Nightmare's Empire

      — Mister President! Could you explain us what is your new law about?       Behind camera flashes a strictly-dressed bald man was sitting. He didn’t have eyebrows and was extremely slender. All people around were scared of him. His dark eyes looked straight to one camera’s lens, wich was situated in the center. He answered in calm, but, at the same time, loud voice:       — Fear is each person’s natural state, which opens all our vices. Everyone, I believe, understand that our government can’t catch every criminal. So, just imagine that those criminals would be punished not by a usual judge, but by a moral judge, that would be always in his mind. Nowadays, you see, we can’t talk about God’s Judgment. Particularly everyone in this country is atheist. So, at the State Council we’ve decided to settle The Nightmare, I’d say 'The Real Nightmare', to every body.       — What do you mean by saying' The Real Nightmare'?       — Dream, in which a person with his body and soul would face his fear. The Nightmare can punish a person in any way it wants. It can even injure a guilty. It is, I could say, the infection, which has intelligence and can wield a body. Starting today, everyone must be vaccinated and taken a card, without which nobody after a week can’t even go out. Keep in mind. If you are a criminal or are going to make a crime, start to repent today. If you are a peaceful citizen, don’t worry about anything. What is more, on the next week 'Seven No' laws will have apeared: 'No to LGBT', 'No to subcultures', 'No to tattoos', 'No to piercings', 'No to betrayal of the Motherland', 'No to government-disapproved scientific researches', 'No to medical assistance to the punished people'! For violation one of the 'Seven No' laws a person will be panished up to imprisonment!       Silence… It had continued up to the moment when a journalist has decided to ask the last question, swallowing a heavy clod that had approached to her throat:       — Will be there any side effects from vaccinations?       — Yes. After you are vaccinated you will be scared of cold and hate winter. Because cold will remind you about your Nightmare. Anything else to ask?       The journalist didn’t say anymore. She was nervously biting her lip, thereby staining her teeth in bright red lipstick. When she had been said that she would interview The President she had been happy like whenever before, because she had been promised really big money. But was it worth it?       The wonen was absolutely sure that people, who were watching this news, weren’t too scared as she was, standing in front of “the monster”, who for every free thought could become The Nightmare for her. And probably in thus second the journalist was the onlyone or one of the few, who after hearing it, had thought not about her phobias, but about how violence can be people, who have the official permission to rule others.       Looking at the list of questions, which had been given her before the interview, the women was terrified. She left a dent on the paper by the pad of her finger and decided to ask about one more thing:       — In your opinion, will it be easy for our citizens to hate winter, Mister President? What’s about the fact that a lot of people have birthdays in winter?       — I don’t think that for our strong citizens it will be a problem!        “Fucking manipulator!” — named the women in her thoughts, saving a tolerate smile on her face.

***

      The interview ended up, but unpleasant feeling on women’s soul had stayed. Everyone from the media staff led upstairs of the government building and started to be invited to a special room in the raw to get vaccinated and issue a card.       The journalist was penultimate. With no desire she sitted in front of the woman, wearing mask and white bathrobe, and held out her hand. She writhed because of the needle entering the vein. The infection slowly poured from the syringe to body. Incredibly cold liquid made her shudder and whine piteously from the desire to pull out her hand and prevent the government from carrying out its plan. But her arm was hold tight, probably, because the women in front of her has already felt it or predicted such reaction. The journalist threw her head back, squinting and letting tears flow from the corners of her eyes. It continued just couple of minutes, but by the feelings, for infinity. The needle was pulled out slowly and a square patch was glued to the puncture site. The infected hand was brazenly stuffed with a plastic card. The journalist was asked to leave.       — It was painful, — she whispered to the last in the row, who was her mate. The man went in to the room and the woman’s decided to leave this place as fast as she could.       Five seconds and she was standing on stairs. But a sharp heartbreaking scream made her stop. So strong, as if its owner wanted to rip his throat out. The woman covered her ears and was frozen, realizing that this cry could’t belong to anyone else beside her mate.       She quickly ran to the special room. Opened the door and saw the man foaming at the mouth, who was floundering on the floor like a bug, moving its paws in pathetic attempts to roll over from his back to his belly. Next to him the scared woman was standing, who doing nothing. The journalist with horror in her eyes knelt down, taking the man’s distorted face in her trembling hands.       — Miss! You shouldn’t do this! Mister President said that we can’t help people, who are been punished! — shouted the nurse.       — But… but… The Nightmare can’t appear at the moment when a person has just vaccinated! — couldn’t understand the journalist, bursting into tears.       — You can’t help him anyway!       The nurse went closer and dragged the crying woman by the shoulders from man’s body. She went out into the corridor with her and closed the door.       — My dear, just realise it: what if your mate is really a criminal!       — No… No! — the woman shooked her head, guessing the reason, — He just loves boys. That is. Why do they do this to the person who just is a little bit different from others?       — It’s wrong. The nature hadn’t done two sexes by the chance! He is ill, my dear! And people, who do something strange with their body, too! Earlier nobody hadn’t even thought about such things…

***

      “Earlier?!” — the journalist was indignantly repeating, walking down the dark street.       Mascara flowed, lipstick smeared, and the suit, wich was ironed last night, crumpled. The woman was getting announcements on her phone, but she just didn’t pay any attention to irritating vibration. She didn’t care at all.       “And what about those, who created this low? Aren’t they ill?! People don’t want to hide! They need to express themselves and their body is only their business! That is for what the modern society is fighting! And the government is far from modern! It’s previous generation!” — the women talked to herself, — “No! Not criminals is their aim! Far from criminals!”       The journalist sobbed and felt very dizzy, because of what it’s began to interfere with walking smoothly. Her stomach twisted and there was a feeling that she was about to vomit. A careless step, and she fell unconscious in the middle of the street, attracting the attention of people around.       — Hey, guys! Just look at her! — an overweight drunk man screamed with laugh. Others just snorted contemptuously as from this mab, as from a lying journalist,       — Isn’t she a chick, who interviewed Mister President?       — Wait a minute! You are right! — another man went to him. This one was slim, but as drunk as the first. He kicked a woman with his foot, laughing, — I can suggest to have fun before we will be vaccinated!       — Yeah! You right… you right… — the fat man patted him on the shoulder.       He picked up the journalist and carried her into the narrow alley. The body was roughly pressed against the wall and the man began to put off a white shirt to crush a small chest in calloused hands with special zeal.       — Tits, of course, are a little bit small, but such elastic! And look at the neck! It’s perfect! — he praised.       His mate took off her skirt and pushed aside her panties to view the pussy, enthusiastically running his fingers over all the folds.       — Let’s begin! — the slim man said putting of his pants. The fat man clumsy helped to turn over the body and hold it for his mate, who harshly entered the vagina, praising the narrowness of the “beauty” and soon starting to move. It took him only a couple of minutes to cum right into her. The sperm in streams flowed down the journalist’s thighs.       — And now this is my turn! — announced the fat man and swapped places with his mate, loudly slapping the woman on the buttock and laughing hoarsely.       — Get away from her! — a rude voice rang out and for a second attracted the attention of the rapists.       The man was standing behind them. He had gone out from his home to throw out the rubish, judging by his clothes and packages in his hands.       — Man! Don’t disturb our fun, ok? Just join us! — exclaimed the slim man and just then got the hit in his face. Blood gushed from his nose. He clasped his face with trembling hands and ran away, whining.       The fat man was froze in his place.       — Do you wanna repeat his fate?       — You think that I’m a weakman? — shouted the man, drooling from his mouth.       The journalist’s body fell down to the ground like a rug doll. The fat man stretched out his fists in front of him, intending to fight, but before he could make the slightest movement, he was hit in the genital organ and bent in half, groaning painfully.       The man, who decided not to waste time, picked up the woman in his arms and carried her as far away from the alley as possible.

***

      The darkness. That’s what the journalist saw, when she fell into a dream. Besides — the loneliness, that pressured her from all sides. It would seem that she was already lonely. She lived along, betrayed by hundreds men and in such young age dissapointed in love. The only person who had supported her is that mate, who foaming at the mouth helplessly suffered on the floor today.       — Hello, Jihi, — said the rude President’s voice, — You mustn’t think about your government anything besides good! Today you saw how your mate was punished, didn’t you? — the knife appeared from nowhere and pressed to her throat, — Beg for forgiveness, Jihi! Otherwise, it will be very bad!       — You’re just The Nightmare! — answered the woman. The blade went down to the shoulder and by only one movement left a red line, from which the blood has started dripping.       — You will know, when you wake up. And now you have to be punushed!       The woman fell down to her knees. Different scenes from Jihi’s life, which she promised herself to forget, appeared in front of her eyes. Jihi was trying to look away, but that scenes were everywhere. What is more, there was a feeling that her eyelids were pulled back and fixed with super glue not to allow the woman to close eyes and chains were tied around their wrists not to allow to move. Jihi shouted and started to pray for a help, but there were noone. Just darkness and laughing voice of the president.       A light flashed into her eyes. The journalist’s conscience and all the feelings came back. As the pain did. However not only in the shoulder. In the lower abdomen also. Jihi opened her eyes, starting to grow accustomed to the light. She was in unfamiliar place, laying down in a big bed and wearing someone else’s clothes. There was a wet rag on her forehead and a glass of water with different pins next to her. The woman sit. She held out her hand to carefully-stayed things, because her head was ready to explode from the pain and the tolerance was the last think she could think about.       Front door clapped. The man went in the room with a pill box, which he has bought recently.       — You waked up! — he said with relief, — Drink this too, — he held out the recently bought pills.       — What is that? — Jihi couldn’t read anything. Letters just flew away from their places, so for her that was a mystery what was written in the box.       — Contraceptives. You were raped.       — S...sorry? — the woman’s voice trembled and the pain in the groin reacted after hearing its reason.       — Two men wanted to rape you. I don’t know how far had they come.       Tears flowed from the journalist’s eyes again. She’s started to sobbing. The man sat close to her and patted her shoulder reassuringly.       — What a fucking day! — she whispered.       — Yeah. That's true... What is your name?       — Kim Jihi. And yours?       — Mim Junhyon. I’m sorry for what you had to go through. Can I have a question: why were you unconscious? — That’s the vaccine, — the woman showed a cut on her shoulder, — The government wanna make cattle from us!