Excerpt: Brutality

Arisa sighed deeply and tilted her head back, letting the cool water run down her forehead, across her face and dribble down her neck. She reached up with both hands and wiped the remaining droplets out of her eyes before she opened them. She wrinkled her nose at the foul smell of the liquid and coughed. The water was stale and gross; not fit to bathe pigs, much less a human.
The man who stood above her hooked his thumbs in his belt loops and set the bucket he was holding on the ground. "There; that'll do you til next week. Next!" He snapped.
Arisa growled inwardly and took the towel that was thrown at her and wrapped it around herself. She shivered as she stepped out of the grimy tub and off into the dressing room. There were about ten other young women in there, drying themselves off and grabbing whatever they could fit into from a pile of worn clothing. The clothes were the only things to wear that they would be receiving for the next month.
Arisa rubbed her body dry as fast as she could, then jumped over to the pile of clothes and began picking through, them. It didn't take long for her to pick out a pair of patched jeans and a dark green shirt that was mostly whole. She grabbed some underwear from another pile and got dressed, then walked out of the door at the end of the room into the glow of artificial sunlight.
The street she stood on was bustling with activity. Men and women of all ages, shapes and sizes were going about their jobs, all in the same, dirty-looking style of clothes. There were many injured who had arms, hands or legs wrapped up in bandages, casts or splints.
A few of the more healthy, bright-eyed young men looked over at Arisa as she emerged from the women's building. They grinned, nudging each other as they stared at her.
The girl glared at their lewd faces and flipped her short black hair over her shoulder. She crossed her arms and stubbornly walked across the street towards one of the many other dreary gray buildings in the area. She needed to report to her employer; and she was already nearly late. And her boss hated late people.
As she walked up the stairs, she felt the wood of the steps go slick under her bare feet. she yelped loudly as she fell, bouncing on her head, then her back, then her shoulder, then her head again. She moaned as she sprawled out on the floor of the foyer in pain. She looked up at the ceiling dazedly, the single bare bulb appearing to be five in number. "Never saw that one coming..." she mumbled.
As she laid there, one of the boys who had been looking at her came in through the door, and she looked up at him with wide eyes. She scrambled to her feet, rather dizzily, and dusted herself off. Then she cleared her throat and looked down at her feet. She had noticed that this guy had on a rank stripe and a tan vest, This was someone important; or at least, more important then she was.
"Is the floor nice and comfortable?" he asked with a soft chuckle, his black hair falling gracefully between his eyes.
"Yes sir," Arisa said, then she stuttered, "I-I mean, no sir. I mean...well, you see, I fell down the stairs--"
The man held up a hand. "Don't worry about it, Arisa." He smiled, slightly. "I'm not one of those officers who require a decent explanation for everything. In fact, I like to jest."
How did he know my name? Arisa thought, wide-eyed. She considered asking him, but decided against it. "Yes sir," she said, quietly.
"So, where were you going?" he asked her, cocking his head.
Arisa's eyes widened. "Oh no! I'm late!" Fear clawed at her throat, though she tried to stay it. She could talk her way out of it, nothing bad would happen. Oh, who was she kidding!? She could get beaten for this! She made a quick bow to the officer and started to run up the stairs again.
"Hey," he said, and grabbed her arm with gentle but firm fingers. "Let me escort you. You won't get in any trouble; it's my fault for detaining you."
The girl looked at him and blinked, then looked down at his hand gripping her bicep. Then she tentatively let her eyes roam to his handsome, tan features. "All right," she said, but kept her voice respectful and business-like. "But my boss is a hard man to convince. He hands out beatings like no other."
The officer chuckled again. This small laugh was low and smooth; as if he might have practiced and perfected it just to send shivers down any young woman's spine. "I think he'll listen to me," he murmured. "And you don't need to call me sir; call me Lias."
"Yes sir--" she said, then stopped herself. "Um, I mean, yes Lias."
He smiled at her and looped his arm through hers, helping her up the stairs. "We don't want you falling down again, now do we?"
Arisa's cheeks heated up, and she jerked her arm away from him. "I don't need any--" But as she spoke, she yelped. Her bare foot began to slip again. But this time, a strong arm looped around her waist and held tight.
She gasped and looked up to see Lias's face looking down at her, an amused sparkle in his eyes. "Hm. I think I'll stick to holding you by the arm. We'll get there faster, and it will be safer for you." He gently pulled her up into a standing position, and she ended up very close to his body. She looked up at him with wide eyes, and then he kept his arm around her back and led her up the stairs.
As they went along, she felt little tingly sensations going up and down her spine. She was not used to this kind of feeling going through her body; what was he doing to her? She didn't know; and she wasn't sure if she wanted to find out. But if he could keep her from getting beaten, she would do just about anything for him right now.
They reached the top of the stairs, and a small elevator presided at the end of the hallway. They walked to it, stepped inside and pushed the button for the fifth, top, floor. As the cube began to move, Lias looked down at Arisa and smirked gently at her. "So, you work for Drogas?"
"Yes," she replied, looking back up at him, then averting her gaze. He was still holding her close against his body. "He's an...interesting, employer."
"Master is more like it," Lias snorted, "You're a slave girl; you don't get paid, That's not an employee." He sighed and shook his head. "I hate slavery...I hate this whole place for what they do." Then he looked at her again; and his face softened a little, as if speaking to a young child. "But I'm caught up in it just like you; I'm just as much a slave as you are; even though I do get paid."
Arisa nodded. She knew what the officers went through; she had known one, once; but those were all such painful memories. They went through grueling boot camps and vigorous training to become worthy of being paid for their work; and then they were given what was called a 'silence tattoo'. Once placed upon the front of the neck of any human, it fiercely controlled the vocal cords. If that man or woman was told not to say something, then they physically COULD NOT say it. Arisa could see Lias's silence tattoo because his collar was open, the first three buttons undone.
They reached the top floor, and Lias helped her out of the elevator, then pressed her against him again as they walked down the hallway towards Drogas's office. "Now," Lias murmured to her, "Let me do all the talking. Don't open your mouth to speak even one word. Do you understand?"
"Yes," the girl whispered to him as they reached the office and he pushed it open.
The room was hazed in smoke from the cigar of the devilishly handsome yet completely disgusting man sitting in a plush chair behind a desk. Two bodyguards stood on either side of him; though he looked like he could handle himself fine. He was looking at the two of them with a piercing glare. "Arisa," he said, in a silky, deep voice, "You're late. You know how I feel about tardy people."
Arisa wanted to make excuses, but Lias had said not to talk, so she didn't.
"Did you hear me?' Drogas asked, his voice getting angry.
Lias walked forward, pulling Arisa with him, still embracing her. He flashed his rank stripe to Drogas, who frowned.
The man eyed the two of them rather warily. "You gonna take my best girl away from me, officer?" He asked, roughly.
"Maybe," Lias said. "But I came up here to tell you that it's my fault she was late; I detained her." Then Lias let go of Arisa and leaned on Drogas's desk, staring into his face. "And if I find a single scratch on her when I come to see her again, you'll pay for it. You understand that don't you?"
Drogas nodded. "Sure," he said, slightly shaken by the look in Lias's eyes. He tried to keep his cool as he spoke. "Sure, no problem. She'll be fine; she's a good girl."
Lias nodded. "Good." Then he reached in his pocket and pulled out a letter. "And I was told to deliver this letter to you; it's from Iyu."
Drogas nodded. "Thanks. Now, if you've nothing else to say, would you mind leaving?"
"Not at all," Lias said. He walked towards the door, then stopped beside Arisa to put his hand on her shoulder. "I'll be seeing you, Arisa."
Arisa just nodded, staring up at him.
As Lias took his leave, Drogas's eyes turned steely. "Hmph. Making connections with the officers, my sweet? That's a naughty thing to do."