This is an author's note. This is an extremely adult/ violent chapter. It does little to progress the story except tell you what a sick scumbag Mal is. Really, I don't want to offend anyone, so please, please, if you are in anyway concerned about my warning, but want to know what happens, just PM me, I'll tell you in the best fuzziest sesame street words I know. And we'll all live in a happy sunshiny world.
Seriously. Dark stuff. And multiple(excessive?) uses of the F word here.
I just wanted to give everyone a heads up.
Mal sat on his porch overlooking his own personal oasis, he was quite pleased with himself. He had come a long way from being some half assed raider trash. He was high society now, an everlasting supply of water at his disposal, enough caps to roll around in, and a woman he could claim as his own. His pa would have been proud if the piece of shit had still been around to see what his 'nancy boy' son had accomplished. He sneered at the memory, too impotent to keep a women around for long he had taken it out on his son. He was just jealous, jealous of his own fifteen year old son.
He had got what he deserved in the end, an axe to the skull from a hunting accident. He chuckled out loud, his father was so much of a fuckin' drunk he didn't even have to convince anyone of the lie. They just marked it up as a stupid old fool getting himself killed. He found he had a taste for it after that. Watching the light fade from his father's eyes as it dawned on the old man that he had killed him, the power he felt as he played god in the wastes. It wasn't anything like when he killed mole rats, they were just dumb beasts born for the slaughter. To kill a man, that gave him real power.
Some of the treeminders were stooped around the brook that ran through the oasis, filling bottles as quickly as they could. He could tell their heart wasn't in it, but it didn't need to be. He had conquered them, they were his to use now. The women of the group had been given to his men to keep them satisfied when the days stretched out between hunting trips. He heard their screams in the woods, the bitches loved it, probably were fuckin' waiting for some real men to come around and show them how to do it right. That's when he decided that he would keep Anya for himself. She was the special one, the special girl. Let the men have the waste trash treeminders. He had only had to teach the men once what would happened when they touched Anya.
That man was still staked out front, his gut slashed open and most of his blood drained into a pool on the ground beneath him. He had finally stopped stinking a day or so ago. The sun would roast him until there was nothing left but bones. He smiled as he watched Anya standing near the larger pool of water, she stared blankly into the trees, looking at nothing and no one. Someone must still be slipping her the fuckin' Jet. He glowered, he told them she was to be cut off, she was still getting a secret stash from someone, she was always vacant like that. She hadn't said a word to him in four days. He'd make her fuckin' talk to him if that's what she needed.
He had bought her a nice blue dress from a trader to cheer her up the other day, the whore should be grateful to him. She should be on her knees begging for a way to please him. He had gotten her proper clothes again, not like those rags she had been wearing. She had privileges that he had given to her. She wore the dress now, it shifted gently in the breeze, her shoulder and hip bones were still slightly visible beneath the thin cloth. She hadn't been eating enough, he had given her the best food they were getting, twice as much as what he used to. None of that radiated meat, only fresh stuff for her. He had bought her a fucking apple for Christ sake, that bitch was starving just to prove a point. Fuck if he knew what kind though. Women were all fuckin' cracked in the head. Probably stemmed from her not having been with a real man for so long. He had come to save her from herself, he just wanted to make her see how good he was, how good she had it because of him.
All she ever did was stand there, staring at the fucking trees. But she was his now, and she'd do exactly what he fuckin told her to from now on. He'd let her have free reign for too long. That was going to end now. He felt his grip tightening on his knees while he seethed about the ungrateful bitch, he ground his teeth as he glared at Anya standing there oblivious to everything. More importantly oblivious to him. He'd fucking show her.
She lay quietly where he had directed her to, she was usually pretty compliant, he couldn't complain about that too much. He hiccoughed into his hand, he had run through some of the whisky stores this afternoon to console himself. After everything he did for everyone he didn't feel like he go the respect he deserved. He was going to start with teaching Anya.
He slid his hand across her stomach, he could feel her breathing slowly, no change as his hands slipped lower. She should be fuckin' excited that he wanted to be with her, she was a pile of shitty bones, she should at least have the decency to be excited for him. He pulled the dress up over her head and, seeming to know what was expected of her, she lifted her arms over her head. It was always the same. She was like some kind of dead fuckin fish. He unzipped his pants and lay on top of her, it was going to be different tonight. She'd see it his way. He'd make fuckin' sure.
"Baby. I want you to touch me." He said gruffly kissing at her neck, she lolled her head to the side to accommodate him but made no attempt to move her arms. He grabbed her hand roughly pulling it down between them. "Touch it." He commanded, he wasn't going to fuck around with this little girl. She was going to do what he wanted and she was going to fuckin enjoy it. Her hand did finally grasp him lightly. "Yessss." He hissed through his teeth. "Tell me you like it." If she had heard him she didn't say anything. He pushed himself up to stare directly into her vacant eyes, forcing her to see him as a man. "Tell me. You like it." He said a deadly tone. She finally did see him, she looked right up into his eyes, her gray eyes sparkled with lucidity for just one moment. And then she started to laugh. It was a low throaty laugh, and she just continued, picking up speed as she went. He growled before raising his fist and connecting with her face solidly. He hit her once more just to prove who was in charge. Bruises were part of learning.
The fucking bitch continued to laugh! Even as blood spurted from her nose the laughter still came in choking wheezes that shook her whole body. He lifted her shoulders and tried to slam her head against the ground so she would stop but it had little effect on her, her eyes rolled back but she continued the merciless laughter blood dripping down into her open mouth.
"Have it your way you fucking bitch!" He shouted into her face with spittle flying from his lips, he flipped her onto her stomach and twisted her arm up between her shoulder blades, he twisted it sharper as he worked into her, a grin starting to form as the laughter stopped. It turned to gasping sobs and finally, with a thin snap he felt in his hand, a piercing scream. He chuckled softly to himself. "That's a good girl." He decided to finish before he let go of her arm, he shrill screams rose and subsided with the weight he put against her.
She moaned and gasped curling into a ball as he got off of her, now it wasn't laughter but tears that shook her body. He knew she was just a good for nothing whore, but she was his fuckin whore, and he had made her see it his way. Bruising was just part of learning.