louder this time.
“Thank you. Now, I believe we got off on the wrong foot. Your bodies and souls belong to me, they are my property to use however I see fit. On a daily basis, you will be subjected to my wrath, my lust, my curiosity, and my whims. However, that doesn’t mean your existences will be nothing but pain. Obedience and submissiveness will be rewarded with kinder treatment, pain at a level that you will come to enjoy. I suggest you develop a sense of masochism.
You’ve learned your lesson about speaking out of turn. I’d say that deserves a reward.”
He held out his hand and a glowing fog poured off his palm like he was holding a piece of dry ice. It was pure spiritual energy, supplied by the untainted human souls in his collection. The fog flowed towards Cho and Hijiri, who huddled together in fear of the unknown, but as it enveloped them, their wounds healed and their mouths and shoulders stopped aching.
“As you can see, I command not only the power of death, but the power of life. Now, I can imagine you’re both hungry. You may eat.”
The girls looked at the table, seeing only Dominion’s plate. Their eyes were drawn to the floor, where on either side of him, two dog bowls had been set out with food. The stomachs of both girls stung, first with hunger, and now with humiliation. At least it was actual breakfast food, not cold dog chow out of a can. Reluctantly, they separated, each kneeling on all fours by a bowl at Dominion’s feet. They knew how he wanted him to eat, like animals. All they could do was swallow their pride and lower their heads.
Dominion took a sip of coffee. “Ah, they’re here.”
Outside, all of Lee’s henchmen, well, technically they were now Dominion’s henchmen, were arriving at the mansion. He had expected several to try and leave town, or at least for some to be late, but it seemed the wraiths he had tagged them with did a good job in instilling obedience. With a flick of his wrist, Dominion opened the front doors and let the men in. The entered the mansion nervously, pilgrims in an unholy land. The undead hiding in their shadows poked and prodded them, guiding them towards the dining room.
Before they arrived, Cho and Hijiri raised their heads from their bowls, instinctively wanting to flee the eyes of the men while unclothed, but Dominion gave a loud tap of his foot. They knew it without being told, it was his way of telling them to remain where they were and keep eating. Along with the sound of food being chewed, there was tearful sniffling, both girls crying in humiliation. The men entered the dining room, Lee and John first, as well as the other echelons of the syndicate. The twins could feel eyes on their naked bodies. Despite being shanghaied into working for Dominion, and the terror of the wraiths clinging to them like a parasite, the men were not free of their lust, and despite the situation, their eyes licked the girls from head to toe. Even worse was the state in which they were being seen, eating out of food bowls like a couple of dogs. Once again, Dominion was showing off how he had subjugated them.
It was painful, knowing their father was watching them. They desperately hoped, they prayed that he had arrived with a way to save them. That he’d draw his gun and plant some magic bullet or holy relic between Dominion’s eyes and they’d be free from his wrath. They wanted to apologize, apologize for the shameful state he was seeing them in. How easy, for feelings of humiliation to turn into feelings of guilt. They felt like he was judging them, disappointed and disgusted with them. They wanted to tell him that they had tried to resist, that they had tried to fight back, that they were sorry. They couldn’t even raise their heads to look at him, but even if they could, their shame wouldn’t let them.
Dominion could see Lee, see the conflict within him. He looked like he was actually going to vomit in rage, but his fear was as real as it was the day before, his soul still charred by Dominion’s bloodlust and killing intent. He was utterly helpless, he knew it. It was impossible for him to do anything to save his daughters. He hated himself, even more than he hated Dominion. He hated how weak he was, unable to keep Cho and Hijiri safe.
Instead of protecting them, it was like he just gave them to the Devil to save his own skin. Did they know? He desperately wanted to tell them that he was sorry, that he wanted to rescue them, how much it hurt to be so powerless? He wanted them to look up at him, so that maybe they could see the anguish in his eyes, see that he still loved them, see that he wanted to save them. But he wasn’t sure he could bear their gazes, the gazes of his daughters enslaved due to his impotence.
“Am I to understand that you men before me form the upper caste of this organization? The managers, so to speak, under Misato?” His words shook Misato from his thoughts, as around him, his friends nodded fearfully. “Good, then I shall assign you your new tasks. Take as many lackeys as you need, you can decide numbers amongst yourselves. Now that you’ve arrived, we can get down to business.”
Dominion tapped the table, and from his fingertip, lines of red light stretched across the wood like trails of burning oil. The men stared in shock as the lines seared the table, forming a map of the city. Dominion pointed to a few of the men.
“You five, see these big buildings and warehouses down along the river? Any that this syndicate doesn’t already own, you are to acquire, as well as the surrounding properties. Seize them and clear them out. Use whatever means necessary; bribery, extortion, murder, I don’t care. Take as many men as you need.” He pointed to three more. “You are to acquire all the farmlands within a hundred miles. Again, use whatever means are necessary.” Another three. “I want earth-moving and construction equipment, logging machinery, farming tech. Anything you can find, get me.” He moved his gaze over to another group. “I want information on every single person living within a hundred miles of this mansion. Tax records, census records, voting records, get me names, ages, and addresses. I want to know who works in medicine, who works in engineering, construction, farming, any military and ex-military, catalogue all of them. Go door to door if you have to.” He then looked to Misato. “You, prepare a map of all the territory this syndicate controls, as well as a list of properties and businesses. Then get me a register of everyone working for you and all business ties.
The spirits I attached to all of you will give assistance if needed. However, they will also be watching you, so if you slack off on the job, they will punish you in my stead. I’ll handle any costs, just get the job done. Now, divide the workforce amongst yourselves and get busy. Dismissed.”
The men couldn’t get out of there fast enough, but Misato fought fruitlessly against his fear. He wanted to speak to his daughters, but the gaze Dominion was sending him said that it would be unwise to go against him. Once Misato was gone, Dominion turned to Cho and Hijiri, still with their faces in their bowls, even though they had stopped eating.
“You two are confined to your rooms until further notice.” He then tagged them with two wraiths, tasked with making sure they didn’t come into contact with anyone and that they couldn’t kill themselves.
Fear drove Misato’s men, the breath of the wraiths on the backs of their necks hurrying every movement they made. On the river, old mill buildings had been repurposed into warehouses and office space, the largest being a yacht-building company. They’d craft them and sail them down the river towards the buyers and dealers on the coast. Work was as usual, even in winter. They had orders to fill in the spring. But over the sound of wood and fiberglass being cut and bolted together, there was the unmistakable banging of the front door being ripped open in a hurry.
A man named Harrison, Misato’s second in command, stormed onto the factory floor with two other manager-level members of the syndicate, and a dozen lower-level workers. He was a gruff-looking guy, the kind who always gave off the impression of being angry, while his black suit was always kept in perfect condition. All of his men were armed and openly carrying. Harrison knew exactly where to go, and everyone who saw him ducked out of sight and ran. They made their way to the main office, strolling right past the secretary who instinctively stayed out of their way. Harrison forced open to the office of the man and charge, the one guy in the building who didn’t fear him, or, at least, didn’t fear him as much as the others.
“Harvey, clear out of here. We’re seizing this building,” said Harrison.
“Hey, I already paid you protection money for this month!” he barked as he got to his feet.
“This isn’t about protection money. We’re under new orders. This building belongs to us, and you can either walk out of here or have your corpse dumped into the river.”
“Like hell I’ll let you kick me out of here! I’ve put up with your threats and extortion for years, but you’ll have to pry my business from my cold, dead hands!”
Harrison pointed his gun straight at Harvey. “Damn it, listen to me! Things have changed! Trust me, you have a lot more to be afraid of than just dying.”
Harvey looked at him, seeing something he thought the hardened killer was incapable of feeling: fear. He looked genuinely terrified, like he was being timed on how fast he could deal with Harvey. This was a man who made a living by breaking kneecaps, executing loose ends, and burning everything behind him, but he was spooked, and it sure as hell wasn’t Misato that was causing this sudden change. Harvey stood his ground, staring down the sights of the pistol aimed at his forehead. He had sunk everything he had into this business, worked his whole life to get where he was, and even if he were somehow willing to ignore all the sacrifices he had made, abandoning this building would be tantamount of suicide. Bankruptcy, lawsuits, a dark spiral ending with him dying in the gutter. At least this was quick and painless.
“I’m sorry,” Harrison muttered, something he hadn’t said since he was a child. He then pulled the trigger, splattering Harvey’s brains across the back wall. He then looked back at his subordinates. “Clear out this building, kill anyone who gets in your way. Then we’ll move on to the next.”
Down at City Hall, a similar scene was happening. Larry Mercer, originally one of Misato’s money launderers, had now been assigned the job of collecting public records on everyone in the city. He was used to working behind a desk in a climate-controlled office, safely guarded against any enemies of the syndicate, but now he was in the field and had two guns pointed at him. He and more than half a dozen men had simply walked into City Hall, forced their way to the records department, and were now stealing whatever they could get their hands on.
The mayor would never go against Misato, and the security guards were supposed to know that, but it seemed that they couldn’t just ignore what was going on.
“Put the box down and raise your hands!” the female guard barked. Around them, people were fleeing the building, not wanting to be caught up in what was about to happen.
“I can’t do that!” Larry shouted back, drenched in a cold sweat.
“Do you idiots have any idea who we work for? This won’t end well for you,” another syndicate member said.
“Your boss isn’t getting his hands these!” the other guard said.
He reached out to yank the box of files out of Larry’s hands, and in the corner of his eye, Larry saw his shadow suddenly darken.
“No, don’t!” he screamed.
It happened before the guard could even process the words. There was a spurt of blood as his severed hand fell to the ground. It had happened so fast that he didn’t even see what cut it, he didn’t even feel it happen. He just stared in disbelief at the bloody stump, then breathed in and released a terrified shriek. As frightened as her partner, the female guard accidentally pulled the trigger of her gun, grazing Larry’s ear. That seemed like enough provocation, for in that moment, an arm made of gnarled bone and rotting flesh shot of Larry’s shadow. Stretching like rubber, it punched through the woman’s chest and ripped out her heart.
Larry’s friends all ran screaming back to their cars, while Larry, now splattered with blood and deaf in one ear, fainted.
While this was going on, Dominion was busy down in the basement of the mansion. Atop a large work table, one of his demons lay. Its torso and limbs had all been cut open, and Dominion was now working on its skull. It twitched and gurgled with every slice of his silver knife, the only thing that could effectively cut its flesh. The purpose of this was to study the physiology of the demons and undead, once he gave them form. Had had enslaved them and had mastered the use of their powers, but it was apparent that he still lacked an understanding as to their nature.
With a bit of elbow grease, he managed to crack off the top of its skull, thus revealing its brain. He ripped it out and examined it in the light, with the demon continuing to twitch and gargle. As an undead, it was next to impossible to kill. It could only weaken, becoming a fainter version of its existence. Its current body was like ice, its ethereal form was water, and it could be damaged infinitely down to the form of vapor, but it could never be destroyed and it would always reform.
As he examined the brain, Dominion grimaced in disappointment. It wasn’t so much folded gray matter as… a tangled mess of fluid-filled tubes. Rather than chemical and bioelectrical changes between synapses, its thoughts seemed to exist through the flowing of this fluid from different areas of the brain. If a human brain was a supercomputer, then a demon brain was like a mechanical calculator. By design, it was primitive and malformed, same with all the other parts of its body. Its organs didn’t show any signs of functionality, they just looked like giant tumors dangling in its chest cavity. Its circulatory system was a mess and its muscle fibers looked like they were made of pure cancerous tissue. Dominion had even managed to get his hands on a microscope and examine a tissue sample, but there weren’t any discernable cells. Its body was just made out of some kind of unknown black matter.
For such an exquisite predator, it had the constitution of a Chernobyl crack baby.
Yet it wasn’t beyond understanding. These creatures were basically pure sentience, their physical forms just a manifestation of their power, allowing them to interact with the material world, more of an identity rather than an actual anatomical asset. Their twisted and malformed bodies were the remains of their human origins, different physical elements being slammed together into a big mess. It was like they were made purely of the useless junk DNA in humans, combined with things that naturally scared people, and then further twisted with the darkness of death.
Unfortunately, that explanation didn’t help him. They were excellent power generators, and they were a great means of collecting souls, but he needed them to be more reliable pawns, autonomous soldiers that could perform complex tasks. It was possible for him to erase the personalities of spirits, thus making them a blank slate to cultivate into a loyal subject, but their abilities drastically lowered. Maybe if he used demons with intact personalities? No, because even if he enslaved them, he couldn’t erase their resentment without throwing everything else out. If he gave them an inch, they’d take a mile. He needed a way to stabilize them, to give them intellect and creativity, but with total obedience. Right now, it was like he was running the Iditarod with rabid dogs and dogs that couldn’t even remember how to walk.
He then looked up, hearing Misato come down the stairs. Upon entering, he stopped, staring in horror at the vivisected monstrosity on the table.
“I have the information you requested.” He spoke without his eyes leaving the beast. Were it not for the demon, he probably would have spoken with a begrudging tone rather than a fearful one.
Dominion snatched a map out of his hands and raised it up to the light to examine it. It showed the lower half of the state, with the shaded areas being Misato’s territory. Something up north caught his eye, a little sovereign island in the syndicate sea.
“What’s this open spot up here, a city-state? I haven’t seen it on any other maps.”
“It is a neo-nazi colony. As you can imagine, they refuse to take orders from a Jap,” he muttered. Just talking to the man who raped his daughters in anything other than swears and curses made him sick.
Hearing his words, Dominion cracked a grin. “Really? Nazis? This is going to be a fun afternoon.”
“Reich”, it was a town even smaller than Senner. Actually, it wasn’t a town, so much as a compound. It was originally the site of a military base built during the Cold War and later abandoned. After the apocalypse, a band of skinheads moved in and turned it into an Aryan sect. All of the underground bunkers and concrete buildings were repurposed and used to train the future soldiers of their WASP utopia. Stomping out these cretins was on the to-do list of the US government, but they had stolen lots of heavy artillery, machineguns, and antiaircraft weaponry during the chaotic decades, making them the best-armed city-state in New England.
To Dominion, the sight of the nazi flags was an eyesore, along with the Confederate flags below them, especially considering that Maine was a northern state. But still, he was in a good mood. Taunting idiots was one of his favorite hobbies. He approached the front gate of the compound, sided by two watchtowers with armed guards. The original wire fencing from the old military base had been weathered by time and eventually ripped away for a new encircling barrier. It was replaced with high fencing that was topped with barbed wire and reinforced with everything from wood sheeting to junked cars, making it impossible to see through and large enough for patrols to walk atop. It was plastered with swastikas, threats, and German phrases.
“Stop! Hold it right there!” one of the guards shouted with an assault rifle aimed at him. He was dressed in paramilitary garb, a design mixing WWII German uniforms and modern American uniforms, with a bold swastika armband.
Ok, time to fire up those acting skills.
“I’m here to join up with you!” said Dominion with his hands raised.
“What’s your name?” the other guard asked.
Dominion picked one from one of the souls he had collected. “Brian Donnelly.”
The first one climbed down from his tower and approached, gauging Dominion’s skin tone to see if he qualified. “And why would you want to join us?”
“I shot the nigger that banged my sister and the best my kike lawyer could do was get me out on bail. I’ll do time for killing a monkey in a zoo, but not for killing one in the street.” He considered making up something about Hispanics as well, but that would probably be overplaying it.
The guard lowered his rifle to shake Dominion’s hand. “I’m proud to meet a fellow hero of the white race.” He looked up to the guard in the other watchtower. “Open the gate, I’ll show him to the mayor.”
The gate was opened and the guard led him inside. Dominion knew that this was a military base, but he was rather surprised by the number of houses he saw. These people were making the most of the room they had, so any open space not used for farming was used to build homes. For all intents and purposes, it didn’t appear that different from a standard city-state. They did everything they could to reach self-sufficiency, even using wind turbines and solar panels for power. He had to give them credit for the rooftop vegetable gardens, very space conscious. The remains of the old military base were clear as day, huge concrete bunkers and buildings, entrances to subterranean chambers. Built to withstand an atomic blast, it had withstood the effects of time quite well.
The citizens were as he would expect, white as a snowbank. The darkest ethnicity he saw was Italian, and from the looks of it, north Italian only. These days, especially in areas like this, it was common for people to openly carry, but here, everyone had an assault rifle slung over their shoulder, even women with infants. There was a clear distinction between those who were born and raised in Reich and those who joined later in life. The natives were prim and proper, dressed nicely with combed hair, like a commercial in 1950’s suburbia. The new recruits had more of a fringe punk look, with lots of tattoos and piercings, along with shaved heads, even the women. To Dominion, it was a bad joke.
The guard leading him was going on and on about Reich’s history and its future, preaching about the supremacy of white protestants and then demonizing everyone else. Luckily, he was so caught up in his own fervor that Dominion didn’t need to respond to anything.
He, at last, arrived at a large house in the center of the base, right next to the Town Hall. The guard led him up to the porch and knocked on the front door. A pretty blonde woman, late thirties, answered the door, immediately stirring Dominion’s collector instincts. Lovely face, nice rack, great figure, and he could see two young kids reading inside. A nazi milf would make a fine addition to his slave harem.
“Mary, we have a new member of our town. Joe will definitely want to meet him,” said the guard.
“I’ll go get him. Sir, please take a seat, my husband will be right out.” She beckoned to a porch swing by the door and Dominion sat down, glad to be rid of the guard now returning to the station.
Moments later, a man stepped out, and it took everything Dominion had not to laugh. He was dressed in a black SS officer’s uniform, from hat to boots, every prop and detail added. He even had the matching trench coat hanging off his shoulders and the saber at his hip. The outfit was surely a reproduction, but it looked no different from the real deal. He was a good-looking man, fit, but annoyingly clean-cut, suggesting intense narcissism. He was a rich frat boy kind of sociopath, contrary to Dominion, who was an ambitious, predatory sociopath.
“Welcome to Reich!” Joe said as he shook Dominion’s hand. He had a German accent, probably learned before English.
“Glad to be here.”
“Another strong ally in our fight for the survival of the white race. Tell me, what do you think of our town?”
“It’s great. I can really see the supremacy of everyone here.”
“You’re right about that. Not one drop of inferior blood. Come on, let me give you a tour.” Dominion followed Joe around town, and everyone they passed gave the mayor a nazi salute. Unfortunately, Dominion had traded in the yammering guard for a yammering officer. Between pointing out areas of the town and introducing fellow nazis, he was spouting his ideals without bothering to see if Dominion was listening. “Beautiful, isn’t it? Decades of blood, sweat, and tears to produce this paradise, free of the violence and corruption you’ll see in those nigger-loving government cities. We’re small now, but Reich will be the seed from which the tree of Yggdrasil will grow anew, and our superior white race will take its rightful place as the rulers of this world.”
After circling the town, they returned to the center, in front of Joe’s house.
“You came just in time, the feds have been putting the squeeze on us, and we need all the manpower we can get. But we’re going to fight back. This country is just waiting to be taken and turned into a new Fatherland. We’re going to make America great again! I’ve been planning it for years, how we can take control and resume the Führer’s Final Solution. I’ve spent my life studying our glorious history, memorizing every detail of the Holocaust so that we can succeed where our predecessors failed.
A muscular man like you will be able to do great things here, and we need virile soldiers to ensure that our next generation is born to continue our work. Why don’t you head down to the barracks? They’ll get you a nice bed and a hot meal while we find a more permanent place to put you.”
“I’m going to have to refuse your offer. On a related subject, I must confess to you…” Having been lost in his own speech, Joe turned back to Dominion, who had been fairly quiet since he arrived. “I’m giving very serious thought to eating your wife.”
Joe was silenced, Dominion giving him a solid jab straight to the Adam’s Apple. Robbed of his breath, he fell to his knees, clutching his throat and looking like a dying fish.
“That seemed like the only way to shut you up. Honestly, do you usually blather on like that? I don’t know how your wife stands it. Though, once I have her bent over with her legs spread, I’m sure your incessant bragging will be the last thing on her mind.”
While nearly crippled by agony, rage flashed through Joe’s eyes. With one hand still trying to ease the pain in his throat, he drew his sidearm, an authentic Luger pistol, and emptied the entire clip at Dominion. The bullets bounced off him without doing any damage, but the entire town heard the shots. Everyone rushed towards the scene, and seeing Dominion standing over their wounded mayor, they opened fire, though their attempts were equally fruitless. As the bullets ricocheted off his chest and head, Dominion leaned down towards Joe.
“You people are total morons. All you do is blame all your problems on some other group of people, always looking for some new boogeyman to hang your insecurities on. Race, ethnicity, religion, you think it actually matters? It doesn’t, when death arrives. In the face of death, all are equal, and everything you quibble about is stripped away. I believe in equality, for I know that the people on Earth, no matter their creed, all are equally inferior to me.”
He then held out his hands and a ripple of power expanded from him like a shockwave. It washed over everyone without leaving the smallest mark, then, their stomachs lurched, as everyone outside began to rise into the air. Men, women, children, they floated like bubbles, screaming in terror. Joe and those who had been inside buildings watched in horror as their friends and local townspeople were raised into the sky as if by the Rapture. It was immediately apparent, everyone floating was about to die. They had passed the height survivability, so even if there was a way to stop this phenomenon, they would simply fall to their deaths.
“Now, let me show you all that pure blood you were bragging about.”
With a flick of his wrist, all the screams were ended, for in a single moment, everyone exploded like a field of paint balloons, hurling vaporized viscera in all directions. The town was cast in a crimson aura, as the mist of gore floating over Reich acted like tinted glass for the sun’s rays. Those who had survived stared at that bloody sky in horror, their minds unable to form a single coherent thought. This had come out of nowhere, no sign or warning, just a biblical disaster happening in the blink of an eye. There was no way to process it.
“The nazis were a bunch of narrow-minded fools, ignorant to the true order of things.” He then crouched down and straightened Joe’s tie. “But I’d be lying if I said they didn’t know how to make a damn good-looking suit. Now, here’s a question. Should I kill you here and rape your wife atop your corpse, or force you to watch as I make her my property and kill you after? Hmmm, I suppose I can just make your kids watch.” Claws extended from Dominion’s fingers and he pulled back his hand, but before he could deliver a killing blow, something stopped him, an idea. “Now that I think about it, killing you really would be a waste of a good suit.”
A malicious grin crossed his face and he turned his hand over, his palm to a sky. A sphere of blackness, that’s all it could be described as, floating above his hand. It was the souls of everyone he had so far killed in Reich, already tainted into the wraiths and with their personalities bleached. Now, they were just generators of unholy power. He also mixed in around a dozen demons for extra strength. Dominion took the sphere and slammed it into Joe’s face, injecting all those evil souls into his body.
Joe writhed and screamed, his face melting as pure malice was forced into him like a dose of steroids. At the same time, Dominion seized Joe’s soul, but rather than remove it, he altered it. He erased all memories and feelings, leaving only coordination, processing abilities, improvisation and creativity, language, and any useful knowledge. Everything else was stamped over, branding his soul with the order of ‘total obedience to Dominion’.
Biology, that’s what was missing, that’s what he needed to improve the autonomy of his pets. True, when he granted them corporeal form, their hunting and combat abilities were unsurpassable, but their bodies were too malformed and grotesque for anything else, and their defective brains made them unfit soldiers and disloyal. It was simply their existence. But if he gave them an actual physical body, flesh and blood, that biological component would act as a skeleton for all actions. A physical brain of real neurons would be able to support a much higher level of thoughts than the grotesque imitation they had, and it would be easier to shape and control to fit his needs. A physical body, but infused with any number of pure souls, wraiths, and demons, shaped like clay to do his bidding and fulfill any task. The potential was limitless.
At last, the process was complete and Dominion pulled his hand away, staring at his creation, kneeling like a puppet with its strings cut. Joe no longer existed. “From this day forth, your name is… Blight. What is your reason for existing?”
“To serve and obey Lord Dominion.” The voice was heard, but it was different from the body’s original voice. It was wispy and inhuman, sounding not like an actual voice, but artificial notes mimicking words.
“On your feet.” Blight stood up, assuming a military posture. Dominion took one look at his new face and smiled, then ripped the swastika armband off his sleeve and the insignia on his hat. “You won’t be needing those anymore. Your orders are to hunt down everyone remaining in this settlement. Execute them and steal their souls. There are to be no survivors, no one escapes. Am I understood?”
“I will fulfill your command, my Master.”
Finally, real loyalty and competence. Blight then turned around and rocketed off in search of survivors. Already, he was running faster than any human could possibly match, and his body was enshrouded with darkness, a sign of his unholy powers ready for use.
Dominion turned around and faced Joe’s former home, where his former wife and children were huddling in terror.
Dragged into her bedroom, Mary, screaming, was thrown onto the mattress, with Dominion immediately upon her. He tore off her clothes like a child unwrapping a Christmas present, using claws at the tips of his fingers. She tried fighting him off, but even if he were a normal person, she’d have failed. Her movements were clumsy and erratic, her thought process was a total mess. Not seconds ago, Dominion had broken into her home and executed her son and daughter in front of her. Her face, Swedish white but with a farmer’s tan, was peppered with their splattered blood. Watching them die, watching the light leave their eyes, something inside her broke. Adrenaline, grief, terror, it left her barely able to think. Her flaccid attempts to push Dominion away might as well have been muscle spasms, for her mind was too busy trying to process the death of her children.
With one hand around her throat, he kept her pinned, and with the other hand, he removed her shredded dress, exposing her curvaceous figure and bodacious tits. She would have made a killing had she had gone into porn. He retracted his claws and went to work groping and abusing her breasts. He grabbed them with a strangling grip, swelling the veins underneath her vanilla skin, and smacked them to discipline her. He loved the way they bounced and rolled, begging him for abuse.
He thrust his fingers into her slit, making her cry out from the violation, but with his other hand locked tightly around her throat, she couldn’t reach a volume to truly describe her anguish. He violently fingered her, forcing her body to prepare itself for the main event. It was like a game to see how much pain he could inflict with just his fingers; how rough he could be. His digits penetrated her over again, becoming slick with her building lubrication. Repeatedly, he removed his fingers and smacked her labia, drawing a fresh scream and making her curl up to try and defend herself. He’d just force her legs apart and start over. Each strike wetter than the last, with her scream never-ending.
He leaned down and licked the tears of her face, tears of pain, fear, humiliation, and loss. “I bet your husband never took you like this.” In reply, she spat at him and shrieked at the top of her lungs, far too anguished to actually shape words. The spittle never reached him, but he responded with a harsh smack across the face. “You’re going to hate this, you’re going to curse me and wish for my death, along with your own. But in time, I will train you to love it. I will train you to beg for pain, for abuse. You’ll dream of violation, to be drenched in your master’s cum. Your body will ache for it, crave it like a drug. Then I’ll have a whole new way to torment you.”
He then whipped out his cock and forced it inside her. She screamed and gnashed against him as she was penetrated, but Dominion simply ignored her and began his thrusts. The king-sized bed rocked and creaked as he brutalized her, hitting all the key spots with cruel strength. She screwed her eyes shut and replaced her cries of agony with a furious growl.
To be raped by her children’s killer, it was too much to bear. She tried to ignore the sensations she was feeling, quarantine this physical abomination from her mind. Wearing a poker face, blocking it all out, that was the only way she could try to survive. Dominion refused to give her that, easing and tightening his grip on her throat sporadically. He’d strangle her so tightly that she felt like her windpipe would cave in, then, before she could pass out, he’d let go and air would rush through her windpipe, forcing her awake and trapping her within the hell of lucidity. While she caught her breath, he’d go to work on her breasts, either with his hands or his tongue. He’d bite down on her supple flesh, not hard enough to draw blood, as per his routine, but enough to heighten the taste of her skin and make her scream. Then, once she was fully awake, he’d resume strangling her.
She didn’t know how long he raped her, minutes felt like hours. His thrusts were too fast to use as a measure of time, and each impact to her cervix would scramble her thoughts. Eventually, he rolled her onto her side and made her lift her leg for a better angle. Rather than strangling her, he just kept her wrists pinned, but even if he didn’t, she was too browbeaten to resist.
“Just as I thought, your pussy can take the abuse. I have two younger slaves back home, and they just cry as I rape them. They have no pain tolerance. Those kids definitely made things easier.”
“Fuck you!” she finally screamed, wailing with her tears soaking the sheets.
“Oh, that’s not very dignified. Give me a nice “sieg heil”. I bet you say that crap every day.” She silently refused, searching for a bastion within her mind where she could hide from the horror. “Ah, so you can still resist me to that level. Well, I know one place that will break your will.”
He then rolled her all the way over onto her stomach, and before she could react, drove deep into her anus in a single shove. Her resulting scream could have shattered glass, the pain and humiliation demolishing every mental barrier she had formed. She reached back and spread her ass cheeks, trying to lessen the pain. Dominion went to work, sodomizing her at his maximum speed and depth. She screamed endlessly, feeling as though his cock were instead a dagger slicing through her flesh. He was throwing her full weight against her, raping her ass with such brutality that she was even starting to bleed.
He had his fingers wrapped around her goldenrod hair, either pulling her head back so that she could scream at full volume, or pushing her face into the mattress to soak it with her tears. After several minutes, he grabbed her hips and pulled her off the bed. He dropped her onto the floor, her face to the floor but her ass in the air. His throat quivered and he spat into her gaping asshole, then resumed raping her. This time, his weight was dropping straight downwards, every impact like a pole driver.
“You like that, don’t you? You love being taken like a filthy whore,” he said as she sobbed in agony. “Say “rape my ass harder, mein führer”. I want to hear you say it.” She didn’t respond, and without pausing the sodomy, he put his foot on her head, grinding her face harder against the floor. “Say it.” Again, she refused, or perhaps she simply didn’t hear him. Her anguish was so intense that it was hard for her to pay attention to what he said. Annoyed, Dominion held out his hand and the tip of his index finger began to glow red, his flesh resembling the cigarette lighter from an old car. He reached down and jammed his finger into the underside of her right breast, like he was putting out a cigar. “Say it!” he barked as she shrieked in agony.
“R-rape my ass-s harder, m-mein führer!”
“I’m sure your Aryan ancestors would applaud your loyalty.”
He resumed fucking her, but not for much longer. One minute and a hundred rapid thrusts later, Dominion stopped and shuddered, with Mary whimpering as she felt him pump her anus full of semen. He pulled out of her, and even with her ass raised in the air, a white river poured out of her and splattered on the floor. She was barely conscious, her strength drained by physical and emotional horror. She then heard something that awoke her, loud footsteps coming up the stairs. She’d recognize that sound anywhere, the thumping of her husband’s boots! He had arrived to save her!
“You’re late, Blight. You took longer than I expected,” Dominion said as the figure approached the bedroom.
“Please forgive me, my Master. I killed all of the survivors in three minutes and eight seconds. I simply didn’t want to interrupt your entertainment. If that was a mistake, I humbly apologize for my foolishness and await punishment.”
Dominion’s creation stood in the doorway, and seeing what her husband had become, Mary screamed in terror. Joe’s, or rather, Blight’s face was completely gone. Not just the skin, but the muscles, tendons, and most of the bone structure. It was like his face had been pressed to a belt grinder until the entire front portion of his skull was erased. The inside of his brain, eye sockets, sinuses, and mouth was fully exposed, his tongue just a stump. His cheeks were gone, along with his chin, revealing only his back teeth and the hinges of his jaw. Just looking at him, one would think he was about to start hemorrhaging blood, saliva, and brain fluid, but despite looking like a fresh cut, there was absolutely no mess. His white collar was completely unblemished, his severed veins not shedding a single drop of gore. He had no eyes, just the sockets, but he appeared to see some other way. The only issue was that his hat was a bit lopsided.
“Ah, then well done. And the souls?”
Blight got down on one knee, his head bowed and one of his hands raised. A sphere of white energy appeared above his palm, the pure souls of all of the survivors of Reich. “For you, oh Lord.”
Dominion took the sphere and absorbed it into his body. “You’ve met and surpassed my expectations. Good. Grab my slave, we’re returning home. We need to prepare for the next stage.”
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