By the flickering light of a hurricane lamp, the rebels argued over their plans. "It has to be done my way," Anissa insisted, her broad squarish face shining red in the light, her huge dark eyes intense. "Our fighters aren't motivated--they need a cause!"
"They should have a cause already," Stefan muttered. "Our freedom."
"It's not enough, evidently," the girl shot back. "They need more, and we have to give it to them, regardless of the cost!" He sighed, shook his head; he'd been arguing with her for hours, he was argued out. At last, he gave in, he agreed to her plan; at that point the meeting broke up. Anissa and Stephen retired to a bedroom for the night, where he again attempted to talk her out of her plan; she would not hear to it.
The next morning, as planned, four of the young men were waiting in the courtyard when Anissa came out. Shuffling their feet uncomfortably, they watched her come. She was dressed in her usual flannel shirt and blue jeans; she looked a little unsteady on her feet, and Stefen helped her as she walked.
"Less get started," she said, slurring her words. "Less get on with it, I donn wann this stuff t'wear off---"
"What do you want us to do first, Anissa?" one of the men asked.
She smiled at him, almost seductively. "I want you to shoot me," she said simply. "You have to bring me down, first of all." She pointed off to her left. "I'll run that way-- shoot low, shoot me in the legs. Be sure you don't kill me."
"But Anissa--"
Her face went tight. "Just do it! Now!" She turned away and started trotting off slowly; the men raised their pistols and rifles, they aimed them at her, but they were hesitant. "Shoot!" she screamed over her shoulder. "Shoot me, Goddamn it!"
His hand shaking a little, one of the men aimed a handgun at her and fired. She gave a little cry, she staggered; the hip pocket area of her jeans on the right started to show bloodstains. Limping now, she ran on. Another man took careful aim with a rifle and squeezed the trigger.
The bullet struck her left leg, just above her knee; grabbing her thigh, she screamed and fell. The men rushed up to her, knelt beside her while she groaned and clutched at her severely bleeding leg. "My God, Anissa," one of them muttered. "What can we do?"
"Just get on with it," she commanded through her grinding teeth. "You know what to do next!" The man who'd spoken, nodding, reached out and started carefully unbuttoning her shirt. "No, dammit!" she cried, shoving his hands away. "Not like that! Tear my clothes off! Take out your knives and cut them off! You can't be gentle with me, it'll show, it won't look right!"
The men looked around at each other, then went into action. The one who'd started to unbutton her shirt now pulled her up a little and ripped it, popping the buttons and tearing the fabric; another tucked his knife in the waistband of her jeans and slit them open. In a very short time they had stripped her naked. At that point, most of them paused to stare; they'd known Anissa had a good body, but they hadn't known how good. Her waist was very tiny, her legs perfectly shaped, her breasts high and perky, her hips trim and firm. The wound in her buttock had by then mostly closed up, but the one in her thigh still bled freely, streaming red down her leg.
She rolled onto her back and raised her arms. "Come on!" she urged. "Let's do it, let's do it! Hit me, kick me, you have to bruise me up..."
With another collective sigh, several of the men opened their pants and began stroking themselves to erection. While they did, Stefen knelt beside her. "Ready for this?" he asked.
She nodded firmly. "Uh-huh." She tipped her face up. "Let's go, Stefan!"
He nodded too, and he wound his fingers in her thick dark hair. Once he had a firm grip he punched her squarely in the face, very hard.
She jerked involuntarily and grunted; almost immediately her jaw and lip began to discolor and swell. Once started, Stefan didn't pause, he followed his first blow with hard punches to her ribs, her midsection, her ear--and several that were directed against her breasts. Each left a mark, marks that quickly began to turn into bruises.
"Think that's good enough?" he asked, releasing her hair.
She laid down on the ground. "Yeah... yeah. Let's get on with it, let's get on with the rapes..."
For this she did not have to encourage the men so much. One of the men knelt between her legs. Unzipping his pants, he extracted his already-hard cock and pushed himself inside her. "Let me suck your cock, Stefan," she asked. "There should be come on my face..."
He unzipped his pants as well, offered her his penis, and she began sucking him eagerly. Before long, he quivered in orgasm; she took a small amount of his semen into her mouth, then let the rest run over her face. Seconds after Stefan had finished, so did the man fucking her; the next pair of men took their places eagerly.
"Okay," Anissa said after the last man had had sex with her. Her voice trembled a little; she looked pathetic, semen drying on her face and body, blood still oozing from the bullet wound in her leg. "Okay, it's time to finish it now. You have to remember, don't do it quick. It'll show. Be rough, really hurt me, really hurt me bad." Again, the men hesitated, they seemed uncomfortable; she turned to Stefan. "You'll have to get it started," she said. "Please, Stefan, just do it..."
His face a mask, Stefen reached down and grabbed her arm. "We'll drag her to the post," he said, matching action to words. "Tie her to it, do it there. That'll look right, and it'll make maximum impact."
Although Anissa winced from the pain of the bullet wounds, she made no objection, no comment; Stefan and one of the other men dragged her to the signpost he'd indicated, and they tied her to it with her wrists high above her head. Standing in front of her, Stefan took his bayonet from its sheath at his waist.
"You're really brave," he whispered. He stroked her face; then he stabbed her, in her stomach, down low.
She grunted loudly as the blade went into her, as her blood came spurting out. "Oh, Stefen, oh God, no, not so quick, you have to torture me, you have to...!"
"I am," he said, his face and tone wooden. He worked the thick blade up and down inside her. She gagged as blood leapt from her mouth. "A gut wound like this, it'd take you hours to die." He pulled the bayonet free and almost immediately stabbed it into her breast, high on the right, not very deeply this time. "Come on," he snapped at the other men as he began dragging it downward, ripping a deep and freely-bleeding gash in her breast. "Help me here, cut her up some. There's sure as hell no point in making this take any longer than we need to!"
The other men, if reluctantly, joined in. Blades sank into Anissa's hips, her thighs, both breasts, her sides. She groaned and squirmed as her body became covered with her own blood, as a pool of it collected on the ground beneath her, but not once did she call for a halt, not once did she ask for mercy.
"Be thorough," Stefen ordered grimly. He laid the edge of his knife against her left breast, just above her nipple, and methodically sliced it off. "We don't want her to have gone through this for nothing!" He held her tormented face in his hand, gazed at her for a moment; then, brutally, he pushed the point of his knife into the corner of her right eye. She screamed in agony but he went right on, forcing the knife in behind her eyeball and snapping it out of its socket. The other men, shuddering, continued to inflict stabs and slashes on the rest of her body; while blood streamed down her face Stefen enucleated her other eye as well, blinding her. She shrieked, she made unintelligible noises, but she still, even now, did not ask for mercy.
"Enough," Stephen said finally. "It's time to end it; I'll take care of it." While the other men backed off, Stefan, ignoring the blood, kissed her; while his lips were pressed to hers he buried his bayonet in her lower abdomen. Working quickly now, he dragged it across, sawing deep, letting the blood come spilling out in a flood. When he'd sliced a line all the way across her belly he shoved his hand inside and, grabbing a handful of her entrails, jerked them out of her. Her intestines hanging down past her knees, she continued to gasp, to shudder, to live.
"She is tough," Stefen said, frowning. He gestured to one of the other men. "Here, grab her feet, pull her up." The man did as he was told; under Stefen's direction, he continued to raise her feet until her torso was almost horizontal, her body stretched between the man holding her ankles and the bonds securing her wrists to the post. With the tension, the incision in her abdomen gaped open.
Using his knife, Stefen began cutting down her side, widening the incision even more. Blood and other fluids spilled from her, splashing on the ground; Stefen kept cutting, moving around her back and then quickly switching sides. Her mouth was wide open in a now-soundless scream as organs fell from her body to the ground. Shoving the remaining ones out of the way, Stefen hacked through her spinal column.
The man holding her feet staggered backwards, taking her legs and hips with him. The top half of her bisected body swung back against the post, hitting it with a wet thump. Both halves of her body quivered and jerked; it seemed almost as if her legs were trying to kick free. The man holding her ankles dropped it, and it twitched a few more times before becoming still.
"That should do it," Stefen said, stepping back and viewing the mess they'd made of Anissa's body. "As long as they believe the enemy was the one responsible..."
"Let's hope they never find out the truth..." one of the other men muttered.