McDaurn Family Farm

Lewis County, WA, USA

TIME/DATE STAMP ERROR

WARNING: SYSTEM DAMAGE

The room was supposed to be cold. Not enough to damage whichever boy was stripped naked and thrown into it, but cold enough to make them miserable. The carpet was rough and threadbare, there was no furniture, the lights were cunningly concealed and barely gave out enough light for any occupant to realize just how dim and how escape-proof the room was. The walls were slanted slightly, wider at the top and closer at the bottom. The ceiling was artfully angled to made it so that it looked taller than it was. All in all, the effect was intended to make it seem like you were at the bottom of a deep well.

To me, after winters in Alfenwehr, the room was warm. The rug was comfortable to where it touched my skin, and the poison in my system was being driven through my body by my pounding heart, through my liver and kidneys, which would flush the poison into my bladder. The skinfire didn't matter. The Matrons thought it would, hell, it worked on older boys, but it wouldn't work no matter how much they wanted it to.

The door opened, but I didn't look, just stared at the ceiling. Rough hands grabbed me, dragging me.

Small. Still. Quiet.

"Place your arm on the table and wait for it to be secured." The instructor said. The table was small, stainless steel, like what you would see next to if you were in a hospital bed. Two restrains, designed to hold the arm and the wrist and just below the elbow, were made of plastic and steel.

The metal was cool when I set my left arm on the table. My mouth was dry with fear and I swallowed thickly. An uninformed instructor moved up to my arm, strapped it down, then moved on after checking the straps. A few minutes later another instructor came up.

"Do you consent?" He asked me. A formality.

"Yes, sir." I said. He nodded and removed an eye dropper from a brown-glass bottle.

"You realize what is about to be placed on your skin?"

"Yes, sir."

With that he squeezed a small drop on the skin of my forearm, put the eyedropper back, then lifted a Q-Tip that he smeared the clear drop into a circle about the size of a dime.

He nodded once, then moved on.

The spot burned, hurt, felt like acid on my skin. As I watched my skin started to blister. Little ones immediately cropping up, growing until they touched one another to form one big one.

Blister agent. Diluted, but still blister agent.

To teach us the effects of the weapon. To remind us why it was a weapon of last resort.

I sat still and quiet while the medic put a gauze pad over the blister and then wrapped the wound in gauze before adding another layer of standard cotton bandaging.

"Don't pop it. The liquid inside will cause more to appear, no matter what they told you in class." She whispered, and then moved on.

I shuddered as the memory shattered. I was laying naked on the floor, but unlike John, who was curled up, I was spread eagled, staring at the ceiling with unseeing eyes. I could see the iron rings in the ceiling.

Leather around my wrists. The creaking of brass cable.

"Most common is electricity. Amateurs will commonly just apply the voltage to your skin, or to your testicles and penis, or even your nipples." The small man in the suit said. I looked to my left and right and saw the others in my training group strapped to the tables.

"You will be asked questions during this segment, just like the others. We have told you the code words that will make the questioning, and thus, the enhanced interrogation, stop." The man said.

Nancy was licking her lips, her eyes sparkling and her nipples erect.

"We will begin."

The wire was wrapped around my little finger and another around my pinkie toe.

"Who is your commanding officer?" A man asked me.

"Stillwater, Corporal, US Army." I told him.

The voltage hit me. My finger was blackening, peeling, struck by a lightning bolt that did not stop. My pinkie toe was breaking, the bone shattering into ground glass that ripped and tore inside of it.

The pain stopped. I glanced at Nancy, only to see the instructor looking at her in confusion as she writhed in the middle of her orgasm, pleading for more, for the instructor to give her just a few more seconds.

"Who is your commanding officer?"

"Stillwater. Corporal. US Army."

The pain was back, worse than ever. Ants were burrowing under the skin of my legs, gnawing and chewing. My arm was covered in blister agent and it was all I could do not to scream.

It stopped again. A question was asked. I gave my name, rank, branch of service, and serial number.

It started again, repeated over and over. Different questions. Requests to call someone by a name. To renounce my loyalty to my Father, to my unit, to swear allegiance to someone else.

Name.

Shrieks of rage to get me to comply.

Rank.

More electricity. My heart was stuttering.

Branch of Service.

Lightning coursing through me. More demands. Now the electricity was powering me, filling my with strength.

I was Dr. Frankenstein's Monster, fueled by rage and raw lightning. Beyond their petty questions, beyond their weak commands.

More. Give me more. Yes. Yesssss.

It stopped, and I felt hands lay me back on a flat surface, which was tilted so my head was up. I stared up at the ceiling. My arms were still held out and slightly above shoulder height. The cables were released and the restraints bound to the flat surface.

Plastic was held up, as was a bowl of water.

"Swear your allegiance to the Matrons, Aodan, and this will all stop." A woman said.

I shuddered as my vision blurred. The tea taking affect again.

Martha bent over me, her face contorted by rage. Her green eyes were snapping with anger, her fat lips, shining with spittle, were twisted as she hissed at me.

"Vile nasty little boy. Should have drowned you at birth. Disgusting boy, defiler of girls, with your lusts and disgusting desires."

Hands pulled me onto a reclined hardwood chair. Straps went over my arms, my legs, across my chest.

I made myself small and still and quiet.

"You're nothing, worth nothing. Hopefully you'll die or someone will kill you before you get old enough to defile some poor young girl who's mother didn't warn her that animals like you will seek to take away her innocence and make her dirty in God's eyes." Martha grabbed my scrotum in her hand and clenched, the burning pain in my belly noticed finally.

"You don't deserve Jesus' love, you vile creature. If it wasn't for the fact that your father's family thinks you might be of some use, I'd drown you the next time I bathe you, you filthy little animal." Martha said. She turned the knobs on the tub and hot steaming water began to fill it.

"I know what you did with that girl. Playing? Hah. You were going to defile her. Tag was just an excuse to catch her away from watchful eyes and remove her clothing so you could spoil her in the eyes of God." Martha lifted me up, over he head.

And slammed me into the scalding water.

Small. Still. Quiet.

The water closed over my head, rushed into my nose and mouth. Despite what I wanted, I screamed, under the water, and it rushed into my lungs. I tried to sit up, tried to cough it out, but Martha's strong hand kept me under the scalding water. I sputtered, screaming under the water, trying to fight. I was too small, too weak, to resist her farm-girl bulk and the way she leaned into holding me against the bottom of the tub.

Just when I thought I was going to pass out she pulled me from the water.

"Your name is Aodan!" she shouted.

"Stillwater. Anthony. Corporal. US Army." I sobbed. "Stop, please."

She shoved me back under the water and I screamed, jerking and kicking.

Just when I thought I was going to die she pulled me from the water.

"Your name is Aodan." Martha screamed at me.

"Just say it, young Aodan, and all this stops." Great Aunt Rionoch said, wiping her hands on the front of her apron. Great Aunt Rionoch always had treats for me, always fussed over the scratches and scrapes young boys picked up.

"My name is Aodan." I said. "Please. No more."

"That's a good boy." Aunt Rionoch smiled. She turned to Martha. "See, Martha, all he needed was proper stimulus to be brought to heel. She turned back to me. "Your full name, please."

"Aodan McDaurn, Matron Rionoch." I said softly. "I'm Aodan McDaurn. Please stop."

"He's a vile, nasty boy who needs to understand his place. Return him to me." My birth mother demanded.

Matron Rionoch laughed at that. "His kelly claims him, and I have no doubt she would declare a blood trial to keep him." She laughed again. "I doubt you would fare as well against kelly Nagle as you did against young Aodan when he was 10."

The reminder of how I had stabbed her with a fork and ran away after she broke my elbow with a meat tenderizer made her flush.

"McDaurn. Aodan. Corporal." I said, staring up at the ceiling.

"Good boys obey their girl." Bomber said softly from somewhere nearby.

Matron Rionoch laughed long and loud.

"No matter how strong they are, they all end up kneeling."