Emmanuel's Seed

"I have all the skill I need for what I do!" chuckled First Woman.

"You're a fucking whore; big deal." Third Woman snapped, not opening her eyes.

"Well, I think it's great!" First Girl bubbled.

"Idiot," mumbled Third Woman.

With that, the room grew quiet for a while, broken by Blonde Girl: "And they said that we would be shown some sort of a movie or training film after we are ready to move on to the other housing."

"Whatever," Third Girl said, "It's gonna be telephone sales."

The next day, the group was taken outside, behind the building, where there was an Olympic size swimming pool and lounges with cloth-covered cushions on them. The girls were told to swim and sun themselves for a while, but to come back inside for lunch when they heard the bell.

Bonnie came out in a two-piece swimsuit and placed herself on one of the lounges, a diet Pepsi and a stack of magazines in tow. In her early 30s, Dancer was much older than the younger girls, but still had a teenage figure. Once she has settled in, the girls, now all naked in the pool, gradually coalesced at the far end. They began looking Bonnie's direction and whispering to each other.

Dancer put down her magazine. "In case you are wondering, I am the only one who wears a swimsuit around here. That's not because I am modest, but because I am the director, the person in charge of this entire compound, and I prefer not to have my employees see me naked. Everyone here works for me."

Like a group of baby ducks, the girls in the pool gradually paddled over to the edge of the pool nearest Dancer, lining up next to each other and placing their chins on the edge of the pool. Bonnie sensed their presence and put down her magazine. "Yes?" she asked the group, "What's up?"

The girls looked at each other and began asking questions. Bonnie smiled at them and told them that all of their questions would be answered by the training film when they are selected to move into the new housing. The girls got out of the pool, each selecting a plush white towel and a lounge.

"Don't burn, girls," Dancer said, not looking up from her magazine, "If you are prone to burn, please move to one of the lounges under the canapé on the far side of the pool.

"Umm, Ms. ..." First Girl began.

"Doctor Dancer." Bonnie helped.

"Oh yeah. Dr. Dancer, maybe they have some sunscreen or lotion or something."

"I'm so sorry," Dancer replied, knitting her eyebrows, we don't allow any of that sort of thing here – no lotions, oils, makeup, perfume, etc. Only toothpaste, mouthwash, non-antiperspirant deodorant." Bonnie sipped her diet Pepsi and returned to her magazine. The girls looked at each other and some of them shrugged.

By the time the cook came out of the building to pulled the chain, ringing the old bronze bell on the lawn next to the pool enclosure, Bonnie and all of the girls had moved into the shade. At lunch, Bonnie said that she intended to get to know each of the girls personally, learning as much as she could about their lives, their hopes and their dreams.

That night, the girls enjoyed a first-run movie, had some hot herbal tea and cookies before bed.

First Girl was gently awakened by Bonnie, who whispered that she had been selected to begin her training in the morning and she needed to wash up and get ready to go. First Girl showered, washed her hair with the apple scented herbal shampoo, then dried herself with a couple of the plush white towels. When she was ready, she put on a fresh examination gown and went into the hallway, where Bonnie greeted her with a warm smile. "You look wonderful, dear," Dancer whispered.

"Thank you, Dr. Dancer," First Girl said, almost melting with appreciation, "And also thank you so much for helping me and the other girls out like this. I don't know what charity you work for but if I ever make it rich I would give a lot to it."

"That's so sweet of you to say, dear. I think they're ready for us in the Green Room."

When they reached the soundproof door of the Green Room, Bonnie entered a code into the keypad and the door clicked open. "You are in good hands, my dear," Bonnie said, giving the girl a warm and reassuring hug."

"You don't come in with me, Dr. Dancer?" First Girl asked, her accepting eyes wide with inquiry.

"No, I have to get some sleep. I have a lot to do tomorrow. But don't worry, I will see the entire process on video tape tomorrow. Have fun!" With that, Dancer closed the door, leaving First Girl to wander down the hallway into the large theater-like staging area.

"Hello!" chirped a warm, friendly voice, "It's great to see you. My name is Gabriel, but people call me Gabe. Are you ready to begin?"

"I guess; what am I to do?" First Girl asked, looking around at staging area, noticing that there were several cameras positioned about the circular stage, and some theater seats on risers on one side. She couldn't see the theater seats very well, as there appeared to be some sort of glass partition between them and the center of the well-lighted stage. In the center of the stage was a large object covered by a green cotton cloth, similar to the material used to make the examination gowns.

"Don't worry. This isn't a test or anything; I'm sure you'll do great!" said Gabe, "Here, let me take your gown. I'll set it right over here for you later, okay?"

"Umm, I have to be naked for the training?" First Girl asked, just a slight sense of worry audible in her question.

"Oh, it will be just fine; I am a doctor, you know. Things are very professional around here. But if you would prefer to work with someone else, I can call Dr. Dancer in and tell her that you would be more comfortable with a female instructor. Really, if that's what you want, I can call Dr. Dancer right now; she can reschedule you for another day with a different doctor." Gabe removed the cell phone from its clip and flipped it open.

"No, no!" blurted First Girl, "She is super tired and said she was going to bed; she has been so sweet to me; I don't want to disturb her. I guess it's okay." First Girl removed her gown and handed it to Gabe, who snapped his cell phone closed and returned it to its belt clip. He folded the examination gown and placed it on a lectern about six feet from where they were standing.

Gabe took his cell phone off his belt clip again, flipped it open and punched in two numbers. "Could we have Rachel and Rebecca come help us, please?" Gabe flipped his phone closed and explained to First Girl that she would be given an injection, nothing harmful, that would help her training go more quickly. Then she would watch a movie that would explain everything. He said that the movie would last about ten minutes.

"What's in the shot?" First Girl asked.

"It's called Torcain^®; it's kind of like adrenaline; it helps make your training more intense, so it goes much quicker." In fact, the injection contained a birth control agent as well, in case the girl did not die during the pre-harvest, and they wanted to use her again. Rachel and Rebecca came in, wearing their nurses' uniforms. Gabe pulled away the green cloth in the center of the room and told First Girl to "hop up here."

First Girl did as she was told. Rachel and Rebecca moved to one end of the table, as Gabe gently had First Girl lie back. When First Girl was lying all the way back, the two assistants reached under the table and slid padded extensions with a stainless steel snap-shut restraint sleeves at the ends. They each took one of First Girl's arms and placed them at the ends of the extensions. As soon as her wrists touched the center of the sleeves, they snapped shut.

"Dr. Gabe?" First Girl said, "Why do they have to do that?"

"Relax now," Gabe said from the foot of the table, "It's because of the injection we are going to give you; you don't want to fall, do you?"

"What?" asked First Girl, as Rachel and Rebecca slid out the extensions at the foot of the table and secured her ankles with the snap-sleeves.

Gabe inspected the restraints; satisfied that First Girl was properly secured, he waived the assistants off, pressed two buttons on his cell phone, and said, "Okay, Bonnie, we're all set here."

The room grew silent for a moment. Then, Rachel returned with a hypodermic needle and syringe and gave First Girl an injection in her arm. Almost immediately, First Girl could feel the effects of the injection. Her senses became much more acute, her sense of panic escalating.

The entire table tilted from horizontal to vertical as First Girl futilely began to struggle. A large panel on the wall she was facing lit up and the film began. There was some close-ups of Emmanuel's face, taken from news footage. First Girl didn't recognize Emmanuel's face at first. As the silent news footage continued, she realized what she was watching. She felt wave after wave of panic sweep over her, partially from the drug and partially from her recognizing Emmanuel. Suddenly, there was sound! Not high quality sound like one would expect from a production film, but the tinny on-camera sound one gets with home movies.

First Girl watched as Emmanuel began torturing a woman he had drugged and taken back to his mansion. Her deafening screams of terror and agony filled the staging area. After three or four minutes, the film suddenly stopped and a dozen klieg lights flooded the room. First Girl was consumed with terror, her senses were peaking, and she was barely able to breathe. She saw some movement to one side of her and snapped her head around to see what it was. A couple dozen men and women, dressed in street clothes, medical uniforms, business suits, and military uniforms filed into the theater seats. One woman was wearing an evening gown with sequins sparkling along its trim. It was Bonnie Dancer.

Dancer grabbed an FM microphone and exited the theater seating room and walked onto the center of the stage. She stood on the far side of First Girl and pivoted the table so First Girl was facing the theater seats. She rested her hand on First Girl's shoulder and spoke into the microphone.

"Good morning ladies and gentlemen. I'm sorry that this presentation must be conducted in the wee hours of the morn, but I know most of you have jobs you have to be at and it's a long way to anywhere from here. This girl here was a piece of trash picked up along the side of life's road. Until this point, her life has been meaningless."

Dancer looked over at First Girl's terrified face and whispered to her, "You're dong just great! I'm so proud of you." But First Girl was too frightened to understand what Dancer was saying.

"She will be our first subject. It will take approximately two dozen like her, some older, some younger, over a two-year period, to generate enough serum for our sponsor and partner, Fitzer-Rheem Pharmaceuticals, to produce enough serum for every worthy man and woman in America! This project is proof that this great nation of ours can, when we set out minds on it, accomplish nearly anything! And the key is to our success here is the cooperation of government and industry, working together to solve the great challenges of our time. What you are about to see is not pleasant. But neither is cancer. It will not be pretty, but neither are the ravages of disease. It will be bloody, but not as bloody as the horrors of war. This process will create super-soldiers, and super-statesmen, committed to bringing peace and prosperity to all."

Beaming with pride, Dancer returned to the theater room, shook hands with a few people, hugged some of the other women, and took her seat.

The Torcain^®in First Girl's body was at full force. She could feel every hair on her body; her nerves were hyper-sensitive. She did not feel delirious at all; just the opposite. She was more alert and aware of things around her than she had ever felt before.

The large flat screen monitor withdrew into the rafters, the large green curtain behind the monitor opened, and a set of double doors snapped open, revealing only a dark hallway. Suddenly, from out of the darkness came Emmanuel, naked and shiny with sweat. He looked around the stage area, walked around First Girl, and then over to the glass partition separating the theater seats from the stage. He pounded his fists on the glass, frightening the people in the seats. When they realized that they were safe from him, they all laughed off their fear and joked about the start he had given them.

Emmanuel walked over to First Girl and stood directly in front of her with his back facing the visitors; a few of the women commented to each other on his nicely shaped butt. His face less than an inch from First Girl's. "Hello," he said softly, "To get to heaven you must first go to hell. I am going to take you to hell. Right now."

He began to run his hands all over her outstretched body; First Girl screamed in terror when he roughly squeezed her breasts. Emmanuel arched his back and breathed deeply through his nostrils. "The smell, oh my God, that smell!" The sound of her scream and the smell of her fear drove him wild. He grabbed some of the instruments left on a table for him a few feet away and began to torture the girl with forceps, hemostats, and a cattle prod. The more she screamed the more wild and excited he became. When he was fully ready, he entered her vaginally and also began to strangle her. Every few minutes he would stop her strangulation to allow her to revive, and then he would begin again.

After twenty minutes of this, as he began to climax, he plunged a metal dowel into her neck, killing her. At that instant, a shot rang out. From a catwalk high in the rafters, a sharpshooter had shot a tranquilizer dart into Emmanuel's buttocks. As he collapsed, half a dozen technicians rushed into the room, quickly released First Girl's corpse from the table, returned it to it's horizontal position, and put Emmanuel onto it. He was secured with the snap-collars and a long tube was placed in an artery in his groin area. A suction device then withdrew two pints of Emmanuel's blood. The bags of blood were placed in foam-lined stainless steel carry boxes and removed from the room.

Emmanuel was transferred to a gurney, covered with a white cloth, and wheeled back down the hallway to his quarters.

The stage and instruments were cleaned up, the green cloth that had covered the table was neatly folded and draped over the lectern, and caterers wheeled in carts with triangular finger-sandwiches, cookies, bowls of fresh fruit, and silver urns of hot coffee. Dancer led the visitors onto the stage, where they looked around, inspected the torture instruments, and chatted about what they had witnessed.

"I know it is hard for some of you to deal with the loss of human life, particularly the life of such a lovely young girl, but it's important to keep this sort of thing in perspective," Dancer said, having requested the group's attention. "Suffering is a fact of life, is it not?"

Laura Vade was the first to speak. "Dr. Dancer, was it necessary to kill the girl? Couldn't you have achieved the same results without allowing Emmanuel to actually kill her? My company has received a lot of bad press over the years about the way we have treated laboratory animals in our research, and I don't think..."

"Thank you for the question, Laura; I'm glad you asked that," Bonnie began. "We considered the idea of not allowing Emmanuel to actually kill the volunteers, and we think you might be right. Maybe we could just let him torture and rape them and still achieve the same positive results. But since we are totally out of crime-scene samples, we had to be sure we had a couple of pints of fresh material for Fitzer-Rheem's lab to work on while we consider the options open to us with respect to the harvesting. The materials harvested this morning will provide ample time for us to re-evaluate our procedures in that regard."

"Dr. Dancer," a voice from the back of the group called out, "You said that the girl was a 'volunteer;' she didn't act much like she had volunteered for anything. What accounts for that?" The voice belonged to attorney Kevin Stature.

"I knew someone was going to mention that, Kevin. Thanks. Everybody, Mr. Stature is Emmanuel's attorney. To answer your question, Kevin, what you witnessed was merely the girl's reaction to the injection she was given. She was very happy to have volunteer for our project and she knew the risks involved before she started."

"Are you saying she knew she was going to be killed?" Laura Vade asked, tilting her head to one side to indicate that she thought that was not the case.

"Her release form, drawn up by Mr. Stature as a matter of fact, clearly stated that there were substantial risks associated with our experiments – risks of discomfort, injury, or even death." Dancer smiled back at Laura challengingly. "You can't make an omelet without breaking some eggs. As our premier omelet maker, Laura, I'm sure you understand that."

A Catholic Bishop from an East Coast archdiocese asked if the experiment was going to involve only girls or if boys would also be able to participate.

Kevin emitted a derisive laugh but quickly stifled himself. Dancer confirmed that they were going to be experimenting with 'a couple of boys' but thought that Emmanuel might not be as interested in them, adding rhetorically, "But it's worth a try, right?"

The Bishop looked over at Kevin. "Young man, I noticed, as I'm sure some of the others did, that you found my question humorous. Would you care to explain?"

Kevin was going to say that he found the Bishop's question very funny since he used to be an alter boy, but instead he said, "Oh, no disrespect, Father; I was just wondering how the church would stand on this whole thing, you know, as a moral question – a question of ethics." The Bishop didn't miss a beat. "As our Lord had suffered and given His blood for our Salvation, so might others sacrifice their blood and their bodies for the greater good. History is replete with examples of suffering in the name of Salvation and our faith." Nodding, Kevin had to agree with that.

Dancer decided that the conversation was going where it ought not go, so she thanked everyone for attending and reminded them that their support for the project was greatly appreciated and that each of them, and their immediate family members, would receive the life-long permanent immunization shots, once the new batch of freshly harvested serum was processed by Fitzer-Rheem. The theater lights began to dim and the huge doors to the parking lot opened; the visitors headed out of the building and into the pink desert dawn.

6- Emmanuel was still tired when he woke up. Chuck Chipwall, his main guard, explained that he had received two units of saline intravenously before bed to replenish his vascular blood volume, but that Emmanuel's red blood cell count was very low. He was told to rest and not exert himself too much. Emmanuel sipped his orange juice and nibbled on the chocolate chip cookies left for him on his bed stand.

When the remaining girls in the dorm woke up, they asked about First Girl and were delighted to learn that she had been chosen to be trained and moved to new housing. Even the girls who had not particularly liked First Girl admitted that they were pleased had been selected, as she was always so cheerful and eager to help everyone. The hosts suggested that the girls play some badminton or volleyball, and then take a swim after breakfast.

After badminton games, the hot and sweaty girls headed for the swimming pool area, but stopped short when they saw a sleek naked male figure swimming laps in the pool. "It's okay, ladies," called out Bonnie, as she headed toward the girls and the pool area, with her diet Pepsi and magazines. "It's only Kevin Stature; he's a guest here, like yourselves. He's okay; don't worry about Kevin."