Soft lights illuminated the jagged, rocky walls. The homemade shelves with homemade pottery; the clothes made of animal skins and potato sacks; the bed made of 75 sewn-together pillows; the few comics and magazines she managed to steal from a dumpster, and a soft, thick, purple rug with green flowers that had her late mother had made for her.
On this rug was she, herself: Regina Nash. She was huddled up with Paula (her lifelong friend) and Erik (Paula's fiance.) The three of them had their backs against the bookshelf, cowering away from the door.
"We're gonna be a beautiful family." Paula whispered to Erik.
"Mmhm. Yeah. We're gonna get out of this... and we're gonna have the bestest kids." Erik whispered back, trembling with his girl in his arms.
Regina just sat there, unable to speak.
The Tunisias were coming. And from the sounds coming from outside, they were only seconds away from their d--
"CEASE OPERATIONS. REMAIN STILL." A horrifying, metallic voice boomed into the room after the door had been violently burst open. This was the line that you never wanted to hear. Anyone in the resistance would tell you: unless it was from several rooms away, the moment you hear, "cease operations, remain still," you're already done for.
Paula and Erik, however, had no intention of succumbing to the status quo.
The small, dank cave was filled with the sound of a loud CRASH, as a pile of pots and pans fell from the wall, onto the Tunisia that was standing just inside the door. These pans had fallen thanks to an expertly-timed pull of a string by Paula.
The Tunisia was not hurt or phased by this falling cookware, nor was it intended to be. It was simply to keep it distracted for a few seconds.
"FUCK OFF, BUCKO!" Erik screamed out some vague notion of a spaghetti western catchphrase as he burst out from behind the bookshelf. He wielded a scoped magnum revolver. More-or-less his entire life was spent training with this weapon, and more-or-less his entire life savings were spent maintaining it. It was all in preparation for this moment. The Tunisias, as we know, are very durable and unhurt by bullets. But what--thought Erik--about the red and blue wires spilling out of their joints? If struck, would the Tunisia be unable to move? If one spent years honing their aim, could they kill a Tunisia, and maybe even escape their capture?
Well, he didn't have time to find out, because the Tunisia had already tased him down to the purple rug before he could get his shot lined-up. The machine approached Erik, confiscated his magnum and grabbed him by the wrists and ankles, suspending him upwards. Erik was hanging by his wrists; his body dangling beneath his arms; his ankles cuffed together at the bottom. The Tunisia's arms notoriously long, he was held about eighteen inches off the ground.
Erik hung there, gasping for breath as he recovered from the shock, as a smaller, but more brightly colored Tunisia entered the room. This other Tunisia (a senior Tunisia) briefly scanned him, then applied a series of deft blades to his person. His shirt and pants split into pieces and softly landed on the floor. A particular variable in the Tunisia's brain was lit up right now, taking extra special interest in Erik. It looked down at his groin, and applied another quick set of cuts.
Regina quivered in terror, but Paula was boiling over.
"GET YOUR METAL CLAWS OFF MY MAN!" She screamed out some vague notion of a cyberpunk catchphrase as she bolted out from behind the bookshelf with a baseball bat. The bat was removed from her hand before she could swing it, as two more junior Tunisias had poured into the room. One of them grabbed, hoisted and suspended Paula in the same way as Erik, and held her up in the air just next to him. Paula could only stare in discontent, as she watched the senior Tunisia point its black little lenses at her fiance's crotch. His tighty-whities had been sliced in half and fallen to the rug; exposing his bushy pubes and uncircumcised penis. Something in the senior Tunisia must have lit up, because its body language changed once it saw that.
Paula hung there, screaming and writhing and pulling against her restraints with all of her strength, receiving not a budge of adjustment from the Tunisia restraining her. It did extend a spare appendage to tape her mouth shut, though. In the meantime, Regina had been pulled out from behind the bookshelf, and hoisted up into the same position by the third junior Tunisia in the room. The senior Tunisia stepped over, and sliced up Paula and Regina's clothes as it had Erik's.
The three teenagers hung there, naked and cold. Erik stunned and silent; Paula squirming and screaming through her tape; Regina sobbing. Regina did not lift her head or open her eyes; her tears were down to her neck. "The Tunisias finally got us!" Regina thought to herself. "I'll kill these bastard Tunisias!" Paula thought to herself. Erik didn't know what to think.
Incidentally, no one knows what these robots are called, but they have a shiny emblem on their breastplates which is kind of in the shape of Tunisia, and so they are called Tunisias.
The senior Tunisia approached Erik once again, and produced a complex, wiry and horrifying apparatus from inside itself. A clear plastic cup was placed over Erik's crotch, and lights started to go off. Regina dared not open her eyes, while Paula glared in fury. Erik simply cocked his head back and screamed as a sharp pain pummeled through his lower half.
Paula's struggling and screaming paused as she watched the clear plastic cup splatter with blood. But a second later, the cup was filled with blueish-green liquid. Erik kept screaming, and all Paula wished to do now was to hug him and tell him something encouraging, but could do neither.
Erik's screams ceased after 20 seconds. The cup drained itself of the liquid, and was removed from Erik's body.
"RELEASE." The senior Tunisia ordered the junior Tunisia holding Erik. And so, it immediately released its grip and sent the exhausted young man collapsing to the ground, his fall gracefully broken by Regina's mom's rug.
Paula looked down at him, and lost control of her breath a moment when she saw the space between his legs. His genitals had been removed, and replaced with a simple, tiny hole in the front of the groin, lined with fresh, artificially-grown skin. Paula found herself screaming into the tape even more, and struggling against her bindings even harder.
The senior Tunisia ordered the juniors to flip the young women upside down. Regina's eyes were finally forced open, and what she saw was her desk and her books, but vertically inverted. Her head was hovering above her mother's rug. Paula and Regina's hair were draped down, exposing their ears and the backs of their necks, suspended now by their ankles instead of their wrists. This new position only gave Paula cause to tug at the steel clutches even harder.
The senior Tunisia wrapped several appendages around Paula's torso and legs; forcing her at last to stay still. It then produced a needle from inside itself and delicately reached it towards Paula's backside. Specifically, her bottom. It then began to deftly tattoo a symbol into her right cheek. Everyone was familiar with this symbol, it sort of looked like a triangle inside of a star. No one was sure what the symbol meant to the alien race that coordinates all of this, but whatever it was, anyone who had it was going to be a Feedee.
"Anyone who struggles this hard and whines this much," the senior Tunisia thought to itself (sort of. Tunisias don't think in words, but whatever,) "is going to be a great Feedee."
Uninterested in applying any anesthetic, the senior Tunisia moved over to Regina, and then performed the same operation. She yelped as a needle began to pierce her. She couldn't continue to cry, she was out of energy to do so. The right-cheek of her bottom was given a symbol that sort of looked like a pair of overlapping circles: the symbol of a Feeder.
The girls were flipped back right-side up, and carted out of the room. Erik was left behind, and Paula unable to turn her neck far enough to take one last look at him. Regina's formerly sealed eyes were darting around, seeing all the carnage that had afflicted the homesteaded cave that was her community's home. She saw familiar faces (all of the faces were familiar,) all of the women and girls chained up and naked, carted along like she was. She saw her younger brother. She wanted to call out to him, but feared what might happen if she stirs up trouble. She then noticed that he was naked like everyone else, and her eyes sunk into her skull when he turned around.
"Lance..." Regina whimpered, praying that he would notice her.
Lance stood there without genitalia, just like Erik. All he had now was a tiny hole, surrounded by pale skin. He was only 10 years old, and his manhood was taken from him regardless. And no, he didn't notice her.
Paula and Regina were carted out of the cave and into the big, vast, gray skies that covered their earth. Regina had always been happy to get outside, but not this time. Her life as she knew it was over, and she was helpless to do anything about it. Paula remained furious, and determined to be the master of her own destiny. Both of the teenagers knew very well the lifestyle that was about to be thrust upon them; the disgusting, hedonistic existence that was prescribed for them. "That's going to be me, now." Regina thought to herself in pity, resigning to the fact that she would probably never see her family again. "That will never be me. NEVER." Paula thought to herself in rage.