Vast sections of the city burned out of control, each pocket of towering amber light left to devour without restraint. No-one fought the fires, the populace had other matters to concern them.

Theresa watched from a distant hilltop as the blazes created an artificial sunset on the horizon, staining the sparse cloud cover.

The ground gave a restless quiver of mourning as the amputated top floors of a skyscraper fell from a ragged concrete stump, the impact rolling out through the entire area.

A chill breeze wafted through the trees, whose dense folds and thick interlocked canopy shielded her from prying eyes. Huddling closer into her rough blankets as the icy fingers wormed through the gaps, she held her pistol close and watched dolefully as the assault continued.

The sleek midnight vessels of the alien foe hovered motionless over the crooked buildings, the opaque hulls bathed in the dull shades of light coming from the devastated city. Pounding streams of incandescent ruby energy streaked down from to shred concrete, metal and flesh amidst belching eruptions, forming an irregular heartbeat of tremors through the soil, discernible even on this far away hillock.

How many times had she watched this very scenario played out on a cinema screen? She had always laughed at the fiction because it always seemed so fake, yet when it was for real, when actual alien craft were mutilating whole cities with barrages of deadly bolts and human corpses lay strewn and deserted in the streets, then the matter was far less jovial.

How she hated the sight of those ships! They were angels of death, whenever their black and malignant visage was seen, only the fortunate were able to escape in time.

They had descended on every country like a hurricane of razors. Without warning or word they proceeded to level everything in their path. No weapon had proved even remotely effective against them and all who tried to resist were ruthlessly crushed.

What had prompted this genocide? Had the messages of friendship and curiosity hurled into the void drawn those who didn't care, or had this force merely stumbled upon their backwater planet and decided to obliterate it on a whim? Whatever the reason, they were here and it was clear they intended to leave no human alive.

Katherin strode up and knelt down beside her, obviously refusing to torment her thoughts by the distressing sight beyond. They had wandered the wilderness together, clawing survival from the debris. After having scrambled through countless blackened ruins their travels had brought them to an untouched city. It was a chance to restock, to gain some much needed supplies before heading back into the safety of the forests, but fate did not permit this.

When the attack had begun they managed to flee with four others but it seemed they alone had successfully escaped. After staggering into the treeline the implacable enemy had begun to move on foot, creating a deadly perimeter through which none could pass and any who tried were either driven back into the barrage or killed. The entire population were now fenced in by a pernicious foe showing no mercy or quarter and which was invulnerable to even the most stringent efforts to bring them harm.

"We'd best get moving, once the city falls they'll begin fanning out in the surrounding area," she knew well the tactics of their adversaries.

"Agreed." Theresa stood up, rolled her blanket into a tube and slotted it in her backpack. Her body was swollen by layers of thick clothing, doubling her size. Such things were vital, no power remained for civilian use and lighting a camp-fire for heat would swiftly draw the ravages of a strike unit. Her pack was bloated with only vital supplies and equipment, any excess would encumber, the slightest delay in reflexes could prove fatal. Her bob of chestnut hair was knotted and tangled, her delicate features smeared with soot and dirt, grooming was an obsolete consideration in this dreary time.

Threading a path deeper into the woods, the two women joined the other numbed survivors and in a loose group began to wander away from the scene. The soil still shuddered occasionally, a quake caused by a particularly savage detonation in the arena of assault, a testament to the continuing destruction.

Katherin screamed, causing the whole group to whirl, reaching for weapons or diving into cover. She was sprawled upon the grass, clawing frantically at the dirt with panicked alarm.

"Capture mine!" she yelled, straining against the thin wires encircling her legs.

Capture mines were a hazard the aliens liberally sprinkled across the land. They were undetectable and terrible: once ensnared, there was no escape.

Theresa dived forward, skidding on the dew moistened carpet, to snatch her friend's wrists. The device's tendrils were slowly slithering upwards, grasping her hips, then her chest, the animated wire tentacles hauling her towards the sunken pit.

Theresa pulled with all her strength, digging in her heels, trying to keep Katherin safe, but the mechanism was too strong. At a leaden pace she too was dragged towards the exposed hole, her boots scraping deep furrows.

"Give me some help!" she shouted but the others were not inclined to risk capture and stayed in the shadows or began to flee.

Most people knew the mines only concentrated on one target at a time, but it was not this knowledge which kept the others at bay, it was the fact the enemy responded within minutes to a capture. With the imminent arrival of the foe, the sands of their lives were trickling away.

"Theresa, please, don't let go," implored Katherin, her eyes welling with chagrin tears.

"I ... I can't ... hold ... on," she cried, her arms aching from the strain of combating the automaton's pull.

A length of wire encircled Katherin's throat, tightening into a choking hold. It was another deterrent against aid, for only when the victim was sealed in the mine would it cease this strangling embrace, fighting the mechanical beast could kill the person.

Sweat of exertion and terror began to glisten across their skin, creating a slick surface which made their hands start to slip apart. They parted millimetre by millimetre until Theresa tumbled back. She looked up and saw Katherin being drawn down, her arms clasping at every blade of grass, striving to preserve herself from the machine. With a hollow thud she fell in, her head and arms battling to keep out. Theresa could only watch with impotent shame as Katherin screamed in anguish, coils throwing themselves over her face, tugging her down.

Recovering, Theresa scampered forward but was already too late, the entrance of the buried pod was closing, the transparent panel sliding shut with a murmuring whirr. Katherin was squeezed into a ball, her face pressed against the glass surface as she fought her damning bonds.

With a flick of her wrist Theresa pulled out a knife and stabbed it to the rim, a scintillating burst spitting from the sharp connection. Trying to pry it open, seeking to find purchase and leverage, she continued to jab at the surface, the blade sparking every time and failing to even mark the dense material.

With a chorus of heavy clicks the lid locked itself and the interior began to fill with a yellow mist, an anaesthetic gas to pacify the prisoner. Theresa's blade snapped with a dull metallic tone.

Her eyelids flickering shut, Katherin descended into a somnolent coma.

Theresa closed her own eyes, the acute distress profoundly disturbing her. Katherin was gone, condemned to whatever fate the aliens held for their captives, the whole event illustrating just how tenuous was her own hold on life.

The darkness was ripped aside by a dazzling beam of white light pouring from above. Holding a hand up as a shield, she peered over the makeshift screen and was mortified to see a black silhouette blotting out the stars. With a startled shout she bolted aside, plunging into the woods, moving at a pell-mell dash, seeking to throw off any pursuit. The crackling spit of the alien weapons and the shriek of the others made itself heard over her pounding heart and panting breath, yet trying to help would only put her own life in needless jeopardy. The undergrowth clutched at her with its paws of greenery, ripping her clothing and unzipping her skin in brief cuts. When a larger obstacle contrived to trip her, she stumbled forward, increasing her bounding gait to fight off the fall and stay upright.

She continued her flight without thought, her civilised shell having been annihilated by the alien offensive, leaving only animal instincts for survival and self-preservation. The only reason she had tried to save Katherin was because they had been together from the start, she could be trusted and relied on.

When the black ships filled the skies, they learned how to survive, rescued each other from numerous hostile encounters in the havoc that followed, be it aliens or their own starving and hunted race. Katherin was the only person she could trust and now she was gone. Theresa was completely alone in a world which held only danger.

A tall form stepped from behind a tree. It was well over six feet, a slender humanoid frame sheathed in a carapace of armour. It was akin to chitin, the opaque shell which gave the aliens an unsettling insect quality and protection. An elongated curving helmet rose to an acute peak, the entire construction seamless, without eye piece or breathing filter. The persecuted human race had labelled them 'bugs', a light nickname to diminish the dread they generated and to give a name to something that had not even bothered to name itself. She had laughed when she first heard it used but then she had seen these diabolic warriors in action and all humour fell from the word.

The alien raised a gauntletted fist and from a device along its forearm, launched a bolt of sapphire light. Theresa plunged to one side, the projectile tearing a crater in the bark of the tree directly behind her.

Turning from the extra-terrestrial obstacle she continued her sprint with added maniac verve. Her chest was being crushed by a nest of cramps that squeezed her arctic lungs and occasionally skipped down her throbbing legs. Her sight began to roll in and out of focus as she pushed her exhausted body onwards, seeking only escape. A black shape moved in front and before she could react, angry pain flashed down the side of her face. The slap was greater in magnitude than any normal strike and tore her from her feet, sending her to the ground with a jarring thud.

Momentarily stunned, Theresa's senses returned in a trickle, costing her valuable moments. Aware of her predicament once more, she instantly reached for a weapon. The moment she grabbed it, a stern grip snatched the muzzle and tore it from her grasp, almost ripping her trigger finger out at the knuckle. The alien leaning over her flung the pistol away into the undergrowth and locked the fingers of its other hand about her wrist. It hauled her to her feet and swung her about in an arc which ended with her being viciously slammed into a tree trunk.

She began to sink, dazed and winded, her limbs no longer heeding the call to action. The brief crack of an energy pulse sounded and a warmth flowed through her frame. No muscle, tendon or sinew moved at her command. It was not a paralysis, more a separation from control, for she felt the rough connection as she dropped to the ground, felt the brush of a cool breeze touching the perspiration across her face as she lay twisted and supine, each rapid breath unleashing a thin cloud of fog which obscured her immobile sight.

Her assailant stepped into this frozen field of vision, looking down with a barren face. The alien was adorned differently from the others, its pauldrons and breast bearing an intricate emblem etched in crimson. It was wearing a flowing silver gilded cloak which hung down its back.

Others of its kind, unmarked by the strange additions, fell in behind, suggesting this lead figure was a leader or officer. It reached down and locked cold fingers about Theresa's throat, hoisting her up with ease. She dangled puppet-like, limbs flapping loosely at her sides, an uncomfortable ache in her neck from the suspension.

A testing shake made her jiggle limply, and then, to her horror, the commanding 'bug' lifted its other fist. From the armour of its wrist sprang a foot long serrated blade, the weapon extending along the back of its hand, poised to gut her.

Theresa wanted to close her eyes, but couldn't, her eyelids were frozen. Helpless, she watched as the razor edge slipped under the straps of her backpack and with a slash, cut them. The baggage struck the floor with a cushioned clatter, relieving some of the weight on her throat. The eager blade slotted into the base of her coat before sawing upward and down the arms. The tip hooked the material and tore away the jacket before continuing to unwrap her.

Her breathing quickened as fingers locked into the waist of her trousers, one of the aliens aiding its fellow in stripping her. A sharp tug ripped both jeans and underwear down, buttons popping free, seams parting.

Thought was scrambled by confusion and panic. Theresa prayed they not be motivated by lust, but if they were, what manner of inhuman monster lay beneath that satanic shell? The irrational thought of being violated by some bug eyed, sucker fingered reptile made a cold chill creep along her spine and insidiously affect her thoughts, so much she found herself hoping they would kill her, to spare her such a nightmare.

The cool edge of the knife slipped under her jumper and shirt, rising up, the durable fabrics parting on the keen unearthly metal like the most fine silk on a razor. The neck of her clothes opened and the weapon withdrew into the forearm sheath at some silent command from its master. The towering shape removed the last shreds and laid her down, her body still unresponsive to her despairing decrees for movement.

Its left hand closed about the opposite wrist and after a series of soft snicks and a sibilant hiss the armoured glove came away, revealing a seemingly human, slender, pale hand. The creature lowered to squat beside her, reaching out, cupping one of her breasts in its hand, the icy skin banishing the warmth her heavy clothing had kindled and preserved. The alien began to knead the soft flesh, testing it fully before checking the other. She held her breath, straining to try and move her reluctant and obstinately inert frame.

It prised open her mouth, examining her teeth before appraising the rest of her body with pinches and groping squeezes.

Theresa's fight to move or scream became all the more frantic when she felt its palm glide down her belly, her breath descending into rapid pants as fingers brushed aside her pubic hair and slid in, conducting an impromptu internal exploration.

A sedate tingle in her appendages signalled the slow climb to mobility, but other than a faint wriggling she could do nothing to escape her persecutors.

Probed and degraded, she had no clue of their intentions, only that they were far from benign.

Using both the hand in her womb and the gauntlet about her neck she was hauled up and pressed against a tree trunk. Acting without verbal instruction, two of the spectators took hold of an arm and pulled it back, stretching her naked form upon the rough bark. They each reached down and lifted an ankle, leaving her pinned to the trunk by their abnormal strength, hanging by her joints, her torso wantonly arrayed for their Lord's attentions.

The emblazoned creature stepped forward and pinched her nipples, twisting slowly, making the tender mamilla light up with pulsating waves of pain. Her emasculated features contorted into a slight grimace and her awakening larynx managed to vent a gurgling moan. Without further delay the creature stepped forward and pressed his armoured frame to hers. There was a soft pressurized whisper and, uncertain about the more intimate details of human physiology, the alien used fingers to stay aware of her vulva's precise locale. It became terribly clear that the alien was male, for his member thrust into her with such harshness that for an instant she thought he had changed his mind and plunged the blade into her. She jolted as though electrified, her indolent muscles finding fresh life against this abuse. He commenced the rape with gusto, the sharp contours of the sculpted metal scratching and chafing her skin. It was as though he were seeking to drill a path into her viscera, such was the savagery of his passion. He was not alone in his sadism, the subordinates were bending her limbs, rotating the joints to the point Theresa feared they would break her bones to sate their infernal desire to cause her pain. The molesting male snatched up her breasts, squeezing them in a vice-like grip of iron. The bare hand was infinitely weaker, testifying that their incredible strength was no innate property of whatever race they were, but an artificial product of the empowering suit. She squirmed and tried to burble her pleas for clemency, her voice still not capable of stringing together coherent syllables.

With a final volley of piercing thrusts which threatened to split her insides he finished the task, raising suspicions that he had gained fulfilment through her physical and mental suffering rather than the forced intercourse.

The aliens simultaneously released Theresa, allowing her to crumple into a loose heap and then slump onto her side. With effort she began to crawl away, limbs and insides raw from the experience.

A metal toe-cap lodged beneath her flank and flipped her like a turtle, letting her flap vainly. A forearm raised in the shadowy twilight of the wood and she feared they were now going to execute her. She expected no less because no-one had ever told tales of this passion for abuse, suggesting none who endured this predilection lived to warn others.

The glare of the weapon was joined by the now familiar sensation of delicate heat trickling through her nervous system, and once more they disconnected her from her frame.

The lead alien removed his other glove, revealing what appeared to be a signet ring on his index finger. The black gem set within the device began to glow with a soft amber sheen, displaying the raised elaborate symbol on the surface. Holding the device up to his blank face, the being must have been satisfied that it was ready for he grabbed her arm and pressed the ring to Theresa's shoulder. Searing agony lanced into the tissues, spreading out like a baneful cancer, her howls emerging as whistling sighs. The molten touch made her mind boil and, unable to give release to her shrieks, she could only listen to the sound of her skin sizzling as the stink of frying cells stung her nostrils.

The scathing ring came away, but it took long moments before the heat started to ebb. Wheezing and exhausted form the branding, Theresa was lifted up and a belt of sturdy design fixed about her waist. Restraints lay at her hips, ones that accommodated her wrists in a locked embrace before she was slung onto an armoured shoulder.

The group ferried her to a large clearing where a pulsing emerald light signalled exclusively upward, the excess radiance strobe lighting the grim warriors pacing about within the perimeter. She was not the only human present, a line of some dozen or so specimens had been gathered and bound in a similar fashion to herself, their position suggesting readiness for transport. Her bearer dropped her at one end of the display and departed. Another alien approached and slipped a long crystal rod from his belt. It began to move it over her frozen body with steady sweeps. Putting the device back, he regarded her brand and lifted a forearm. The metal bore no blade or firearm, just a strange keypad, the small buttons each marked with a convoluted circular symbol. Tapping in whatever data he had acquired, he checked a small read-out and then put his forefinger to her neck. She felt a quiver in the skin, a whistle of pressure and a soft numbness began to creep tentatively through her system, depositing a fog in her brain which lowered her slowly into a dreamless slumber.

The last thing she recalled was a dreadful shape growing in size as it descended from above, the green signal light revealing its underbelly in rhythmic pulses.

***** ***** *****

Staggering up through stifling layers of unconsciousness, Theresa became aware she was still alive. She had no idea how long she had been out, it could have been seconds, or weeks; judging by the stiffness in her limbs she was inclined to believe the latter. She tried to moisten her chapped lips with her tongue, but this was parched, the dryness accompanied by a foul chemical tang. Her body being no longer bound, she decided to sit up and investigate her surroundings. A barrier about her throat prematurely halted the move. Opening her eyes she saw only darkness, the cell being unlit. She moved her hands and conducted an assessment by touch alone, finding the metal hoop at her neck far sturdier than its wafer thin construction betrayed - despite some virulent yanks, it failed to snap. Turning her attention to her confines, she found herself sealed n a squat metal coffin, the smooth metal ceiling barely three inches from her face. It was a tiny prison, quite impermeable to her cursing cries and pounding fists, yet she could not help herself. The attacks were a reassurance she was an unwilling prisoner, one who would fight for her freedom at every given opportunity.

Laying still to preserve her strength, she traced the esoteric symbol impressed into her shoulder. The skin was still sore, the mark deep and indelible, a symbol that would surely remain with her for the rest of her days. But what did it represent? Was it a mark of her fate? Status? Property? What did the invaders want of her?

Turning from this subject, she considered her location. Was she in some Earthly fortress the aliens had established, or was she even now being carried amongst the stars, held in the hold of one of their main vessels? What could she expect of their homeworld? Was she a souvenir? An organic trinket to put in a museum or zoo to provide an example of the species they had eradicated?

The collar opened at a central, un-detected seam, springing apart and then retreating into the floor. A moment later the wall to her left began to swing upward with a smooth mechanical grace, unveiling the dimly illuminated corridor beyond.

"Leave your berths immediately," ordered a powerful, synthesized voice.

Theresa shuffled aside and lowered herself to the ground through curiosity as to her surroundings rather than fear of her captor's anger. She was initially startled by the sight of others in the process of obeying the same command, the short corridor lined on both sides with the same tiny bunks, the cells stacked five deep.

The banks of doors stopped as they levelled with the interior ceiling and began to glide into the structure, allowing unrestricted departure for all.

They were all naked and young, gathered from both genders and branded with a symbol at the shoulder. The people were timid, frightened, confused, their lack of available modesty further introducing cause for angst. The end of the corridor slid open, revealing two armoured sentinels, guards without the concealing helmet which had so far been the alien race's trademark. It was the first time any of them had ever seen the foe they had come to fear and loathe and they found them a kindred species, externally at least. Other than their greater height, they seemed to be lithe versions of themselves, with sculpted features that were pale, aloof, and possessed of an unnatural beauty. This radiant aesthetic visage was offset by their dark, slightly tapering eyes, which were cold, pitiless, without trace of emotion, wells of malevolence that made the prisoners ponder whether their captors were somehow demonic, such was the fright their very gaze inspired.

Their ears ascended to slight tips, the lobeless length dotted with a row of silvery rings. They had manes of sable black hair and each held a long pole, the tip adorned with a metal, three digit claw.

"Enter the hall," demanded the voice, and like harassed sheep the crowd obeyed, each too petrified by the ordeal of capture to resist.

The awaiting chamber was large, its boundaries formed by stark metal walls. Twin lines of soft red lights provided scant illumination by which they could just about observe the room's main features. A long sunken trough was set to one side, a descending slope on either end leading into the yellow waters which filled it to within two yards of floor height. The right side of the rectangular hall was lined with dozens of small ramps, their vertical faces barely a pace from the wall, all were dotted with open and ready restraints.

There were eight more gaunt faced guards, each armed with a pole in addition to the standard weapons incorporated into their armour.

"All prisoners will proceed to a separate station on the right." As the timid captives acquiesced, Theresa briefly wondered if the guards knew an Earth language, for none had uttered a single word in any tongue, not even their own. Were they so practised in this rite that they no longer needed to correlate their actions? Just how many people had been here before her?

Her musing were interrupted as a pair of burly men made a break for the door. The nearest guard acted with celerity, stripping away the legs of one with the haft of the pole, causing him to collapse with a stern smack. The sentinel used the head of his polearm to jab at the second rebellious human, the claws of the device opening wide and snatching hold of the man's skull before erupting with an aura of electrical energy. The victim squealed, bucking and jolting as he was lifted from his feet to hang by his tormented cranium. The ferocious discharge ended and with a swing of the staff, the claws opened and he bounced onto the floor, rolling to a halt, lazy trails of steam rising from the scorched imprint of the mechanical fingers into his hair.

The claws curled into a ball again and bright arcs began to dance along the struts. The felled captive saw the approaching source of radiance and crawled back, only to have the head jump forth, grazing his shoulder. With a howling squeak he shot away, tumbling head over heels until he struck one of the ramps. Shuddering from the shock the man remained where he was, and seeing the punishment meted out for recalcitrant behaviour, the other prisoners quickly scampered to a station.

"Kneel with your thighs pressed to the vertical surface. Lay down the length of the slope. Put your wrists and ankles into the grip of the manacles."

Reluctantly they began to comply, the pacing guards letting their weapons churn with sparks, illustrating the consequences if they failed. Theresa got to her knees and moved forward, shifting her legs apart and into the trammels at mid thigh. The open jaws snapped about them the moment they entered and with a soft hiss, slid inwards, pulling her into their tight embrace, her legs spread wide, her rear proffered for the gaoler's amusement of malicious design. She grabbed her legs in shock, but already she could barely squeeze a finger between the skin and metal. With no option, she put her ankles into the yawning fetters, the bonds clapping shut and shrinking into the floor to establish a stern hold. Draping herself down the slope, the bond at the centre closed and held her torso tightly to the cool metal. Her movements being slowly stripped away, she resigned herself as all the captives were doing and placed her temple to the base of the ramp while reaching out to slot her wrists into the bracelets awaiting her. A clank announced their closure and a soft whine preceded the establishing of a firm rein.

A few minutes passed as the more hesitant members of the throng were guided into position with harsh brutality. Once silence fell, the wall behind them erupted with sound. The noise of panels sliding back gave way to a mechanical cranking grind that drew closer and closer until the touch of metal briefly brushed her rear.

The assembly broke into shouts and shrieks, the lubricated rods parting their sphincters and sheathing in their rears. Theresa struggled and tried to force out the intruder but it drove onward with a relentless sloth. Her desire to face this torment with silent serenity vanished as a welling pressure grew within her, drawing out her tears and yowling cries. Some sort of bulb was billowing outward to seal her innards and prevent whatever they were intending to introduce from leaking out. She bucked against her bonds, her anus being terribly punished as it tried to contain this welling balloon. At the verge of ripping her open it ceased inflating, leaving a pernicious residual pounding in her rear from the presence of the wide trespasser.

A dozen mechanised pumps began to chug softly to themselves and a gurgle ran along the immersed tubes to flow unchecked into their bellies. The fluid was warm and caustic, making their intestines bellow with outrage at being filled to capacity by the flood and be doubly incensed from its burning touch. The hall filled with cries, each being subjected to this horror. The wave of liquid continued to churn onwards, engorging them all with its volume.

Howling until she was hoarse, Theresa fought to expunge the source of her woes, the swollen balloon preventing her from forcing it out, leaving her to await the reversal of the flow while jerking against her restraints and adding her voice to the symphony of pain.

When the machines eventually began to suck out the reservoir, the sentries moved in, locking the grappling head of their tools about a captive's head and relishing their distraught pleas before transforming their words into a squeal, the vehement discharge filling them with agony.

Theresa felt her pulse quicken as the wails grew closer, the guards moving methodically down the line, giving those furthest away plenty of time to meditate on their looming turn under the weapons.

The resistant males found themselves singled out for greater attention and as they begged for mercy, metal fingers grasped head, legs and genitals, pumping suffering in through every pore and nerve until they were whimpering like children.

She knew there was no point in asking for respite, they were intent only on enjoying their deeds and finding satisfaction in screams and sobbing requests. She was aiming to deny them this pleasure and with a great effort of will she remained taciturn as they finally reached her.

The legs of the metal spider took hold of her head and she screwed her eyes up, bracing for the assault. Seething power blasted through her, branching down into her body, making it break into violent paroxysms. She could not swallow her scream, the pain was just too much to stoically bear in silence. Her piercing squeal drowned out her phased thoughts and as the claw came away she sagged, the venomous emissions having stolen her vitality, leaving her enervated in her manacles as it moved onto the next hapless soul, who failed to remain mute and begged for them to show pity.