Fascism

Chapter 1

The world of Vesperia was dying.

It was all due to one man.

Bray Wyatt.

From the time Abigail met Bray, she knew her life would never the same, even at the tender age of 10. Fostered at age 5, Abigail was silent for 5 years. She knew how to talk, but the horrific events of what she'd witnessed haunted her…stopped her from speaking a word to anyone. They called her a mute, the foster care people. The kids all made fun of her for it, almost to the point of crucifying her on a daily basis verbally and sometimes physically. One day, a small boy with dark hair and kind blue eyes came up to her, asking if he could watch television with her. Abigail didn't know what possessed her to do it, but she wound up speaking for the first time in 5 years…to Bray. He was kind, sweet and had a powerful spirit about him. They shook hands, introduced themselves and went on with watching cartoons together, while the foster people looked on in awe and disbelief. How could one simple boy have such a profound effect on a girl who hadn't spoken in 5 years?

The foster people were heavily into religion, Catholicism, and they were convinced Bray was some kind of demon sent to bring destruction to their world. It was insane, but the poor boy was punished on a daily basis. Abigail could do nothing for him except help tend to his wounds late at night, after sneaking out of bed to check on him. They'd put him in the highest room of the building, which was also the coldest at winter time and never tended to his room. The blood pouring out of him was evil and he had to be cleansed of it, they said. Abigail cried every night over Bray, wishing they could somehow escape their misery and it finally happened…when they turned 17.

Bray had snuck them out, ordering Abigail to follow his every move or they would be done for. It worked, they were free, and it was freezing outside, with nowhere to go. At least they were free. Bray had scars all across his backs from the constant whippings he'd received, but Abigail just saw them as survival. She loved him, truly, he was her only friend and the only one she trusted in the world of Vesperia. Somehow, they'd found a way to survive after that escape and Bray vowed, that night, to create a world of peace, a world where only one religion existed. His religion. DOV – Dominion of Vesperia. Slowly but surely, he began recruiting members to his religion, traveling town to town, with Abigail by his side always, preaching his word of DOV. Abigail was on his side completely…until she realized the horrors that were truly within Bray's mind as well as what the members were doing.

Women were captured and forced to have sex with one of his followers to produce children, to grow his Dominion. His religion. His world. If the women did not produce boys, they were punished, and the boys were taken away from them instantly to be raised by their father. If the women produced girls, the girls stayed with their mother until the proper age where they could be bedded to produce more for Bray's army. That was all women were used for were baby making and cooking. The men were not loyal to their women either, raping sometimes 4 a night, depending on their sexual appetite and hunger. If the woman could not produce within a 3-month span, after having sex sometimes 4 times daily, she was executed and thrown away like yesterday's garbage.

Abigail was the only woman untouched and it was at Bray's decree because she was his. She belonged to him. They hadn't had sex, but she knew it was inevitable when the time would come where Bray would force her into it. He was no longer the sweet boy who made her talk again after 5 years at age 10. He was a monster, hell-bent on warping the world to his satisfaction, to what he wanted, and Abigail's heart crumbled along with the world of Vesperia. If one did not follow the DOV, they were executed on the spot. It was kill or be killed with Bray at the charge, leading his followers down the path of destruction.

And Abigail saw no hope for escape from this horrendous life she now lived.

Bray, if anyone had bothered to ask, would have been very thorough in his explanation of why things were being done this way. No great revolution, be it a country, or a religion, occurred without casualties. It was a sad fact of life. In order to make things better, things always had to get worse first. The women being used… well, the ones who birthed sons, would one day be exonerated and praised in new history books, tracts, and materials. They would be known as brave pioneers, volunteers for a righteous crusade. As with any revolution, some of the more… horrible details would be glossed over. One just couldn't make an omelet without breaking several eggs. He cared for Abigail; out of all these women, she was precious, special, and she was meant for more than just being a vessel for more followers.

When they first began this crusade 10 years ago, Abigail never imagined Bray would turn into the monster he was today. The babies produced by the women had grown incredibly fast, too fast. The babies were also born too fast, not needing to wait for the full 9 months before being birthed. Abigail had done some snooping around and discovered Bray had a sorcerer by the name of Malcolm. He had produced a serum that was injected into the mothers, once they were with child. There was no way of knowing if the baby would be a boy or girl, which was why the women were punished severely if the baby came out a girl. It was a waste of the precious serum that allowed Bray to grow his army at an alarming rate.

Within a year's time, they were full-grown men and women. Throughout the course of the year, the father's job was to teach their son everything about the world, about DOV and instill Bray's beliefs in them wholeheartedly. The women taught the girls how to cook, clean and told them about sex, because on their first birthday, technically, they would be chosen to breed and produce. Once full-grown, the men – boys – carried on the tradition of breeding with women to create their own offspring, mostly with the women born the same time as them from different father's. Before Abigail knew it, Bray had over 200 followers within a one-year span. They now lived in a castle, built by the followers, with plenty of room for everyone. Whenever they began running out of room, the women who could no longer breed were executed, either hung or shot in the head. It was sickening…so much death and bloodshed.

When would it end?

He was working with his sorcerer on a new serum. Women, as a whole, might be worthless, but individually, some of them eventually would show merit. Bray wanted them ALL to be worth something and, in order for that to happen, they needed to birth boys. He needed a ratio. For every 20 boys, he wanted only a single girl. Malcolm's original serum was great; it helped immensely, but women were birthing more babies than their bodies could tolerate. Doing it at accelerated rates, however, meant higher burnout. If that was going to be the case, then they were officially resources and Bray wanted to get everything he could out of them before they became expendable. Not to mention, execution was a waste of resource as well.

"Give me a list of what you need, and I'll see to it." He ordered in his deep, gravelly voice. "This is to be a top priority." Wars were won with soldiers, not women.

"My liege, these ingredients can only be found in…" Malcolm hesitated to say it, frowning because he knew Bray would not like hearing this. "The main ingredients we need are found in…the town of Wonderful." It was one of the ONLY towns Bray had not acquired for his own due to the place littered with Revolutionists against the DOV religion. It was led by one of the most dangerous men in all of Vesperia and Bray had made it a point not to venture in that area…at all. "Mythril will not be easily obtained, My Lord. I fear it is the only ingredient that will be proficient enough to produce only soldiers for your cause…" However, Mythril was in the jurisdiction of the Undertaker. "Perhaps we can find another way. Give me some time, I promise to make this my top priority."

The town of Wonderful…who was this Undertaker Malcolm spoke of? Abigail hid in the shadows and barely breathed while eavesdropping on Bray and Malcolm's conversation. If this town known as Wonderful was as he said…could that be her ticket out of here?

Eventually, Bray would deal with the Undertaker. They would have their showdown and it would be glorious indeed, legendary, but for now… discretion was the better part of valor and he wasn't a fool. He wouldn't risk his precious soldiers against the Undertaker, not just yet.

"See that you do," He ordered after a moment, eyes flashing ice. "I'll… look into alternatives." Perhaps a spy of sorts, someone who could slip in and out without being noticed, or at least without being suspicious. Frowning, Bray turned to walk out of the room.

Abigail had not stuck around and moved swiftly back up the stairs from the sorcerer's chambers to the sitting hall, seated in her pure white dress. Bray was adamant about all of her clothes being white – it showed she was pure. Personally, Abigail wanted her color back, but knew better than to defy Bray and just went along with what he wanted. The last thing she wanted to do was upset him and they'd been together for 17 years now, just not in an actual relationship. Any man who even LOOKED in her direction, Bray made sure they regretted it. It was a sin, as far as he was concerned, to admire what was his. Abigail looked up when Bray walked into the room, her midnight blues locking on icy blues and her black hair was down, brushed neatly and hanging down her back in gentle waves.

"You look distressed, Bray." One thing Abigail NEVER did was call him 'My Lord', 'my liege' or anything like that because, to her, he was simply Bray and she supposed he let it slide because of how long they knew each other. "Is everything alright?"

At the sight of his childhood friend, his love, the only thing pristine in this cold, cruel world, Bray's face lit up in a smile. All the anger, the coldness, it melted at the sight of her and his face changed into what it had been once, or perhaps could've been. "Abbie…" He sighed, walking over to sit in front of his chair, his back to her legs and he leaned his head backward, feeling her hands coming down to caress his head. "I have a problem, Abbie…"

He had several problems, but Abigail knew better than to say that aloud and simply acted as if she hadn't overheard him and Malcolm talking. He had sat down, looking stressed and her hands instinctively began rubbing his head and shoulders, trying to ease some of his tension. As sick and twisted as his ideals were for DOV, she couldn't deny she did love him, at least part of her did. He had saved her from the foster home, the abuse, because he hadn't been the only one to be scarred by those wretched people. She had too, a deep scar two inches deep across her abdomen from a whip…it was a reminder to her just how cruel the world was they lived in and what they'd had to do in order to survive.

"What is it, Bray?" She asked softly, not stopping the massage and caressing because at least he was calm for the moment. "Maybe I can help…"

"As much as I know you want too, I don't think…" Bray trailed off, staring off into space thoughtfully, his hands moving to caress the white gown she wore.

He adored Abigail in white. She was the most kind, gentle soul he had ever known, even after everything they had been through, she had remained pure of heart and spirit. White was the color he preferred her in, it represented how he saw her. One day, he would take her properly, for his own, but first… first Bray would give her a world where she could live without fear.

"Maybe…" He amended, frowning as the thoughts continued to form. Above almost everything, he cherished her the most, but she was also the only person he truly trusted.

Could he trust her with this?

Never once had Bray tried making a move on her or touched in an intimate way. Not even a butt squeeze, only soft pliant kisses, and rubbing arms and back. His hands never went lower, though Abigail could tell, now that she had matured and grown into a woman, from the child she'd been, the lust for her had increased. She could see it his eyes whenever he looked at her, touched her, smelled her. There were nights Bray would sneak into her bed and simply hold her against him, and she could feel his desire poking and prodding her. He'd kiss her neck, rub her arms and then roll her over on her back to kiss her lips, but never touched her breasts or lower extremities. It was weird, strange because, by the time he finished, she'd feel as if she was on fire and wouldn't be able to sleep the remainder of the night. Luckily, it only happened twice a week, so she was able to catch up on rest the nights he didn't come to visit her in her chambers.

"Whatever it is, you know you can talk to me about it. I don't know if I can help, but I can at least try or maybe ease your mind a little." She caressed his face before being pulled against him, another soft kiss brushing her lips. "You know I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going through your mind and what troubles you."

At the very least, it wouldn't hurt to tell her what was troubling him. Abigail knew the worst of him and the best, and she was still here, offering to hear his troubles. Taking a deep breath, Bray told her about the serum, what it could do for them, and how some of the ingredients were hard to find and one… one was going to be near impossible, due to where it was.