One Hope in Hell
Şub 23, 2021 // By:analsex // No Comment
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Laszlo Pulitz had been forced to volunteer for the local army when he was eighteen years and one month old. The war had been dragging on for two years when Laszlo was taken.
“We recruit all who might handle a gun,” the patrol leader had said. “against these Variana pigs, who have murdered, raped, and decimated our southern borders below the mountains.” He had gone on to warn the village people, “You, northern people, should flee west in case we are unable to check their advance.”
No one in Laszlo’s village of Diblana, had fully understood why there was a war. Variana’s border with Laszlo’s homeland Padilla ran a vague line through the high Dansas mountains separating the two countries. Their relationship had always been peaceful. Laszlo’s parents had taken him through the northern pass to village festivals in Variana more than once. It had appeared all so neighbourly, even though the languages differed.
The discovery of oil in the flatlands of Padilla had changed all that. Especially since, coincidentally, the state of Variana had acquired a new leader, whose reputation was dubious, and who had gained power through a military coup. True enough, in no time, he had declared that Variana should have some claim on Padillian oil.
Initial talks between governments, had quickly collapsed, and in August two years earlier a platoon of Variana militia had ravaged a small village near the southern pass between the two countries. Reports were so frightening that the Padilla guard were mobilised and some recruitment took place.
With the Variana assaults at the south pass, and violent incursions starting at the central pass, the stories drifting north were horrific. Listening to adults discussing the situation he had heard his mother nervously saying, “They took over one hundred villagers, nearly all the men, into a field and machine gunned them, and many of the younger women were—” Her eyes had glanced nervously in Laszlo’s direction before she added, “—hurt.”
So when he was bundled roughly onto that military truck, with two lads, Daliz and Balin, who were also eighteen, Laszlo barely had time to wave farewell to his mother and father, before the bend in the road blotted out his past life.
Laszlo had no wish to be a soldier. He was a gentle soul, often the butt of the other boys, since he claimed to like the natural things of life. So often, his father had taken him high into the mountains, and shown him plants that could be eaten. Sometimes they took some home for his mother to prove how nutritious they were.
On that long truck ride he had time to regret that he had not had the chance to say farewell to his girl friend, Nadia. She was two months older than Laszlo, and they had been getting closer and closer. Laszlo had kissed her fourteen times. He kept a score of things like that, and he would miss those kisses.
For the next ten weeks Laszlo found himself in the squalid, harsh conditions of a so-called training camp. Knowing how to shoot was a first priority, and that had been fine for Laszlo. His father had often had him shooting in the mountains. If they killed an animal, it was only for food, and his father had taught him to maintain that respect for wild life. He still recalled killing his first deer. “A brilliant shot,” his father had declared, slapping his shoulder. But seeing the wide, empty eyes of the beautiful animal had made Laszlo weep silently.
So shooting had no problems for him, even the tough sergeant praised his ability. However, the more physical, hand to hand and self defence elements had Laszlo wishing he was dead, a feeling he would have many times in the ensuing months. Frequent failures at overcoming an opponent had the combat sergeant laying his thick cane across Laszlo’s back on several occasions.
But, gradually, the severe training strengthened his body, and before the end, he was able to hold his own against bigger opponents. Always fast, he was able to outrun most of the other recruits, both over short distances, and in mile length runs. His main worry was about what lay ahead.
During the last two weeks of training, some of the battle experienced sergeants, who had fought against the Varians, warned them to harden their hearts against the sights they were going to encounter.
In those final days of training, Laszlo began hearing the word ‘rape’ more and more. Other recruits had heard tales, which, because they were second hand, Laszlo doubted. Tales of women prisoners taken by three men at a time, and then shot. Hard to believe, Laszlo thought. Women had to be respected his mother had always taught him.
At the end of their ten weeks they were warned that the Variana army had become an undisciplined selection of separate rampaging groups, even more deadly than the organised army.
With the other two from his village, Laszlo was allocated to a platoon in the central region. This platoon was settled in a half demolished country house, which maintained sufficient room space, to have a sleeping quarters for about casino şirketleri forty men, storage space for weapons and food, and two or three rooms for admin staff. At either end of the crumbling building were, what appeared to have been circular towers that had been severely damaged and were roofless.
On arrival, they were taken to the admin area to meet the Commander, a tall, thin, white haired man, with cold empty eyes, who looked as sinister as his voice as he outlined what was expected of them.
“Above all else you need to be able to fight, to protect our land, and to pay those bastards like for like. You must also be unquestioning in obeying any order. Infringe that and—” He stopped, fumbled at his waist and came up with a large service revolver , which he pointed above their heads, and pulled the trigger.
The bang and the crash of a bullet hitting something behind them had all three recruits cringing. Laszlo was only just able to prevent his bowels from evacuating. The Commander giggled like some little girl, “Yes,” he affirmed, “it will be as quick as that.”
The cold eyes went along their line, stopping at Laszlo. “Do I make myself clear, boy?”
“Y-Yes,” Laszlo stammered.
The Commander leapt to his feet, an angry expression on his face, “Yes, what?”
“Don’t you forget it.” He glanced down at notes in front of him, before scanning the three of them, “Eighteen year olds rarely last long in this outfit.” The grin that came with that was not pleasant. “So there’s a challenge for you all to start with.”
“Now,” the Commander continued, pointing to Daliz, and his grin now was more lascivious, “how many females have you fucked?”
A moment’s hesitation and then, “Two.”
When he pointed at Balin the answer was, “One.”
Laszlo’s turn and he could only admit, “None.”
The Commander said, “Interesting. If you live long enough, your cocks will grow massive with all the activity they’ll get. We’re fighting a dirty war and there’s no room for mercy.” He gave off a mighty guffaw, as he added, “As long as you’re not looking for love.”
Leaving the Commander, they were taken to the sleeping quarters, a corridor of beds, and Laszlo was given a bed that had, the soldier on his right said, “–belonged to Krovas, poor bastard had his guts blown out yesterday.”
A big mountain of a man, shirts sleeves rolled up tight around huge tattooed arm muscles ambled over to Laszlo’s bed, and stood leering down at him, “Think you could beat me in a fair fight?”
Laszlo looked up at the square face, and, being honest, said, “I don’t think I could beat you in any kind of fight.”
This seemed to delight the big man, who laughed and said, “Well, we agree on that one. What about shooting?”
Laszlo knew he had some shooting ability, “Maybe.”
“You think you’re a better shot than me?” The tone was not hostile, more one of surprise.
“It’s possible,” Laszlo said cautiously.
The big man sauntered away, stopped, turned, and said, “We’ll get a chance to see about that. What’s your name?”
Laszlo told him.
“Call me Kanin.”
“But say it with respect,” someone called from down the room, and there was general laughter. Yet Laszlo was relieved that the hefty Kanin had not been as threatening to him as he had first feared.
The first day of horror for Laszlo came early. With a small party of six from the platoon, which included Kanin, they were to reconnoitre the current position of the enemy. This meant staying among the pines above the twisting road of the central valley that would eventually lead into Variana.
Kanin pointed ahead as they came to a bend, and Laszlo saw a cluster of stone houses. “Our last home village before —” he stopped, as the corporal in charge let out a curse.
As they moved closer Laszlo saw about twenty men, in camouflage uniforms, spaced around the village square. They were surrounding an obviously frightened group of villagers, most of them elderly.
“I thought the village had been evacuated,” Kanin whispered.
“So did I,” the corporal said, ” the old folk have been there most of their lives. Couldn’t tear themselves away, I suppose.”
Some of the Varians were yelling at the elderly group. They waved their guns, and slowly the old folk moved into a line, obviously not understanding.
Without any warning, the Varians raised their weapons, rapid gunfire burst out, and unbelieving, Laszlo watched the old people, spurting blood from multiple wounds, pitch forward in the dust. Tears were instant on his cheeks, his whole body shook at the sight of the massacre. Nearby, he saw Kanin raise his own gun, and heard his, “Bastards.”
The corporal hissed ,” No, Kanin. There are too many.”
Just as the gunfire died away there was a high pitched scream, and a youngish woman, mid twenties maybe, rushed out of one of the houses, saw the bodies, and wailing fearfully ran to the body of an old lady. Some of the soldiers gave lustful whoops, casino firmaları as the young woman was grabbed by at least three soldiers, and her clothes were immediately stripped from her body.
Naked, she was flung on her back over the bonnet of a small military vehicle. Laszlo had never seen a totally naked woman. Now he saw full breasts and a patch of dark hair. His blood already chilled, that coldness moved over his skin as grasping hands clawed at the woman’s breasts, and four men unzipped their pants to reveal their erections.
Laughing, and waving his erect penis in the woman’s face, one soldier then positioned himself between her thighs, while others held her there, while fingering her body. Her harrowing screams horrified Laszlo, as the penis disappeared between the woman’s thighs..
“Out of here,” the corporal whispered. “Our duty is to report back.”
The men and Laszlo began to follow him. Laszlo saw Kanin didn’t follow as they moved away. The woman’s screams became ever more agonised. Kanin had raised his gun, but Laszlo lost sight of him as undergrowth closed behind them.
There was a single gunshot. An angry roar came from below, and Laszlo was relieved when the big man came thundering after them.
“What happened?” the corporal demanded angrily.”I’ll have you—”
“Hush! They’re still puzzling which direction the shot came from, ” Kanin snorted and gave Laszlo a reassuring nod. “They had other things on their empty minds.”.
Breathless, shocked, tears still dampening his cheeks, Laszlo asked, “Which one did you shoot?”
As they moved through the trees, Kanin said, “You don’t hear any screams, do you?”
Laszlo was slow to come to terms with what Kanin was saying, and when he realised, he looked aghast at the big man.
Kanin shrugged, “It’s a bloody war, lad. Doing the merciful thing is sometimes the hardest task of all. Get used to it. You’re due to see much worse.”
Laszlo slept badly that night. Bleeding bodies filled his vision, juxtaposed with a naked lady with a black triangle that soldiers were digging at with their fingers. A single ghostly gunshot woke him up, but that had been in his dreams too.
Over the following months, Kanin’s warning proved to be so accurate, and Laszlo was to learn that cruelty wasn’t all one-sided. Kanin had become a sort of mentor, and told him how their army had changed, “We’re copying the Varian’s, taking on ex-cons, murderers, rapists. Sometime you’ll see our lot behaving as badly as what you’ve seen so far.”
Every day that passed, Laszlo was subjected to greater terrors. One day, while out with a larger patrol they entered a village where several naked female bodies lay spread on the ground. Laszlo could tell that they were some years older than him. But that didn’t make the sight any easier. Each of them looked as though they had succumbed to the weight of many men, and the pools of blood between their legs was testament to that. But in that same village, a man lay strapped to a table.
A corporal went across, and quickly turned away, “Oh, great Lord, it’s Landi. You should see— Fucking amazons.”
Kanin leaned towards a shaking Laszlo, “Landi went missing yesterday. They thought he had deserted.”
From where Laszlo stood he could see that the corpse only had a bloody patch where his genitals should be.
“Those bitches,” snarled one soldier, as he turned away from the sight, a hard man, but even his face was ashen, as he went on, “there’s pieces of his cock all around him. His balls are in his mouth. And –and a broom shank is sticking out from his ass.”
“Who are amazons?” Laszlo asked Kanin.
Kanin’s glance was sympathetic, but his words were frightening, “Varian’s employ big tough female torturers. Evil women. Tease a guy until he gets a hard-on, then jam a hornet’s nest on it, and hold it there.”
Laszlo turned away, but there was nowhere to look that didn’t cry out pain and death. A further two miles through the valley and at another small village, almost totally demolished, they encountered only token resistance, and soon individual Varian soldiers were retreating from the few standing houses. They were firing wild sporadic bursts as they ran away, and one Padillan clutched at his throat, with a hand that was already spouting red through his fingers.
Crouched behind a tree with gun already pointed, Laszlo jumped when a voice behind him said, “Think you can get that one before me?” It was Kanin, and he was indicating a fleeing figure moving into a gap between two houses. Raising his gun, Kanin fired, and a spurt of stone burst from the corner of the house.
Daring to make a slightly mocking, tutting noise, Laszlo sighted along the barrel of his gun and pulled the trigger. The running man threw up his hands, and collapsed, face forward into the dirt and lay still.
Kanin’s massive hand slapped Laszlo’s shoulder, “Well done, so you are good at something.” And his grin was genuinely admiring. Laszlo felt better than he had güvenilir casino for some time, and for a moment he thought of his father and the wild deer. But killing a man had had less effect on him than killing that deer.
All shooting done, they approached cautiously, but it looked like the enemy had gone. The remaining houses were checked, two to each house. A triumphant howl went up from one of the houses, and the two soldiers came out, dragging a struggling large woman. Laszlo was struck by her size and her hard, hard face.
Other men raced to aid their comrades, and the woman was quickly stripped naked. Laszlo gazed in amazement at her massive breasts, and muscular thighs, with the black triangle below a bulging stomach, and she called out something in Varian language.
One soldier translated, “She’s not afraid of a hundred of our puny pricks.”
The one first discovered Landi’s body growled, “I’ll not waste any fucking energy on this bitch. Get her on that wall.”
The woman was forced to lie on her back along a broken section of wall, her arms and legs spread on either side. She screamed something else at them, and the man who had interpreted the last time, said, “She’s not frightened of us.”
There was general laughter, and Laszlo just knew he was about to see his comrades commit an atrocity as the corporal stepped up close to the huge spread thighs, took his rifle from his shoulder, placed the muzzle between those thighs, and pushed hard.
The woman, jerked as the barrel went on up into her, and she tried not to show anything but was soon grunting with the pain of it.
“Surgery,” the corporal commanded, still pressing the gun into her. Two men came at her from either side, bayonets in their hands. They each placed the blade of the bayonet against the underside of each breast.
Realising exactly what the word ‘surgery’ had meant, Laszlo had to turn away. He could not watch butchery, but he could not shut out the wild screaming of the woman. There was also the sound of clapping hands as other soldiers applauded.
Laszlo had reached the edge of the village when he heard the corporal yell above the applause, “Ask if she’s ever been raped by a bullet.” That was followed by one gun shot, and a cheer from some of the men.
. Laszlo could admit that vengeance was almost understandable, but wouldn’t just shooting the woman have been enough?
There was, for Laszlo, a distorted sense of satisfaction that he was still alive. Balin, from his village, had been killed on only their third day of combat. Then, out on a patrol, and crossing a patch of open ground rather warily, with Daliz, the other villager, on his right, there came a burst of heavy fire from the trees on their right.
Laszlo had dived to the ground, and sensed Daliz flopping down close by. Immediately Laszlo became aware of warm wetness on his face, and on his hand. As some of the men returned fire, Laszlo looked up and saw the vivid red on his hand, guessed the same red was wetting his face. Had he been hit? There was no pain.
Slowly raising his head he saw that Daliz was keeping his head down. The other men had started moving forward, all guns pointed to where the firing had come from.
“We’re on the move, Daliz,” he said quietly, getting to his feet.
Looking down at his companion, Laszlo froze with shock and repugnance at the sight of the rivers of blood that stemmed from under Daliz, and washed towards him. Without thinking, Laszlo bent to roll him over, and a scream stuck in his throat. Daliz had no chest, and broken ends of ribs jutted up like white rocks in a red sea. Yet his face although spattered with red, looked strangely calm.
Laszlo turned away retching whatever had been in his stomach into the torn earth. Then Kanin was beside him, “Nothing you can do. Come on, move. You’ll get used to it. It’s the bloody war.”
Laszlo knew he would never get used to it. That could well have been him. He tried to take on board Kanin’s continued support and comforting presence. But he was seeing increasing numbers of incidents which illustrated just how callous his own so called colleagues could be..
A typical example came one evening, when he was sitting on Kanin’s bed, telling him about his father’s influence on his shooting, and about the time he had killed his first deer. There was one small patrol out, but there were about twenty or so men in the quarters.
Suddenly, the door burst open, and a head popped around the edge. “Oh,oh, one of the Commanders fetchers.” Kanin murmured.
“Ready for a good night, gentlemen?” the fetcher called, and others in the room obviously knew what was coming, because they nearly all stood up yelling with strange enthusiasm.
“I don’t know if you should see this,” Kanin’s voice whispered in Laszlo’s ear.
“What is—” Before he could complete the question, and as the men began to gather, bright eyed and expectant, the door opened wide and a young woman, maybe thirty years old, was dragged in between the two fetchers. They instantly released her and pushed her into the centre of the room.
A worried trembling started up in Laszlo’s stomach, as the crowd of men began circling the woman, gazing at her with hungry eyes, like a tiger would eye a tethered goat.
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