Everyone Dies in the End #42
Katarina
A few hundred miles away from Cindy’s U.S. Army (if there really was a U.S.
Introductions past, Vader and his entourage were well into the trial of the first defendant. If a trial was what the procedure could be called. The defendant was a buxom, curly, brown-haired twenty-something, dressed in a t-shirt and filthy, flowing cotton skirt. The crowd murmured with anticipation when she was led onto the stage. The evening and cathedral trial opened with a speech by Vader.
“Trust,” he had spoken. “Trust is the problem with this world.” Then he had laughed, a sound that was a little too close to maniacal for Kat’s comfort. “Trust is what has brought civilization to its knees, or really…” and here he hesitated, and in that hesitation, Kat could have heard a pin drop, “or really,” he repeated himself, “the lack of it. Am I right, my brothers?”
“Yeah!” the semi-drunk, unwashed masses thundered back.
The black helmet nodded. “You damn right I am. Trust and truth, those are the cornerstones of the society we’ll build.”
Yeah, thought Kat, and when you say “we” you mean “you.”
“Trust,” he spoke this word softly. “We,” just a little louder, “will” he was shouting now, and between each word the crowd screamed.
“bare,” Vader shouted.
“Yes,” the crowd screamed.
“the,” Vader shouted
“Yes,” the crowd screamed.
“Truth,” it was pandemonium, and the trial began.
Vader read each charge against the girl. It was after the second charge that Kat blinked, and the cheering began. A guard held each of the young woman’s arms. She had struggled briefly when they brought her out, but a loud slap across her face by a third guard reduced the struggles to nothing more than tears and whimpers. Now with each charge, the third guard tore off a piece of the woman’s clothing. Charge one and the shirt was ripped from her back, revealing a pale torso, breasts held by a plain white brassiere. Charge two and a knife glinted in the guard’s hands. With a deft flick of the wrist the bra was cut and it fell to the stage. And then Kat blinked her disbelieving blink. So, this was Vader’s version of revealing the truth, and this was why the church was packed.
The limp-haired man beside her licked his lips as the next charge was read and the sobbing woman’s skirt torn away. No surprise there, Katarina thought, and her eyes flicked to the guard stations lining the wall, most of Vader’s men were also mesmerized by the sight of the young woman’s flesh, and a plan began to form in Katarina’s mind.
On the stage, one set of eyes did not gaze at the now nude woman’s skin, or at the angry red rips raised on her back by the whip Vader personally wielded. The eyes’ irises swirled with an unearthly light, and their owner, their ebony-skinned owner, would be the ruination of Katarina’s plan.
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