My Masters' Nightmare, Season 1 / Episode 13

by Marita A. Hansen

  I glanced at it as I passed by, disappointed that it looked abandoned. I kept on moving, slowing down as I neared a large barn on another property. Pure fear raced through me at the sight. Not knowing why, but wanting to, I headed for the door. My brain started screaming at me not to go inside. Ignoring it, I pushed open the door. It swung inwards, the creaking reminding me of the sound effects in horror films. And like the women in those films, I knew I shouldn’t enter—even though I would.

  I stepped inside, my eyes sweeping the interior of the barn. It had a rusty tractor in one corner, dirt and hay spread across the floor and… My eyes went to a row of horse stalls on my left. I walked over to them, my heart rate picking up the closer I got. Opening the one at the end, I stepped inside the empty rectangle and closed the door. On autopilot, I bobbed down and peered through the hole in the wood panel. I could see everything clearly in my mind’s eye, the images from seven years ago returning. And what I saw made me gasp.

  6

  SOPHIA

  Christo stepped into the barn with a gun to Jagger’s head. “Are you in here, schiava?” he called out.

  When I didn’t answer, he looked at the ground. “I can see your footprints in the dirt.” His eyes moved to the stall I was hiding in. “Come out, come out, wherever you are, my sweet little schiava.”

  I remained still, too terrified to move or even make a sound, my heart almost bursting out of my chest.

  Christo shoved Jagger to the ground and cocked his gun. “If you don’t come out, I will shoot him.”

  Before I could change my mind, I pushed opened the door and stepped out of the stall, unable to stop from trembling.

  He smiled at me. “Bring her to me, Jagger.” When Jagger didn’t move, he kicked him. “Get her!”

  Jagger rolled over, clutching his stomach.

  “Now!”

  Jagger struggled to his feet and stumbled over to me. He had a split lip and a bloody nose, Christo obviously having beaten him. It was the day after I’d made love to Frano by the riverside. Jagger had shown up at my house after school, barging inside, demanding to see me. That was when he’d seen Christo holding me by the throat. He’d thrown his school bag at Christo, making him let go of me, then had charged him, yelling at me to run. And I had, not looking back even though I knew Jagger was sacrificing himself for me, too terrified to do anything else.

  As Jagger came to a stop in front of me, he whispered, “We need to charge him together.”

  “No, he has a gun,” I whispered back

  “We don’t have a choice—”

  “Hurry up!” Christo yelled, cutting Jagger off. “Don’t try my patience.”

  Jagger took a hold of my arm and pulled me over to Christo. As we neared him, he let go of me and yelled, “Now!” He rushed Christo, but I remained still, again too terrified to help him. Christo kicked Jagger in the stomach, lifting him off his feet. Jagger came crashing down, looking winded and in shock.

  Christo used his foot to push Jagger onto his back. “Pathetic. No wonder my schiava chose Frano over you. You’re an embarrassment to the D’Angelo name, boy. All you’re good for is making my brother’s cock happy.” He prodded Jagger with his foot. “Get up.”

  Jagger remained on the floor, clutching his stomach, looking in pain.

  “No more warnings, Jagger. Get up. I want you to undress my schiava for me.”

  “No,” Jagger breathed out.

  “I have plenty of bullets in my gun, but all I need is one for a disobedient boy.”

  “You won’t kill me. The Padre won’t allow it.”

  “I wasn’t going to kill you,” he bent down and placed the gun to Jagger’s crotch, “just make another hole for my brother’s cock. So, how about you do as you’re told or become a bitch for real?”

  Jagger pushed up, struggling to his feet. He placed his hands on his knees, looking like he was ready to collapse.

  Christo pointed his gun at me. “Now, undress her.”

  Jagger turned around and reached for my blouse, muttering, “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t touch me!” I yelled, batting his hands away.

  “Stop fucking around, Jagger!” Christo barked.

  Jagger went for me again. I pushed him back, but he didn’t stop. He made a grab for my blouse. I yelled out and struck him the face. Grunting, he took a step back, then lunged for me as I tried to get past him. He shoved me hard into the tractor and ripped my blouse open. I screamed, trying to get away from him, but he spun me around, trapping me against the tractor. He yanked my pants down, using his foot to remove them. I started crying, begging him to stop, but he continued stripping me until I was fully naked.

  “Turn her to face me,” Christo said.

  Jagger spun me around, holding my arms so I couldn’t get away.

  Christo smiled, his eyes running over me. “Push her to the ground.”

  Jagger did.

  Christo pointed his gun at my head. “Get naked, Jagger, if you want her bullet free.”

  Jagger removed his clothes.

  “Now, fuck her,” Christo said.

  “I-I can’t,” Jagger stuttered out.

  “You can, unless you want a bullet in her head.”

  “Please don’t do this.”

  “Stop whining like a little bitch and fuck her like a man, it’s what you wanted.”

  “Not like this!”

  Christo’s eyes went to me as I pushed to my feet, intending on making a run for it. “Get down!” he yelled.

  In the distraction, Jagger went for his gun. Christo whipped to the side and hit him in the chest, knocking Jagger backwards. Yelling out, Jagger stumbled, almost falling over me. He righted himself, his expression pained.

  “Stop hitting him!” I yelled at Christo.

  “Finally found your voice, have you?” Christo said. “And I will stop hurting him once he learns he can’t beat me. My brother did say he was stubborn. So, last warning, Jagger: Fuck her now or she’s dead.” He cocked his gun.

  Jagger dropped down onto me, making me shriek. Even though I knew I shouldn’t fight him, that it was my life at risk, I couldn’t let him fuck me. I couldn’t! I would be spoiled for Frano, he wouldn’t want me … this was wrong, so wrong … I didn’t want to do this, I didn’t want him on me. He was bleeding, I was screaming, crying, struggling, and full out panicking.

  He jammed my arms into the dirt and nudged my legs apart with his knees.

  “Hurry up and start fucking her, Jagger,” Christo said.

  Laying down on me, Jagger pushed his face into my hair and started grinding against me, his sniffs telling me he was crying too.

  “Come on, Jagger, put more effort into it,” Christo said. “Right now, I’m thinking you’re gay.”

  Jagger continued to grind on me, his cock slowly growing.

  “I want you to fuck her, not to rub her to death. Stick your cock in.”

  “No, Jagger,” I sobbed, “don’t do it.”

  The gun cocked behind us. “Hurry up. You need to loosen her tight figa for me.”

  Jagger reached down and took a hold of his cock, the tip now at my pussy.

  “Now!”

  Jagger pushed his cock inside of me, making me cry out. My mind went to Frano. Even though Jagger was raping me, or Christo was through him, I felt like I was betraying our love. I knew it didn’t make sense, but nothing made sense now.

  I started begging Jagger to stop, my words blurred by my sobs. He did for a moment. A second later, he cried out, arching his back, his face twisted in pain. My eyes went to Christo, who was holding a long piece of rope that had been on the tractor.

  “Keep fucking her,” Christo snapped, flicking the rope out threateningly.

  Jagger started moving on top of me again, although he was now soft, his cock having slipped out of me. But he pretended to do what Christo wanted.

  Christo walked around us, laughing strangely. “Yeah, boy, take my schiava, loosen her up for me.”

  A yel
l came from the front of the barn. The Padre appeared above us a second later. He yanked Jagger off me, causing Jagger to shriek in terror. I went to help him.

  Christo kicked me back down. “Stay there, schiava; I want you to see what the D’Angelos are good for.”

  The Padre shoved Jagger to the ground and lifted his robe. Knowing he was going to rape Jagger, I scrambled to my feet and jumped onto his back. Christo yanked me off his brother and pushed me face first into the ground, climbing on top of my back. I struggled against him, screaming for him to let me go. He grabbed my hair and wrenched my head back, forcing me to look at Jagger’s face. Jagger was screaming and clawing at the ground, trying to get out from under the Padre.

  The Padre glared at me. “He’s mine, Daughter of Satan, he will always be mine.” He lurched forward on top of Jagger, making him scream, the Padre penetrating him.

  Then I screamed, Christo shoving his cock inside of me. Christo started fucking me, while the Padre did the same to Jagger.

  Jagger stopped clawing the ground and cried out, “Kill me, Dio!”

  I closed my eyes, wanting to die too.

  7

  RITA

  I bent over, the memory making me throw up the apple I’d eaten. Jagger hadn’t done anything wrong; it had been Christo and his sick brother. They’d hurt us, telling us it was our fault. I could still hear both of them talking, filling our heads with lies, telling us we’d asked for it, that we deserved it. We were just kids. I’d been a week away from my eighteenth birthday while Jagger had just turned seventeen, and those evil bastards had stolen our innocence, our youth. I wasn’t just going to kill Christo, I was going to torture him, then go after his brother and do the same to that bastard. After that, I would drag the Padre in front of Jagger and let him finish the rapist off.

  I straightened, knowing I wasn’t going to cry or beg this time round. I was going to curse and fight with everything I had. Now wanting to do more than save my brother, I headed out of the barn. I continued east, clearing the fields fast, my surroundings becoming familiar. I’d learned to ride horses here. The horses were gone, the pasture dry, but my memory was returning, bits and pieces of my life falling into place.

  I jumped over a fence, recognizing the road that led to the river. After Christo had raped and brutalized me, he’d thrown me into the trunk of his car, then had driven to the river. I’d been yanked out of it by the priest and thrown on the ground, the man having arrived in a different vehicle. He had screamed at me that I would pay for touching his angel.

  Although it had been seven years ago, it felt like yesterday, the wrong done to me so fresh I could scream. I jumped over another fence, hearing the sounds of the river. The priest had held me over the water, making me look at what Christo was holding in his hands. I stopped in my tracks, struck by the memory. When the Donatelli had first captured the D’Angelo house, Alberto had called ‘Sophia’ an only child, not realizing I was her, and since my memory had been locked away, I hadn’t questioned it, but now…

  I turned and headed through the trees, stopping in front of the river. I could see the spot where the priest had held me down. I’d been screaming at Christo not to kill my brother. He’d been holding Lucan’s head under the water. Behind Christo someone was begging him to stop. I couldn’t see who it was, the Padre blocking me.

  But it had sounded like Alberto.

  SOPHIA

  Alberto continued begging for my brother’s life. I didn’t know why he cared for Lucan or why he was even here. Maybe he’d gone for a walk and had stumbled across us, although that didn’t feel right, since Christo wasn’t hiding a thing from him.

  “Why do you want to save the retard?” Christo said, pulling Lucan’s head out of the river. My brother started spluttering and coughing, trying to suck in air.

  “I told you to only kill the girl!” Alberto yelled. “I only paid for her death, not Lucan’s.”

  “I’m giving you extra for your money, boy. When you hire me, I go above and beyond.”

  “No! Just kill Sophia, leave Lucan out of this.”

  “It’s too late now, he’s a witness.”

  “You weren’t supposed to get him involved in the first place! You caused this mess, you fix it.”

  “No, you caused it. You paid the Devil; you got holy hell in return. So, get back in your fucking car and leave.”

  “The deal was for you to kill the girl in front of me, no one else.”

  “Stop arguing and leave before Jagger wakes up. If he sees you here, your father will find out you’ve been spending his money on hits.”

  “That’s another thing: Jagger’s not even supposed to be here. You totally fucked everything up!”

  “Jagger showing up was unexpected, and my brother will take care of him.”

  “If he kills Jagger I will kill him!”

  “You watch what you say, boy, or you’ll end up in the river.”

  “Just don’t kill Jagger, I love him. I’m doing all of this for him.”

  “My brother loves him too, so stop worrying. He’ll just shoot him up with some drugs. It’ll look like he has a fever and is hallucinating. I have a doctor who will cover for us. My brother will also stay with him. No one will believe anything Jagger says, not even Jagger. He’ll probably think it’s all a nightmare.”

  “Just spare Lucan,” Alberto said. “I’ll pay you extra.”

  “No! Leave or I’ll kill you! Because you’re really pissing me off now.”

  Alberto grimaced, his eyes conflicted, then he swore, cursing Christo to Hell. He spun around and stormed to his car. He jumped inside and slammed his door shut, the car disappearing through the trees moments later.

  “You can’t kill the simpleton,” the Padre said.

  Christo turned to him. “I have to.”

  “Just fill him with the same drugs as Jagger and drop him off at the asylum. He’s half blind and has the mind of a child. He won’t give us up, and if he does, no one will believe him.”

  “You’re too soft.”

  “No. God told me that Lucan mustn’t die. He’s too pure. Even I can’t touch him or I’ll be struck down by his hand.”

  “And killing this pathetic girl isn’t a sin?”

  “She isn’t innocent. She’s a Daughter of Satan, and he wants her back.”

  “And the asylum isn’t a hell?”

  “You still can’t kill Lucan.”

  “Okay, okay, the asylum it is. Just don’t tell that fool Alberto. Let him feel guilty for Lucan’s supposed death.” He pushed up, yanking Lucan to his feet. “Now, kill my schiava.”

  “You don’t want to use her again?”

  “No, she’s pathetic. I hate weepy, weak women. So, drown her.”

  The Padre pushed my head into the river, my brother’s screams muffled by the water.

  RITA

  I gritted my teeth, wishing I’d stuck that knife into Alberto myself, the bastard behind everything. Furious, I headed back through the trees, working myself up more and more. I picked up speed, itching to get to Christo, so I could take my fury out on him, giving him his just desserts. After another twenty minutes of running, I spotted houses on the horizon. I continued onwards, not sure whether I should cut across people’s backyards or risk going by road. As I neared the properties, I veered towards the road, the wall of the first house high. It belonged to a lower level mafia family called the Orsini, their head a Capo. Surprised I knew that, I stopped behind some trees and peered through the branches, spotting a few cars parked along the road. Luckily, there was no sign of people, the houses spread out in this area.

  I slipped between the trees and cut across the road, quickly slipping behind the ones on the other side. I ran a hundred yards before coming across another fence. This one had belonged to a relative of the first house, probably still did, knowing the mafia. I zipped across the road again, hiding behind more trees. It seemed to be a pattern of trees, house, trees, house; all of them connected to the Orsini. I’d forgotte
n how close my family had lived to other mafia families, but it made sense, since no normal civilian would want to be near us.

  After a mile or so, I finally neared a row of trees that looked familiar. I cut across the road, running around the outside of the property, getting glimpses of a flat rooftop over a high wall. I went to the back of the property, spotting a gate, one that had been guarded when I’d lived there. I went to open it, expecting it to be locked, but instead it opened without a problem. I poked my head through, seeing an empty backyard. It was nicely landscaped with clothes on the line, which told me it was lived in. Frano had said my family—or parents were now living on a different island, so obviously they’d sold or leased the house.

  I entered the property, closing the gate behind me, not wanting to leave any sign of my presence. I ran across the large backyard, stopping behind the servants’ quarters. I poked my head around the corner, checking for people. But there was no one, the place quiet. I sprinted to the main house and flattened my back against the wall, wondering whether the Donatelli now owned the place, especially since Christo wanted to meet me here. Unless he’d cleared it out of the owners, not something that would surprise me.

  The back door was open. I took a peek inside, seeing an empty old-fashioned kitchen. I entered it quietly, heading for the next door. I pushed it open a fraction and peered inside the lounge. There were people sitting on a couch, watching TV. I could see the back of their heads. Two had auburn hair, like my mother and brother, while the other had a red-brown tone, matching my father’s hair color. I went to move forward, but stopped, noticing rope tied around them.

  Realizing that Christo was already here, I scanned the kitchen for a weapon. My gun had been dropped in the chase, one of the agents having shot it out of my hand. My eyes went to a block of knives. I crept over to it and removed a thin one I could hide behind my wrist. I crept back to the door and peeked into the lounge again. I wanted to go to my family, but wasn’t sure if I should reveal myself yet. The microwave oven told me it was five-twenty-six P.M. I waited, preferring to see if Christo or his goons showed. Six o’clock passed with no sign of the Donatelli. Also, my parents hadn’t moved, not even a twitch. I could see Lucan twitching, but not them. It made me even more nervous, the thought that they were dead finally spurring me into action.