Thanks once more to all reviewers.
Be forewarned, this chapter is also not for the faint of heart. Not that anyone who's read this far is probably all that squeamish, but this is very different to simple shattered corpses.
Needless to say, I do not condone any of what is written in this chapter. Anyone who does what is written within should be sliced in half and be fed their own livers.
Chapter 7: It was a Tuesday
She missed the streets of her home. The bright, cramped streets that made motion almost impossible would be a welcome change from the virtually deserted, and thoroughly lifeless excuse for a street that she was currently standing on.
You wanted to go away for university, a part of her brain reminded her for the fourth time today, you wanted to see a foreign country, you'll have to get used to this. This thought did little to ease her growing homesickness, and she scolded herself for it. She would never allow herself to be depressed by something so thoroughly pitiful as homesickness, it wasn't in her nature.
To her left she noticed a woman of about forty wandering in the opposite direction to her with an A.I in tow that was carrying what looked like a wooden chair. Since the riots had finally died out and most of the surviving machines were now in the process of constructing their own city, this sight was surprising to say the least, (it was made even more surprising due to the early hour). She felt a short surge of curiosity as to why the machine still served a human, which was accompanied by a small, familiar contempt for the woman who could not it seemed, face the terrifying prospect of carrying something herself and instead had to rely on a machine.
She had never liked the idea of A.Is, not that she had anything against them personally as everyone else seemed to, but more often then not, it seemed that all the A.Is had brought the human race was an increase in unemployment and decodance. The concept of doing something for yourself and hard work for many was now just a distant memory mentioned only in furtive whispers on Halloween to scare small children. After all, why exert yourself when you can get your mechanical slave to do it for you.
Worse was the way humanity had come to treat its slaves, in the early days of robotic workers, a new lower class had emerged all over the globe overnight, and all over the globe, with very few exceptions, people had treated them worse then they would have treated a serial killer, all the while hiding behind the convenient excuse, 'they don't feel anything, so why should we care'.
The view hadn't changed after the infamous B166ER experienced feeling, and allowed his owner to experience the feeling of his head imploding. A.I it seemed, had brought out stupidity, stubbornness and cruelty, three shared traits of humanity, out into the open for all to see.
She stopped herself in mid thought as she came to a road. There weren't many cars about, but after she had almost been run over at the age of five for charging across the road without looking, she had come to accept the wisdom of the warnings that her old school teachers had drilled into her.
Even in the early hours of the morning, where there was no sign of traffic, she still partook in the ritual of road safety that was something of an obsessive-compulsive disorder for her.
Ordinarily she would not be wandering around the streets of Lincoln at 2.39AM, but today was her friend Kendra Thornton's birthday and she felt she should make an appearance. She'd been bored throughout the night, she was reluctant to drink anything and then completely unwilling after she noticed another friend vomit on the shirt of a passing man before promptly collapsing on the floor.
Furthermore she'd had to endure the deafening screeching and repetitive groaning that some deluded fools would call music, and she'd had to refrain from ramming her thumbs through the eyes of one man who she'd caught leering at her breasts. She was certain that for years to come she'd regret not smashing his face to dust.
After she had finally crossed the road, she instantly turned around a corner to avoid catching the attention of two A.O.H troops she'd saw wandering the other way. One of these was stumbling instead of walking and relying on his companion to avoid falling over. Obviously, he was drunk.
Hatred clawed its way to the surface at this sight. The 'Alliance of Humanity', as they called themselves, was basically a mutation of the previous government; they had adopted this new, unified image to reinforce the sense of national pride, (amongst other things.)
Zero-One, as the machines called it, was advancing much faster then anyone could have foreseen. In just two short weeks, it had grown from a few grey, square foundations to a huge collection of towering buildings. The evidence of machine efficiency was all around, and the corrupt bureaucrats that ruled the societies of humanity didn't wish to be outdone by their former slaves. This illusion of world peace was just one of many lies. Scapegoating of machines that were unfortunate enough not to have escaped were commonplace, crimes would be invented for unfortunate machines, and A.I would be demonised as a result of media coverage.
The worst thing to have risen from this new empire however was the A.O.H soldiers. These creatures lurked throughout the globe, (except in the handful of independent countries), they had been given police powers wherever they were, and all of them, without fail, abused them.
Many remaining machines didn't survive long enough to receive a trial. Many were shot on sight by the A.O.H troops. Their violence didn't stop with robots however. There were tales of people being dragged from the street by A.O.H troops for no apparent reason, never to be seen again. The fates of these people were almost certainly painful and fatal. It was a minor miracle if you could spend a day in the outside world and not get harassed, or witness someone else being harassed by an A.O.H minion. Usually, it wasn't too bad, but when it was however, murder, rape, torture, or all three were usually the outcome, (of course this was never proven.)
Fighting back wasn't an option. Anyone who tried was more often then not executed, along with their family, any friends that could be scrounged up, co-workers, acquaintances, well wishers, anyone that could be found. The political lords and masters didn't care. As long as their image of superiority was strong, and their easy lives uninterrupted, the little people could suffer on for all they cared.
The few government officials, who had tried to control A.O.H soldier behaviour and shape them into a respectable organisation, as well as punish the wrongdoers, typically wound up dead, and their deaths were then blamed on some other unfortunate machine.
She knew that she would be safe, just so long as she stayed out of sight. A lone female wandering around the streets at almost three in the morning was going to make a very tempting target to a passing A.O.H soldier.
She shuddered at the thought and increased her pace, hoping that the noise made by the ridiculous, heeled shoes that Kendra had forced upon her for the event weren't loud enough to attract their attention.
She knew that she should have left early, or stayed for the main group to depart and rely on safety in numbers, (the A.O.H wouldn't piss about with a large group in the dead of night where they be sure of back up if need be and couldn't clearly see anyone's face and hunt them down later on. She was certain that she'd be safe however; the patrols almost never came down this way. She scolded herself again for not applying the same sense of caution to this situation that she typically applied to crossing the road.
She thought of calling for a taxi before remembering that there was more chance of her growing wings and flying home then catching a taxi at this hour.
Shit! She thought; how could I have been so fucking stupid? No, come on calm down! Fear won't get you anywhere except into their clutches, she shuddered again, come on, we can cut through this street and carry on back towards the university. Come on, we'll make it.
She pulled herself off of the wall she'd been leaning on and ventured on, slowly, towards street corner that was now just a few meters ahead of her.
Before she could turn the corner, she felt two hands grip her shoulders tightly, barely a second after her brain had registered this, she found herself being twisted around and pinned against the brick wall.
A sharp pain flew up her spine as she hit the wall, as well as a sudden surge of panic as she noticed the two A.O.H uniforms.
"What's this?" One of them said, the one who had his hands on her, his face was unnervingly close to hers, she could smell the alcohol in his breath.
"A random whore, out for a strole?" This came from the second one, this one female. The look in her eyes was one of a predator tormenting the prey before the kill.
She began to flail her limbs, she aimed a kick as close to the man's groin as she could, which wasn't enough, the kick grazed harmlessly off the man's padded knee. Her upper arms were also still pinned to the wall; the parts of them she could move couldn't reach her target.
"How cute," the woman again, "shall we?" A sickening grunt was the response from the man.
She was flung again, this time so that she was laying face down on the floor. She wasted no time in trying to pull herself up but she was not quick enough.
A knee was pushed into her back, pinning her to the floor once again. Hr hands were also pulled behind her back. Her elbow joints began to ache with her struggling, but she didn't care. All she cared about was getting free.
Something rough began to press against her wrists, she could feel it twisting around them, her struggling continued, but to no apparent avail.
Abandoning dignity, she screamed for help. It didn't really surprise her that no one came. The dark windows she could see all remained dark, no one woke up to investigate where the sound had came from, and even if they had, it was doubtful that they could do anything.
The grasp around her hands vanished, she tried to move them but found herself unable to do so, she managed to turn around to see the two A.O.H soldiers standing over her, their faces showing sick triumph.
The man drew a length of white cotton from his pocket and forced it into her mouth in mid scream. Pulling her head up at the same time, he tightened the gag at the back of her head.
"None of that," he said, his voice disturbingly, and disgustingly gentle, "we don't want to wake the public up do we?"
She now felt the same rough feeling against her ankles, tilting her head downwards, she noticed the woman weaving the cord around them, and finally tightening it.
The two A.O.H minions stepped back to examine their work momentarily, leaving her free to squirm against her restraints and make muffled sounds against her gag. For a moment, she felt as if she would throw up, she managed to force down the bile though. Instantly regretting this after she'd done it. Choking to death now may be the preferable option.
"Come on," said the woman at last, "let's get her to the car."
The two of them grabbed either the restraints on her wrists or ankles and carried her to a nearby...
"Azami!" Adish shouted at the sleeping form of his friend, "Wake up dammit!"
Azami's eyes shot open and she lunged at the figure standing before her, as she had done before after waking from the nightmare that was becoming all too familiar an occurrence. What had happened to her was not an experience that she wanted to repeat, but it refused to leave her alone.
In the moment of chaos, before rational thought sunk in, she threw a punch that caught Adish square in the eye, sending him backwards into a seated position.
Anyone else in the Cheboksary liberation force would have looked at her with shock in his or her eyes. Wondering why a fellow soldier had just clouted them. Adish simply nodded, cradled his bruised eye and pushed himself to his feet. This was the third time he had been clouted by Azami after having to wake her up, the reason for this he still did not know. She had told him that it was the result of waking from a traumatic dream, but she refused to say any more. Adish was concerned, but was more then willing not to intrude into the dark secrets of her past, as well as take the occasional beating if need be.
"I'm sorry." Azami said through gritted teeth, she knew it wasn't Adish who had taken the branding iron to her back, or who had left her bound, naked and screaming in the middle of Lincoln high street. But in the fit of rage that came before sanity set in, that didn't matter, he was there, and he was an outlet for her frustration. She had forced out the apology to try and show herself that she was gaining control of it, that she could still think and act rationally despite the feelings of rage that threatened to consume her.
It was a minor miracle that therapists had been able to restore, at least partially, the strong determined girl that she had once been. She had been moved to a mental institution back in her homeland of Kyushu, and there was a time when she would have gladly ripped apart anyone she had seen.
Those days were over now however, and it was the A.O.H's turn to feel pain and humiliation.
"We're moving out," Adish said with a deadpan voice, before moving off to join the rest of the troops.
Guilt started to break through the fury. Adish was one of Azami's dearest friends, he was nothing like the two animals that had violated her, he never treated her with anything but kindness and patience, and she rewarded this by punching him.
She pulled herself out of the chaotic rush of emotions and forced herself to feel anger, and the urge to exact vengeance, to make sure that the A.O.H pay a thousand times over for what they'd done to her, and the countless ones like her.
To be continued.