The Ripple Effect

I knew the way, a straight shot past the dining area and down the hall. As I approached the area that branched off into the two ballrooms—one for sex and the other for violence—I heard horrible screams coming from a man and woman.

At first I thought it was due to sex, but when I walked to the side where I wouldn’t be seen to take a look, I found the slaves were—for the most part—as I’d left them. Tethered and gagged. A few had their legs spread with blood seeping down their thighs. Sex had definitely taken place, but apparently that portion of the evening was over.

I crept over to the other ballroom, staring inside. The entertainment and screams came from a young couple—no more than sixteen or seventeen years old—who were trying to crawl to each other. Both had been beaten, and the bloody tears along their bodies told me they’d been stabbed or cut numerous times. The vampires in the room were spread out, chatting, though a few watched the humans writhing on the floor. Revenald, Anton and Victoria were enjoying the action from their chairs.

“Mark,” the girl sobbed, trying to get her arms under her, slithering forward on her belly. She was a delicate little thing, under five feet, her white-blonde hair matted with blood at her temple. Her crystal blue eyes radiated pain—pain and terror.

“Christy,” the young man cried out, attempting to move to her as well. He was lanky as some teenagers were prone to be, his muscles long and lean. His brown eyes matched Christy’s in their despair, his Justin Beiber-like hair hanging over his forehead.

“Would you die for him?” Revenald asked, lifting his hand and studying his nails. “Would you be willing to sacrifice your life so that he might live?”

“Oh God,” Christy rasped, shaking her head. “I don’t want to die. I’m not ready.”

“How about you?” Revenald continued looking at his hand, as though the tortured souls on the floor were of no importance. “She shows no such admiration for your life, but would you die for her? If I gave my word she will be allowed to live, would you offer your life in place of hers?”

“Yes,” Mark answered, reaching out to the young woman who was almost within his grasp. “I will.”

“No.” Christy’s pleas were wracked with horrible intakes of air as she tried to breathe and speak. “Don’t, Mark. Please don’t.”

“I told you he’d break first,” Anton said. “Females aren’t as noble as their counterparts. It’s not in their biology. They always worry about themselves first. Selfish little bitches.”

“It’s just as well,” Victoria remarked. “I’ve been dying for fresh meat, and she smells delicious. I can’t wait to sink my teeth into her.”

“You said you’d let her go!” Mark screamed, appearing crazed. “You gave me your word.”

Revenald finally lifted his gaze and looked at the man on the floor. “You’re still alive. Nothing I’ve said applies. Perhaps we’ll see if you feel the same way once you’ve seen your lover fucked by every person in this room.”

“Just kill me.” Finality was in Christy’s voice now, an odd calm I understood. Death wasn’t shit when you were faced with gang rape. Especially when the odds were you were going to die, anyway.

“Ah, now she wants to be a martyr,” Anton drawled. “She doesn’t want to die, but she can’t stand the thought of being fucked. Definitely a virgin.”

“And he’s willing to die for her, without sampling her better assets.” Victoria rolled her eyes. “Idealism is definitely a human trait.”

“Humans are predictable.” Anton was quick to agree. “That’s why games like these have gone out of fashion.”

“How about we fuck them both at the same time?” Victoria offered. “Can you imagine the devastation? The violation? Perhaps we should keep them alive for a few days, allow the reality of the situation to sink in. That’s usually when they taste best, just before they lose all hope.”

“Please,” Christy whispered, sobbing like the kid she was. “I want to go home.”

J.A. Saare's books