Welcome to chapter twentieth of an ongoing gritty noir series from ‘Sin Street’ created in partnership between Kate Granger and Sissitrix.
Follow a woman’s desperate tale of humiliation starting in a pit of despair before her rebirth, revenge, and resurgence. This series began in a dark place because it must.
Previous Chapters:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19
The move to our underground lair transitioned seamlessly. Trucks left the mansion and Sissitrix’s temporary warehouse every hour through the night. Our drivers killed their headlights long before arriving at Jupiter Mall, and disruption in the area was kept to a minimum.
Rex stuck close by in the armory, observing, marshaling deliveries to their proper locations, and generally taking charge of logistics. Sissitrix set about reviving our army, one soldier at a time.
When the massive steel doors closed with an ominous, deep boom, I felt safe but imprisoned. The lights in our massive armory mimicked daylight, and a hive of activity with people bustling here and there, determined with their tasks, lifted me.
I joined Sissitrix, who stood with a laptop connected to a pod junction that, in turn, fed wiring looms into a set of six pods.
“They’ve been comatose for a long time. Erin.”
“The gel they are resting in differs from the one you used on me and in Allen. It looks thicker, almost solid.”
“It prevents muscle atrophy by applying constant pressure throughout the body, squeezing and releasing, then massaging.”
“What do they think about while sleeping?”
“They learn tactics and rules of engagement, review weapons handbooks, and take any instruction you’d like to give them.”
“Can you still program overriding directives into them, Sissitrix?”
“Yes, it’s easier to do that now, but we can still access each soldier through their neural link while they are operational.”
“Instruct them all to kill all Red October members.”
“Every one of them?”
“Yes, every last person working for Red October will be executed.”
“What about taking prisoners, Erin?”
“Fuck prisoners.”
“That’s fucking drastic. Why?”
“Primarily for Rex. He deserves peace and won’t get it until every last one of those cunts are dead. They don’t deserve to live anyway. We’ll be doing humanity a disservice if even one seedling escapes to regrow montrously.”
I’d considered the tactic thoroughly and decided that Red October was the snake that needed its head cutting off. It was true that Rex needed to move on, and I was utterly convinced he wouldn’t for as long as one Red October acolyte remained alive.
“How do we get them all in one place, Erin?”
“This upload universe of theirs requires many Red October personnel to work inside it, right?”
“Yes.”
“Which means they have a site like ours somewhere in Sin Street? These uploaded operational teams roaming their version of Sin Street must have bodies somewhere.”
“Undoubtedly. Is that where you want to attack them? In their stronghold?”
“I want you to kill every Red October beast in their upload universe, tell me where the site is, and I’ll fucking burn it down. Leave the real people to Rex and me.”
“You want to kill their conscious upload and physical form simultaneously?”
“Yep. All while our army mops up any Red October from the real streets above us.”
‘What about the Virtue League and Sin Street’s Mayor?”
“Leave the Mayor to Diana. The Virtue League are our people. They just don’t realize how badly the other factions are misleading them.
When the pod lid next to the one Sissitrix worked on unbolted, I was surprised at the violence, hissing sound, and dry ice explosion. The soldier’s pods were far more industrial and designed to contain, almost incarcerate, the subject should a need arise.
The tendrils feeding inside a woman who lay in the pod retracted while her naked, lithe, muscular, ripped body shuddered like an engine starting on a cold morning. Her eyes flickered at a speed no human should be capable of while her head twitched worryingly.
“Is she okay, Sissitrix?”
“Yes. I’m sure of it. She will want to fuck soon, though.”
“Fucking do what?”
“These pod soldiers are programmed for a very high level of sexual activity. They also fall in love and become very protective of their partners.”
“They are humans, right?”
“Of course. They are programmed to work hard, play hard, fuck harder, and kill mercilessly.”
“Why the sex and love angles? Does it add anything to their performance as killers?”
“Loyalty. Let’s say you have a six-person bodyguard team, and you fuck them, activating the love programming. You have six people that will die to protect you.”
‘That’s fucking sinister, Sissitrix.”
“Would you rather die?”
“No.”
“Then you’d better explain things to Rex. You will need a very large bed this evening.”
“You’re fucking joking, right?”
“Have you ever heard of an Orgiastic Bacchanalia?”
“A crazed sex party?”
“It’s much more than that, Erin. The origins come from Roman and Greek times. I have ancient texts and artworks illustrating scandalized and extremely colorful accounts of the Bacchanalia, with frenzied sex rites, sexually violent initiations of all genders, every age and social class.”
“What reason do we have to use this tactic here, Sissitrix.”
“Sex and love are prime human motivators, as are anger and hatred. Which would you prefer harnessing?”
“Did this ever work before? I mean, has anyone used these orgasmic dances, sex rites, and frenzied partying to successful effect?”
“The cult of Liber was a god of viticulture and wine, male fertility and freedom. They used Orgiastic Bacchanalia as a murderous instrument of conspiracy against the state. The writer, Livy, claims that seven thousand cult leaders and followers were arrested and that most were executed.”
“Okay, I’m guessing… no, hoping, we have a different outcome in mind.”
“Yes, of course, Erin. The Bacchanalia scandal was one of several indications of Rome's inexorable moral decay.”
“Okay. That’s still not explaining to me how we use frenzied fucking as a means to win this war and the election.”
“Diana.”
“Okay.”
“Do you get it?”
I considered what Sissitrix might be driving at while our pod soldier slowly raised herself from the gel, holding, protecting, and containing her. She was gorgeous, six feet tall at least, with long blonde hair and piercing blue eyes that bore a hole in me.
“I am Alana.”
“I’m Erin.”
“Are you my Prime?”
“Umm… I don’t err… I, sorry.”
“Are you my Prime, Erin?”
She leaped easily, one-handed, from the pod, landing like a leopard on the concrete floor. When Alana stood, I saw her beauty in absolute splendor, with powerful muscles that curved in the most beautiful way.
“Are you my Prime, Erin?”
“I err.”
I glanced at Sissitrix, who nodded, urging me by pointing to focus on Alana. The pod soldier looked confused and stepped closer to me, bathed in a shimmering gel that only added to her attraction. Pert, hard breasts and solid, red nipples begged me to bed my new soldier immediately, but I held on.
“Are you my Prime, Erin?”
“Yes.”
“I am yours in every way. I love you, Erin, and shall protect you with my life. Shall I activate my team, or would we make love first?”
“Team first, bedroom fun later, Alana.”
She stared at Sissitrix momentarily, almost as though the two recognized one another.
“Are you the Technician that programs me?”
“Yes, I am.”
“I shall obey you in all matters less the needs of the Prime.”
“I agree. That is your directive.”
“Do I have your permission to activate my team for the Prime? Are they ready?”
“Yes, they are. All pursuivants are to be coded as you have been, Alana.”
“To protect and serve the Prime.”
Alana nodded at me, then winked, seeming totally unabashed about her nakedness. She strolled tantalizingly to the next pod, and I found myself wanting her so badly.
“Six men and six women, Erin.”
“Plus Rex and me. That’s a very big bed.”
“I told you.”
I faced my partner, determined to drill down to a conversation left hanging. They handed control to the remaining five pods with a finger swish of the screen, and we stared at one another.
“Just going back to our earlier conversation. Are you suggesting Diana will use sex to tame and control Sin Street?”
“Sex and love, yes.”
“What stops her from starting a cult such as in Roman times?”
“Diana is all about consent, Erin. That defines our strategy. Frenzied sexual rites, debauchery, love, sex, and a whirlwind of hedonism are wonderful when the prime rule is consent.
“Nobody does anything to anyone without it?”
“Exactly, Erin. The Consent Party. That’s what Diana is registering.”
“The Virtue League evolves, and Sin Street becomes a playground for everyone: tourists, local residents, and our army of sex-motivated killers. Everything hinges on Consent.”
I wouldn’t ever presume to understand the inner workings of Sissitrix’s mind, but having seen their crazed sex designs, artworks and witnessed the pod army’s first fuck soldier decanted from a pod-like womb, I knew they were right. Consent was the solution to a hedonistic, safe version of Sin Street.
I wandered off while the Technician helped Alana, welcoming more soldiers to the world, checking their vital signs, then pointing towards the shower and quartermasters where they might be kitted out.
I scanned the warehouse, enjoying how it gradually came to life with wall panels removed, revealing food concessions, including a burger joint, pizzeria, and fried chicken emporium. There were rails of high fashion clothing in one large store, lined up for off-duty moments, assuming the soldiers had time.
Rex approached me, smiling, waving his arms expansively at our Brigade-sized base as its full might and content became apparent.
“Did you see the Can-Am Maverick light combat all-terrain vehicles?”
“Yes. How many of those do you have?”
“Fifty-two serviceable, fully armed, and fueled vehicles. Everyone else travels in six-wheeled up-armored personnel carriers.”
“You did well, Rex.”
He looked proud, even more so because I had complimented him. It seemed Rex wanted to please me; what I wasn’t saying was how much I wanted to do the same for him.
“There is an accommodation block with leisure facilities. Would you like to see it, Erin?”
“I guess so. We’ll need to live here during our campaign. What about the soldiers we wake up?”
“They sleep and are fed through the pods when not on duty. Sissitrix will convert them from long-term storage to become the same as Allen and Chloe.”
“Have you considered how sinister that is?”
“They’re tools to do a very specific job, Erin.”
“They’re fucking human beings, Rex. If we start behaving like they don’t matter, we become Red October.”
He grumbled some more, but the shocking revelations of past days hunted down the small amount of decency that remained in my soul. If I were to get out of the situation Max had led me into with my conscience intact, more compassion was needed.
The accommodation building was one level lower down, accessible only from inside the armory. I stopped asking Rex how he’d created an underground fortress, accepting that he had and that it was a good thing for us.
There were fifty individual suites with king-sized beds, and I didn’t ask why, with another twenty-five bunk rooms accommodating ten people each as if in basic military training. Each had a locker, a single metal sprung bed, and a small stool in front.
“The suites look as luxurious as a five-star hotel, Rex.”
“I was planning for a long campaign.”
“It’s going to be done and dusted in a matter of days, perhaps a week at most. There is no way to avoid the bloodshed. Sissitrix believes we can win over the Virtue League using sex.”
“Okay, how will that work?”
“Orgiastic Bacchanal with Diana as our ringleader.”
“That sounds like a massive gangbang, Erin. You couldn’t get everyone inside Underground for that.”
“Clear the other levels of this underground car parking lot above us, Rex. We’re going to have the greatest fuck party in history outside this bunker. Keep the Virtue League and Sin Street’s people safely down here fucking or curfew them at home while death visits everyone else.”
“Killing Red October on the streets, Erin? It will be a complete bloodbath… I fucking love it!”
“They will be the only people up there. We won’t have to worry about innocents if they’re all down here, partying, dancing and fucking.”
“What about the Mayor and his people?”
“We’ll leave that problem to Diana. It’s enough that we utterly eliminate Red October and create a new start for everyone else on Sin Street.”
We had the makings of a plan, and I felt far more comfortable about taking a first trip with Sissitrix into the Red October Universe in a few hours’ time. It was something we agreed to do together. Reconnaisance before war.
“Come with me, Erin.”
“Where are we going?”
“To kill a man.”
I followed Rex to his truck, and he drove me across town to Underground. After hours inside the club, it was dark and empty, with a few cleaners mopping cum off the wooden dance floor.
He took me through the backstage, down several flights of stairs into a basement area and a steel door that opened using Rex’s thumb and retinal scan. The room’s light was a green hue that felt ominous, with rows of servers against one wall and upright pods leaning at a slight angle on the other.
“Sissitrix did not design these pods, Rex.”
“No, this chamber of horrors is all mine. Even Diana Von Rigg doesn’t know.”
“And what is this place for?”
He pointed to a glass box, lit up brilliant white, where inside a small drone the size of my fist sat. It had four tiny omnidirectional rotor blades at the corners. The gleaming, sleek black flying machine had a pyramid-shaped wedge at the front.
“Meet my slaughterbots. Before you object to their deployment, try them out. You can reconnoiter if you’d rather not kill, but I think wild horses won’t hold you back on this one, Erin.”
“Kill who Rex?”
“Mike Silvester.”
“Fuck…do you know where he is?”
“Yes. I can probably track the others who raped you as well.”
I’d forgotten about revenge, my pack of cards, and now, Rex offered the first on a plate. I wanted the bastards who raped me so badly, and now that was possible. It was time to choose whether I would exercise mercy or descend into depravity. Mike had been one of the worst rapists in the gang, taking turns between others, fucking me in each of the three holes he could.
“How do these slaughterbots kill people, Rex?’
“They have an artificial intelligence controlling each unit while talking to every other on the same mission. They use facial recognition algorithms and track social media to find people.”
“What if someone isn’t in the system?”
“Everyone is in the system, Erin. If I program Mike Silvester’s face into my control servers and let loose the slaughterbots, they will scour Sin Street until they find him and do whatever you wish.”
“How many slaughterbots are there?”
“Fifty thousand, working in swarms of twenty. They are at rest now, on rooftops, in air conditioning vents and abandoned warehouses, powering from the sun or mains and waiting.
“And all you have to do is release them with a kill order for Mike?”
“Yep. Once one finds him, the other nineteen are directed, converging on his head.”
“How do they kill?”
“The pyramid at the front is a shaped charge of one hundred grams of PE4 that explodes when less than one meter from his head. Each slaughterbot carries the same charge.”
“Two kilos of plastic explosive?”
“Exploding less than a meter from Mike Silverser’s head, Erin.”
“Fucking hell, Rex. This might be the finest assassin’s weapon ever.”
“Yeah, but we need to keep it under wraps a little while longer. It may pass that we must take out other people if the game shifts, some of whom are closer to us than others.”
I wasn’t drilling down to press on what he meant any further. Knowing Rex, he wouldn’t listen to my reasoning anyway, so it was best to hold back, wait, and hope he wouldn’t do anything rash without my permission.
“I suggest we use a swarm of twenty because I know Mike Silvester is in his apartment, leaving soon for a bar he thinks is safe for him.”
“Let’s do it.”
“You want to kill Mike, Erin?”
“Fucking damn right, I do.”
“I’ll get a slaughterbot operator.”
“I want to kill him myself, Rex. Which pod can I use?”
“Any you like. I’ll get inside one as well. We can track Mike together, and you can give the kill order. You’ll have to get naked and communicate with the pod as you did with Allen.”
I undressed quickly, as did Rex, stepping into the pod next to his. There was no gel, only a light buzzing sound when the pod activated its systems, speaking to me through thoughts and presenting images from the drone on an all-encompassing screen inside.
The screen disappeared, and suddenly, I was a slaughterbot floating high above the city. My body dissolved, and I felt metallic, even tasted it. My arms and legs were rotor blades, speeding me through the air, changing direction at my whim.
My personality changed, and I felt aggressive and toxic, as though my sole purpose and desire was to kill.
I’m a fucking vicious cunt.
I am the destroyer of worlds.
I’m totally fucking lost.
“Get a grip, Erin!”
“Who is that?”
“Erin, listen to my voice.”
“Rex. What’s happening to me?”
“You are inside a virtual world. It’s a very limited one, almost entirely to these slaughterbots and their interaction with the real world of Sin Street.”
“Fucking Christ Rex. Does everyone have an upload world?”
“It’s limited, Erin. You are a slaughterbot right now, feeling the emotions of its Artificial Intelligence.”
“Who has control over this mission, over me… is it me or the AI?”
“You do, but barely. It’s a fucking wild ride.”
“And what happens if someone takes me down?”
“You’ll die.”
“Are you fucking mad?”
“I’m right here with you, Erin. Focus on being alive, flying, and getting your revenge.”
“What happens when I trigger the explosion and kill Mike?”
“You are jettisoned from the upload naturally.”
I felt more alive than ever. Adrenaline flooded my body like heroin running through the veins of an addict withdrawing. I scanned Sin Street at night, admiring how beautiful it was lit up, completely contrasting with its street-level reality. I dove down, felt the thrill of a hunt, stopped, evened out, and hovered while searching from side to side.
“I can feel the other slaughterbots.”
“Do they seem like your siblings?”
“Yes, they are all really excited about killing Mike for my sake.”
“They know your story and what Mike did to you.”
“I hear music, Rex.”
“Gimme Some Lovin by the Spencer Davis Group.”
“We’re killing to music, now Rex?”
He hummed, then sang, and I joined him, lustful for killing and the sight of Mike’s blood.
“So glad you made it, Erin.”
“Gimme Some Lovin, Rex.”
“Follow me, baby!”
In unison, we banked hard right, diving steeply. I had the closest thing to a virtual orgasm, barely containing my blood lust for the death of Mike. We descended through tall buildings and hit the streets, flying twenty meters above them at fifty miles an hour. I felt a massive adrenaline spike, weaving around corners, taking tiny alleys, marching as a death squad to music.
“He’s there, Erin. Do you see the cunt?”
“I see him. One hundred meters, dark trench coat, the face has been enlarged by my AI so I can see him clearly.”
“Hit the button, Erin. We’ll all kill him together.”
“What button?”
Before Rex could answer, a weird, bright red button appeared in my mind. The words emblazoned on it were simple, so I did as asked.
Hit The Button, Erin.
We tightened formation into an attack mode, and I felt my sibling slaughterbots throbbing with anticipation. I imagined this must be what artificial intelligence sex must feel like as we spun in a gleeful circle, heading straight for Mike Silvester’s face.
My rapist looked up, but it was too late because one meter before him, we all turned and spun in a circle around him, aiming twenty deadly pyramid-shaped charges at his head.
When Mike’s lifeless body spun to the floor, my view returned to the pod screen. I was squirting unicorn pee from my swollen pussy in a tumultuous orgasm provided by the pod, whose tendrils were dual fucking my cunt and back passage. Piss leaked down my legs while my entire body shuddered, rippling with pleasure as I saw five kilos of gray ground meat and shards of splintered bone splattered on the floor.
Mike’s head was a burrito smashed by a mallet with his torso, arms, and legs shredded beside it.
“I orgasmed while killing Mike Silvester, Rex.”
“Fucking awesome, baby. Did you see that cunts’ head disintegrate? These slaughterbots are the fucking best, Erin.”
“Yes, they sure are.”
But I wasn’t sure about that. I’d descended into sexual, murderous anarchy, and it felt great, but a tiny part of my brain said it was wrong and that I must turn back or become lost.
I got out of the pod, fell to my knees, and retched on the floor before following Rex to a shower unit nearby. He soaped my aching body, removing all trace of my disgraceful orgasm but in no way salving my bloody, dreadful conscience.
“Your orgasm and being sick is normal, Erin. You can’t transfer to an upload and then return without losing control of all bodily functions. The orgasm helps your body relax and readjust.”
“I couldn’t do that every day, Rex.”
“I have specially trained operators, sweetheart.”
“Take me to Hannah, please. She has someone I need.”
He didn’t ask me for details, trusting my leadership outside the bedroom. I needed another damn good fucking from Rex, but this time without the broomstick warm-up because my ass cheeks were still bruised and aching from the last time.
“We’re going to be joined by a team of fuck buddies tonight, Rex.”
“Your new bodyguard team?”
“Yes. What time suits you?’
“Are you inviting me along?”
“Of course. Why would you think otherwise?”
“I knew you would fuck your team in bed tonight and assumed we’d be done from then on in.”
I stepped closer and brushed my lips lovingly against his while cupping his chin in my palm. I leveled my eyes at him, making sure he knew my love for him was real and unwavering.
“You and I will never be done, Rex. We shall go on together until the end of time.”
“I’d like that very much, Erin.”
We left Underground before dawn, traveling to Hannah’s building, followed a few hundred meters back by a couple of Chevy Suburbans full of my new security team who caught up. Fully equipped, they looked like the ultimate in special forces, with knives and a pistol strapped to the front of their body armor, using dump pouches full of spare ammunition and grenades.
I saw a car and recognized its owner pointing, surprised.
“Diana Von Rigg is here, Rex.”
“I got a message saying she was registered for the election, then had a run-in with the Mayor and brought him here.”
“Fucking hell, Rex, I hope she isn’t going to kill him. The Virtue League will kick off big time if he suddenly disappears.”
“Let’s go and see what’s happening.”
Inside Hannah’s building, it was deadly silent. Three semi-naked girls sat just inside the front door, in a makeshift reception lobby, each carrying an AK47, with dozens of spare, fully charged magazines piled high on the floor.
“Go ahead, Erin. Hannah has your package on the top floor in her penthouse.”
‘Penthouse now?”
“Yeah. We’ve converted the place. You wouldn’t recognize it. We got fed up fucking clients in shitty beds. This place is like Claridges, London.”
‘You girls deserve it.”
“Only because of you, Erin. We all know that and are eternally grateful.”
“Where is Diana Von Rigg?”
“Downstairs in the chamber, teaching the Mayor a lesson.”
“What kind of a lesson?”
“A don’t fuck with Diana Von Rigg lesson. Would you like to see it on CCTV?”
“Yeah, okay.”
What I saw could never be unseen, but readers, your fucked up artist duo, Sissitrix, and Kate Granger, will have to show you that next week.
A Resurgent Whore #21
Welcome to chapter twenty-first of an ongoing gritty noir series from ‘Sin Street’ created in partnership between Kate Granger and Sissitrix. Follow a woman’s desperate tale of humiliation starting in a pit of despair before her rebirth, revenge, and resurgence. This series began in a dark place because it must.
Dive deeper into Sin Street on Sissitrix.com, where violence lurks in every alley and sex is a weapon. Brutal characters, tangled plots, and dark places in a corrupt neo-noir city that will drag you into its chaos. Written by Kate Granger, illustrated by Sissitrix.
We scream our barbaric yawp across the roof of the world - Si vis pacem para bellum.
What a way to die. Sissitrix's Slaughterbots claim first blood in the apocalypse where the menacing terror games have begun. No more fitting end for a rapist, no better way than to send out a sign that war is coming. Freedom, Resurgence, and Revenge.... here we go in a race to the finish line where everything is up for grabs.
Sounds good. You have time to write at home? With all the visiting?