AN: This is a new story and it is a collaboration between HammerHips, JaspersBella, and Givemesomevamp. Updates will be slow (we're shooting for every two weeks) until the conclusion of TQR and UYS, but our excitement got the better of us, as it often does, and now you're here reading this!

Special thanks to the fuckawesome JamesRamsey, our beta-extraordinaire, yeah we know you know she's awesome!

Also, to the fan-fucking-tastic pre-reader and fanfic friend three screwed up girlies can have, Stitchcat, we love her so damn hard.

FYI) Civil war slang: Big bug-important person See the elephant: Engage in combat


September 13, 1863

I was just standing, staring at the dancing flames of the bonfire in front of me when Maria arrived back at the camp. All the moans and wails of agony were carried away by the wind along with the acrid smoke and the smell of death as I watched the bitch saunter toward me. She was fit to be tied; I could feel the fucking rage swirling around her like a typhoon, but I didn't regret my fucking decision. I spat out the excess venom that had begun to pool in my mouth from my new wave of anger and then put the steel back in my spine as she neared.

I'd followed every fucking order she'd given me without question until now, and if she chose to tear me to fucking shreds because of it, I'd go knowing that I'd held onto at least one sliver of my humanity despite her best efforts.

She approached me with her pet Javier at her side, and I stood as straight as I could with my head held high. I didn't care what she had planned for me because nothing could be worse than draining a child. I was tired of playing her fucking games for the last eight months; I had signed up to see the elephant, but not this elephant. I'd already lost everything that had made life worth living: my family, my friends, and my humanity. She'd taken my life.

Maria and her sisters had turned me into a fucking monster; a monster that could feel everything that others, monsters and innocents alike, were feeling. Not even in my skin was I my own man anymore. I was constantly surrounded by calamitous emotions: terror, hate, rage, humiliation, loss, and hopelessness. Yanked to and fro like washing hung on the line before a dust storm. Feelings ripped through me day by day and second by second, emphasized through the wails of hunger and shrieks of terror; if the feelings weren't detestable enough, I had to feel every fucking ounce of pain another felt when I took their life. It was a miracle I had survived as long as I had because the pain of death was crippling, especially with the knowledge weighing on your soul that you were the one that caused it. Every single fucking day was torture, so as she sauntered up to me, her big bug at her side, I was ready for my final death. I prayed for it; welcomed it with my stone arms wide open.

I wasn't such a fucking coward that I would have allowed one of the other newborns to rip me to shreds like many who couldn't adjust to this new hell after their initial craze ran its course; my Pop hadn't raised me yellow. There was just something in me that wouldn't ever stop fighting. Some might have called it the will to survive; some might call it grit, but I call it being a man. Now if I went out standing tall and clinging to that last bit of decency, that last shred of humanity I had clung to, then I'm alright with that.

But much as I thought I was ready for death, and as much as I fucking ached for the release I imagined would come with it, another part of me was terrified of what awaited me there; if anything awaited me at all. I was a soldier and I'd been trained to never rush head long into a situation without having a strategy, a stashed musket, some damn thing. My memories were murky and muddied from my human life though it'd not been that long ago, but I remembered my Momma; her calloused but tender hands and her words of wisdom that she always had handy whether I wanted to listen or not. Momma had taught us of a righteous and vengeful God, and I can't imagine anything I'd done in the last few months would sit right with him. Regardless, I'd face him for my comeuppance like the man I'd been and still tried to be.

Maria stopped in front of me and she waved over another half a dozen newborns, the most fierce besides me. I couldn't help the smirk that appeared on my face. I was fucking ready for her, and them. Yeah, the fighter in me might be at peace with facing his funeral pyre, but he was already choosing his tactics while picking his targets. Javier was at the top of my list: numero uno fucker. He was almost as wicked as Maria, and killing her lieutenant would definitely put a bee in her bonnet.

"Hold him."

The beast that had lain dormant within me as a human surged to the forefront, anticipating the inevitable battle. Three reached me first: two males and a female. Their names were John, Samuel, and Rebecca; they were about to die because my fighting instinct was too strong and the beast would rather kill them and damn my conscience and soul than let me die. And I cursed the beast, because I didn't want to be responsible for any more deaths while going to mine. I didn't want to feel the vicarious pain of having your head torn off your fucking body one more time. But Jasper Whitlock wasn't in control of his body anymore: the vampiric beast had smothered him, suffocated him to fill his desire to rip, tear, and kill.

Rebecca was the first to die. She was the youngest and the most straightforward with her attacks, so when she lunged for me, I dodged her, grabbing her from behind and sinking my teeth into her neck. The beast rejoiced at the metallic sound as her head separated from her body, while Jasper was overwhelmed with the physical and emotional pain.

I tossed her head into the fire as Samuel lunged at me from the side. I grabbed his arm and swung him around into the bonfire. The beast laughed as Samuel screamed in pain, watching him flail as he began burning, still whole and aware; Jasper was crying over the loss of another life lost at the hands of the beast: his beast.

John was the oldest of the three so he had the most control over his instincts. As I focused my attention on him, drowning out the screams of Samuel and the cackling laughter of that bitch, Maria; he hesitated long enough for the other three newborns and Javier to catch up to him, all of them jumping me at the same time.

I was still fighting as they took me to the ground; biting and tearing off anything I could reach. I felt the beast roar in delight as I managed to tear off Javier's hand, spitting his disgusting venom in one of the other newborn's face.

Apparently Maria had called over more newborns, because before I knew it, I was face down in the dirt, growling and still struggling.

She bent down over me and out of the corner of my eye I could see the psychotic gleam in hers as she whispered bewitchingly, "Major, I don't take kindly to insubordinance. You are an excellent fighter and you've entertained me with your little scuffle today, so I'll allow you to live. But, I think Javier needs to teach you a lesson. Javier?"

I couldn't see what was going on, but it didn't take me long to figure it out. The two newborns that were sittin on my backside and my legs moved outta the way, sitting on my ankles and yanking my legs apart while Javier ripped my trousers from my body. I registered the sound of his fingers slowly unbuttoning his own pants and the wrinkling of the fabric as he slid them from his body. Excitement and wrathful elation were pouring from him as he maneuvered around the newborns holding me down to straddle me; I was struggling harder than I ever had in my life as he began rubbing his dick on my backside.

Every muscle in my body was tense as I began panicking. I had witnessed Maria using sexual violations as a way to punish the females, but not the males; never the men. I was growling and yelling and bucking as I tried desperately to free myself. I could hear others gathering around as Maria allowed Javier to take away my pride and honor, replacing them with degradation and humiliation. Disgust.

As the others jeered him on, Javier said, "Keep struggling. I like it when you struggle, it adds to the fucking experience."

Maria laughed at his comments as he thrust into me suddenly, making me scream out in pain as I felt like I was being ripped in twain. I could feel my venom leaking freely from the fissures that he was creating with each brutal thrust, burning as they attempted to heal before being ripped open again with his movements. With every fucking thrust, he killed the hope in me; proving to me once and for all that the merciful God I'd once heard stories of, had forsaken the likes of me and it was all the better. I wanted no one else to see this.

I wanted to die and I would. How could a proud man allow himself to live after being sexually violated? The answer was simple: He couldn't and I was no different. The physical pain that consumed most of my thoughts and all of my body would end when Javier did, but the shame from being taken by another man? That stain was permanent and I couldn't live with it.

My mind began replaying the fuzzy thoughts of my human life that were locked in the deepest part of my subconscious mind as it tried to drown out what I was going through and salvage what was left of that time, that man I'd been: climbing a magnolia tree to fetch momma some flowers… braiding my sister's hair before bed-

He drove into me with more force as soon as I quieted and I felt the glee roll from him as I cried out once more, but gritted my teeth and clenched my jaw to assure it'd be the last time. I was trapped deep within my tortured mind, trying desperately to avoid the pain and humiliation of this moment; trying not to smell him, hear him, feel him, as he debased me with his actions.

The memories tried again: that romp in the back of my wagon with that girl from Georgetown… opening the orders that promoted me to Major Jasper Whitlock.

But that man was dead. I had tried so hard to be a good fucking man, to do the right thing, and it all fell apart. I had lost it all, and now that last sliver of humanity was dying a bit more with each thrust Javier made; a final death along with my pride and all that would be left was the beast.

I was tired of trying to hold onto that piece of me, trying to be the man that I was in the midst of death and destruction. I was tired of fighting against the smothering beast, the one that made me feel comfortably numb in my new life; the beast that allowed me to survive and even enjoy what I'd become. He was not responsible for this violation; it was childish to hold onto human values in a supernatural world because of my stubbornness. I was here, and here was where I wanted to die.

Fuck you, I won't let you break me, Javier.

The last sliver of Jasper Whitlock died with Javier's next painful thrust as I resigned to his pleas to put him out of his fucking misery and let him die. With that last thrust, there was a Change of Command within me and the beast, the Major, charged into battle, overshadowing everything that came before.

Something fractured within me. I could feel the energy of the beast tickling my skin all over like a feather, and it was building and churning in my stomach and in my chest. It kept growing until all the rage, anger, hate, and revenge burst from me like a balloon as a feral roar escaped from my throat.

Instead of dying, it felt like the man I was, floated out of my body. Watching everything take place, aware of what was going on, but detached from it all.

He saw the beast snap to attention within me, taking over every inch of my being. I could still feel the beast running through my body like a surge of electricity, giving it the strength it needed to fight back.

The beast's mantle had fully descended, nothing held aloft, and hell was going to follow.

I could feel my emotions spreading away from me, expanding and contracting like an easy breath, and the beast reveled in it. The growls and subsequent fights breaking out around me let me know everyone was feeling what I was feeling. Realization of this increase of power dawned on the beast as we channeled fear and terror, letting it expand from us as we watched the crowd flee; the newborns holding us down joining them.

The beast reached around and grabbed hold of Javier, jerking him from us, and rejoicing as we heard Javier's dick tear away from him as we threw his body over our head, watching him skid across the desert floor and delighting in his surge of fear.

As we stood up, we spared a glance at that bitch Maria; she was cackling wildly—we'd deal with her soon enough. We picked up his now detached dick before we stalked toward him; sweet revenge at the forefront of our mind. He was moaning and holding the spot where the tool he tried to break me with once was, his venom dripping from his remaining hand. We put our foot on his chest as we grabbed his arms and tore them from his torso slower than we normally would, reveling in his screams and feeding from his terror and pain.

He was kicking and flailing, trying to fight back, but we didn't care. We grabbed his hair and quickly flipped him over, putting his back against our chest as we growled out, "Keep strugglin' you sick fucker. We like it when you struggle; it adds to the fuckin' experience," before taking his dick and shoving it down his fucking throat, muffling his screams.

We quickly ripped his head from his shoulders and threw the rest of his body into the fire, watching it writhe and twitch as it burned. We held his cock-corked head up so he could watch as well, his eyes even wider with terror as we laughed maniacally at him.

Now for the rest of them.