In the Arms of Oppression - Episode 1: Crisis

My slumber rudely disrupted, my cell phone rings more than within earshot. I feel for the phone's general location, blindly answer it and put it on speaker. God, I just want to get this fucker off my back - I haven't slept for days.

"Hello...?" I say weakly, unmoving from atop my bed.

"Daniel!" exclaims a slightly distorted, yet familiar Russian voice. "You'll never believe what I just found!"

"Artyom," I groan, "what the Hell?"

"I'm parked outside your door. C'mon, Daniel!"

"I'm going, goddamnit!" I rise to a sitting position and open my eyes, then they drift to the iPhone 4S resting atop an oak nightstand. next to a tattered mattress. "I need a second, alright?"

"Don't take too long," he replies before ending the call, triggering a luminosity from my iPhone screen. Shining too brightly for comfort, I half-close my eyes and shield the light with a hand. I push the power button with the same hand, shutting off the screen. I then pick up the iPhone and drop it inside a pocket within my dark brown trench coat, temporarily revealing a wrinkled, tarnished, white V-neck and denim jeans of similar condition, the latter of which covers the back portion of my steel-toe boots Artyom swiped from a construction worker he killed.

I rise from the bed. Due to the rapid change of posture, I wobble a slight bit. I then make my way to the door of the small room bathed in the blueish moonlight glow. I stop at the door and look about. I was on the lookout for something, something I felt was essential. My eyes skimmed over a handgun on the nightstand, only to snap right back on them.

Almost forgot my gun again.

I walk hurriedly to retrieve the gun. My suppressed Glock 19. Fully loaded, last I recall. I eject the magazine and count how many bullets remain through the holes in the back.

Fourteen bullets remaining. Doesn't help that this is my only magazine with any ammo - my other three are dry. I'm gonna need more ammo very soon.

I put it in a holster concealed by my trench coat. Then I finally make my way through the door, make a sharp right in the hallway, and through the door before me.

Past the front door, I'm greeted with a wonderfully dark and silent urban landscape, disrupted by an active van infront of me with two cones of light emitting from the front, piercing the darkness. The driver, no doubt Artyom himself, turns to me and waves me over. I swiftly comply, running around the front and jumping into the passenger seat.

"What is it, Artyom? What'd you find?"

Donning a similar set of clothing as me, he practically bounces in his seat. "It's a surprise. You just wait, though! This will be life-changing!" He throws the van into Drive and GASP! He drives.

On the wrong side of the road, might I add. He doesn't seem to care, for there are no cars out at this hour, but I care about not being pulled over by authorities who just might pass by. Luckily, he soon passes onto the right lane of a two-way street.

Still sleepy from the sudden awakening, I decide to rest my head against the seat and close my eyes.

The van stops, pulling my head forward and simultaneously waking me up from a peaceful slumber. Again. I rub my eyes and yawn as I look about, swiftly noticing we're in an alleyway. Seemingly still eager about his discovery, Artyom jumps out of the van and runs leftward. I do the same, except I run rightward.

He unravels his own gun - an FMG-9, most definitely loaded aswell - turns on the tactical light and puts a hand on the handle of the van's back doors. "Are you ready?"

I nod. He then opens the doors and aims inside. It puzzles me why would he be so excited about a discovery, only to risk shooting it. Nonetheless, I step back, draw my Glock 19, and aim before he opens the other door.

Once he does, his tactical light shines upon a purple unicorn tightly bound, blindfolded, gagged, magically suppressed, and trembling in absolute fear. I immediately recognise her as Twilight Sparkle, from the one show called My Little Pony Generation Four: Friendship is Magic. I almost couldn't believe it. Twilight Sparkle herself, in the flesh. Just seeing her once again gives me flashbacks of when I used to sit down, relax, and watch that show. God, I miss those days.

Artyom holds his FMG-9 infront of me, knocking me out of my trance. "Hold this for a sec."

Reluctant, I take the FMG-9 with my left hand and aim it at Twilight. He then grabs Twilight by the torso with both hands, forcing a muffled squeal out of her.

"Look at her. I found her on the street not too long ago. I really got the jump on her!" He cackles at his feat.

I lean in closer to get a good look at her. She continues to tremble, and it seems that tears have mottled her blindfold and slipped down her cheeks. "What're we gonna do with her?"

"We're going to rape her."

Though suppressed and unintelligible, Twilight nonetheless makes it clear that she's against this - as if it wasn't clear enough in the first place - with a scream and resumes sobbing. I look up at Artyom, shocked, amongst other things. "What!?"

"That's right." He closes both doors, puts her down, and crouches behind her. "Now, I need you to look out for any passersby." He unzips his pants, unraveling his raging, 5-inch erection. "We can't have witnesses."

Bewildered by his intended course of action, I stand there. Unresponsive. Unmoving. Time seems to have done the same.

It's true, this is the opportunity of a lifetime... but is it right to take it up?

Defend.

Shoot.

Protest.