NOVEL NEXT CHAPTER 120: Day 8: A Very Different Greeting
(This chapter has many details that may not be suitable for readers. The author does not condone such actions, language or behaviour. Read with caution.)
POV: SONS OF VALHALLA SETTLEMENT
In the settlement of the Sons of Valhalla, things were handled very differently. As the newly arrived refugees stepped out of the portal, they were met with a sight that was far from welcoming. The Sons of Valhalla, clad in their battle gear, swiftly encircled the newcomers, weapons at the ready.
“All right, everybody into groups,” a gruff voice commanded. It was Bjorn, the leader of the group. His real name had been Winston before he joined the Sons of Valhalla, but had taken a proper name that reflected his Caucasian heritage after. He pointed his sword aggressively, “Women over here, men over there.”
The refugees were already on edge after witnessing the fairy’s ruthless display earlier, and now they were being treated like cattle. Panic started to spread among them, but they hesitated, uncertain of what to do.
Bjorn’s patience wore thin quickly. He walked over to one of the women, towering over her. “Hurry up,” he growled, before delivering a sharp slap across her face.
The sound echoed through the tense air, and it was enough to break the refugees’ paralysis. Shaken and scared, they quickly began to move, splitting into two groups as ordered. The men huddled together on one side, casting worried glances at the women who stood trembling on the other.
The Sons of Valhalla kept a close watch, their expressions hardened, showing no empathy. This was their way of maintaining order, their way of asserting control. This wasn’t Earth, and this was their settlement.
“Get in line fresh meat!” They cheered, laughed and hooted, looking at the newcomers.
Bjorn’s cold eyes scanned the divided group. “Now, all you men,” he barked, “I want all of you mud monkeys and mixed races with darker skin over here on the right, and those blessed with white skin and purity over here on the left. Move mud monkeys, quickly! I know how lazy your kind are.”
The command sent a fresh wave of shock through the group. Earth 2037 was a place where in most countries such blatant displays of racism had become unheard of. But here, in this brutal new world, it seemed the ugliest aspects of humanity had resurfaced. And it hadn’t taken more than a week to do so.
A dark-skinned man in the crowd couldn’t help but mutter, “I guess it didn’t take very long for racism to rear its ugly head.”
Bjorn’s head snapped towards him, his face twisted in anger. “Shut up, no more talking, darkie,” he snarled, raising his sword high.
With a sickening thud, Bjorn brought the hilt down on the man’s head, sending him crashing to the ground, unconscious. The other men in the group recoiled in horror, but none dared to move or speak. They were now painfully aware that in this place questioning authority could cost them dearly.
The Sons of Valhalla stood tall, their expressions as cold and unyielding as the steel in their hands. They were proud of putting these subhumans back in their place.
“Did you hear what he said, tar babies? Move your lazy asses!”
Bjorn and the other men wasted no time. They moved with cold efficiency, fastening heavy collars around the necks of the darker-skinned men. The clinking of metal was the only sound that filled the tense silence, the weight of the situation sinking in as the men were effectively shackled, their fate sealed.
‘This can’t be happening‘ Troy, a community college student was stunned at the new situation he was in.
‘This shit ain’t right‘ One of the new slaves, Isahya, a former gang banger from Britain thought.
‘I’m Mexican, not African. Maybe they’ll let me go later‘ thought another man.
Bjorn then turned his attention to the women, who were trembling in fear, eyes wide with terror. "Looks like some of you are already dressed for the jobs you're going to have here," he sneered, his gaze lustily lingering on those who were scantily clad.
Lisa, a blonde that had always been praised for her beauty protested with a shaky voice, "No, we can't do that." Her body quivered, as she tried to cover up the view of her scantily clad breasts with her arms.
Without hesitation, Bjorn backhanded her hard across the face, the crack of the impact echoing in the air. She staggered back, clutching her cheek, but dared not speak again.
“Oh you’ll be doing THAT real soon. And if you aren’t a good little bitch you’ll be doing all my men.” Said Bjorn.
‘I can’t believe a man actually hit me! That’s unbelievable.‘
Lisa stood in stunned silence, her mind reeling from Bjorn’s words.
‘How could anyone still believe in such hatred and ignorance? I thought the world had moved beyond this—beyond the patriarchy, the cruelty, the senseless violence. But now I’m a prisoner, in this unholy wasteland.‘
Her heart pounded as she watched Bjorn’s followers cheer, their eyes filled with fervour. ‘How could they all be such animals?‘ She thought. ‘This isn’t right —this is madness. I have to find a way out.‘
Bjorn’s eyes narrowed as he surveyed the group of women, a twisted smile playing on his lips. "And it looks like the rest of you are being nice and quiet," he said, his eyes focusing on the few women in scanty night clothing, clearly portaled in during their sleep.
Some of the women were in pyjamas, their modesty barely preserved, but the few in revealing lingerie stood out, vulnerable and exposed. Bjorn’s smile widened. "It’ll be a great job, if you behave,” he sneered, relishing the power he held over them.
All the men in Bjorn's party cheered, their voices rising in a sickening chorus. The sound was vile, filled with anticipation and cruel satisfaction. The women huddled closer together, knowing that in this place, resistance was not an option, and their nightmare was just beginning.
The Sons of Valhalla after splitting the groups gave a speech to the remaining white men.
“The portals have brought you here. And here you have a choice. You can join us. You can become proud Sons of Valhalla. A leader amongst men. You can reclaim your heritage. Or you can join them.” Indicating the group of slaves.
“This is your only time to choose.”
With those two choices, the new recruits didn’t take much time to decide. Slavery was not anyone’s first choice. While joining a racist cult of neo-Nazis was not what they would want to do if they had any other choice, it was better than slavery.
Some of the new recruits, though, smiled. Finally their rights as a ruling class of proud white men had been reinstated.
‘‘‘