Lonely (With picture link)

The Lieutenant tripped again, falling forward, unable to protect herself because her wrists were tightly bound behind her back. Tears of frustration and fear ran down her fine boned, aristocratic face, making the ebony skin of her cheeks glisten in the cold light of Tau-Ceti Two. Her breathing rasped past the tightening band around her slender throat as she rolled, got her knees under her, and staggered to her feet, weaving up the steep incline toward the camp.

She had come to, dazed and with sickening pain blurring her vision, not more than an hour before, although it felt like a different lifetime. Her thoughts moved like sluggish fog, unfocussed and random. At first the Lieutenant thought she must be hung over, confused memories of her last shore leave at Mimas base bubbling to the surface. Then images of....of a blue skinned man? An alien? There were no xenomorphs on Mimas.....?

Then all at once, the truth sprang in to focus, leaping out of the dark corners of her subconscious like a grotesque, ambushing her. Dark, cold terror flooded her veins like ice water as she felt the tight binding securing her wrists, and the tightening grip on her throat. She had staggered away up the slope, her **** cries for help transformed in to feeble gasps by the drying leather that was slowly **** the life from her.

Earlier she had heard shouts. Weapons fire. Screams. Had the camp been attacked? How long ago had it been. Minutes? Hours? Decades? Tau-Ceti Two seemed to whirl around the Lieutenant. She felt she could almost hear the faint, cold sound of the planet's laughter.

Pausing, swaying on unsteady legs, her breathing an awful gasping wheeze in her constricted windpipe, the Lieutenant glanced round at the way she had come. The pitiful distance she had covered would have caused her to scream, had she been capable of it. Some steely voiced, disgusted part of herself berated the weakness she was showing, the terror she felt, the hot tears in her stinging eyes. Darknes seemed to crowd in at the edges of her vision like black carrion birds, and her legs folded. She fell back heavilly on her backside. She thought obsucrely that this would have looked comical to any onlooker. The Lieutenant giggled, tears streaming freely now, the leather at her throat a hot band closing like **** itself around her throat.

She was leaning against something.....a fallen tree? No, it was stone...a pillar perhaps, from some ruined alien structure. Each breath was a painful struggle, her breasts rising and falling in ragged, juddering gasps. Hadthe prisoners she had taken such delight in questioning....torturing....felt this terror ? Did this cold, unremarked **** perhaps constitute some form of justice ?

"Help......me..........please........."

((Here is an address for a picture of this thread. As always, you need to login (free) at Raunchminds for the address to work))

http://www.raunchyminds.com/gallery/details.php?image_id=9826&mode=search