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PART 2
There was no dinner that night, nor did anyone want to eat anyway. The girls spent the night talking among themselves in low, frightened tones, asking each other same questions over and over. Was the whole thing just a sham in order to provoke one of the girls and then execute her as a lesson for others? Who was De La Peña and what did he want? What was to become of them in the future? No one knew the answers, and so the girls ended up doing what they usually did at night. While the more prudish (or the more tired) of them slept, the rest gave each other that special kind of comfort, which compensated for the lack of male companionship.
Next morning brought a fresh surprise. The prisoners were ordered to shower again, this time with each shift afforded a full twenty minutes in the shower room. The girls were told that, from now on, the bathtime would be an obligatory part of each day, and moreover, they were commanded to brush their teeth. A surly Gualtiero, who had to get up early to get the boiler going, distributed toothbrushes and little tubes of toothpaste.
After the morning toilet was over, the girls were marched to the Canteen for breakfast. The furniture was back to its customary place
After the morning toilet was over, the girls were marched to the Canteen for breakfast. The tables and chairs were back; but instead of the usual two long rows, the furniture was arranged into three shorter rows: two along the walls and one in the middle. The far portion of the room was emptied out and made into a separate area, the purpose of which had nothing to do with eating. It took only one glance to understand what the newly cleared space was for: at one end of it hung the bodies of Ramona and Leonor.
Apparently, the yesterday’s brutal lesson wasn't over yet.
The executed women were left to dangle overnight in the same position in which they died. The corpses had changed since yesterday; they looked rather like a pair of monstrous cartoonish dolls. Their necks were stretched impossibly long; their legs and stomachs were swollen; the skin had become purplish and mottled spots. Black blood pooled in their hands, feet, and the lower parts of their breasts. One could only guess what was hidden behind the featureless black plastic that covered the faces.
The prisoners stared at the bodies, unable to move. Everyone was thinking, "One of these horrible things could’ve been me." The pause lasted a long time. After the impression sank in well, the girls were made to sit at the tables and a surprisingly large breakfast was laid out in front of them. Nadia doubted that she could make herself eat in full view of the corpses; but when she saw the food she realized that she was ravenous. So were all the other girls, who wolfed down the breakfast in a record time.
When the breakfast was over, the door opened right on cue to let in the tall figure of the Commandant. "Stand up!" yelled Tatiana at the prisoners. The girls jumped to their feet. "Five-rows formation! Now!" screamed Tatiana. "Move it! Move your lazy asses!"
There was only one spot large enough for such formation: the empty area in front of the hanging bodies. Under a constant stream of abuse the girls arranged themselves into five rows – this time in a reverse alphabetical order, so Nadia ended up in the first row. The Commandant placed himself right before her, and, without preamble, started to talk.
It was the second installment of yesterday's speech – the same demands of sacrifice, promises of hard work, and condemnation of enemies, interspersed with pearls of wisdom from General Vilareal. The prisoners listened attentively. No matter how long the speech was going to be, no one dared to utter a single word.
Eventually, the Commandant got around to Santa Margarita and its inhabitants.
"You are here because you committed serious offenses against the society," he told the prisoners, "But this does not mean that you cannot pay your debts. You can still serve the society by participating in the war effort, and I don't mean sewing. You will play a more important role in the future. This is all I will say for now; details will be communicated in the due time. In order for you to perform you new tasks adequately, you will be kept clean, well-fed, and healthy; but your privileges come with responsibilities, and chief among them is maintaining strict discipline. All violators, without exception, will be severely punished." The Commandant didn't have to say what he meant by severe punishment: right behind his back were two grizzly illustrations. "Among prohibited activities," he continued, "are the treasonous or otherwise disloyal statements, any criticism of General Vilareal or other high officials, disobedience toward a guard or a Warden, ownership of forbidden items, unnatural carnality, theft of government property, violations of prison regime, and so forth. The complete list of prohibited activities is posted outside the Commandant's office. Furthermore—"
"But sir," Nadia blurted out without thinking, "We are not allowed to go anywhere near..." She sputtered and came to a full stop as she realized what she'd done.
De La Peña gave her a cold stare.
"What's your name?"
"Nadia Serna," whispered Nadia.
"Prisoner Serna, interrupting your correctional officer is forbidden under Rule 18."
Nadia could already see herself swinging next to Ramona and Leonor. She felt her bladder relax; warm liquid trickled lazily down her thighs. Her comrades stared at her with horrified expressions.
The Captain noticed none of that. His eyes never left Nadia’s face. "Violation of Rule 18 is punished by hanging," he told her, "However, as this is your first offense, I am letting you off with a warning." And he was back to his speech, picking up where he left off. The incident was over.
"I thought you were a goner," said Katia later. She and Nadia sat across from each other in the prison’s shabby basement workshop, operating antiquated sewing machines. All around them, laid piles of thick, itchy fabric pre-cut into shapes by other prisoners. Katia’s and Nadia’s job was to sew these pieces into a crude approximation of male underthings, while the other girls – those not busy cutting – used slightly sturdier machines to make camouflage pants and coats. The work, though not hard, was mind-numbingly dull, so the girls alleviated boredom by chatting. There was even some degree of privacy here, made possible by the general level of noise.
"Oh please," replied Nadia, "Not you too! It took me hours to recover, and remarks such as this are not helping. Let's not talk about executions."
"Fine. Let's talk about something else." Katia shrugged. "I am open to suggestions."
"Any new gossip about sex?"
"As a matter of fact, yes. Elena and Fat Kat are back together, or so I heard. And Julia has to find someone new, now that Ramona Portillo is... oh, sorry." Katia winced.
"That's all right. I am better now," assured her Nadia. In truth, she wasn’t better at all. She desperately needed to change the subject. "Let's get back to sex. Have you ever thought about how sexy our work is?" she asked out of the blue.
Katia arched her eyebrows. "Our work?"
"Yes. We make underwear for soldiers. Think of it: underwear! Take this, for example—" Nadia lifted a piece of fabric, "—In the very near future it will hold some young soldier's dick." She wrapped the fabric around her finger to illustrate.
Katia took the wrapped finger to her lips and kissed it lightly. "Ah, sweet, young dick..." she sighed. Suddenly, she giggled.
"What's so funny?" asked Nadia crossly.
"These guys... in the Army..." said Katia between the giggles, "They are just as sexually deprived as we are. Imagine what they’d say if they knew that their underpants were made by a couple of naked girls! I so want to see the expressions on their faces!" She stopped laughing abruptly and looked forlorn. "I really do want to see…"
"Oh, come on, we are not that deprived," comforted her Nadia. "We have each other."
"I mean no disrespect," answered Katia grumpily, "What we do is very nice and sweet. But our little games can't be compared to playing with a real dick."
"What about the guards?"
"Oh no, that's even worse! Not only doesn't this count, but... Oh, you just had to bring up the guards! Why did you have to do it? Did you forget that tonight is my turn?"
It was Nadia’s turn to wince. "I am very, very sorry. I won't mention it again."
Katia grumbled something in response, but her answer was covered by the oscillating hum of sewing machines.
The dinner was quite generous – it even included some meat. For the first time in years, Nadia felt truly sated. Her mood improved; later in the evening, lying in bed, she reflected that this wasn't such a bad day, considering. True, she had a bad fright, but neither De La Peña, not the Warden had shown themselves since the morning, and if she kept out of their way and kept her mouth shut, she would be okay. She smiled to herself and turned to listen to what others were talking about.
The dorm room was abuzz with girl-chatter. It always was this time of night, but today the talk was livelier than usual. Almost everyone had something to say.
"I haven't had chicken since I was arrested," shared Juana Diaz, whose bed was next to Nadia's.
"Fresh avocados! Can you imagine?" replied someone on the far end of the room. "Why did they start feeding us like that, anyway?"
"I know why," said Estela Garrido. "The bitch told me when I was working in the kitchen. She said that this is no longer a prison but a cattle farm! She said they are going to fatten us, and then they'll slaughter us for meat. You know, to feed the soldiers. More food for the war effort, like the man said."
Her words were met with horrified silence. She held a pause, then laughed. "Ha-ha-ha! Got you!"
"Not funny!" said several voices.
"Oh, come on, don’t be so uptight," told them Estela, "Stop taking everything so seriously. You gotta work on your sense of humor; otherwise you won’t survive in prison for long. I know what I am talking about," she added wisely, "I’ve been in and out of prison for most of my life."
This was true. Estela, in her previous life, was a high-class prostitute, and her rap sheet was a mile long. She liked to call herself the only real criminal in Santa Margarita. She was not connected to any of the factions, and so wasn’t arrested for political reasons; she simply was with a wrong client at a wrong time. She was a curvy, lush brunette with cynical eyes and absolutely no inhibitions; a bit past her prime but still oozing sex from every pore. Estella loved to entertain the girls with her war stories, often startling even the most experienced of them with her descriptions of rare forms and methods of physical love.
"The cannibal jokes are not funny," insisted young Ana Salvador, who was so prim and proper that she always refused even to experiment with another woman.
"Whatever you say, honey."
Estella stretched on the bed, put her hands on each of her breasts, and casually rubbed her nipples. "Big dinners make me horny," she announced to the world. She looked at Julia Perez. "Hey, Julia, wanna fuck? I hear your girlfriend has kicked the bucket."
"Shut up!" replied Julia angrily.
"Oh please. Don't go all tragic on me. You have a very simple choice – either you fuck me, or you can go up to the Canteen and try to fuck what’s left of your dear Ramona."
Julia began to cry.
"So which of us it’s gonna be?" asked Estella, calmly cleaning her nails.
"You are nasty!" accused Ana.
"Guilty as charged," agreed Estella, "But I am also cute and sexy as hell."
"If you are so horny," Katia spoke up, "Why don't you replace me tonight with the guard?"
Estella shook her head. "I may be horny but I am not masochistic. By the way, where is your lover du jour?"
At exactly that moment, there was a sound of uncertain steps behind the dorm door and a slurred male voice called, "Hello-o-o, my whores! Guess who's gonna guard you tonight!"
"I suppose, this answers my question," smirked Estella.
The door opened to admit Ignacio Escobar. He was a bald, big-bellied man, a father of four, and the oldest guard at Santa Margarita. Ignacio was a reasonably nice man when he was sober… but now he was roaring drunk.
He turned his head from side to side. In one hand he held a bottle of brandy. "So, who is gonna be my bitch for today?"
Several girls quickly pointed at Katia, who sighed, got up from the bed reluctantly, and came forward.
"Not bad," said Ignacio, looking her over. "I see you took off you clothes already. I like it when they are eager and ready."
"Where would you like it, sir?" asked Katia.
There were really only two choices. The guards could fuck the prisoners as much as they wanted, but there was an unwritten rule: if they got any of the girls pregnant, they would be instantly dismissed or worse. This was why all guards limited their interactions with the prisoners to either oral or anal sex. With Ignacio though, the choice was always the same.
"Turn around. I’ll stick it up your ass."
Katia spinned on her heals and leaned forward, presenting him with her open buttocks. Ignacio pulled down his pants and, turning left and right, triumphantly demonstrated to the girls his already erect cock. He then placed himself right behind Katia and put his cock against her butt hole. Before he started, he gulped one big swallow from his bottle and poured the rest of the brandy into Katia's crack to lubricate his entry. He tossed the empty bottle onto someone’s bed, took hold of Katia's hips, and pushed.
Brandy must have been a poor choice of lubricant, because Katia's ass did not admit him at first. Ignoring Katia’s moans of pain, he pushed stronger and stronger, until his cock’s head had penetrated her sphincter. He stopped to wink at his audience; then, with a powerful movement of his bulky torso, he shoved his cock all the way in.
Katia screamed.
For the next ten minutes Ignacio was pumping away at Katia’s ass. The whole of her body, together with the bedpost she held on to, shook rhythmically in tact with his thrusts. As his passions rose, he started to pinch and slap her mercilessly, enjoying the sounds of her distress. His favorite targets were Katia’s buttocks; he kept slamming his fists into their softness, treating Katia’s tender flesh as if it were a punching bag. To get him off as fast as possible, Katia tightened her sphincter muscles, using all her remaining strength to squeeze his cock. This worked: soon Ignacio was jerking spasmodically, filling Katia’s asshole with seed. One last slap and he withdrew. He turned around and staggered away with not so much as a last glance at Katia. He reached a cot near the door, yawned loudly, and stretched on top of it. Soon, he was sound asleep.
Walking slowly and stiffly, Katia dragged herself to her bed and fell onto her stomach. Her face was hidden, but her shoulders shook silently. She was crying into her pillow.
Nadia came over to Katia's bed and sat on the edge. There were bruises all over Katia's body; her buttocks were swollen and bright-red. Nadia lowered her face close to Katia's bottom and gently spread the cheeks. Nadia looked at Katia's little hole, rubbed raw and still half-open, and blew on it gently to cool it down.
"This feels good," whispered Katia.
Nadia lowered her head a bit further and swabbed her tongue around the opening, licking off brandy mixed with Ignacio’s cum. Katia moaned, partly with pain but also with pleasure. Encouraged, Nadia licked some more, then inserted a finger into her friend's other hole. She touched the clit, and Katia’s cries became pure delight.
Keeping her face buried in Katia’s crack, Nadia finger-fucked her friend vigorously. She used her other hand for her own stimulation. Katia’s voice was getting louder; and it was answered by echo, which seemed to be coming from every direction at once. Nadia lifted her head and saw a dozen of other couples going at each other all around them, adding their voices to the growing chorus of orgasms.
Nadia smiled at the view and returned to the business at hand.
An hour later, the girls were on the edge of exhaustion. Katia kissed the last of her own pussy juice off Nadia's face and smiled timidly. "Maybe we’ve had enough for today."
"No!" protested Nadia, "I am not ready to stop yet!" She was betrayed by a wide yawn.
"But I am still sore," said Katia, "Besides; almost everyone is back to their beds."
Nadia looked around. Only two couples were still busy making love. On the next bed were Elena Castro and Catherina Alvarez, entwined in the 69 position; and a bit further away, Teresa Covas sat on Carmen Lozano's face and poked Carmen’s pussy with a length of plastic pipe.
"It’s getting late," Nadia agreed reluctantly. "But promise me that we'll pick up tomorrow just where we left off."
Katia's smile widened. "I promise."
Nadia slid off her friend's bed and climbed onto her own. Her pussy was throbbing with pleasant memories of her friend’s tongue, so she couldn’t fall asleep that easily. She laid her head on the pillow and allowed herself to feel tired. She closed her eyes.
Suddenly, the doors burst open; the room was flooded with bright light. Nadia opened her eyes, and was instantly blinded. There was a sound of running boots and a series of crushes.
"Got them!" exclaimed Tatiana’s voice merrily. "I told you we’d find some."
Shielding her face from the glare, Nadia opened her eyes a crack. Tatiana was talking to Captain De La Peña, who stood there in full uniform, looking even sterner than usual. Between them, four girls lay face down on the floor. They were Elena, Catherina, Teresa, and Carmen – the two couples who were making love only a minute ago.
"Tie them up," ordered De La Peña the guards, "And you," he addressed the rest of the prisoners, "You make the formation."
He glowered as the girls arranged themselves in neat rows. Without waiting for them to assemble in full, he spoke.
"These prisoners —" he pointed with his finger, "—were found in the middle of engaging in a variety of homosexual acts. Unnatural sexual relationships are strictly prohibited under Rule 3. This behavior is punishable with death by hanging, to be administered immediately."
Teresa, the youngest of the four, cried out in terror. She got kicked in the ribs.
"Sergeant Velez, I authorize you to proceed with the hangings," said the Captain.
"Hey, Boss," said Tatiana. "We can’t hang them here in the dorm – there is nothing to tie a rope on. And we can’t hang them in the Canteen because there is no light there at night. We could hang them outside, from a tree or from the roof cornice; but we need the other bitches to watch the execution, and letting them out at this hour is a major security risk."
De La Peña nodded. "You are right, Sergeant. It’s an oversight on my part. Eventually, we will need to build real gallows; but today the condemned will have to wait until morning…"
"Permission to speak, Sir," piped in Bianca Vea.
"Go ahead."
"We could hang them in the showers. Sir."
"Damn!" exclaimed Tatiana, "You are right!"
"Well done, Vea," said the Captain. Bianca brightened.
"We’ll make an executioner out of you yet," congratulated her Tatiana.
The Commandant straightened. "Now listen to my orders. Velez, Santana: escort the condemned prisoners to the shower room and prepare them for execution. Vea and everyone else: round up the others and follow Velez."
The four girls were taken away. The rest of the company filed out of the door after them, under the watchful eyes of the guards. Only one man had remained behind: the forgotten Ignacio Escobar, who was still sleeping on his cot as though nothing had happened.
Twenty minutes later, everyone was gathered the shower room. The audience was crowded together in a tight semicircle, at the focus of which stood Elena, Catherina, Teresa, and Carmen. The condemned girls were placed in a row along the wall, each under her own shower head. Their feet rested on top of low blocks of wood, and their arms were held at the sides by loops of rope that went below the breasts and across the stomach. Their backs were pressed against the wall’s cold ceramic tiles.
If the purpose was to root out homosexuality, the authorities did extremely well. Elena "The Dyke" Castro was the prison's only Lesbian, and her old flame Catherina "Fat Kat" Alvarez was one of only three bisexuals.
Elena, the older one, was the couple's dominant partner. She was tall, thin to the point of desiccation, and virtually breastless; her bony bespectacled face could've belonged to a schoolteacher. The girls who tried it said that Elena had a long and flexible tongue, which felt very nice in right places.
Fat Kat was Elena's opposite: she was short and fleshy, with hanging breasts and a soft, perfectly round butt. Her face was round, too, and almost as soft. After months of prison life, Fat Kat had lost a lot of weight but was still heavy enough to warrant her nickname.
Even though they were minutes from death, Elena and Catherina could not take their eyes off each other. Nadia was touched by their love for each other; but for the new regime it was apparently an evil to be destroyed on the spot.
Teresa Covas and Carmen Lozano, the other two girls to be hanged tonight, were as much alike as Elena and Catherina were different. They were both quite young – Teresa was nineteen and Carmen only two years older – and very pretty. Both were about the same height; both had long black hair, brown eyes, and cute, perky breasts. Teresa's face was almost childlike in its innocence, while Carmen looked a bit more mature but still younger than her real age. Neither of them was Lesbian or even bisexual; the only thing that drove them into each other's arms was curiosity enhanced by the lack of a suitable male company. They were like nearly every other girl in this facility, and other girls could not help but see their own reflections. Nadia shuddered when she thought how close she and her beloved Katia came to sharing the same fate.
Bianca Vea finished counting the prisoners and declared, "Everything is ready!"
Elena threw an encouraging glance at her lover, and Catherina smiled back weakly. The younger girls, who were not nearly as brave, started sniveling.
"Great," responded Tatiana. She gave the condemned women an appraising look and then said, "We'll hang the uglies first."
At Tatiana’s sign, Ines Santana took out a black plastic bag and placed it over Elena’s head. She tied a noose around Elena's neck and adjusted the knot, then leaped on a stool, picked up the other end of the rope, and pulled it so far upward that poor Elena was forced to stand on her toes. Apparently, this was a teachable moment, because Santana paused to point something out for her younger comrade’s benefit. Bianca nodded her understanding, and Santana, satisfied, jumped to the floor. She made few last checks, and then, without any ceremony, pulled away the wooden block under Elena’s feet.
The hanged woman dropped a quarter of an inch, but there was no other visible reaction at first. The rope bit deeply into Elena’s neck, but otherwise, little had changed. It was as though Elena still stood on top of some invisible but firm object. After a few seconds of this, Elena tentatively moved her foot forward. She lifted it up, higher and higher, until she froze, as if poised to take a long step. Instead, she let the foot drop, her heel kicking the wall behind. After a pause, Elena repeated the same move with the other foot. She did several such "steps," going faster every time but remaining firmly in place. She paused again, made fists with her bound hands, and slowly raised both feet at once. With her ass pushing against the wall, Elena extended her legs and held them almost parallel to the ground. Then, unable to keep it up for long, she brought the outstretched limbs down with all her force. The impact shook her body all over and made the old shower pipe creak with tension.
Every Elena’s move was followed by dozens of eyes. Even Carmen and Teresa, though their faces were with terror, could not resist looking at their near future. Only Elena’s girlfriend Catherina purposefully stared in the opposite direction.
Everyone was deathly silent, and at first, the only sounds in the room were the creaks of the pipe and the slaps of bare flesh against the tiles. But Tatiana could not remain silent for long. She began snickering, then openly laughing. She provided running commentary in loud stage whisper. "It takes you longer to croak if you are hanged against a wall," she explained to no one in particular, "Especially if you are a girl."
Elena lifted her knees to the stomach and Tatiana hooted. "Naughty, naughty! I can see all the way into your cunt." Elena spread her knees apart as far as they would go. A tremor went through her body; one could see her vaginal muscles spasm.
"Hey, doesn’t this chick look like she is being fucked?" called Tatiana as though she just made an amazing discovery. "The whore even shakes her ass as though she is sitting on a cock." Tatiana cackled as if she said something funny. No one joined her. Unfazed, she continued, "You know, I was fucked like this recently. Doesn’t matter by whom. The man lifted my ass, pinned me against a wall, and pushed his cock inside. He even choked me a little. You can say I felt what this whore feel right now," Tatiana flicked a finger in Elena’s direction, "Except that I felt less pressure in my neck area and more pressure inside my cunt, he-he-he!"
"Stop it!" Captain De La Peña interrupted sharply. "Sergeant, you are drunk!"
"I am not!" protested Tatiana.
"Sir!" interrupted them Santana. "The first one is done, sir!"
This seemed to be true. Elena hung motionlessly at last, straight as a pole. Tatiana went to check the pulse and confirm the death. A strange expression passed through Tatiana’s face as she touched the dead woman’s hand, something that looked like a strange mixture of revulsion and delight. But as soon as the expression appeared, it was gone.
"This one is finished," Tatiana announced. "The fat one is the next to go."
Catherina Alvarez underwent the hooding and noosing ritual without looking at anyone or making a sound. In her mind, she was already hung. Only when she felt the support slip from under her feet, she gave a small cry. This was the last sound she ever made, as her throat had closed forever.
Fat Kat intended to hang peacefully but her body had other ideas. The woman started squirming in the noose; she lifted one shoulder and another, trying to free her hands; but she only succeeded in rubbing her butt and shoulder blades against the tiles. She twisted and kicked her feet, causing her heavy breasts to sway from side to side. Then she bent her knees and arched her back, bringing her hips so far forward that she touched the wall only with her heels. She let go and crashed into the wall with a thunderous slapping noise.
"The fat one is pretty lively," said Tatiana. "She is so heavy, I thought she would be dead by now."
But Catherina was far from being dead. She arched her back once more, this time even further than before. The rope that held her neck tightened to the limit. There was another loud slap as Catherina’s body smashed into the tiles. Her ample buttocks served as springs, causing the body to bounce off and turn around in the air. She made a full 180 degrees and slammed into the wall again, her breasts and stomach taking the brunt of the impact.
"The bitch looks as if she was spanked with a steel paddle," observed Tatiana.
Now that Catherina had turned away from them, the girls could see that her back and buttocks were purple and blue with bruises. Fat Kat’s big ass was lumpy and swollen, and looked even bigger.
"Nice spanking!" said Tatiana. "And she did it all herself. Isn’t hanging them against the wall grand?" She laughed even louder than before, despite the sharp glances from her commander. Apparently, Tatiana was one of those people who found executions hilarious.
Catherina continued to struggle in the noose, flopping and floundering, rubbing her breasts on the tiles, kicking feebly the hard surface with her knees and toes. It was taking her a long time to expire. Nadia wished someone would put the woman out of her misery, but after the incident the other day when Bianca was forced to drink Ramona Portillo’s pee, none of the Wardens were eager to volunteer and the Captain was unwilling to order them. So no one did anything until Catherina ceased to move and hung still.
Tatiana made sure that hanged woman was properly asphyxiated. Everything seemed to be in order, and the Sergeant stepped over to the next victim. Carmen Lozano was to hang next. She cried and pleaded so piteously that she had to be gagged. Then she was hooded and noosed in rapid succession, and the block was kicked away from under her feet. Less than thirty seconds after the beginning of her preparations, Carmen was dancing in the air.
Perhaps it was the girl’s youthful strength, or perhaps Bianca did not do a good job on tying the prisoners, but Carmen freed her hands almost right away. Immediately, she started to claw at her throat. Of course, this had accomplished nothing because, within seconds, the rope had dug so deeply into her neck that was impossible to get even a fingernail under the constricting loop. After much prying and scratching, Carmen gave up let her hands fall away from the neck.
But she did not keep them idle. She slapped her sides or punched the empty air; at one point she even grabbed her knees and hung for a while in a sitting position. As Carmen’s desperation grew, her dance intensified. She bent her spine every which way. One moment, she spread her legs far apart; the next, she twisted them around each other. Then she began to kick irregularly, every once in a while hitting the wall with her heels. One of such kicks sent her body swaying broadly from side to side.
When no one thought it could get any worse for the hanging girl, something unexpected happened. One of Carmen’s flailing arms hit a faucet handle which controlled the shower. The shower head came to life and began to spout powerful jets onto the body underneath it. The girl was instantly soaked. Water drummed on top of the plastic hood; it landed on the shoulders and streamed down the stomach and the sides; it sprung from fingers and toes, dripped from breasts and thighs, and finally fell to the floor. Carmen moved even faster, as if she was in greater agony than before. She sprayed the naked bodies of the nearest prisoners, who instinctively recoiled: the water was hot! Blistering hot water, straight from the boiler, was running down the hanging girl’s body, covering her with gleaming film. Carmen shook and twisted in pain; her skin was quickly changing color. She turned the brightest shade of red, an unpleasant hue reminiscent of boiled lobsters. The body had begun to steam, and soon was obscured by billowing white clouds. It was impossible to see what was happening behind them.
After a long interval – too long – the Captain ordered it to stop. Stepping carefully over hot puddles on the floor, Ines Santana approached the dead girl. She turned off the water. The clouds quickly dissipated and Carmen’s body came into view. Nadia could not believe that this grotesque, dripping-wet thing with curled fingers and toes only recently was a beautiful young girl.
Santana touched Carmen's breast and immediately withdrew her hand. "Ow! That burns!"
Tatiana laughed her macabre laugh. "The bitch is not only hanged, but cooked as well. Well, at least there is no need to wash the body."
De La Peña caught Tatiana’s eye and tapped meaningfully on his watch. "Let’s move on," she said quickly, " Three down, one to go. Or should I say, three up? Ha-ha-ha! Umm…"
She walked over to the last condemned girl. Teresa Covas was shaking with fear; her teeth were audibly clattering. Tatiana took Teresa's hand, and the girl pressed herself against the wall.
"Don't worry, I won't bite," said Tatiana, "I’ll hang you but I won't bite. My boss wants to hurry up, so I’ll give you a piece of advice. You saw what happened to your girlfriend?"
Teresa nodded weakly.
"So here's my advice," Tatiana went on, putting the hood on girl’s head and tying the noose around her neck. "If you don’t want to end up like your friend here, be a good girl and don't try anything funny. Being hung is not that bad, but just like with any other physical activity, you have to learn how to do it right. You have to behave yourself and not make any sudden moves. Don’t try to fight the rope, you won’t win. All that's going happen is that you’ll be a bit uncomfortable at first, then you’ll simply go to sleep. That’s all there is to it. Understand? Good! Now away with you."
With these words Tatiana removed the stacked wooden planks that Teresa stood on.
The girl took her executioner's advice seriously. For ten seconds or more, she hung without even moving a finger, waiting for the promised sleep. But it was increasingly hard for her to resist the body’s natural reactions, and finally the reflexes took over. Teresa kicked the thin air in front of her, tentatively at first. Her second kick was much stronger. The noose continued its work, and Teresa kicked the third time, giving it all she had…
There was a loud crack like a gunshot, followed a fraction of a second later by more cracks and the groan of metal. Something fell to the floor with explosive noise.
"Oh, crap!" shouted Tatiana.
"Sorry," said Bianca. "I didn't know these things were so weak."
Teresa’s last kick was too much for the metal pipe she hung on. Plaster crumbled; tiles cracked and fell off; and the bolts that kept the pipe in place were yanked out of their sockets. Forced to bear the weight of a body, the pipe was pulled right out of the wall. It bent considerably downward, making the shower head four inches lower. Teresa was no longer hanging but stood, just barely, on the tips of her toes.
The girl’s breasts, shoulders, and hooded head were white with powdered plaster; shards of shattered tiles lay at her feet. Her chest was rising and falling; she could breathe now, albeit only with great difficulty – each time she inhaled or exhaled her throat produced a gurgling sound. She strained every muscle, raising herself up, working very hard on being as tall as possible.
Her hood no longer fit snugly around her skull; the slippery plastic had escaped in places from under a slackened noose. One such place was in front, where the edge of the hood was pulled back high enough to reveal Teresa's open mouth, which was distorted by a grimace of fear and pain but also relief.
Ines Santana shrugged. "It's just plumbing, not real gallows," she said, "Oh well; I guess we'll have to hang the bitch the second time."
"No time," said the Captain, who hadn't spoken so far. "The prisoners have to be back in their beds. Hold on, let me inspect something first."
He approached Teresa but paid no attention to the girl. Instead, he pulled on the exposed pipe above her head. The pipe did not budge; apparently, it was extended as far as it would ever go.
"Good," said De La Peña.
He turned his back to Teresa and announced loudly, "The show is over. Everyone, out!"
"Wait, shouldn’t we hang her again? Perhaps on a tree outside?" asked Tatiana.
"She is not going anywhere," replied the Captain quietly. Then, shouting at the prisoners, "Now move it! Don't crowd near the exits!"
Behind the Captain, Teresa stepped from foot to foot, trying to maintain her precarious balance. To lose footing in her position meant death. She attempted to speak but all that came out from her mouth was, "Gghhhh...Ghhrlm..." No one listened to her.
De La Peña was the last to leave. He made sure all the prisoners were out of the room and no one was hiding in any nooks or crannies – not that the shower room had many of those. He made a mental check of everything in the room, then glanced at three executed prisoners and one living girl, who desperately fought to keep standing on her toes. "This is extremely unprofessional," he muttered to himself. "I need to build us real gallows." He turned off the lights; then closed and locked the door, leaving poor Teresa Covas totally alone in absolute darkness.
Next morning the prisoners were rounded up and, in what had already become a familiar routine, sent to the showers. Nadia had been assigned to the earliest shift, so she was one of the first people to enter the shower room.
All the evidence of yesterday's quadruple execution was still in place. Three corpses hung from shower heads along the opposite wall. One of them had red-brick skin caused by hot water; another, a plump one, was facing the wall. Their feet were perhaps a bit closer to the floor but still far enough not to touch it.
Next to the three hanging figures was the fourth, which stood upright. The girl’s mouth, still visible below the black hood, was now closed. Her teeth were clenched tight, but her lips were parted somewhat in what appeared to be a half-grin. She no longer danced on her toes but stood rigidly, with her feet planted firmly on the ground. The noose slid up the length the girl’s throat and was attached just under the base of the skull. The pull of the rope and the squeeze of the noose were so strong that the neck was elongated to twice its former length and appeared to be cone-shaped. The girl’s head was tilted to the side at a sharp angle, one cheek resting against taut rope. The rope was the only thing that kept the body in the vertical position, as the girl had been dead for hours. She was as good as hanged.
There were gasps, as more prisoners entered the room. The reality of yesterday’s events was brought home in the most brutal way possible. The girls stared at the scene, frozen in their immobility; no one dared to approach the showers. It was Estela Garrido, the former prostitute, who broke the impasse. Last to appear through the doors, she brushed past Nadia and walked forward without a slightest hesitation. She selected a shower stall right next to dead Teresa Covas, turned on the shower, and began to lather herself nonchalantly.
"Come on in," she beckoned to other prisoners, "The water is fine!"
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