*** Author's notes
This is currently a one-off story. It has an ending but not a conclusion, and I don't have any ideas in mind for how to continue, but I liked how it started and wanted to share. Just a warning.
Second, there are some made up places/countries that are (in my opinion) pretty obvious analogies for some european places/countries. The events are all fictional and not related to any real-world history.
Finally, this contains non-consensual sex. So don't read it if you don't like that.
Obsession Returned
Six years before:
The chains always held fast, but, at the very least, they were padded. Gerhard had always afforded her that comfort. It did nothing to calm Louise as she tugged fruitlessly at the solid oak bed frame that her shackles were wrapped around. The bedpost rose up some twenty feet to the ceiling, so there was no going over the top. Not that she could have stood up, even if she wanted to. He had also shackled her feet to the opposite bedpost.
From everywhere came the sounds of gunfire. Her countrymen were coming, though she wasn't sure whether to thank the creator for their presence just yet. She had become quite used to gunfire over the past few years, but more recently she had been sheltered from it thanks to Gerhard. It had been a few months since she had last seen an execution in the yard. Since then, it had been silence, an unsteady ceasefire that had finally broken.
Ayes Fort, an eastern fort occupied by the Eutors two and a half years prior was being overrun by the galderans. Her people. Her brethren.
More gunfire sounded from very nearby, just down the hall if she had to guess. Usually it would be Gerhard's footsteps her ears attuned to, or maybe the changing of the guards. She suspected the gunfire had taken down whoever was standing outside the door, guarding a girl who couldn't go anywhere even if she wanted to.
The guns where followed by footsteps and shouting. Orders. She recognized the tone of the barking voices, even if the words were unclear. Doors slammed. They were checking every door. Louise knew that their search would yield nothing. Louise had watched as Gerhard had the rooms cleared out, all the papers burned. The only room he had kept intact was his bedroom, for her sake, he said. Then he had gone out to man the walls of the fortress, promising to return for her no matter what.
That had been a long time ago. Maybe a day or so had gone by. She had urinated through her nightdress and into the mattress twice, only to be strangely grateful that she hadn't felt the need to defecate yet. Hunger gnawed at her stomach, but the thirst eclipsed that pain entirely. Until the fire fight had started, she had slowly been coming to terms with the idea that she would die in this room, chained to the bed in her own filth, ignored by the guards she could hear coming and going outside. She knew they all hated her. She was only kept alive at Gerhard's behest.
She would have cried had she not thought to conserve what little water remained.
The door burst open, revealing silhouettes of men cut out of the light from the hallway. The wore long coats and helmets, and she could see gun tips that quickly moved to point at her.
"Arms down!" shouted the leader in galderan, lowering his weapon. He strutted into the room, coming into the weak lamplight that Gerhard had left on the bedside table. He was young, not much older than her, but grim. His eyes were fixed on her at first, then traveled up to the shackles on her wrists. She shivered as they slowly traveled down the length of her body to the shackles on her ankles.
"What do we have here?" asked the second man to come forward. He had a brutish face, eyes filled with malice and a frightening smile on his face. "An eutor whore?"
Louise pressed her arms forward weakly, the chains rattling as she reached for them. A third man joined, his expression curious. He was the youngest of the three. Just a boy.
"Please," she begged. Her voice was a travesty, dry and cracking on every other word. "I'm galderan. They've been keeping me prisoner. Please help me."
The men's faces filled with shock. The young one stepped forward right away, but the brute held his arm out to stop him.
"God above," said the brute. He stepped forward, couching his rifle on his shoulder. His smile had returned. "Not just a whore, but a traitorous whore."
Louise met his gaze, tears starting to well up for the first time in hours. They were painful, stinging her eyes. She stopped reaching out to them. "He forced me," she said. Over and over, even if she had accepted it after a while.
"Oh, I'm sure," said the soldier. He was standing above her now, his hand reaching out to finger the collar of her nightdress, flipping it over to expose some of her breastbone. "And he forced this fine lace on you too, didn't he? You must have been screaming as he pulled them onto you. Am I right, whore?"
She shook her head, screwing her eyes shut in silent denial.
"Disgusting," said the man. "Did you piss yourself, whore? Milton, come here. Put the bitch out of her misery before she can shame her country more."
Her eyes flew open in terror. After everything she had gone through, was this how she would die? Executed at the hands of her countrymen?
Neither of the other two moved. The young one was gripping his rifle with white knuckles, his eyes fixed on her. He was afraid as well.
"Come off it, Sebastian," said the grim one, pushing in front of the brute--Sebastian. He put himself between her and his comrade. "We're not going to kill her. The women and children are being taken to the mess hall. General's orders."
Sebastian huffed a laugh. "You're such a good little boy, Jacks. Always following orders." Louise was looking at him as his gaze fell on her once more. His smile turned into a grin. "Well, even if we aren't going to put her to death for treason, I don't see why we shouldn't punish her for it. She is a pretty whore, isn't she? And I've certainly had dirtier."
Louise' face fell, panic taking over every sense. It was going to happen again. It would never be over. Sebastian was right. She would be a whore for the rest of her life. If not Gerhard's, some other man's. This soldier, or maybe Jacks', or Milton's.
Jacks punched Sebastian square in the face, felling the large man with a single hit. Then he spat on him. "Fuck off, you animal," said Jacks. He turned to her, ignoring her stunned expression as he reached down to inspect the chains on her wrists.
