Chapter 37
Where Is The Girl?
1:16pm
“No use pretending you’re asleep. You’re not the first person I’ve kidnapped.”
Clarissa opened her eyes. Her face was filled with a defiance that slowly melted away as her eyes drifted from her masked captor to her restraints and the gurney she laid on.
“Where am I? Where have you taken me?” Clarissa demanded.
“Someplace where we will not be disturbed for the rest of your life.”
“Where is my brother?” Clarissa asked.
“Dead. It was a good fight. Too bad you missed it. I imagine you could have given him some tips.”
Clarissa screamed and thrashed, throwing as much of a fit as the metal bands around her wrists, ankles, waist and neck would allow. “You fucking bitch! I’ll kill you! You killed my brother, I will kill you!”
“Doubtful. The only way you’re going to escape is if God is really, really bored.”
“What are you going to do? Torture me? Do your best, bitch!”
“Oh no, I’m not killing you. You are a resource. You’re going to be part of an experiment. An experiment that will help to reshape the world.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means that two years ago, I created a general. In nine months, the colonel will be born. But I need to provide them with an army. After all, all great wars require foot soldiers. That is what your children will be. An army of black Russians to act as cannon fodder. And with the leadership of my general-child, that army will help bring forth a revolution of science and reason. They will end anti-intellectualism and ignorance. They will eliminate the real enemies of justice. But most importantly, this army will put an end to racism, systemic and otherwise. And you are going to help. Or, I should say, your ovaries will.”
“My ovaries?”
“Yes, my little Russian psychopath. You are the perfect candidate. Your mind was strong enough to withstand multiple personal atrocities only to become a very adaptable serial killer. Plus, you’re a great physical specimen. Because of this, I am going to take your ovaries and introduce them to the sperm I collected from a detective friend of mine. Your many children, they’ll be American mulattos. They’ll be intelligent, but not so smart that they won’t march to their deaths on command. They’ll blend in and they’ll all die if that’s what becomes necessary. And the best part is I can keep you here forever and make as many babies as I want. The police aren’t looking for you. You have no family to report you missing or come looking for you. Your mobster friends are so sexist they’re not even worried about you resurfacing. All the bases are covered.”
Clarissa turned from the masked face, only to see another black woman in a thin blue robe. She sat in a wheelchair, shaved bald with a faraway look on her face. She appeared to be about six months pregnant.
“It took a while to break Shelia in,” Kendra said. “Took a while for her to detox from the booze and the casual cocaine use. But she fell in line after that. Nobody looking for her anymore either, at least no one I didn’t kill. Poetic justice really, if you knew the backstory.”
Tears fell from Clarissa’s eyes. It was the first time she had cried since the third time her father had raped her. She had long believed that she had lost that ability.
“For tonight, I’ll let you rest and mourn your brother,” Kendra turned and began walking away. “We will begin our work tomorrow.”
“Mad black woman!” Clarissa shouted through sobs. “Your nigger army will fail!”
“That’s a terrible thing to say about your own children,” Kendra continued walking away. Underneath the mask, her smile was broader than it had been in a long time.