His Abused Human Mate

The noisy winter wind stroke violently against the barred windows of the cell-like room, along with the soft pattering of sleet, as Casina Brandon, a twenty-one year old girl suffered the aftereffects of the antipsychotic drug she had been given earlier. Except for the indistinct sound of the lighting in the outer corridor, the gentle ticking of a station clock somewhere, and the occasional squeaking of a linen or medicine cart rolling down the hall, the only other sounds apparent were an occasional scream or whine from other patients.

Others were sleeping peacefully, as Casina should have been, but her hatred for the place made her strong and disinclined to follow the rules.

The thin hospital gown was no protection against the cold air seeping through the bare, curtain-less windows. Leather straps at her hands, feet, and waist kept her from warming herself otherwise. The room was sparsely furnished, so there was little she could do to occupy herself, even if her hands were free. Instead, she again lay pondering the circumstances that had led up to her arrest and confinement.

How she had ended up in a mental institute was beyond her. She had committed no crime. It was her foster parents, Norman and Zelda Zack, who should be locked away. She knew her Brother Jimmy's death had come at their hands, not hers.

As she thought of her little eight-year-old brother lying dead in the Zacks barn that day, over two years ago, scalding tears wet her face. She knew that the nightmare would never go away.

A life sentence at St. Christi's Institute for the Criminally Insane was crazy. Why hadn't there been a trial? Or a hearing at least, to determine her innocence? She was still wondering how the Zacks had managed to pull that one off. She sniffed, shivering, wishing she could wipe the wetness from her face and find a warm, soft blanket to snuggle in.

She lay there contemplating the matter, recalling her ill treatment by the Ivory Post PD that day, when her cell door suddenly squeaked open. Stiffening against her bonds, she felt panic sweep over her. She recognized the husky orderly standing in the doorway, his blob silhouetted against the light behind him. Her nemesis. Lester "Crater" McConnell. He was named so because of the acne scars all over his face.

Since she arrived at St. Christi's, this man had been trying to have his way with her. It was as if he felt it was his right to violate every female in the place, just because he worked there. But fortunately, the head orderly always managed to prevent Crater from succeeding whenever it came to her. Franklin Delaney knew she was young, a virgin, and intended to keep her intact, for whatever reason. If he had any morals, it would have surprised her since it was always Franklin, who forced drugs into her in an effort to keep her docile.

"Hey, babe," Crater said, shuffling his carcass across the floor to her bed. He fumbled with her straps, making her cringe at his intentions. A large man, he easily kept her secured with a hand to her chest, as he removed all of her restraints. She gasped and lifted her hands to cover herself when he snatched away her gown, tossing it onto a chair.

He grunted with the effort it took to free himself from his trousers, the belt buckle tapping against the metal bed bringing a moan to Casina's lips. Trembling as she listened to his labored breathing, she made to shove his hand from her. But he caught it, just as his pants dropped to the floor with a soft thud. She groaned in protest, struggling to free herself.

"Dammit! Hold still, will ya? This'll be over before ya know it."

"Listen, you stupid--," Casina began, squirming, "I..."

"Crater!" came the timely, familiar interruption. "How many times must I tell you? Dammit."

Crater turned to peer at his boss standing in the doorway. "Crap," he murmured, loosening his hold on Casina. "He must have ESP or somethin'."

He had forgotten to close the door behind him again, Casina observed gratefully.

"Pull up your damn pants and get your butt out here!" Franklin ordered. "But Frankie..."

"Now!"

"Ah, crap," he repeated, pulling up his trousers to join him in the hallway.

Casina lay back with a sigh of relief. Franklin to the rescue again, she thought dryly.

Still somewhat groggy from her earlier medication, she turned her head to peer out the open door. She could hear Franklin admonishing Crater for the umpteenth time. A grin sprang forth as she imagined Crater's face at having been caught again with his pants down. Then, a thought struck her.

She instantly sat up, groaning as a wave of dizziness and nausea washed over her. But she forced herself from the bed and hurried to snatch up her gown to cover herself.

She had to hurry before the men realized the door was still open and that she was free.

"Frankie," she overheard Crater saying. He stood only a few feet from the door. "I just gotta have her. I can't stand it another day. I'm always thinking about her."

"Couldn't you use one of the other patients? One who's already been broken in, Les? What's wrong with one of them until I give the okay on this one?"

"I dunno, Frank," Lester said. "There's something special about this one. She's so pretty and all. Not like them other hags."

"You're right on that account," Franklin agreed, "but you can't go around like some Don Juan and-" He was interrupted by Lester's shout of dismay.

"Hey, Frank! She's gettin' away! We forgot to lock the door!"

"Hurry, you idiot! After her!" Glancing over her shoulder, Casina saw Franklin fumblingly butting his cigarette into a nearby plant-never mind that smoking at the institute was prohibited-and giving Lester a rough shove in her direction. By the time they began the chase, she had already skidded down the long hallway and around a corner. "Shit! I think I left the ward gate unlatched, too!"

"See, I'm not the only idiot, Frank."

"Just shut up and follow her! We can't let her escape."

"Yeah," Crater wheezed. "Can't have her ruinin' our perfect record."

"That's all we need. Some stupid broad running to some honest authorities and broadcasting this all over the State. I'll kill her before I'll let that happen."

By some miracle, Casina had obtained a good lead, staying at least a corridor ahead of the orderlies. Still dizzy, weak, and a bit off-kilter, it was difficult for her to think straight, and her efforts were slower than normal. Still, she was able to keep outdistancing the men. Had they not been negligent in locking doors, she might never have been able to get as far as she had. And yet, although unsure of her surroundings because of her confused state of mind, she easily managed to locate an outside exit. She knew God was on her side because, fortunately, that door was unlocked as well.

She shoved it open and bolted off into the night.

The elements had increased in severity, but she didn't care, despite the fact she had on only a thin gown. The frigid wind churned up spirals of snow and was whipping them around in a frenzy, about the turbulent, uninviting landscape. Still, she knew she might never get another chance at freedom and could hear the plodding footsteps behind her getting closer. If anything, only time and nature's elements were against her now.

She realized her chances for survival on such a bitterly-cold evening were slight. But, heavens, she had to try! Let them follow, she prayed, raising her eyes heavenward, but please please don't let them catch me! I'd rather die out here!

She flinched at the sting of the frigid snow covering her bare feet, her desire for freedom giving her the determination to brave nature's dominance.

* * * *

Moments later, Crater stopped before the fire exit, curious. Pushing open the heavy door, he stepped outside, his eyes searching for some sign of their fleeing dove. A glance down proved his guess correct when he spied a set of tracks leading into the field beyond.

"Franklin!" he called over his shoulder, spitting a wad of tobacco into the snow as he narrowed his eyes to scan the dark field for Casina. "She's heading out back. Won't get far though cuz she ain't wearin' any clothes. Why don't you go back and get a hypo and meet me out there. It shouldn't take long to find her. And bring a flashlight!"

"Good idea," Frank answered relief in his voice. "Catch up with you in a bit."

Crater lingered long enough to watch Franklin head off towards the lab. He braced the door open with a nearby rock; one kept aside for just such a purpose, and then stepped off the stoop into a gale of brisk wind. He grimaced and shook his head at Casina's stupidity. Wishing he had put on a warm coat, he struggled to follow her trail since the raging wind had erased most of her footprints. But it didn't take long for him to stumble upon her about a quarter mile from the building. It was a wonder he'd found her at all, considering the now whiteout conditions all around them.

"Hey, bitch!" he spat, angry at having to be outside, when he came upon her slight form crumpled in the snow. Casina, heedless of the stinging sleet and wind at her back and against her bare skin, was trying to warm her frozen feet. "Thought you'd get away from us, didn't you? Just how far did you expect to get before we found you?"

Realizing her flight had been for naught; Casina brushed aside her tears of defeat and failure and stammered through numb lips, "I s-sure don't want t-to st-stay with you p-people. I don't th-think I can st-stand anym-more of your k-kind hospitality." She shrugged away the large hand squeezing her shoulder and focused her attention on her benumbed feet.

"Is that a fact?" Crater drawled with thick sarcasm before pulling her roughly to a standing position. "Well, sweetie, it would have been interesting to see how you'd manage to climb over the electric fence surrounding this place."

"Crater! Find her yet? I've got the stuff!"

"Over here, Frank! Hurry up, will ya!" Crater peered through the swirling snow, at the dot of light moving towards them. Franklin, following the sound of Lester's gritty baritone, sauntered up to them, grinning as he shined a light into their crinkled faces.

"Stupid flashlight conked out when I was halfway out here, so I had to go back and get more batteries. Want to be sure I hit the right vein."

"Well focus it here, will ya," Lester directed. He grabbed Casina firmly and pulled her arm straight, turning it palm up. "I can't stand bein' out in this frickin' storm. Give me the damn needle."

"Oh no. I'll do it. You just hold her still." Franklin flicked his light over Casina's shivering, sweating form, recognizing her need for a fix, but deliberately prolonged her silent agony. He made a lengthy charade of pulling a wrapped handkerchief from his pocket and unrolling it across his palm. Then he slowly sorted out its doleful contents one by one: cotton, a prepared syringe, and a small alcohol packet. "Here," he said, handing Crater the flashlight. "Now, lay her down."

Crater gave her a rough shove, as he impatiently kicked her legs out from under her, ignoring her grunt of pain when she hit the ground. Kneeling beside her, he put a firm hand to her chest, shoved the flashlight under his elbow, then yanked her arm out.

"All right," he said. "Make it snappy. My toes are gettin' numb."

"Keep your shirt on. This won't take long."

Moving to one knee, Franklin prepped Casina's arm then took the syringe from the unrolled handkerchief, its ends flapping wildly in the wind. Just as he made to plunge the needle into Casina's arm, he suddenly jerked back on it, dropping it into the snow.

"Now what'd you go and do that for?" Crater blustered, shifting his gaze from the syringe to Franklin, who was staring past him with sagging jaw. Following the direction of his gaze with the flashlight, Crater gaped in astonishment and released his grip on Casina, whose befuddled form now lay in near-hypothermic shock.

Overcome with fear at the sight presented them, the startled orderlies grasped one another for balance and stood up.

"Now what do you want?" Crater demanded, straightening. "Don't you know this is private property? And how the hell'd you get inside the fence?"

"Yeah," Franklin said in as brave a voice as he could muster.

"Lookit," Crater dared threateningly. "If you're wondering what it is we're doing here, it ain't none of your damned business! So, I'd advise you to get the hell out of here before I decide t-"

* * * *

But those were their last...and final...words.

Warm, humane hands gently held Casina as a lukewarm liquid caressed her stinging members. Too insensible to comprehend or care what was happening to her, she shivered uncontrollably as unfamiliar voices faded in and out around her, vaguely penetrating her subconscious. Strong hands handled her, but she was physically unable to ward them off. She felt herself rising and falling simultaneously. It was a confusing feeling, one that made her dizzy and warm all at the same time.

Still, the liquid caressing her felt so good, and the hypothermic needles of pain were slowly subsiding to a more tolerable state.

Later she was to recall a sharp pain in her head and then at her wrist that made her cry out. Feverish, she struck out blindly as a strange steaming drink was then poured carefully, yet insistently down her throat. She made a feeble effort at resistance but soon felt herself falling again, falling until she was no longer aware of anything.

* * * *

She awoke to a brightly lit room. Lifting a hand against the light, she blinked, taking a moment to adjust her eyes.

She glanced at the sparse furnishings, then slowly sat up when she observed the large round port hole on the wall beside her, spaced about a foot from the bunk. Slowly she pulled herself up by the ledge to peer out the thick glass.

A strangled gasp tore from her lips as she took in the view. Biting back a curse, she curled an angry fist against the glass, her stomach knotting in agitation.

"No. No!" she groaned as she observed the wondrous, intricate patterns of glistening stars, whirling spheres, and mysterious orbs suspended seemingly motionless outside the port hole. "This can't be happening!" Faith, was she in outer space...on a...a...spaceship?

She fell back onto the bunk and threw a forearm over her face. God, she pleaded silently. Let this be nothing more than a bad dream. Frightened, heartfelt sobs overtook her, as tears sprang forth and streamed down her face. She pounded the padded bunk in fury, wondering what was to become of her now. "Please, God, no..." she murmured. After all she had been through and now...this.

Casina cried herself to sleep. When she awoke, she sensed a presence behind her. Turning over, away from the wall, she gasped in alarm at sight of the man standing near her. She knew he was an alien. He was of darker-than-average hair and skin color and stood taller than any man she had ever seen. He wore a forest green tunic and leggings, and his long, graying hair was drawn back in a queue.

She hurriedly yanked the unfamiliar white gown she was wearing down over her knees, as she drew them closer against her. Sitting up, she hastily scooted across the bunk to the corner at the head end, wanting to get as far away from the alien as she could.

"Who are you? What do you want?" she demanded, fearful under his intense scrutiny. "Go away and leave me alone." She waved a hand to shoo him away.

But he didn't go. He just stood there with arms crossed, studying her reaction to him, his dark eyes intense in their perusal.

When he remained silent and moved closer, she edged off the bunk to crouch down in the corner, near the port hole. Wide-eyed, she watched him with uncertainty, shaking with terror at being in such close proximity to an extraterrestrial being.

"What is it you want?" she demanded with trepidation, as she looked him over. "Why did you bring me here?"

As if enjoying her discomfiture, he inched even closer. She instantly recoiled from him but found herself trapped against the wall.

"Please," she begged, cringing as she buried her face in the corner. "Don't...hurt me."

At this, she sensed an immediate change in him. Curious, she sneaked a peek up at him, surprised now by his troubled expression. A frown graced his lips as he studied her. After a moment, he sighed.

"Forgive me," he began, in a deep, slightly-accented voice. "You don't need to be afraid. I am a...physician. I am called Paxis."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "You...speak...English?" He gave a slight nod and stepped back.

"I only came to check on you. To see if you needed anything."

She blinked in disbelief but gave him her full attention then. Her fear slowly waned as she considered his sincerity.

"How about a ticket home?"

At this, the corner of his mouth curled with humor.

"I am afraid that is not possible."

"And why not?"

"Kaanig Altair would not allow it."

"Who is that?"

The man's demeanor quickly changed to one of wariness. She sensed uncertainty in him as he considered whether he should answer the question. As he did, he came around to where she was hugging the wall. Not sure of his intentions, she huddled in the corner, knowing she had no time to escape across the bunk.

Meeting her frightened gaze, he slowly reached down to draw her to her feet, which she allowed him. Then he gently took her arm so he could examine her wrist. Only then did she notice the strange mark in it. She choked back her outrage at sight of it, at this desecration of her body, then tried to free her arm from his grasp.

"What is...What is that? How did that...get there?" He abruptly released her.

"Another will answer your questions," he said. "I only came to see if the implants were causing any pain. If they were bothering you." They?

"Does this one bother you?"

She angrily snatched her hand away, drawing her wrist up to examine the queer, blue, diamondshaped 'thing' the aliens had put there. Panicking at sight of it, she struggled to breathe.

"No," she said at length, trying to calm her racing heart as short gasps of air escaped her. "It's okay. I didn't even know it was there until now. What's it for?"

But again, he ignored her question. "Is there anything I can get you?"

"Passage home!"

He snorted at her insistence, returned to the other side of the bunk, and headed for the door. "I will bring you some sustenance," was all he said as he exited the room.

Frustrated, she stared after him with uncertainty before turning to lean against the port hole, wishing she had gotten some answers. The fact that she was under another doctor's care was disheartening. Swallowing, she blinked back more tears as she considered that perhaps everyone did think she was nuts. And as she considered the strange mark, she wondered if she was now someone's slave or possession. That alone frightened her.