Aberrant: StarGate Atlantis - [SFP #1] Eternity in a Moment [Mature/Disturbing]

[Teagan Shae Ammer]

[ooc: This story contains references and depictions of torture, violence, and sadism, some of a sexual nature. If this bothers you or you are not legally allowed to view such material, please exit the thread now.]

Rough hands pulled her upright; she came to as he dragged a dress over her head, careless of the scratches and welts that peppered her body like tribal tattoos. She'd fallen asleep again or at least passed out, and again she hated herself for it. The Keeper and those that kept watch with her did not sleep, and lowly creature that she was she shirked her duty the Keeper when she did. It was another proof of how far below them she was and how unworthy she was of the attention the Keeper gave her.

She had been given to the one that was dressing her now a few weeks ago, as if the Keeper wished to prove that point again. In that time he’d broken her collarbone and wrist, cracked several ribs, and given her a concussion on three different occasions; he’d learned restraint over the years. That she was being dressed, being allowed clothes at all, meant that the Keeper had called for her. Most likely she’d be given another today; all she really cared was that it meant he’d have to heal her, to give her the Gift of Life or risk the Keeper’s anger for returning her Regina in such a damaged state.

She was pulled along the hallway by her broken wrist, his grip tightening with each step they took that she kept silent. It was their game: if she made a noise too soon, he’d beat her and break another bone, then rape her; if she held out long enough then he’d beat her, feed from her, rape her, and then give her the Gift. He wouldn’t have the time to beat her or rape her, not with the Keeper waiting, but he had to give her the Gift. He had to.

They were halfway there when he snarled in impatience, wrenching her arm and dislocating her shoulder; she cried out as new pain lanced through the old pains from the past few weeks and the unknown number of years before. He crushed her against him, tight enough to make it hard for her to breathe, but when he stroked the bare skin of her back just above of the scooped line of her dress it was with jarring gentleness. She arched against his touch, needing what he could give her. The Gift and the Keeper’s approval was all she could let herself live for anymore.

He held on to her, caressing her back and refusing her the release from the pain he’d caused. He leaned down, his breath hot against her ear, “She’ll give you back to me, little Regina. She always does.”

He let go of her then, taking her by the other arm and steering her towards the Keeper’s hall again. She croaked out a cry of desperation, pulling herself up to him and begging with quiet whimpers as they walked. If he noticed, he chose not to care.

The door to the Keeper’s hall had it’s usual two guards, masked warriors of the lower class of Wraith males, but also another Wraith she knew, one that was sometimes called Ghost for his unusually high telepathic ability for a male Wraith and his fondness for hiding his presence from the others of the hive as he went about the ship, was waiting with them. He looked her over, taking in the unnatural angles of the cloth over broken bones and twisted flesh.

He gave his hivemate a quizzical and dangerous smile, lacing his hands behind his back as he paced around the two. “Are you planning on presenting her to the Keeper like that? Tell me, when exactly did you become suicidal? You do remember what she said the last time you nearly killed her pet, yes?”

The one that had her arm gripped it tight enough to make the bones grind; she pressed her lips together, fighting down the pain that would make her pass out if kept up much longer. “She’s fine. She still standing and breathing.”

“Ah, yes. Well, certainly an improvement over last time." Very quietly to herself, she admitted that she liked Ghost better than most of the others. He was cruel, but it was always so much more civilized, so controlled. He let her keep clothes while she was with him, and not just ones he found enticing on her. He’d even given her a hair pin once, though the Keeper had taken it from her and they’d both been punished. She was mostly certain he’d only done it to make the Keeper jealous, but it had been a small spot of kindness in the twilight of pain and humiliation that she listlessly endured in. He seemed fascinated by her, and not like one of the others that was still trying to convince the Keeper to let him vivisect her.

She hadn’t seen that one in a long time, but she remembered him. He was the only person she remembered touching her that hadn’t wanted to hurt her in some way. Only kill dispassionately, and then study what remained. He'd even offered to give her anesthesia if she'd agree to ask the Keeper herself. She shivered at the fractured memory and her tormentor relented his grip just enough to keep her conscious. Ghost was still talking, “However, I doubt she’ll look very kindly on her Regina being returned in such a state. Are you suddenly too weak to bestow the Gift on such a devoted follower?”

Ghost ran a hand through her hair, her honey-blond locks a stark contrast to the blue of his skin; she held her breath at the touch, her heart beating faster in anticipation of violence, either towards her or between the two snipping males. The one holding her arm growled low, “Perhaps if we were allowed to feed more often, then you would not have to ask such a question!”

The fingers left her hair and Ghost bowed with mock respect to her tormentor, “Your wish is often ignored by the Keeper, but in this you both happen to agree. We have just collected the tithe from Colliana and she is inspecting the youths for their fitness to serve.”

“And if she decides that she’d rather have another crop of simpering humans attending her than to feed her warriors?”

“Our next destination shall be the homeworld of the Athosians. She’s always had a particular fondness for their…spirit.” Ghost stepped between them, gracefully detaching the other Wraith’s arm from hers, “I”ll tend to this one’s needs, brother, as you no doubt need to rest to prepare for a culling. After all, as you’ve so eloquently pointed out, the Keeper’s warriors must be fed.”

Her tormentor simmered, rage and violence held only barely in check as his favorite means of release other than feeding was taken from him again, and no less by a Wraith smug enough to be called the ‘little queen’ by his more foolish detractors. Those were the ones that always seemed to find themselves on the most dangerous duties or sent to patrol vast stretches of empty space for years on end. He knew better than to provoke the Ghost, however; Ghost had earned his place at the Keeper’s side with cunning and ruthlessness enough to please a full queen. So instead the other Wraith merely stalked away. Some poor human in the hive, most likely the next he came across, would bear the fatal brunt of his anger. For herself, she tried to stay upright, but the pain and blood loss and disappointment of having been denied the Gift was becoming too much. She stumbled against Ghost, who caught her in inhumanly strong arms before she crumpled to the floor.

“There now, he was quite rough with you, wasn’t he?” The Wraith sighed and leaned her against him, his hand pressed against the bare skin of her back. “We’ll have you better in just a moment. And why is that, little one?”

She gasped as she felt the warmth and life of the Gift flow into her from where he was touching her, her voice a low moan as she repeated what she’d been told for a long as her broken mind remembered: “Because the Keeper loves me.”