Broken Ghost

RAPE WARNING


CODE: T (set in the Trench Rats/Tunnel Rats storyline)

TAKES PLACE DURING (specific story): The Trench Rats (in progress)

PAIRING: LC Silver Rat/Unnamed Nazi (M/M)

EXPLANATION: Potential spoilers. This is one of my scenes where I'm not sure how I came up with the exact idea. I have a tendency to really want to HURT my male characters, and the elite Silver Rat of The Trench Rats, despite his many talents, was no exception. Seems like the more versatile and admirable my characters are, the more pain I want to put them through...well, Silver gets put through the wringer in this particular scene. The backstory is this: He is the most wanted of the Trench Rats 1st Battalion, for his tendency of sneaking in, snapping the necks of the enemy, and then vanishing unseen, always eluding capture. This ability has earned him the nickname of the Silbergeist, or "Silver Ghost" (a nickname which causes him no small amount of grief in this piece). So of course his capture, preferably alive, is of great importance. An oversight on the part of one of his subordinates, PFC Reseda Rat (see "Wide Awake"), leads to Silver's capture and subsequent torture, the very end of which is shown here. In the story, this scene is to cut off just before the rape itself begins, leaving enough to hint at what's to come (the story hasn't gotten that far yet). This was meant to be the "excised scene" of that event. Silver's rape leads to his escape with Wolfstein (the followup scene involving this was written but has been misplaced somewhere), his rescue by and alliance with Didrika's forces (see "Keeping In Line" for more on her--a character who is oddly like himself), and the beginning of his relationship with Reseda, who before served pretty much as his whipping boy. Although very unusual I think the relationship between the two of them is believable, and this scene is what directly contributed to it. I think I also wanted to show in this scenario how even the most elite can fall prey to common mistakes, and be treated just as brutally as anybody else...and suffer the consequences as well.

DISCLAIMERS: I'm not sure of any; there's always a risk of continuity problems in a scene written before that part of the story has even been reached, but as it's all unwritten, who knows! Also please note that the great similarities between this and "Apophis's Day" were NOT intended...but somehow happened anyway. o_o

* * * * *

Broken Ghost

With one final cracking blow to the ribs, his tormentors left Silver lying bruised and battered, restrained spreadeagled and prone, on the table. His cracked ribs rose and fell; with each sucked-in breath he felt fire burning in his lungs, and he wondered how many had been broken--and how badly. He no longer resisted his bonds. With the state that he was in, he'd need all of his strength to escape later.

He knew that he would. It was just a matter of when.

They'd evidently convinced themselves that he wasn't going to speak. As a Trench Rat, he was well trained. Nothing they did, no amount of pain, would make him tell anything beyond his name, rank, and serial number. It looked as if they finally understood this.

His lungs burned. Perhaps they understood, but at what cost?

The interrogator put aside the rod he'd been using to strike Silver, giving him a mild look. Silver's head was twisted sideways so he could see him. His right eye was swollen.

The interrogator smiled. "Well. I see we underestimated your kind. You have been well trained. I suppose no amount of beating will convince you to tell us what we want to hear."

"You're finally catching on," Silver murmured weakly.

The interrogator's smile grew. "Yes. You can say that. However, we can always try. If we can't beat it out of you, perhaps we can humiliate it out of you." He flicked his hand, gesturing at the big Nazi at the side of the room, who came forward. Silver caught the delighted, sadistic smile on his face and instantly felt uneasy. The interrogator turned to leave.

"Our soldier here will keep you entertained until we return," he said, heading for the door. "Keep a close eye on him, and have fun."

"Ja," the Nazi said, as the door shut behind the others. He grinned down at Silver and moved out of his range of sight.

Silver fell still, straining his ears, listening for anything that would give him a clue as to what was going on.

A powerful hand suddenly clamped onto his jaw, yanking his head up forcefully. The big Nazi grinned down at him savagely.

"A pretty little boy, aren't you?" he rasped, then let out a bellowing laugh. "Not so pretty with your lovely face all smashed up. It's a pity. Such a lovely face, now gone to waste." He let go and Silver's head snapped back down to the table, his chin cracking against the wood. "It doesn't really matter much, pretty little soldier. The rest of you looks good enough. And with what I plan to do, I won't even need to look at your face." Another laugh, this one more malicious than the first.

Silver lay still for a moment, trying to catch his breath and his thoughts. He didn't like the big Nazi's insinuations. What could he have in mind--?

As if in brutal answer he felt the same large hands which had been pummeling him moments earlier now abruptly force his buttocks apart. Alarm lit through his body. He started struggling anew, more desperately than before, wrists and ankles twisting frantically. His ribs screamed in pain at the movement. The big Nazi merely laughed.

"What's the matter, pretty little soldier? Are you suddenly afraid of me? Why so now? You didn't like the beating I gave you, but I know you will love this."

Silver continued struggling. The leather straps cut into his skin and he gasped for breath, lungs burning. From behind and above him he heard the sound of buttons being undone. His fight renewed but the straps were tight and wouldn't give in the least. In desperation he strained as hard as he could, leather shredding skin, almost down to the bone. He willed the strips to give, his strength to hold out. His arms were growing weaker.

A sudden sharp jab in the small of his back made all of the breath leave his body; he didn't even have enough to hiss in pain. A knee pinned his right thigh in place and he heard a rustling fumbling sound; a moment later the big Nazi was leaning over him, whispering in his ear, voice thick and spittle stinging his cheek.

"Don't worry, pretty little soldier. I know you'll enjoy this. I won't be too hard on you."

Silver snarled and yanked on his bonds. "Bastard!" he managed to get out, before a blow to the back of his neck made his head spin, and then--rough hands, forcing him apart--and a searing, splintering pain tore through his body as the Nazi's weight bore down on him, deep into him. He let out a scream of pain and rage, arms twisting and pulling the bonds taut.

Even as he screamed the sound of the big Nazi's laughter came to his ears. "What's the matter, pretty little soldier? Not used to someone like me? Don't worry--it gets better as it goes along."

"You bastard!" Silver shrieked. Instead of a response there came a hard push which ground him into the table, followed by a heavy grunt. Silver bit off another shriek in the middle, a pained, broken cry escaping him. Even as he heard himself his eyes and mouth clenched shut, tears of agony and humiliation springing to his eyes. He couldn't believe the piteous sounds that escaped him now, as if coming from someone else; the thick, heavy grunts just above him seemed to be far away and yet all too close at the same time. Wave after wave of throbbing pain swept through him; shame and agony sapped his strength away. His fists gradually unclenched, arms and legs loosening and falling limp. His head rolled on his neck and collapsed to the table. He would have looked dead had it not been for the exhausted rise and fall of his ribs.

A hoarse, distant laugh. Silver's head swam. "See what I told you, pretty little soldier? It gets much easier if you just relax, and much more en--" a hard grunt "--joyable as well. Mmh. I was right about you, my pretty little thing. Hard to believe no one has--mmh--taken you yet. There's a first time for everything though." Another laugh; the pushing no longer hurt, only throbbed distantly. "I'm glad I've taken the time to get to know you better, pretty little Trench Rat. To think that you, the Silver Ghost--mmh--" a heavy push "--now you're mine, my plaything, my pretty little Silver Ghost. Don't be ashamed. It was bound to--mmh--happen." The Nazi's weight leaned over him, and there was a soft whisper, a surprisingly gentle stroke to his jaw. "Think of how well I could treat you, pretty little Silver Ghost, if you'd just tell me what I want to know--then we wouldn't need these straps like this--though I'm sure we could still be to--mmh--gether often, if you'd only relax and be mine, pretty little Silver Ghost. It's a shame what I had to do to your face. Mmh." He gave a tender kiss to Silver's bruised cheek, caressing his shoulder. "But bruises heal--and so too your lovely face--and all you have to do is speak up, and I will ask, and you can be all mine--we may then play at this together whenever we wish, without the straps. Mmh." A heavy jerk, a gentle caress. "What do you say, pretty little Silver Ghost?"

Silver didn't have the strength even to vomit. He simply lay spent and limp, eyes glazing over as if dead. He could barely feel anything anymore, and tried futilely to will his mind to shut down until this was over...whenever that could be...

* * * * *

The Nazi pumped his hips forward repeatedly, breath coming hard, enjoying the feeling. He kept his hands on the table to keep his balance, but he wished that he could place them on that lovely body beneath him...God, the Trench Rat was so perfect in every way, everything he'd always found attractive. He'd lusted after Silver since first being shown his picture; the reward for Silver's capture had nothing to do with it, but he wished that he'd been the one to catch him first, then perhaps they might not have needed the violence that had occurred already. He truly did regret bruising the Rat's beautiful face...that was an oversight on his part. It wouldn't happen again. He was sure he wouldn't need to convince him now. After this, this pleasure together, the Trench Rat would be able to do nothing but talk.

He also hated the straps, although they were a necessity. As much as he wanted to feel the Trench Rat, he wanted Silver to touch his body as well. He wanted Silver's hands on his hips, on his shaft...Silver's leg against his...Silver's tongue in his mouth. Perhaps even Silver within him, should he choose to try it. He wanted them to both enjoy it to its fullest.

These bonds weren't helping anything...

He leaned over again, still pushing. His tongue grazed Silver's ear.

"Pretty little Silver Ghost," he murmured--knowing that it would henceforth be his pet name of choice for the darling Rat--"I do so hope you enjoy this--mmh--as much as I do. When we are done, and when we've gotten that other little matter out of the way, how should you like to be inside me? You're not as big as I--mmh--but you are nice and sturdy enough. Or if you don't wish to do so, we may mouth each other. Mmh. You must have a beautiful tongue, most gentle and exquisite. Am I right? Shall we pleasure each other further?"

The Rat didn't reply, just lay limp. The Nazi didn't like that. If his eyes hadn't been partly open, he would have thought that he was unconscious.

"Little Rat? Are you awake?" A nudge and a frown. "Don't tell me you've gone cold on me. Not during such--mmh--a pleasurable experience as this. Mmh."

He noticed that he was wet, and looked down to see blood on himself. Not his own blood. He smiled, and stroked the Rat's back.

"I am your first, just as I thought. Well, don't worry; I was a bit rough before only because you didn't quite understand the situation--but I'm sure you do now." He groaned loudly and arched. Beneath him the Trench Rat let out a weak gasp and his fingers clawed the table. The Nazi laughed breathlessly.

"You--mmh--anticipate it--mmh--too. I told you we could--mmh--bring joy to each other. Mmh. Mmh. Mmh!"

His hips pumped faster. Oh God...the Rat felt so good and tight inside! He couldn't wait for what else they'd do together--the possibilities--taking Silver standing, legs wide apart, back arching, crying out in ecstasy--were endless, endless--

A heavy, forced thrust. A groan burst from him just as his seed burst from his body, flooding out of him. The Trench Rat jerked and tightened; the Nazi smiled contentedly. So he wasn't unconscious after all. Yes, they would have much fun, after this...much fun indeed...

* * * * *

Wolfstein sat in his cell not too far away, trying not to watch the horrid goings-on, yet also wishing to preserve some record of this atrocity for future purposes. He'd watched the Nazi's first attack and the beginning of his rape of the battered Trench Rat; then he'd respectfully turned away, closing his eyes on hearing the Rat's shrieks. No one so noble should be so humiliated. He turned away to grant the Rat the least bit of courtesy that he could.

When he heard the Nazi's groan of climax he turned back to see what would be done next. The Rat still hadn't said a thing. What would it take before they'd let him be?

The big Nazi was climbing off of his victim, tucking his flaccid member back into his pants and buttoning them up, a satisfied and sickening smile on his face. The poor Rat looked to be dead; Wolfstein worried that he was. Then the Nazi leaned close to the Rat's face, which was turned away from their observer, murmuring and stroking his cheek.

"What now, pretty little Silver Ghost? Do you tell me what I need to know? Or do you wish for more pleasure first? I can be lenient this one time. We still have hours left. I can even take off these binds, so you may enjoy it more, but first you have to speak to me...what do you say, little Silver Ghost?"

He smiled, waiting, and stroked the Rat's face. A moment passed. Then the next action occurred so quickly that Wolfstein didn't even have time to believe that it was happening until it was already over.

The Nazi's fingers glided over the Rat's jaw. At that moment the Trench Rat's head popped up and his teeth sank into the Nazi's hand. The big Nazi let out a howl of pain and tried to jerk his hand away but the Trench Rat held on like a terrier. Wolfstein silently cheered. Blood streamed down the Nazi's fingers as he wailed and jerked his hand around to get it free; only after an agonizing moment of this was he finally able to wrench himself loose, and the Trench Rat's head fell back to the table with a thud. Wolfstein winced. The Nazi only clutched at his wounded hand and bellowed in pain and fury.

"YOU DAMNED LITTLE COWARDLY TRENCH RAT!!" he screamed. "HOW DARE YOU WHEN I WAS SO GOOD TO YOU! I BRING YOU PLEASURE AND YOU DO THIS TO ME! I SHOULD RUIN YOUR DAMNED PRETTY FACE BEYOND ALL RECOGNITION, YOU LITTLE BASTARD!!"

Wolfstein quailed. The Trench Rat only lay panting and bleeding. The Nazi, getting no response, bellowed again and flailed his fists at the air like mad.

"YOU DON'T SPEAK, I ASSUME YOU LIKE PAIN, YOU STINKING COWARD! IF IT'S PAIN YOU LIKE THEN IT'S PAIN YOU'LL GET!!"

So saying, he stomped to the table, reaching down and inserting his fingers in the Trench Rat's anus. He then shoved his arm forward and upward abruptly, his hand disappearing inside. Wolfstein went sickly white. The Trench Rat's entire body lurched as if struck by a bolt of lightning. A horrid bloodcurdling shriek escaped him and it only went on and on. Wolfstein squinted his eyes shut and covered his ears as the Nazi kept pushing his fist sharply deep within the Trench Rat.

The Nazi snarled, hardly the semblance of a smile. "Do you enjoy this, pretty little Silver Ghost? Is this the sort of play you love? Will this be what it takes to get you to speak up?"

The Trench Rat's shriek broke just long enough for him to scream out, "FUCK YOU!!" The Nazi roared and pulled his hand free--Wolfstein looked, saw that it too was covered with blood--then it came slamming down on the side of the Rat's head. His shriek cut off and his body went limp so abruptly that this time Wolfstein was positive he must be dead.

The Nazi only screamed in rage, and his fists pounded down on the Trench Rat's body, raining furious bone-cracking blows upon his limp victim. Wolfstein had to turn away again to avoid crying out at the grisly sight.

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This item is not looking for critique. It was written solely for entertainment's sake. Although a scene from a possibly longer story, it is complete in itself and unless otherwise stated there is not going to be any more of it written. Additional unrelated SCENES may be written, but single scenes themselves are complete as they are. So please do not expect more. If you are interested in reading the series which INSPIRED the scene, just look elsewhere in my portfolio and you should find something. (Use the "story codes" given in the scene headers. For example, "MI" = "Manitou Island" series.)

I am not looking for critique on grammar, spelling, style, sentence structure, flow, or the mechanics of writing. What I AM interested in is commentary on such things as characterization, plot, symbolism, theme, etc.--the deeper aspects of the story. I like to know if a scene is believable, if the characters are interesting, what you thought of how they interacted, if the writing evoked any emotions, things such as that.

Feel free to criticize, but just keep in mind that I'm working on more important projects and shared this just for fun and/or to illustrate character interactions, so I don't plan to revise it any time soon. Comments on the characters, theme, etc. are more than welcome.