I remember in History class once , back in the good old days of Bon Tomps high , we had been studying the second world war . Part of the syllabus of course been arguably the darkest chapter in human history to date , although the events of the last year or so may have since trumped it , was the Holocaust .

We had sat and watched as the aged second hand and probably donated projector had cast the eerie shadowy images of the death camps onto the class room wall , the distorted sounds of the commentary playing out through the tiny tape deck on the teacher's desk .

I recall the sallow and gaunt faces that shuffled in single file off the train carts , forms hunched and emaciated as they trudged towards the waiting gates and almost certain doom , in my fiery youth I had been indignant that anybody could so willingly walk to their own death with nothing more than a teary eye and forlorn look , I wanted to shout at the images of decades long past and berate them for their lack of courage , in my ignorant and small minded blinkers of inexperience I envisioned that if I were there I would have done something , I would have rallied my fellow oppressed , sowed dissention among my comrades and pointed out '' We are so many , they are so few '' , they may been armed and stronger but we have force of numbers .

I would jump up and shout and scream in warning , marshal others to my banner like a teenaged blond haired , D cupped Spartacus '' Give me liberty or give me death '' We would storm the wire , wash over the guards and smash the gates , some would die of course but in the vigour of our assault soon the jack booted evil doers would be obliterated , those who weren't mown down would flee in terror at the knowledge we would not go quietly into the good night and the day won , and thus the uprising would start .

Reality it seemed as of late had taken to bitch slapping me like a Detroit Pimp and I was its least favourite girl

The cold harsh reality of a hopeless situation is just that , it's hopeless .

It was my turn to trudge now , to hunch over terrified and impotent as unspeakable horrors went on all around me , I walked as fast as the thick chain around my neck allowed , that and how fast the stranger I was chained too in front me walked , and how often the person behind me would falter and trip , my head would be periodically yanked back as the fastenings to the rear me were pulled taught , small startled protests in a feeble small voice .

What I could see now in the cold light of reality was that fear is as infectious as Gundown , if not more so . Looking left and right at the bedraggled forms that made up my fellow inmates , prisoners , cattle , whatever you wanted to call us , it became all too clear .

Each face told the same story , the cold and even worse hungry glares from our captors were like search lights seeking out any dissent any resistance , every soul here was locked into their own private little hell , we didn't really seem to exist to one another , I didn't want to look at the credit card sized plastic tag that hung pierced from their ears as I knew I had one just like it hanging painfully from mine , the throbbing beat of pain in my lower lobe the only soundtrack besides the whimpers and the crying , the moaning and mumbled prayers .

My eyes stung and nostrils reeled from the fumes of the disinfectant they had sprayed on each of us , the clinical tang of hospital and slaughter house mixed into one , hung in my nose like an unwelcome guest , cold shivers as the barely there paper thin hospital gowns that they had forced us to put on did nothing to keep out the unrelenting chill , all the heat seemed to have escaped this frigid place in search of more pleasant surroundings , I guess when your dead heat is not something that bothers you so much , and out comfort was a low or even non-existent priority for our guards .

Here and now all these years later I understood perfectly what had gone on in those camps , why those people had marched to their doom .Because life isn't like the movies or favourite books , the hero isn't able to quickly and keenly asses there situation with a calm steady mind and agile eye , probing for weakness as cleaver escape plan are concocted right under the noses of the enemy

When you're scared , that's all you can think about , being scared.

The mind numbs with the hell going on around you , you lock up , freeze and are fixed to the spot like a rabbit in the oncoming headlights of your own death , it isn't always ''Fight'' or ''Flight'' , there is a third option , terror

Spirit crushing terror .

All I wanted to do was survive and right now it seemed the only way to do that was do what I was told , and that I know was what was going through the minds of every other poor misfortune who was sharing my nightmare , our nightmare

So now I knew , and I wished to god I didn't .

The line suddenly stopped moving and I was again pulled from behind , the elderly man I had briefly seen when our chains had been linked back to front was hardly able to stay on his feet anymore , I could hear his breathing was laboured and scratchy , like an old Volkswagen engine that's giving you time to make alternative arrangements before it conks out altogether , I had a car like that once .

As the dark form moves towards me I desperately look to the floor , my white bare feet , I squinted my eyes and recanted my sins , please not me , please not me

It was me

My arm is jerked as ice cold fingers grip it painfully , I want to cry out but I've seen what happens to those who make a fuss , I've only been here a few hours and already I know all too well

I try to control my shivering as my neck chains front and back are unfastened , quickly the gap I have left in the line is closed up , the old man behind me is joined to the sickly looking black lady who had been in front of me , her skin was pallid and thin looking and I was willing to bet on better days it was supposed to be a warm rich coffee tone

My ear tag is pulled sharply and I can't hold in the cry of pain this time , the vampire who I had yet to look out ran a small device over the bar code printed on it until a resounding beep presumably gave him the information he was looking for , he takes a moment to read it and I hear another gruff voice speak over his shoulder '' Prime Stock '' , I hadn't even heard Vampire number two approach but I'm starting to learn you usually don't hear them coming , mores the pity .

Vampire one grunts and before I know what happening a hand clamps down achingly on my left breast , the squeezing is almost excruciating as he seems to inspect it , my face burns with shame and disgust at this callous grading of my assets , I wonder if things can get any worse until what happens next

As quick as it appeared the hand leaves my breast and swiftly travels down my gown , down and then under it , my movement is instinctual to protect myself , I try and double over but as one hand snakes between my clamped together thighs a second grips me by the scruff on the neck and gives a warning shake , the message is clear , hot tears stream my cheeks as I feel a cold digit slide roughly into me , I whimper and fight the urge to vomit right there on the vampire shoes

This entire time I have been looking at the floor , I don't want to look at these things faces , I know that's what they are now ''Things '' , Vampire to me indicates some sense of a person but I can't think of them like that anymore , not after what I've seen .

My '' Grading '' is not over soon enough but next I'm being frogged marched to the side and then to stand in front of a grey metal door , I can see the words '' Prime Stock '' has been stencilled onto the door , I still can't see the thing behind me as it has not let go of my neck yet , I'm jerked and moved like a meat puppet.

The door is slid open by my puppeteer and then without preamble I'm tossed inside like a sack of potatoes , I hit the ground with a grunt and remain where I fall

From the corridor I hear a raised voice shout out

'' Be more careful , those are worth a fortune , if you want to beat something up , pick one of the older ones ''

The thing in front of the door with a far more intimate knowledge of my body than I would like grunts again , I wonder briefly if it can actually talk .

The door is slammed shut and I'm plunged into darkness , but I'm grateful I'm alone , if that thing had followed me into the dark I wonder if I would have died of fright

I have , like all women I suppose at one point or other contemplated the abject horror that must be rape , it's human nature , your brain go's to the darkest places just because you don't want it to , I try and imagine how I'm going to handle that when it comes , it's a sign of my times that I don't wonder ''If '' but ''When ''

Every human , every wretch out there has blood pumping through there terrified veins , but that had nothing to do with how nice my breasts felt or how tight my vagina is , it's simple deduction

I don't fight it anymore , I heave my last free meal all over the floor and then crawl to a far corner to huddle in

I curse my luck and I curse God , I curse that I'm not already in the cold ground with no more fears or troubles

And just so I'm not being unfair I curse myself

I had applied old world values to this new world that had none , stupid , stupid , stupid

I had a good thing going back at the farm , and I know now after hearing other folks tales that I had it better than most

The old Stackhouse homestead had been built pre civil war , the infrastructure had been all there for a return to pre-industrial living , wood burning hearth that gave me heat , a natural bore hole on my land supplied me with clean albeit odd tasting water , I would boil the hell out of it before I drank it but after a few weeks I hadn't croaked so I figured I was good

My vegetable garden supplied me with food to flesh out my quickly vanishing dried and canned food , and when that wasn't quite enough I recalled my younger days setting snares with my father , it's one of the few memories I have of us spending real time together , he normally took Jason as it was a man's job to pass on such things to his son while the mother taught the daughter to sew and clean , such was the old fashioned division of the sex's in the deep south

But on day he had took me with him , it was easy enough to rig them , they were after all simple if a little cruel devices , but if PETA wanted to come down and give me any crap they could damn well try to sue me , they would be shit out of luck , if there was any justice in the world all the lawyers were long dead , I didn't really have enough ammo for the Benelli 12 gauge to go running round the woods blasting at anything that moved , it kicked like a mule so I had only envisioned it for home defence

I have to tell you as a women on her own as the world is ending , I felt much better having that cobalt blue steel and chestnut stock in my arms on cold dark nights , it had been one of the few things I had not given to the good will after my brother had been killed , he had more guns but I passed them to his friends as they would get more use out them , and I think it's what he would have wanted , I gave Hoyt , Jason's old bolt action rifle it had been the one they had shared when they were kids growing up , those two had been the scourge of every squirrel in a five mile radius , I had been disgusted by the senseless killing but I was told it wasn't girl stuff anyway and to go play will my dolls

I had about two dozen rounds of triple-aught '6 that I knew if push came to shove could blast a man clean out of his boots , so I wanted to conserve this as much as possible , it wasn't as if I could pop down to Wal-Mart anymore to pick up more , I just knew leaving the safety of my home would be a bad idea , the risk of infection was high and also I didn't want to take the chance of running into anyone , folk can get pretty crazy , pretty fast when they're scared or think you have something they need or just plain want , I was under no illusions anymore about the world I was living in now , we had all taken a big jump back and now it was everyman or women for themselves , pretty bleak and cynical I know but I had to be realistic

The first time I had caught a rabbit in one of my snares I jumped for joy , then was hit with a stark reminder of why I had never gotten into hunting like my brother , skinning the rabbit was revolting for me , after I had scrapped out the guts and got the skin off I promptly spewed in my Grandmothers rockery in between the azaleas , it was a good thing I had decided to do it out side . I felt guilty as Gran loved that rockery , I mumbled a quick apology and a prayer , but I'm sure Gran would have understood , then she would have swiftly kicked me in the butt and said '' Put you big girl panties on Sookie '' . So I did and the rabbit and carrot stew I had for dinner that night more than made up for the multi coloured yawn I had endured .

After that I could skin ten a day without batting an eye lash , Davy Crockett was starting to have nothing on me

My wind up radio was my only source of information from the now alternate dimension the outside world had become , most of the time it was just the emergency broadcast system , long dull bleeps then a pre-recorded message giving the same update over and over again

'' Stay indoors , do not approach the sick '' Yeah , thanks for that .

In the early days there had still been what we may have recognised as a news type broadcasts , some new doctor or expert telling us how Gundown may be a mutated form of Influenza or even H1N1 , as if that made a damn of difference now , did they imagine the folk laying on their sick beds drowning in their own blood really give a fuck if what was eating them alive had a fancy name ? . Pathetic , about as much use as tits on a bull as Jason would to say .

But after a while those stopped all together , maybe they ran out of experts

I fiddled with the dials sometimes , got little snippets of what sounded like foreign languages but nothing I could really do anything with , I only spoke two languages , English and bad English

Then one night I found if I jammed the frequency between two settings I got different voices , they were garbled and hard to make out but they were there , I realised eventually they must be CB radio broadcasts , same thing the truckers used and such , soon after I wished I had never made that discovery .

They were messages from a dying country , some just begged repeatedly for help , I'm sick , I'm starving , please help . And those were the good ones , the ones I hated the most were the ones begging for others , my husband is sick

My baby is starving

It was like a car crash , I just couldn't not look , I would go for days at a time before I cracked and went back to them , I had no way to talk back but just hearing them let me know I wasn't alone in the world .

I got to listen as people I had never met and never would fell apart on the airwaves , choked sobs and laboured prayers , one time I listened to a women sing a sweet church song , she had the voice of an angel , in better times I could imagine her leading her Baptist Choir in praise , long flowing purple robe draped around her as she raised her hands to the ceiling to hold those long soulful notes

Every night for three nights straight at the same time she would come on , each song was more beautiful than the last , each more meaningful , I would wonder if she and I ever came across each other would we be friends , would she keep my spirits up by singing to me in that heavenly tone .

On the fourth night she could just about get the words out in-between long jagged coughing fits , each hack was like a knife in my gut , I listened and wept as Gundown cut this little piece of heaven on earth to ribbons

Until there was just silence and static

I dragged a dining room chair out and hid the radio onto the tallest shelf in the house , I was done torturing myself for a while , I thought maybe it was just better not to know .

Then the night came I was cracked out of my safe little nut

I had just finished my dinner and was blowing out the candles in the living room when I heard something that other than on the radio , I hadn't heard for months

It was a voice

For a moment I thought maybe I was hearing things , the Louisiana nights could be creepy with all the critters rustling around out there , but sure enough after another minute it came again low and distant sounding '' Help me '' , Those two words I could make out clear as day , I scrambled clumsily for my rifle , it stood ready and loaded in its place by the front door . I checked it just to be safe and slid down the wall with my back to it and waited , '' Help me please , I'm hurt ''

It sounded raspy and strained but close

My mind went a mile a minute , a hundred thoughts bounced round my head , should I help , should I just stay put , would they try and get in , round and round they went till I was a bit dizzy

My front door was an original fitting from when the how was built , it still even had the big iron dead bolt the travelled the entire width of the entrance , this door had been built to withstand pillaging invaders , it had kept my forbears safe during the war of northern aggression , there was no way it was coming down easy , plus it had a letter flap cut at waist height for the post , if anyone did start pounding on it I could always shove the shotgun through the flap and ''POW '' a crotch full of 00 buckshot would stop just about anything on god's green earth

'' Help me , please , I need help ''

FUCK , could I really just sit here cowering in the dark while someone died on my front yard ? . What would my gran say ? . What would she think of me looking down on her little girl as she turned her back on someone in need , all my church on Sunday and night time prayers and when I have the chance to help , to carry out what Jesus taught and died for I clam up shut and consider shooting them in the nuts? .

God help me I couldn't , I just couldn't

My hand trembled so bad I could hardly get the door unlocked but once I did I slowly opened it up , it was dark outside or course , pitch dark , I couldn't see a blessed thing , I gingerly steeped out with my quivering rifle pointed straight ahead , when I made it to the first step on the porch , it happened

It seemed like this great wind sideswiped me and yanked the gun up , I squeezed the trigger and blew a basketball sized hold in the veranda roof , no sooner had my head made contact with the floor , a vice attached itself to my ankle and pulled me so hard I think I must have flew at least ten feet before landing in a heap on the yard

No time to get my bearings I was gripped by both arms and whisked up to face a snarling visage straight out of a horror movie , it was pale and gaunt , I couldn't help but be drawn to the two sharp fangs that hung from its mouth like murderess looking icicles from the maw of a cave

Sookie , meet Vampire , Vampire meet Sookie

The rest is some hideous montage of throwing and dragging and tossing around , a van or big car then a bumpy rough ride in the dark , more dragging and now a compound or building , high fences all around , barbed wire , formless shapes in the dark perimeter , patrolling , watching

I'm tossed from one pair of hands to another like a food aid package at an relief station , in retrospect that was a pretty good assessment , although I hadn't figured out that horrible bit of information yet .

Before I know it I'm inside and my clothes are literally ripped off me , right down to my knickers and then my bra is yanked painfully straight off my back

I'm dumped in a sheep dip set up filled with noxious chemicals that burn my skin and sting my eyes , I'm blind as a day old baby as some sort of gown is pulled over my head , I just about have time to put my arms up before its pulled down , like dressing a toddler

All while this is going on , my brain seems to be having some form of spasm , I'm just not given any time to proses what the hell is happening to me

Then it's time for the tag , I squint through my chemical haze to see what looks like a cross between a nail gun and a monkey wrench be brought to bear against my head , I try and squirm but a hand grips my head so hard I think it might pop like a grape , my ear is pinched in the device then

CLINK

The pain shoots through me , white hot and visceral , Jesus Christ that hurts . I can feel there is something hanging from my ear now , it sends fresh waves of pain through me when it flops around

Then shoved along again , I can make out others now , people are being stripped like me , some I can see are naked as the day they were born , some are in thin gowns , the backs flap open to expose more than they should .

The floor is tiled in white , so are the walls and even the ceiling , I try and get my bearings but I just can't , all around me there is screaming and shouting , I'm gripped from behind and held fast but unmoving , it gives me a moment to just watch what's happening , the tiled room is large but the ceiling is low , hooks hang in rows from bolted fixtures , its dark but I can make out more than I wish I could

A few feet in front of me a large naked man is held by the arm as a black clad figure advances on him , the one holding him grabs his head and twists it to the side , I recognise the monkey wrench gun

Before he can be tagged , he somehow lashes out and knocks the device from the approaching figures hand , as it turns out that was a big mistake

Faster than I can follow the first figure draws back his arm and backhands the man so hard I swear he must have hit the wall doing twenty miles an hour , he slumps in a pile at the base , I can see blood running from his mouth and nose .

It's like a Mexican wave go's through the place , every black clad figure seems to go rigid , I can feel the one holding me from behind has pulled me even closer and is now sniffing me , Christ he is sniffing me like a piece of pecan pie

Some of the figures stop doing whatever it is there doing and move slowly over to the crumpled helpless man , he is steadily regaining consciousness but for what happens next I bet he wished he hadn't .

They fall on him

It's like a down pour of bodies , he just disappears under the thrashing black forms . Then he starts to scream

It erupts in high pitched bursts , incoherent babbling , he's begging

Behind the heaving mass of what must be half a dozen bodies is the white tiled wall , so when there is a wet crunching snap sound every person in the room gets to see the splash of crimson that shoots out of the melee to coat the surface

Everybody who wasn't screaming starts to , everybody who already was , screams harder

I join them

When one of the thrashing forms detaches from the feeding frenzy to start to lick the wall , I just about feel my sanity loose its grip , I'm teetering on an edge here and the fact that the figure holding me is now growling and sniffing harder , is not helping

Over the absolutely deafening roar of screams and shouts and growling , comes a booming voice , I don't move , I'm to scared to so I have to wait until the owner strides into my view , he's dressed different to the all-black clad nightmares that have just ripped a man to pieces in front of me

I'm no expert but I think they call it an oxford button down suit , its navy with a slight sheen to it , I can hardly believe this figure wearing Sunday best complete with loafers is roaring with authority at these monsters with blood smearing every bit of their faces , thicker looking clumps of what I'm guessing is flesh is spattered around their mouths

I'm going to puke

'' Get this place back in order NOW , or il have your heads , no dipping into the stock , or face the true death , now clean this mess up ''

He waves his hand at what used to be a human being but now more closely resembles a quivering mass of broken bone and pulped jam , the black clad figures shift and murmur assent like public school boys given an unpleasant task after being caught doing something naughty .

When oxford suit figure turns towards me I swear my heart stops beating , it literally stops because up till now it has been hammering in my ear , but now under his gaze it's like it's trying to hide my presence , unaware that its actions may very well kill me

He points at me , and I close my eyes , I make my piece and hope I will see Gran and Jason and mamma and papa soon

I hope it wont hurt for long

'' And you , stop slobbering on the goods , get that checked in and then get yourself back out with the scouting parties ''

It takes me a moment to figure out he is talking to the figure holding me , my heart starts beating again

I hear the clink of chains as something is clamped around my neck non to carefully , I'm shoved into a line of other shaking and terrified people and chained at the front and back in a conga line of misery

As the line starts to move I make the mistake of looking to my left as I hear a women scream and beg , a few feet away two of the figures are dragging a naked girl across the room , one on each arm they walk into an adjacent room and throw her to the ground where she huddles jibbering and begging and crying , one of the figures drops to his knees and pushes her onto her back , he quickly wedges himself astride her , wedging her legs open to accommodate him , she screams harder as he seems to fiddle with his belt , figure two looks up from observing to catch me watching in transfixed horror from across the room , he takes three steps forward and slams the door shut , the sound cuts off the girls scream mid pitch

It's the sound of that girl begging that rings in my ears as I sit here huddled in the corner , the smell of my own vomit hangs in the air , that and pure undiluted fear . I'm not sure how long I stay in that state , my mind and body seem to be at war , the physical form seeks rest while the mind recoils from such an action , I've read about this , soldiers get it sometimes if there on the front line to much

I drift in-between the waking worlds nightmare and the just as dark world of my inner mind

The sound of the door being pulled open brings me back with a start , light flooding in sends my eyelids jarring shut , seeking refuge from the glare

I hear one set of heavy footfalls enter the room , my guts clench , then I hear another set enter

'' Here she is , prime stock , worth every cent '' The voice seems to echo in the enclosed space

I want to be sick again , but there is nothing left inside me

On many levels