Cognitive Deviance

20. Equality

"Get away from me!"

Cornering her, Gaff took the towel and threw himself down on the girl, doing his best to get it around her. Her screams grew louder as she kicked and scratched away at him, but nothing could push him away. He grabbed her hair and pulled her away from the wall, still restraining her with the towel.

"Stop it!" she sobbed, her hands gripped tightly on Gaff's arm in another failed attempt to push him away. "Let me go! Let me—"

She went silent as Gaff placed his cold metal hand over her mouth. He rose from the floor, his arms still wrapped around the girl, and forced her out of the chamber. Even with her cries muffled, she refused to hold back the tears, and they trailed down her cheeks like the freezing water her captors forced her to endure.

Braddock approached the two of them. He placed his hand on the girl's chin and lifted her head up so he could get a glimpse of the fear in her eyes, a sadistic smirk stretching across his face. "Don't worry," he said. "The men and women at the House of Pleasure will give you everything you want. As long as you give them what they want."

He took her away from Gaff, still muffling her screams. It was painfully burned into the girls' heads never to mess with Braddock. He was the leader. If he wanted something done, it would be done. Whether it was important or whether it served only to bring him and his associates satisfaction, one thing all of the girls learned in the most atrocious manner.

Braddock and Gaff went silent as they heard the sound of vehicles entering the warehouse's back garage. The cacophonous sound of the large trucks' braking to a halt pierced the air, and another Bod-Modded emerged from around the corner. "They're here," he said.

Gaff glanced back at Braddock, the ceiling lights glinting off his visor. "Take care of it," Braddock ordered before flashing the girl trapped in his arms an icy gaze. "I'll be returning this one to the others."

Then the two of them went off in opposite directions, with Gaff directed towards the garage. The first thing he saw were two large cargo trucks positioned in the middle of the room. The garage door proceeded to close, the grating sound of clanking gears filling the room. The cargo crates in the back of the trucks opened up, and out emerged multiple men and women wearing plain white masks, their eyes marked by red X's. The only one not bothering to wear a mask was Crimson, who hopped out of the crate without a care in the world. Much like the rest of the goons who came with her, a machete was strapped to her back.

"Crim-bob!" Gaff shouted as he made his way toward her.

Crimson laughed. "You're taking a big risk calling me that, y'know," she replied in a dissonantly joyful manner.

"Where's your brother and the main man?"

"They're on the way. Should be here in a few minutes." Crimson paused to glance around at the other Bod-Modders standing around the room. However, her sights were set on the cases of weaponry placed against the wall. "Is that for us?"

Gaff snapped his metal fingers. "Yep! Exactly what you came for."

Crimson turned back toward Dawson, one of her fellow masked psychos hidden among a crowd full of them. "Dawson, honey, you mind keeping watch on the other metal men in here? We wouldn't want the Man finding out about a botched deal, do we?"

"No," Dawson muttered quietly, and he walked to the front of the truck, wielding a hatchet.

Crimson turned back to Gaff. "Aww, no need for that," Gaff reassured. "We're all buddies, right, Crim-bob? There's no way this deal can end horribly."

"I hope not," Crimson replied with a smirk. "My boss absolutely hates when his plans go astray. He especially hates the people that make his plans go astray."