An Illustrated Story: Abused War Captive

[cisco47]

Camryn’s hut became a focal point. They installed a heavy padlock on the outside and painted a crude red symbol on the door – a universal sign understood by every soldier rotating through. Her existence settled into a numbing horror. Days blurred into nights punctuated by the scrape of the lock, the heavy tread of boots, and the inevitable violation. She was fed slop twice a day, just enough to keep her alive. The whip marks scabbed over, then scarred. The internal wounds from the initial rapes never fully healed, a constant, low throb beneath the fresh assaults. She learned to dissociate, retreating into a blank space behind her eyes, focusing on a single crack of light in the wall, the sound of rain on the roof – anything but the present.

[cisco47]

Complaining was unthinkable. Early on, a soldier had complained she was "too cold." The next day, instead of her thin gruel, the guard escorted her to the ‘punishment room’. He didn’t whip her hard, not like the first time, but hard enough to reopen two scabs on her back. "Earn your food," he’d sneered, tossing the whip onto the dirt floor before returning her to her hut, unfed. After that, she did her best to please. She forced herself to respond, to move, to make sounds they seemed to expect, even as her soul screamed in silent protest. Any hint of reluctance, any tear she couldn’t choke back, any failure to perform meant her mealtime was replaced by a whipping. Hunger became a sharp, familiar ache, but the lash was worse. Survival meant becoming an instrument of their pleasure, no matter how it hollowed her out.

[cisco47]

story to be continued...

[bakerboy]

story to be continued...

I will wait for the movie