Author's Note

CW: Rape is heavily implied in this scene. Proceed with caution.

Chapter 4: Defiance

I awoke to punching, clanging, groans, and gruff yells – a distorted symphony of violence that crescendoed as sleep departed my eyes. I remained in the same place as last night: tied to a chair, limbs sore and burning fiercely, underneath the hot glare of the lamp. I hated that light; it made as if I were a trophy, one imprisoned atop a victor’s shelf, one that Old Rufus would no doubt glory himself with.

The noise hit a low chord, and with horror I snapped towards its source – a small, lean stallion, chained to a steel pillar, red blotches oozing from every possible square inch of skin. Old Rufus cackled like an imp, thrusting his ironish hoofs into his victim’s face, smashing it left, right, up, and down. Crimson splattered everywhere, the tormented’s visage multiplying in shades of purple and blue.

I couldn't take it. Lurching suddenly, a stream of pungent brown and foul mint spewed out of my mouth, splattering into a grungy puddle in front of me. The torture halted, and with a growl, Old Rufus barked something; he must’ve seen the mess I made.

Good, let him see it. While I reeled with heavy breaths and groans, an underling came and cleared it off in one swipe. And needless to say, he sent me a complimentary death-glare, but I was too dizzy to care.

“Rise and shine, sweetheart,” spat Rufus. I merely grunted, nausea crawling all over my belly.

“Tch, such a rude mare. Didn’t your momma ever teach you manners?”

I made no move to look at him, instead staring at a worn pothole in the cement floor. Damn you, I hurled mentally. I couldn’t give a–

A growl shook the ceiling. Then, heavy hoofsteps – each clanging like iron. Anxiety shot through my nerves. I’d gone too far. A hundred warnings blared inside my mind. But it was too late.

A hoof catapulted across my face, solid iron smashing into my lumpy cheek. I screamed. For the first time, I knew what pain really was. It had scarcely left when he grabbed my head and yanked it upwards.

“See that over there?”

I couldn’t; my vision was marred with hot tears. But I knew he was pointing at that pitiful lump of bruised flesh who was chained up to the pillar.

“That is what happens to those who defy me. Am. I. Clear?”

A whimper escaped my parched, twisted lips. I bowed, disgust welling up like a bitter gall. Defiance was pointless. I was his toy now.

There was no hope for me.

“Now, I believe it’s time to livestream, don’t we?”

It was no question, but an order. Immediately, a hubbub emanated from among his cronies. A tripod was set up, while Old Rufus chatted with a few about what he would say. At some point, they burst into laughter, one that crawled and grated my torrid skin.

“All set up, boss,” cried one.

“Wonderful! Now, my dear” – he trotted over and gently lifted my head to face him – “be ready in five minutes, ya?”

I coughed. “W… W-what do you want… m-me to say?”

He grinned. “Oh, very simple. I’ll be When I turn to you and ask, ‘Isn’t that right, Sabie?’ you, my dear, will tell them just how nice and hospitable I’ve been. I'm sure you can do that, eh?”

Damn right I can.

I nodded very cautiously, trying not to aggravate the stinging pain still swelling on my cheek.

“Excellent! I knew you’d be a good mare.” He chuckled, before adding: “Hank was lucky to have somepony like you.”

I trembled. That hurt. And he knew it.

He flashed a satisfied smirk, and turned towards the camera. I looked down, searching for that errant pothole to stare at – a little nook in which I could process my thoughts and decisions.

Should I obey? No, that wasn’t a good question. Rather, should I rebel?

It’s dangerous. Yes, I knew it was. If ever a contrary word came out of my lips…

The image of that tortured stallion flashed in my eyes. I shuddered. Would Rufus do the same to me, or worse?

He’d begun to speak already, his voice in harsh overtones and sadistic cheekiness. Time was running out. I had to choose, quickly.

Just tell them how nice he is, pleaded a voice. That’s it. You’ll live.

What would Hank do? retorted another.

Forget about Hank, hurled the first voice. He’s dead and gone. But you have a chance to live. Wouldn’t Hank want you to take that chance?

No. Not if it means doing the wrong thing, argued the second.

It’s just a little lie, who cares?

But it will drag you into a world from which you’ll never escape! If you agree to his demands now, what are the chances of him making another on you?

There was no response from the first voice.

But I didn’t need an answer.

I closed my eyes, Hank’s words echoing in my mind:

Stay strong.

“...nd trust me, I’ve been extremely accommodating of my guest here,” returned Rufus’ voice. I suddenly remembered my cue, and I tore open my eyes just in time to see Rufus turning to me.

“Isn’t that right, Sabie?”

The moment of truth had arrived. This was it. I could not back down now.

I sucked in a trembling breath, and exhaled it quickly.

“Damn you, Rufus,” I spat, then to the camera: “Don’t listen to him! Just arrest him and punis– mmff!!”

Chaos erupted. Cries rang all about. A grimy hoof was plunged into my mouth. Another grasped and yanked my mane violently. Another kicked the chair, thrusting me into the concrete ground. Hoofs stomped on every square inch of skin. A club found its mark on my muzzle. Iron and salt flooded my mouth. Shades of crimson tainted my vision.

Amidst the havoc, a rabid chant began to emerge: “Rape her! Rape her! Rape her!”

I shut my eyes. I knew what they were going to do. I was powerless to stop it.

A hoof latched onto my hind limbs and forced them apart. With a tear falling from my bruised eyes, I whispered:

I’m so sorry, Hank…