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[Fiction] Ptesan Wi- A New Role (Ugly Mature Theme)


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It hit her like a sledgehammer.


In her mind.

She went sprawling, dropping her walking stick. The sound of birds was gone. The smell of the soil she had on her hands from digging for roots was gone. The warm sun on her skin was gone.

All she could taste was blood. All she could feel was pain. A sharp stabbing pain, low. Over and over. She couldn’t see anything. Her eyes hurt, she couldn’t open them. And all she could here was the brutal panting of some beast, looming over her.

“You fucking like that? Don’t you Squaw. Fucking timber-nigger. Bitch. Whore.”

It went on. A streaming rant of obscenity. Beer soaked breath pouring into her nostrils.


And then it was gone. She was down upon her knees, fists clenched so hard her nails had drawn blood. Her scream of rage and pain dying in her raw and torn throat.

Oh sweet spirits, what was that?

But she knew. The short touch had told her enough.

Her name was Rebecca Whitetail. She was of the People but not in her heart. She liked to play with the Wasicu. But still, a good girl. Trying hard in school and keeping away from the poisons of the world.

Ptesan-Wi started running. She reached out to Rebecca again. She couldn’t let her be alone. Not now.

I’m coming my child. It will be over soon.

But it wasn’t enough. Rebecca’s mind was breaking down. She was being attacked, violated, deeply and violently. She couldn’t handle it. She retreated from what was happening, hiding away, trying to find a safe place from the insanity she was undergoing.

Tree limbs smacked across her face as she ran but Ptesan-Wi paid them no mind. One goal was before her. To protect one of her people. As her link showed her more and more what was happening and the origin of the event she began to think of something else.




She burst into the clearing breathing hard, tears stinging her eyes. Though she was seeing it for the first time there was a sick sort of déjà vu about it. The slick red truck. The clean cut townie, his fine features twisted in an animal savagery. And Rebecca. Crying, sobbing, bleeding.

For a fleeting moment she considered reaching out and seizing his mind, making him stop. But no, that wouldn’t be enough.

Her mind flowered open with sparkling power. Pure rage-tainted thought lanced forward and caught him in the side. He flew, like a rag-doll and crumpled against a tree. The crack of bone sounded out. He dropped to the ground, screaming.

Ptesan-Wi did not stop.

She didn’t stop when he begged for mercy. She didn’t stop when he could only gurgle out his feeble protests. Her mind pounded him with an unrelenting fury, reducing him to a sick red smear on the landscape.

Rebecca’s whimpering brought her back to her mind.

**Shhhhhhhh, little-one. It will be all right.**

And it would be.

Being the White Buffalo Calf Woman wasn’t enough anymore. The people needed more. Wakinyan was gone. They still needed a protector. One who would show the Wasicu that the time of their freedom to rape and drug and victimize the People was over.


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