Violet remembered the smell of blood and scorched flesh, shit and vomit. The screams fading to moans, the moans fading to silence. She was asleep when the fiends attacked, but she remembered waking when the squad leader screamed at them to get up, to get their guns, there were fiends, oh God they were everywhere. They were surrounded before they knew what was happening, too confused to act when one of the fiend dogs tore the squad leader's throat out.

Something connected with the back of Violet's head, and she spent the rest of the battle face down in the dirt, listening to her comrades being torn apart. She heard laughter, screams, and a man's voice, "Keep the pretty one alive! She's mine!"

She was barely conscious as her body was dragged away from the potential salvation of Camp McCarran. Her armor tore as two men hauled her over the broken asphalt and towards the El Rey Motel, exposing her skin to the uneven terrain. She was bruised and bleeding, crying and calling for her mother, still unable to make sense of her situation.

The fiends wrenched the door to the lobby open and dumped her unceremoniously on the moldy carpet. There were four of them, three men and a woman. They seemed huge from her position on her knees on the moldy carpet; they filled the room, forming a ring around her. Her heart pounded in chest as she tried to pull herself to her feet. The tallest man, wearing spiked metal armor stepped forward. His lips were pulled back in a grin, revealing broken yellow teeth filed into points.

"Wanna have some fun with Uncle Cook-Cook?" She recognized the voice as the one that had claimed her earlier. She flinched and took an unsteady step towards the door. The blow to her head had cleared her mind of anything resembling rational thought, but she recognized danger even if she couldn't name it.

"Why you leaving, Soldier Girl? The fun hasn't started yet!" The other three laughed. Violet didn't know what they were anticipating, but she wanted no part of it. She took another step towards the door, but the woman pushed her back into the center of the room. Violet stumbled and landed on her back.

Suddenly, the tall man was on top of her, tearing at the scraps of her uniform. He smelled like vomit and rotten fruit, and his weight on top of her made something in Violet's dazed mind click into place. She screamed, raking her blunt nails across the man's face. He just laughed and caught her wrists in one massive hand, easily pinning them above her head

Violet thrashed, still screaming as Cook-Cook's free hand slid under her standard-issue gray undershirt. She barely heard him ordering the others to give her something to 'shut her up,' but she saw the other two men approaching with the needle.

One of the men held her knees as Cook-Cook pressed down on her arms. The third man inserted the needle into the soft part of her arm. Tears clouded her vision as the plunger was depressed, emptying the syringe into her arm. The drug was thick and syrupy, and she shuddered as it entered her body. The other two men stood and backed away.

She had barely got her breath to scream again when Cook-Cook hit her. "Shut up!" The blow left her head ringing, and the scream broke into a whimper. He laughed. "Better." He bent to kiss her with his mouth of broken teeth. She wanted to scream, but her mouth refused to open and her limbs wouldn't move to slap his hands away from her breasts. Whatever they'd injected her with had worked quickly.

Cook-Cook broke the sloppy kiss and tore the tattered remnants of her clothes away. She shivered and gagged, screwing her eyes shut so she didn't have to watch his sooty hands exploring her body, leaving smears of filth and ash. He pushed a dirty finger inside of her, laughing when she whimpered, his mouth inches from her ear. "Like that, Soldier Girl? There's more." He began to curl and uncurl his finger before adding another. She gasped when he hit her clitoris, and then cried when he did it again and again.

He laughed the whole time, bringing her to the very edge of orgasm before he pulled his fingers out. He was breathing harder now, his eyes brighter. He cupped her breast and whispered into her ear before he began to undress himself. "I'm gonna have fun with you, Soldier Girl."

It would have been easier if Cook-Cook had taken her right away. He would have saved the horror of being exposed to the scrutiny of the other fiends while he prepared himself. The one who'd given her the injection was rubbing himself through his pants, his bloodshot eyes roaming her body. The other man was laughing to himself, mimicking her screams and cries, while the woman blew a kiss and mouthed the words "I'm next."

Violet felt the force of their stares even when Cook-Cook crouched over her, taking up her whole field of vision. He guided his dick to her seam, moaning as his head brushed her wetness. He looked directly into her eyes before he pushed himself in, savoring her misery and fear.

He was too big. He filled her up completely, and the pain of him hitting her cervix made her gasp and brought fresh tears to her eyes. If Cook-Cook saw her crying, he didn't care, because he groaned and hitched one of her legs up over her shoulder. Her breath jumped in her chest, and she felt something tear. He grinned and kissed her, increasing the speed of his thrusts.

She was sobbing senselessly by the time he finished. She barely felt him come, barely felt him climb off her, barely heard him give the woman permission to take her turn.

In comparison, the woman was gentle. She licked Cook-Cook's semen off Violet's abdomen, then teased her to a painful, wheezing climax. She pulled Violet's hands towards her breasts and sex, and tried to coax Violet into touching them of her own volition. The woman eventually gave up; contenting herself with masturbating while one of the other men wrenched Violet's jaw open and forced himself down her throat.

They didn't bother cleaning her up when they were finished with her. They gave her another dose of something from a dirty needle and dragged her to the where the dogs slept in the corner. Violet closed her eyes, and smelled the warm, familiar scent of dog. She wound her fingers through the nearest dog's greasy fur, and cried herself to sleep as a thick, warm tongue licked the tears off her checks.

Private Violet Henry was reported missing in action that evening when the bodies of her squad mates were discovered south of Camp McCarran and a subsequent search of the surrounding area failed to produce any evidence as to her location.

Lieutenant Boyd never hated the brass more than she did when they rejected her proposed search-and-rescue mission as cost-ineffective and unlikely to produce results.

Cook-Cook, not one to reuse his toys, left the next morning. Violet quickly became addicted to the chemicals the fiends pumped into her to keep her quiet. They three were amused by the novelty of the silent, sullen NCR Trooper willing to perform sexual favors in exchange for Med-X.

Four months later, she beat them all to death with a stolen pool cue after they discussed eating one of the dogs. Looking down at the bloody remnants of her former masters, Violet found a new way to quiet her hunger.

With a full belly and her dogs at her heel, Violet ran into the night, laughing hysterically to herself.